It’s been a seriously busy month, what with farm work and your daily nit picky pain in the ass kinda stuff, it all builds up an up and then you realise something when you finally get a chance to pause, that you haven’t actually got anything of real substance done and still have a shed load of boring shit that still needs attending to before you can actually focus on writing new content – And that sucks, because life is seriously short, so short even that I fear I will not finish the entirety of this project before it is my turn to die, I want to have something before my time is up, something that will last longer than the cells inside that keep me ticking. Little bleak I am aware to start off this post but screw it life can be cold sometimes, deal with it because we have no choice. Truth be told I have made some few advancements with the book work, both one and two, I even made a list before I sat down to write this article just to remind myself what it is I’ve done. Once I’ve convinced you that I am not a lazy fucktoid, I’ll hit you with another segment of Episode Two – Rise of The Black Doves, a segment that I am proud of and gives you another angle on what I am going for with The Ancestral Odyssey. Epic does not do this story justice, I need a new word.
-I went over my front cover for the Paperback Edition. I gave it a new texture instead of just plain black. I cleaned up the central symbol and created a neat dreamcatcher which I used for this articles picture. Before you ask, YES, it is relevant to Episode One – The Utopian Dream, and once you read it, you should be able to see the relevance, if not then God help you my friend. Plus it looks kinda cool for the back cover of the book.
-I’ve given Episode One, Kindle Editions an update. I went through hell to format the three Volumes..TWICE! Because there was a problem involved with the set up, but if you check them out after reading this post on Amazon, you’ll see that they look far superior to their older versions, there is a slight clipping of the world map unfortunately but I literally cannot fix that problem, it looks great on Kindle devices but on the ‘Look Inside’ feature on Amazon it is ever so slightly clipped, if anyone can e-mail me on how to sort this, I will love you forever and probably marry you if you’re part of the female race. I really spent a long time on the formatting, I cannot stress that enough, I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep I couldn’t think about anything else other than getting it done, anyone who has formatted before using Word, Calibre and Kindle Previewer will understand the pain/stress and I will use the word trauma in this instance, because if you love a project as much as I love this one, you want to give it the best chance it has to thrive, so please, check it out, consider a purchase or share it with someone who you think will like this stuff, it will be greatly appreciated. I’ll leave all necessary links at the bottom of this post.
-A few months ago I got in touch with an artist I had my eye on and proposed to him a project. The project was to paint three important scenes that occur in The Utopian Dream. I would describe them and even then sketch them myself if needs be, and he would either agree or disagree to do the work. He declined. Among analysing hundreds of other artists from all over the world, none of them (as talented as they were) had the particular style I was looking for, not like the artist I had asked initially from Serbia. So, I messaged him again, just to see if he would re-consider…Yesterday, out of the blue, he sent me a sketch, a first draft of the first scene I described and it looked..Incredible. After re-establishing contact, after a quick back and forth, he is on board with the project. Soon I’ll be able to show you visual imagery from a professional artist depicting three scenes in Episode One, and I could not be anymore excited about this.
-This last note is a little detail, but worth mentioning. During this last month, I have filled a notebook to the brim of ideas for future instalments and some of them will take this story to a level not even I thought it was capable of and it scares me to think about what else it can do or go, its crazy. I wrote about the importance of carrying a notebook around with you at all times if you are an aspiring or a full-time writer. Check out my post ‘The Notebook’ for an interesting read, I think it was my second post on WordPress.
Okay, I think that brings us up to date, thank you for reading up to this point. Now, here is another segment of Episode Two – Rise of The Black Doves that I promised, I really hope you enjoy it. I received a lot of positive feedback from my last article entitled Witch’s Awakening, a segment which reveals one of my favourite characters from Equis’s dark historical period called Mythorigin (Equis is the name of my world if you didn’t already know). Again, links to my work are all listed at the bottom, do not hesitate to share or get in touch, responses may be late because I work a fair bit and internet while travelling is scarce. Please bear in mind that this segment is scattered among others in between, there will be things you understand, some things have been covered in previous chapters, and of course this is only an unedited first draft, so go easy on me if you see any errors, there are a few spoilers that have overlapped from the first book, you’ve been warned. Thank you, and again I hope you enjoy.
RIP Chris Cornell – Love Audioslave, loved your work and will dedicate this day to listening to your songs. Thoughts are with you and your family today. You will be missed.
Lars lead Glenn out of The Oakening and through the bustling brown and grey streets of the City, loaded with rivers of citizens flowing through the sectors, looking for food and things to buy from the open markets. Glenn, attempted to make small talk as they went, Lars was almost unresponsive, he had always been a little distant recently and moodier than usual. Eventually the pair came to the familiar sight of The Firehand Yard, the base which was their home. Occasionally, the members referred to The Firehand Yard as The Yellow. The reason for this odd nick name came from a few sources, one being The Firehand uniform and armour, it was stripped or patched with pale yellow dyes. The second being that their insignia of two, crossed long barrel rifles in front of a simplistically painted, silhouette of the orbed Requorn emblem shielded with plates, had too been tinted with flecks of a yellow shade. Glenn and Lars had engaged in light conversation along the way, to do with the operation at hand, they had talked about Gabriel, his men and what they thought they would find at the archaeological site, but neither Lars nor Glenn knew much about the details, so the discussion was short-lived. Lars was a professional mechanic, a former Mek in Lysander’s pod, he specialised in the black power bombs and worked on various types of armour to withstand such blasts, he also had a good understanding of dismantling and building Human traps. Hayden was the weapon specialist, the offence of the squad. Raquel was the navigations expert, she was the one who could read the land, hunt and track down targets. Jake and Glenn were the scouts, the support, the assistance, as green as grass. Lysander was the Captain, who had shown exceptional skills in leadership, and Elone was the Sergeant, a man who seemed to inherit all the skills of both pods. As Glenn’s position required no special skills, Lars and Glenn had little to talk about, having only shared a handful of very brief conversations and had engaged in banter from time to time when in training. “I’m sorry I left The Yellow, I only just slipped out to catch up with Denzel” said Glenn. “You think you’re the only one with a life outside duty? You think you’re the only one who does not miss the company of friends and family?” asked Lars. “No” sulked Glenn. “Right, now imagine if you worked in a market, in a restaurant or on one of your farms in Pura, and an employee hit you with ‘I only just’? You wouldn’t be amused, would you?” asked Lars. “No” repeated Glenn. “Good, then we understand each other” suggested Lars. “Of course we do” said Glenn. “Oh, come on Glenn, don’t bend over backwards so easily, you have a spine, a pretty sturdy one last time I checked. Bite back once in a while, show some balls” Glenn creased “Not literally. It’s sometimes best to be bluntly honest and say ‘fuck the rules,’ it’s what the Sargent looks for in his recruits, it’s probably why there are so few of us” “Is that so?” asked Glenn. “I’m here aren’t I, besides, we’ve all done it, soldiers aren’t mindless drones, always remember that Glenn” advised Lars “Lysander does not wish to see you because you broke perimeter, the operation is still on standby, you can relax” said Lars, tapping Glenn on the back as they neared the home office of The Firehand unit. Lysander’s office was located on the top floor of a fancy wooden house close to the Armoury Warehouse, a house that didn’t look like it belonged in The Yellow and not amongst the military base for it was not geared up for defence or offence in any way, it was just a large wooden, white house in need of a lick of fresh paint. It had three grand floors, a triangular roof, a wide patio and some abandoned stables next door. The grand old manor portrayed a cultured complexion, built-in a time when citizens identified themselves as Norkron and not Requorn. This was where Lysander, Elone and Gabriel lived and managed their Pods from, a place renovated for important work, as well as the occasional late night celebration. Lars left Glenn at the foot of the hill that the manor was built upon and made for the bunker, hoping no one else has snuck off in his absence. Glenn flicked up his collar and strolled up the brown path cutting through the faded grass alone. Jogging up the wooden steps, his boots treading over the floor boards of the patio, he knocked on the double doors creating an interesting beat. No answer, so he did it again accept this time he saved the rhyming beat. When no answer came, he put his hand on the door knob and he tried opening it, but couldn’t. Eventually, he used both hands but still couldn’t open it! Placing his hands on his hips, containing his frustration not wanting to look as if he were trying to break in, he tried again, gently. The brass door knob was very loose, it required a strong twist and a shoulder shove to actually get it open! Stepping inside the hinges creaked painfully and loudly as he entered. At the far end of the square hall directly in front of him, were some steps leading up to the second floor and from there the steps split into two paths in opposite directions leading to floor three. The hall was not cluttered with decoration, there were few colourful vase’s balancing upon tall wooden stems in the corners under a thin layer of dust, a few comfortable looking but tattered sofas pressed up next to the walls and candle stems scattered all over the place. There was a lonely table and a handful of chairs nearby that looked as if it had never been used before, these too were collecting dust, it had been a while since this place had seen its famous late night parties, Glenn remembered seeing adults drinking and merry-making here when he was a child, where hundreds of people gathered to enjoy the foods, the drinks, the fires that people sat around. On the ground floor, to Glenn’s left was a Western door and to his right was an Eastern door, above these doors perched stone gargoyles. The demonic reptilian creature fixed above the Western passageway was suited up in heavy armour, brandishing two chunky gauntlets that could be removed and utilized if one were so inclined. The other on the Eastern side, held in his palms a hollow spherical, whirlwind of swirling stone, inside this sphere was room to light a candle or place an orb, but currently it was empty. The creature was the same as the other but this one wore draping robes instead of metal armour. What these creatures actually represented, Glenn did not know but they triggered a time in his life when he feared them, thought them looking at him as he moved across the room that no one appeared to be using, everything must have been happening upstairs in the rooms above, in the libraries and offices of the old dusty manor. Glenn ascended the steps, treading on a faded carpet running his fingers up along the cold banister. Lysander was likely on the third floor where he worked with Elone. It wasn’t long before Glenn found the Captains office, after navigating a couple of narrow corridors and ascending another set of steps lit with the sun light coming through tall windows. Knocking on the door, mimicking his favourite beat from earlier Lysander said “Enter” from within, and Glenn twisted the door handle but like with the front door, it wouldn’t open. Several seconds passed by as Glenn wiggled the handle around growing all the more frantic as time passed, having to put a shoulder to it, bursting in with Lysander’s eyes staring up at him from head to toe behind his large busy desk loaded with files, documents and reports. “There is a definite problem with the doors of this place” said Glenn, scratching the back of his head. “That I can see, no one ever enters my office anymore they just kinda fly in as you did so gracefully. You gotta lift the handle up, then push it in and twist” said Lysander. “Twist, lift, push, yeah I got it” said Glenn hesitantly. “No, you lift, push and twist” Lysander repeated. “Lift, push and twist, right” “You have a problem with old Norkron doors, Glenn?” asked Lysander. “No, not at all, guess I am just used to the traditional twist and push routine” “Took me a while to figure it out too, first night here I thought I’d locked myself in, spent a good part of an hour resisting the urge to blasting it open with my SG” said Lysander, breaking into a smile, tucking some papers away within a drawer of his desk. Glenn laughed, remembering the time he saw Lysander’s SG in action, blowing one of the thirty-footer dummies on the firing range in half “Your scatter gun would have decimated the entire door off and part of the wall if you let that thing off in here. For a secondary side-arm capable of shredding armour, I’m curious to know what your primary weapon is” said Glenn, giving a Firehand salute. “Here’s a hint Mr Straff, it’s not a long barrel rifle or a trinity pin pointer” said Lysander. “Is it a twin barrel? Or a modified standard issue model three perhaps?” asked Glenn. “It’s something still in development, I won’t be bringing it with me when our operation is given the go ahead, it still needs field testing first, but hopefully one day you’ll see it” said Lysander. “You wanted to see me Cap?” asked Glenn. “At ease soldier, at ease. Sit down” said Lysander, walking around his desk, offering Glenn a drink, but he refused. The Captain then offered his guest a tin of his rolling weed, flicking it open but again, Glenn refused this luxury. “Ah yes I forgot, you’re the weird one of the group” said Lysander, taking in a final drag on his roll up, sitting back down behind his desk, stubbing the remains out on a silver, metallic ash tray “You’re the one who does not drink, does not smoke, only eats vegetables grown from his own patch and rarely comes out to play at night, is this true?” “Most of it is, yes” said Glenn, wondering where this was going “I eat meat on occasion, better to use it rather than let it go to waste, food is important, smoking and drinking isn’t” said Glenn. “Tell me why?” asked Lysander. “I’ve never felt the need to hasten my inevitable demise. Smoking does absolutely nothing for you and drinking although a little more beneficial, wastes zeal, destroys the body, the mind and wakes you up in the morning with the feelings of regret and the need to issue sincere apologies to his friends and society as a whole” answered Glenn “I can do without those things” “Well said, and what about the other thing?” asked Lysander. “Other thing, sir?” questioned Glenn, not understanding. “You’re twenty-four, nearly twenty-five, right?” “Right” “And you’re not interested in women?” Glenn rolled his eyes and said “No, I love women. Are you torturing me because I said I wouldn’t forget about this meeting, and then forgot about it sir? Because if it is, I apologise” “No, not at all Glenn no at all, I am curious. I and all the others are curious about you and why it is you serve as a Firehand, as you may have noticed, it is a very select group of hand-picked individuals, one that Elone himself is proud of” “I did notice that, sir. I am glad to be here” “Why do you think you were chosen Glenn?” questioned Lysander. “Someone had to be I guess, I’m not sure. Perhaps on the day of final trials I scored the highest from the other Regular candidates I was grouped with. That’s how it usually works” said Glenn. The Captain, tucked some of his long hair behind his ear after pulling out from his desk a document “Yes, that is how it works, but when it comes to you, I’m sorry, but this is simply not the case. On the day of trials Glenn, you under-performed in all sections of the tests. Evaluations conducted by Sargent Elone show” and Lysander began to read from segments of the file “Physical prowess, fail. Not by much you still scored highly but not enough to make the cut. Practical capability, fail. You are not the fastest nor the best marksman not by a long shot, excuse the usage of words but this is what the tests indicate, you scored a mere fifty on the shooting range and a terrible thirty during the raid exam. You needed a ninety in both tests to pass, minimum. Psychological analysis also shows failure but this goes way under the line to the point where it gets a little curious. Emotionally unstable due to eventful childhood trauma, subject rejects all notions of authority, reliability and precision when exposed to large quantities of the common element water” Lysander could not help to take a look at Glenn, from head to toe before he continued to read the results “Glenn Straff, Regular, number twelve fourteen is not to be approved for Firehand duty and should be re-evaluated in order to continue service in the Requorn forces. Advised he be stripped of uniform and be presented other avenues of career. What can I say other than I am confused, you failed all three modules, the most important one poorly, you have an unresolved case of a traumatic experience that effects your emotions and it’s been deemed unwise for you to even hold a sword, what am I to make of this?” Lysander closed the folder and placed it on his desk, pushing it aside. Glenn remained still, not saying a word, hoping Lysander would fill in the silence, but he didn’t, he just stared at the youngster sitting opposite, as curious as a cat eyeing up some loose string. “So, so what am I doing here?” asked Glenn. “Ah, wrong again, the question is not what, but is why” Lysander pointed out. “Then, why am I here?” asked Glenn.
Glenn held his hand gently over his mouth, seeing the sincerity in Lysander’s eyes, he could only muster one question “This makes no sense Captain, if I am under qualified how was I even approved for service?” asked Glenn. “Elone and I were the ones who looked over your results along with a hundred others that day, and we both agreed to send you back to your Regular squad, to recommence your training if you wished. It was Isaac who approved you, Isaac who gave you the go ahead even with the knowledge of your failures” replied Lysander. “He takes precedent over yourself and Elone?” “He does indeed Glenn, he does indeed” said Lysander, looking upon Glenn with suspicion. “Where do we go from here?” asked Glenn. “Now that depends on you” said Lysander, pointing at Glenn “Elone and I are under orders from our superior who wants you to stay, even if that means endangering your fellow Firehands, myself and the Sergeant, our word has been over-ruled. You however still have a choice, either you stay or you take what was recommended to you at the end of these results” and Lysander dropped a finger onto the closed document “If you choose to leave, you will be discharged from the Pod and sent back to your old squad in the Regular unit, they miss you I hear, you showed real leadership qualities, qualities which have gotten you far. You will still be able to retake the Firehand trials, but there is a very long waiting list, could be a few years before you’re considered again” Lysander could tell by Glenn’s expression, that he didn’t like the situation he was in, who would? “Or you could stay, and keep the one-eyed Isaac happy. Choice is yours” he finished, sitting back, folding his arms. “What would you recommend Captain?” asked Glenn. “I’d leave” said Lysander, without a moment’s hesitation. “And throw away years of my life, just like that” argued Glenn, clicking his fingers. “Consider the alternative, you could get everyone in the Pod and yourself killed” said Lysander, returning the room to silence for a while with a sobering thought. “Well, this is the most uncomfortable situation I’ve ever been in” said Glenn. “Then count yourself as a lucky man, but we both know that that isn’t true, you’ve seen worse” and Lysander received a dark, glooming look from Glenn, his past flashing before his eyes, the desperation, the screaming revisiting him, fuelling him with hatred “I hate to break it to you Glenn, but what happened to you in your earlier days happens every day in Equis ten-fold. As Requorns, we hope to put a stop to it, but it’s hard, there is more evil than we can handle, bad outweighs the good. Do you even know what’s out there? Do you even have the slightest idea of what is actually happening?” Glenn was shocked at the question having not expected such treatment from Lysander, like he was a rookie going into his first Firehand exam or going through the traditional tough man spiel on the first day of joining The Regulars. Glenn was new, but not that new to this business. “Of course, I know what is happening sir. Victory, over The Dovidian Covenant was never officially declared. The Covenant War is over but the catalysts are still at large. I do not know their names but certain individuals were not caught or killed after the battle at Korthak Bridge, where The Honour Guards fell and have remained elusive. So long as these dangerous men are not deemed dead, they are dangerous, influential and can potentially rise against us again” said Glenn, impressing Lysander with his answer. “Well said Glenn, but you only got it half right” said Lysander, standing up, putting both hands on his hips as he strolled around his office. “What am I missing?” asked Glenn and Lysander, sighed, rubbing his forehead. “For twenty-years we’ve been preparing for their return, for twenty years we’ve been gathering as much strength as we can to ensure we can resist and survive what’s coming, but like before, it’s not going to be enough.” “Who’s coming, Captain?” asked Glenn, looking to his right at Lysander, taking his time in refilling his glass with amber liquid. “We have only bits and pieces of information, every day we receive more and the evidence continues to build. I’d appreciate it if you kept this and what I’ am telling you, to yourself, until I deem it fit to brief the others” and Glenn nodded, agreeing to the discretion. Lysander did not return to his seat, instead he leant up next to the wall in his office “To start with there is man who leads a group called The Long Coats, not many are aware of his existence but he was working against the Norkrons during the war. It wasn’t until The Minister of Cuether, Jeffery Vou, clarified a report in collaboration with our former Dark Rogue allies, that we confirmed that this man was the one who funded The Dovidian Covenant’s campaign, threatening Vou and many others like him at the time, with destruction and brutal torture, unless they handed over their wealth. His real name no one knows, but recent whispers call him Lord. Lord is rumoured to wield a spear twelve and a half meters in length with extreme proficiency, not a man you should fuck with at any cost unless loaded up with a trinity pin pointer, and that’s not even the scariest thing about him, he has not only at his disposal a highly disciplined merciless army, but his closest ally is a reptilian human being named Caiman, someone with the strength and resilience of three men, someone with the senses of an adept predator. Caiman was raised by Lord, he is a hunter who rides upon the back of a vaurodile” “A vaurodile? You mean those ten-foot-long crocodiles that live-in swamps! How is that even possible?” asked Glenn, having to interrupt the Captain, unable to create a clear picture in his head. “We don’t know exactly Glenn, but Caiman or someone else with a profound knowledge of cross breeding species, has somehow bred out what few weaknesses they have and created a highly evolved organism, a beast with all its strengths growing to large proportions with no weaknesses. Lords men use the bullet proof scaled armour that grows off these creatures as protection. This new type of vaurodile, can stand, run, climb and understand human commands. It’s once hind legs that were short and stumpy, have been bred to be longer, built for running, able to hold twice its weight, naturally these creatures have no predators. These beasts eat more than just deer, their nature has changed, now they eat people and horses, another cannibalistic army similar to The Blood Marauders lead by Xavien, the Demon Man spotted heading into the far North, into the desert dunes of Sand where sand sharks grow massive. Apparently, Xavien is following some kind of ancient demonic ritual linking in with Driad history, one of blood lust that will awaken something called Saphuries, The Blood Angel that killed death” “Driad’s sir?” questioned Glenn, unfamiliar with this extinct race. “The Driad’s, as history goes, did not stop Saphuries, but they trapped it within a vault of rock somewhere within the North, but the damage had already been done, and the species died out years later, unable to undo what Saphuries had done” Glenn, Lysander and other historians could only speculate what had happened in the aftermath of the battle “These men are not to be underestimated nor their faith be doubted, Xavien is evidence of this demonic power which is growing, people are saying he cannot bleed, that blades cannot harm him, and he’s lost what it means to be human” Lysander sat back down, taking the bottle with him, Glenn placed his hand over his empty glass signifying that he didn’t want any of the drink, but Lysander poured the drink over his hand anyway “Real mature Captain” said Glenn. “You’ll need it because that’s just the start of it, not only are we up against brawn but we are facing an enemy with intellect and patience. Xavien is digging, and this source comes from a reliable pair who participated in the battle at Korthak Bridge. They say Xavien is pulling Chrocian Titans out of their slumber, the largest known land dwellers on the planet, for siege purposes most likely” said Lysander, sitting back down behind his desk. “Who are the pair who gave you this information?” asked Glenn. “Riagel Tyorn and Draygo Dumear, two of our best” said Lysander. “We’ve faced impossible odds before and come out on top, we can do the same here, we aren’t exactly sitting still, we are making advancements as well” said Glenn. “Ever heard of the Harphiar?” asked Lysander, as he buttoned up his loose sleeves, it didn’t look like Glenn knew much about them either and shook his head “Harpies have been sighted on the Western coasts of Klaw, at first there were pockets of them, handfuls of these scrawny, cowardly winged, bat like people who specialise in ranged assaults, but now there are hundreds of them, thousands of them nesting on the cliff faces and they are not dull-witted, they are building something, something of vast proportions. More come every day Glenn, they even have established leaders in their ranks, a King and a Queen who have no love of humans. Scouts of theirs have been sighted all over the place, the last one was sighted around the backwater town of Harloth. You want some proof? This arrived two weeks ago, from Noble Tharas Yinn and Minister Yarith, the letter carries both their signatures” and Lysander let go of the letter, letting it fall down in front of Glenn “These Harphiar unlike us, are not wasteful, when they claim a kill they use the corpse. A man’s skin if stretched can provide shelter for a tent did you know? His eyes are a delicacy to eat from what I’ve heard. His bones can be chiselled into scaffolding poles for shelters and fitted as spear and arrow heads. His meat can be used to lure in fish or larger aquatic life forms such as ophidians that love the taste of us and the Harphiar are showing interest in, you know those twenty-foot long serpents that have been known to eat fully grown sharks when desperate? What the Harphiar plan to do with them I have no idea but I am aware that they are gathering schools of these serpents in pens, fuck knows why but it cannot be just a hobby of theirs. Something tells me that they do not plan to be dangling off the cliffs forever. Sooner or later, they are going to start moving inland within the hundreds of thousands and the first thing that ANYONE does before an invasion, is to scout ahead, to evaluate the situation to make sure it’s safe for the rest of them” said Lysander, taking a drink rather casually. Glenn finished reading the short letter, it was written with a fine, educated hand and the words expressed real concern. A fleeting moment of weakness tempted him to reach for his glass and join the Captain in the drinking. “We too are aerial with our Dragora Flyers, I saw one fly over a few days ago, I think it was Zard for the dragoon was armoured, equipped with an air pike” said Glenn. “Aye, but our dragora are lacking in numbers, they are extremely difficult to tame and cannot remain airborne for long periods of time nor can they ascend as high as one of these harpies. We have a hundred or so, sending a hundred dragora to engage with a hundred thousand Harpies would be a slaughter” said Lysander. “Even so, who’s to say Lord and the King of the Harpies are allied? Unless they join forces, we do have the strength to repel them” said Glenn. “Armies with common interests, never fail to find one another, great distances may separate them but word spreads fast in Equis” said Lysander, tapping his fingers on the table. “That’s not all is there?” asked Glenn, noting Lysander’s face, wiped with grim concern for the future. “Jureai is in chaos. The country never recovered after The Covenant War. The last large-scale conflict we waged against them was nigh on twenty-years-ago. We killed their Chieftain Kronix at Rivers Finn, and what remained of his Salarthian Clan fled further North into their country. We ended the campaign there” “Why couldn’t we follow?” asked Glenn. “From what I’ve been told, we had not the numbers, the strength or had the equipment to pursue. Now, The Chimera Order is broken, all of its Chieftains dead and the clans are all but decimated, their way of life destroyed thanks to the savagery of the barbaric Salarthian’s who are without a Sovereign Watcher, have ripped their country apart. In terms of ingenuity and weaponry, we do outmatch them, but they never stray far from their borders, they know that they maintain the home field advantage while in Jureai, they know the land and can tolerate the heat whereas we are suited to cooler climates. They command over tens of thousands of warriors and a battalion of ptriva striders, if they decide to go to war, they could win a war should they find proper leadership” said Lysander, who leant forward and said “War is coming.” Once again, the office returned to silence, until Glenn broke it, deciding not to drink after all “This is your way of dissuading me? After all that, you expect me to just put down my rifle and let the Pod go out into the fray without me?” “I could’ve gone on but no Glenn, you misunderstand, what I am simply saying is that whether you like it or not, you WILL get your chance to fight. Picking up a sword or an LBR will be necessary when the storm hits. We will need men like you when the time comes, I’ll even send you a letter personally if you like before you and your brothers are drafted for the front lines where you will not be coming back from, but for now, while you have time, let another take your place, and go home, return to Pura where you’re from, work on the farm under the sun, find a woman and experience a life before Equis turns to shit” advised Lysander, sliding a release document, a quill and an ink pot toward him. Glenn took the pen, and stared at the dotted line. Dipping the pen into the ink pot he placed the tip of the pen onto the paper, staining it with a mark and held it there. “I can’t do it Captain” he said, and put the pen down. Lysander pulled the paper back and slid it into the document. “I’m going to keep these papers together, in case you change your mind” said Lysander, tapping them on the surface of the table. Glenn had made up his mind, there was nothing left to say, so he stood up, flicking up his collar “I just hope we can figure out what possessed Isaac to approve someone who isn’t fit for service, before it’s too late” said Lysander, who’s friendly tone had taken a dive into deep disappointment. Glenn saluted regardless, and left The Firehand Manor.
Copyright © 2017 by D.W.Gill
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including recording, photocopying or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written and signed permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
All rights reserved. Published by Taoteque Publishing.
Tha Ancestral Odyssey: Rise of The Black Doves – Volume Four. Written by D.W.Gill.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or people living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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