Chapter 1: The Stranger Comes

As the wind is known to do, it carries upon it a voice, a whisper, a haunting echo from the depths of time and the unknown. The locals call such phenomenon the Winds of Destiny. With the promise of a new day, those winds are blowing steadily from out of the West.

Since the sun has yet to make its full appearance, the populace is still unwilling to come out of their homes. If they had they might have heard the subtle but glorious difference in the tone of the Winds of Destiny.

On violent winds have whispers of despair been carried for such a long time now. But maybe, just maybe, these fading winds are bringing with them a glimmer of hope.

Forever and a dream does freedom fight for the right to shine in glorious verve and tambour. Listen and learn, look and see, just how bad freedom wants to be.

It is still early in the morning, so a chill hangs heavy in the air. The desert is one of the world's true wonders. At night you are known to seek out warmth, and in the day you are driven to seek out shade from the sun's powerful rays.

As the sun rises, the screams of the night fade away. From the very same direction the winds have been blowing, a stranger makes his slow and deliberate way into the desert city. As if an aura of power surrounds the stranger, the wind creates a perpetual sandstorm twisting around the stranger to conceal his presence, but once he reaches the city the wind dies down and the sand settles at his feet. It is doubtful that it is a naturally occurring phenomenon.

At long last, from out of the western horizon the sun finally blesses the world with its full geometric shape and power. It is as if the sun rises and shimmers out of the desert itself.

And at long last the stranger reaches the gates. They are unmanned and shine of desolation. The stranger wears but a simple brown cloak that glints gold from the sand collected from the unforgiving desert called the Desert of Origin. The desert he has just crossed.

With the hood pulled high and tight, it is impossible to see the shadows hiding in his eyes. In fact, as he comes walking through the once mighty gates of the city of Turlac, the capital city of the once proud kingdom of Owen, he looks more like a shadow than a man.

As the stranger passes through the unguarded and battered gates of the sandstone walled city of Turlac, he takes his first look at a kingdom he has only heard of in old legendary tales. A twenty-foot statue of a majestic armored knight of a long forgotten time greets the stranger. The knight is holding his sword high into the sky, welcoming all into a city that no longer welcomes its own. The statue has long since lost its luster.

He looks up the cobbled stone street, and everywhere his eyes rest he sees desolation. He sees hand carved stone and what looks to be once finely crafted wood trimmed sandstone houses, but now most of the buildings he sees have walls and roofs caved in.

There is something else, too. At first he cannot decide what it is, and then it comes to him like a bad dream. It is the color of everything, or to be more exact it is the lack of color of everything. He thinks to call it gray, and then he realizes he has seen this color before. This man's travels have taken him from one reality to another for most of his existence, and there is not much that escaped his attention in all that time. With a great sadness he realizes this land looks like a badly decayed corpse. All the way deep into the marrow of his bones he can feel the oppression of this land.

He chooses what looks to be the main street and starts to make his way towards the interior of the city. His footfalls echo eerily off the building walls. He travels many blocks, weary from the long trek across the desert, and sees nothing but the same desolation.

He is just beginning to think that the city has been abandoned when he comes upon a little blond-hair girl of about eight-years-old. She only has one arm. The little girl is sitting on some steps that lead up to a house that looks no different than any of the others he has seen up to this point. At least there are sounds of movement and life inside.

She sits there with her hand resting in the lap of her tattered yellow dress. Her head is bowed down like she is looking at her bare and dirty feet.

The stranger stops and gently asks, "Hello, dear one. Why are you so sad?"

She slowly and mistrustfully looks up, "Sir, the Masters for the safety of our land needed it more than I."

He pats her on the head and hands her a piece of travel bread. As she is looking up at him, the stranger lays back his hood so the little girl can see his eyes. For a fleeting moment he sees a smile play across her pretty face, but then she looks back down without saying another word. The stranger kneels down in front of her and, with his index finger, from the bottom of her chin brings her head up so they can make eye contact one more time.

In a voice that sings of melody and harmony, and that reflects through the stranger's soft brown eyes, words of hope are spoken once again in the kingdom of Owen. "Fear not, sweetheart, beauty still exists in this world. You are proof, precious child."

When at long last he sees a smile play across the little girl's lips, he gets up and continues his journey that has both just begun and has been known for all time. He turns and walks away, both sad and angry.

It is mid-morning now, and he is entering what he guesses to be the heart of the city. He passes by tavern after tavern with drunken men laughing and fighting and women screaming, though he cannot tell if they are screams of sorrow or joy. No doubt trying to forget the horrors of the night.

The few people he does run into on the street make a great effort to mind their own business, so he goes undisturbed. Finally he comes upon a quiet little inn that seems like it does not belong here amongst all the death, despair and desolation. Although the red paint over the stone and the white on the wooden trim is starting to peel and crack, it is the only effort to make something look even remotely alive he has seen since he arrived in this fear-filled land.

As the stranger enters the domicile, and even before he can take in all the sights and sounds, he is met by a seven-foot tall half-man half-bull creature of the Minotaur race. With his black fur and equally black skin. With his huge bull shaped head and his tree trunk upper human body. With a strip of that black fur running down his back, and with his thick warriors black leather tunic covered by a rusty mail shirt, he is quite formidable looking. Not to mention the huge battleaxe he easily carries in one hand.

The stranger walks past with a simple node of his hooded head. Without saying a word he goes up to the counter that also looks like efforts were made so that its wood will shine with a gloss. The stranger walks over to a stool in the counter and sits down. A short and plump human lady with red hair and black circles under her eyes comes over to him. She is wearing a worn down green flowered dress with a greasy white apron tied across the front.

"Excuse me, ma'am," the stranger says in his soft tone.

She replies, "My name is not ma'am, it is Tula, and I am the proprietor of this establishment. What can I get for you?"

The stranger smiles inwardly and reaches up and pulls back the hood of his cloak. The honest smile the stranger wears is reflected in his soft brown eyes. Yes, the very same eyes that have always set people at ease through out his time on this plane. "Tula, my name is Kyle, and I am but a simple man in need of some temporary work. Even though I am just passing through, I will need food and shelter while I am here."

She speaks rather roughly, "We are in no need of help here. If you want drink or food, then we can oblige."

She saw the cloaked man with the hood pulled over his head walk in and walk over toward her. Before the stranger lowered his hood Tula was trying to look into the shadows under his hood to see some sign of a face, but it seemed the harder she looked the blacker the shadows became. Once the stranger lowered his hood the air in the inn seemed to become lighter.

Finally, after an uncomfortable length of time, the stranger Kyle replies, "Milady, in that case I will have something to relax my weary bones and fill my stomach."

Kyle takes his drink and plate of potatoes to the far corner table that is dimly lit by the light coming in from the front door. From across the room he can feel her eyes on him.

Tula has always been attracted to tall men with long brown hair and a strong body. Even though from outward appearances the stranger looks younger than she, there is something that is radiating from him that speaks of ageless ancient times.

It is about twenty minutes after he has come into the place that it starts filling up with patrons, come to drink their fears away, no doubt. As the hours wear on and the patrons consume more and more alcohol, the crowd gets freer and braver with their verbal attack on some people known as the Masters. No doubt the same folk who the little girl spoke of. Still, each time someone new comes walking into the inn a hush falls over the crowd until they recognize the person as one of their own.

Soon tempers flare and a fight breaks out. The Minotaur charges into the fray with a roar. With a man in each hand he hurls them out the doors and into the burning day of a desert city. As the Minotaur is rounding up another handful of brawlers to fling out into the street with the rest of the scum, one of the hell raisers draws his sword and is moving to plunge it into the back of the unsuspecting bouncer.

From out of the shadows and in a blink of an eye the stranger who had been sitting idly by is now on his feet with his ancient sword drawn. Before anyone sees what is happening, the stranger has the sword of the other man broke off at the hilt.

Up to this point the crowd was cheering the fight on, but now they are standing there in silent awe and suspicion. Several of the man's friends start to draw their swords on this new stranger in their town, but when they see the golden glow coming from the hilt of the stranger's sword they think better of it. The group leaves to find a safer place to drink and fight. The rest of the patrons go back to sipping their sorrows from their drinks, and to prepare for the coming horrid night.

The lady of the place, who called herself Tula, walks up to the stranger, "Just a simple man passing through, huh?"

The stranger known as Kyle nods his head, but then with a tilt at the end and a shrug of his shoulders the stranger lets it drop. He has no desire to deceive good people.

"Whatever. If you are still looking for a job I think we can use some help around here to clean up and whatnot. There is a room in back, you can bed down there."

"That will be fine, thank you."

As Kyle starts to turn around to walk back to his table, he runs smack dab into the chest of the Minotaur staring down at him.

There is a long moment of silence, perhaps five never-ending seconds or so, before the Minotaur speaks in his rough and guttural tongue, "My name Maddox. I owe you thanks." then the Minotaur holds out his hand to the stranger.

The stranger takes his hand with an exhale of relief, "My name is Kyle. It is an honor, sir." The Minotaur's hand swallows up his new friend's hand.

Once again darkness has fallen upon the realm, and there is a strange wind blowing from the south. The streets are all but deserted, and you can feel the grip of fear take hold once more. As Kyle is leaning against the doorframe staring out at the night sky, the silence is broken by the sound of hooves striking the cobble stone road. A moment later twenty men wearing black steel clad uniforms ride by without even a glance at the new stranger in town.

Maddox, the majestic Minotaur, says from somewhere behind, "They are Clan Soldiers preparing for their Masters' arrival."

Kyle stands staring after the Clan Soldiers wondering what he should do next. A short while later a purplish mist starts to descend upon the town. Off in the distance, Kyle sees a deep red glow with occasional lighting bolts headed towards the heavens, or perhaps down from the heavens. It seems to be slowly moving towards the city.

Maddox comes up behind him. "The Masters almost here. We must shut inn now."

"What do these Masters look like?" Kyle asks without turning around.

It is Tula that answers him, "Them and the Clan Soldiers pretty much all look the same, especially since originally most of them were from the same group of clans. The Masters all have long black hair, with long full beards, black eyes and varying scars and tattoos on their faces.

"The majority of the Masters and Clan Soldiers hail from the Eastern part of the Desert of Origin and the Eastern Arm of the Coaster Plains, from a group of clans known as the Tatuwa. The Tatuwa clans have always been amongst the largest of Owen, but the old Royal Guard, Allies and the Mystic Wizards always kept them in check. Now that the Mystic Wizards are gone, the Clan Soldiers are pretty much the bullies of their magical kind, the Masters."

"I have heard of the great Mystic Wizards."

"Have you?"

"Hmm. So these scars and tattoos you were talking about, what are they all about?"

"They are from initiations and rites-of-passage ceremonies. The more scars and tattoos they have, the higher their rank."

"Hmm. I think I am going to go for a stroll."

Maddox and Tula say in unison, "You must not! The danger is grave!"

"Do not worry. I will take care, my new friends."

"Maddox go, too."

So they head out into the dark misty and deserted streets of Turlac. Tula shakes her head as they leave. She knew this stranger was trouble.

Keeping to the shadows they make their way down the empty streets. The only sounds are from the strange winds blowing in from the south and that of the distant rumble of the Clan Soldier patrols preparing for their Masters. But if you were to listen closely, you could hear the whimpers and cries of the scared and terrorized people.

Maddox and Kyle turn down a fairly lit street, oil lamps swinging and squeaking in the wind. The street looks to be a market place when open, as the buildings are built within a pace of each other, and the street is extra wide to accommodate the crowds that must congregate here when business is to be had.

They slowly make their way towards the greatest noise of commotion when suddenly a patrol of Clan Soldiers turns up their street heading directly towards them.

With the strange fog that has settled over the city they have only seconds to find a crevice to hide in. Maddox's great arm comes out of the fog and pulls Kyle towards a shadowy enclave between two buildings. Maddox immediately wants to let go of the stranger, because when he grabs him a sharp pain runs through his body, but then it dims to a tingling. Perhaps because Kyle realizes it is the Minotaur who has a hold of him. Maddox wants to let go, but he cannot let his new friend be seen and trampled by the Clan Soldiers.

The enclave is only six marks deep, and as the Clan Soldiers ride by one of the soldier's feet hit Maddox's chest. The only thing that saves them is the shadows, as the Clan Soldier looks back over his shoulder to see what he had come into contact with. It also seems to Maddox that when Kyle does a mild sweep with his hand the shadows become even darker. The soldiers thunder by without incident.

Kyle and Maddox pursue the patrol as best they can, hoping they can get some inclination of what is happening. A short while later they catch up to the patrol of soldiers and watch them from a distance. They are dragging a family from their home. The father is being beaten, the mother is whimpering, and the two children are hysterical with fear.