Songs sang, tales told, rumors spread; those of facts and not. Gossips, tactlessly flung. Curse upon the land. Desolation was our watch word. Anguish and bitterness. Where was comfort in the destitution? 

Mothers took to their children, as a hen shelters her chick. Uncertainty laid each ones heart. And why shouldn't it?  Things as the massacre on Kedrones palace and the damnation of her dared princess couldn't go unforgotten.

Amlyxone and Kedrones rivalry was now sealed for eternity with the spilling of Keiya's blood...and its seed was now far deeper the earth than the existence of humanity.

    War in its entirety was inevitable!

I would join this war! The promise of revenge had been my only driving force. By the heavens it was just enough to wrought the curse needed.

Dakor was my target in this war. But he was cold silent. He'd remained this way for months. Where exactly he was, I didn't know. It was wisdom to take shelter in the fortress of Amlyxone. It didn't matter still, I'd fish him out.

He had cowered too long from my wrath, even to the abandoning of his fathers war -- his true war. But I was motivated yet. I would find him...I would slay him! Even though fate kept proving her betrayal over and again. Her allegiance was defined, and sadly it wasn't on my end.

While I fought hard to pronounce damnation to Amlyxone, Karmadin took it as achievement for his ambitious quest of conquering and gaining more lands. By I was fighting to find Dakor, and that was all that really mattered.

Our war lasted for months; pushing blows and receiving them too. Dakor still remained cold silent in it all. The adversaries were short of a worthy war major. It was our benefit for the taking.

With each unfulfilled attempt and disappointing end,  I was motivated to deliver a bloody end to this war.

Perhaps this was it!

  "Knock the gate down!" The revile scream, if it be called that of a man and not a beast, passed through men as a wave of current. Through firm worn head gear, Commander Girod thundered 
  
Referred to the Kings own city and the most formidable fort in Amlyxone, Revannord had become the very grounds this savage blow of ours was struck.

We had sieged the fortress and exchanged bombardment for four days.

The heavy timbers by the sheer guidance of our soldiers kept knocking the great palace gate. Upon their high walls, we we're entertained with the rain of arrows by the resistance.
  
This was a difficult strive. Yet too many men had been sacrificed in this crusade. There was no turning back!

Canopied by the brass shield, the efforts of the knocking soldiers kept on. By the orders of Karmdin, a group of our soldiers had come up the walls of the fort, away from cover and with the fit tools, and to begin the blow on the palace mighty gate.
 
  The rain of steel arrows persisted amid our struggle. From down, our archer majors combated our unsympathetic hosts.

  Only but a faction, led by myself and Commander Girod was needed for this procession.
Paces away, stood Karmadin the great and his host - anxious as a starving felid. Eagerness as a repeated throb; the pound to claim their glory filled their entirety.

  The palace castle was the most protected structure in all of Amlyxone. This could only describe our peril.

  With the persistent slamming thud of mighty logs, the pursuing tear of heavy latch filled the atmosphere of clamor and outcries.
  Success was yet at arms reach. And yet in my heart, the strange fear was brewing.

Few more rigorous slams and the great door came to its knees. 
Karmadins eyes danced from the show of struggle to his presented glory. As soon as the door came down, his deep cry filled the air.
  
          "Attack! "

  Karmadins forces swam as an eager swarm in a migrating season, reuniting with our forces so we became a single unit again.

   Charging into the castle, the left of Kings Hadero's military faction set their cruel stand to welcome us.

  While we stood a host of gore thirsty warriors, the adversaries we were set to contend were nothing but a bunch of robust looking guards, with fine glistening armor and barely even a nick or dent upon.
  I could wager a life's gaining that this was their first moment  before a war and a good number of them were yet to claim their first life.

   These were no warriors. A peep at them and I could tell. Soft hands, plump physique. I tell; coddled seed of an ambitious courtier or lesser merchants, seeking quick path to power through service in the Liege's court.

   Lances and shield held in a uniform style, they awaited our charge, for which we spared not a moment in delivering.
Their efforts were as a blow of a mantis against a chariot, when matched with savaged tidal force as ours.

  While they battled, I moved up with Karmadin and his team of practice fighters. Upon breaking the inner court, we set in the maze of halls beyond. The chambers bore silence, save the outcry of contention aback us.
  We kept charging the court in our most anxious state. 
  
  Karmadin who was raised in this building as a child, was versed with each route. Only a handful of changes I perceived had been effected in this castle.
The entire court still remained silent. Their was neither the charging of guttural cries from the enemies we left behind, nor that which we charged to meet.

By the interlocking hallways, painted antiquities -- depictions of legends were bore. Graceful mythological scenes adorned the ceilings, walls, mantels and friezes.
The architraves spoke true expertise. The entablature as a whole was a product of novel architecture. The shaft duly standing.
Certain halls held up sculptures and and stacks of metal build lance men.
 
  My eyes roamed unable to rest in that slight space of time. It wandered from architectural grace, to artistical competence -- paintings of style, to war, to portraits of bare flesh. Structures of hand wielding sword, to silly sculptures. The flow of the sea of colors of varying art, defined the scrumptiousness of this Kings court.

  Yet amid the beauty of the court; darkness, and envy and hatred and lust for gore lurked.
  King Hadero himself tended this same hate and resentment for his own brother. Lo, the very day he dreaded: that Karmadin would come at him, had alas come -- and with blood and fire.
 
  A breeze stirred the fragrant air and the darkness still nested in our heart, formed a frivolous harmony.

  But fear was a silhouette standing a rear. My eyes dared not be blur. My wits keen as my blood coated blade.
    My mortal enemy should indeed be within these walls!

  The slowly tingling ring; the smell of absurd perfumes and incense assaulted my nostrils. The soothing mixture of natures breeze and earthly scent, had been replaced by an absurd blend of spices and sage -- the scent of intruders.

   "We are not alone..."
  My warning call had rather come too late. In a millisecond came knocked down two of our men. Spattering blood from mouth in gulps, the arrow stood stocked fitly in head.

   Before any action could be made, more synonymous cries of demise on our side followed, by the cruel archers bidding.
  In the moment he cocked the crossbow and made ready for the killing spring, I and the rest keen men, took to cover; scattered upon the hall.

  The shadow, sheltered in his mystery, held up his fire and killings. In every three cock of the bow, he was sure to pick a man from our party.

  Slowly, the shadow was thinning our forces.

  A few paces away, Prince Jeron laid squatted on the marble floor. With a gesture he flew the message my way, for which I had grasped beautifully.

   The stranger was picking us out at a time. If we persisted in this way, he would by ill fortune succeed in claiming half our force. Who else could be due to stop such monstrosity, than a practice archer -- and of the best in all of Kedrone.

  Still, the shadow remained a mystery with an un-telling position. A keen man needed thus to spit his position for the calamity to end.
With a quick resolve, I and my comrades burst in a brusque style, stirring the commotion. Amid our display of crassness, the muddled killer shot at sea.
A quick leak of his shadowed position, and Jeron was out with his keen swing. With a bellow we affirmed his hit. His cold cry first and then his slump followed. 

   A sudden rush of clamor yet followed the demise of the point archer. From the broken bend in the hall, a company of red cloak guards charged on us.

    The Red cloaks! These were King Hadero's most loyal and deadliest team.  
  Their presence brewed our anger, and in no lesser style we charged on them.

  Be they skilled and cunning, our number was yet encompassing. And by the sacrifice of few fighting comrades, the Red cloaks were nothing but blood draining corpse.
  In the glory of their defeat, bore our ladder to Hadero' chamber.

  Few blows on the jammed door, and it came tearing as crunched bread. The sound of unsheathing blades ringing within the court yet ushered us in.

   "Drop down your weapons." The coarse voice broke through the fight heated atmosphere. Though craggy, yet authority could be affirmed in it.

   "I suppose a bow to the king of kings would be due, brother." The old king sat chest up and spoke in all pomposity.
Such guts, even at the jaws of damnation.

  "Your years of kingship has come to an end." Karmadin spoke while drawing closer to the eulogized 'King of kings! '

  "Aye, it has." He sighed.
"I was so confident this crusade of yours was nothing but a righteous means to end your filthy life."

  "Alas, you see differently." Karmadin smirked.

  "Tell me brother.....what was your drive?" The old King seemed serious in having an answer.

  "Drive." Karmadin laughed. "One doesn't need a drive to be compelled to want to end your worthless existence." He cursed, before roaring scornfully...
   "Get off my throne! "

     "Yours." The old king laughed. "If you want the seat, you would have to take it yourself little brother." he drew out his sheathed sword, in a blink.

But my intrusion melted the whole tension...

    "No one is set for your foolish games old man. Get down the throne and tell me where that vile son of yours,  Dakor is, so I may sink my blade and vengeance in him." I growled.
 
    "Oh," he exclaimed. "it is indeed you." He looked at me with scorn smile.
"Dorack Dun of Gezon Mountains. Defeater of Dakor at the Vicious Game. Breaker of Siege. Sword of Karmadin..."
His eulogy came with mock.

"...except now we know your recklessness has cost you, and in fact made you the victim." He laughed.

 "I was slack in my duty; letting that mad man live that night. I shall be true this time with the task." I breathed sinisterly.

"Their would be no next time for you or anyone else. Dakor is gone and gone for good. He has fled Amlyxone. You would never find my boy." Pronounced with satisfaction the vile King.

  "No. No. No, no.... " I screamed with hatred. "Give me Dakor."
The declaration of the vile man came as a storm knocking me off course. But he was satisfied with my infuriation.

   Dakor; the dishonorable, the vile man, and my mortal enemy, was in fact far away from his own home, which was to be his ultimate wall. He could now be anywhere in the Lands of Oak. How could I tell where he was now? Where do I start in the absurd chase?
   I should have been wiser to perceive the man was lacking in virtue.

   Amid the stab I felt from his pronouncement, the old King held up his brag.

   "He is riding with the wings of the wind. For every step you take he would take two, and you would never catch him."
    Even this time his words were more throbbing with bitter torrent. And for a moment, I felt jaded - void of will and motivation.

  "The future King of Amlyxone would live on, until the days when he shall return to collect his heritage."
  Quickly, the King added to his array of boast. But I felt his words this time differently.
  Rather been cynical from his absurd news, a strange strain of rage was birthed. While he spoke, the ire was fanned to its zenith. Hate, fret and revilement in accord.
    And so broke out I...

"I swear," I breathed hoarsely.  "I swear to you this day, by the gods that are true; I will find Dakor and shame him, the same way he shamed his father and his people. Only then would justice be served."

With this brusque crack of words, I turned from the gatherings; that of the pleading enemies and of my allies -- standing puzzled, and for the exit I was destined.

    "Dorack! " I heard Jerons call suddenly.  "Where are you going?" He asked desperately.

  "Away from it all, and for justice. My days as well in Kedrones service has come to an end."
I declared strongly, sparring not even a moment to look back to them, I fought for my exit from their presence.

  "Dorack!" Karmadins call -- first of them all, daring to peel the absurdity.
  
We were before a finished war --  a conquest like no other. Subjection of a greater Kingdom to ours and our will. This was true victory and I stacked mighty hands in it.  And yet, I dare walk away from the glory which was deemed mine.
  No one could understand this; not even Karmadin. But that was how much I was willing to give to take the dash for vengeance.
    
       "Dorack!!!  " Their cries of confusion persisted.

      "Dorack!!!  " Those of families...

      "Dorack!!! " Those of friends...

      "Dorack!  " Those of fanatical comrades......all in accord.
  
Whatever fate be Kedrone and Karmadin' new Kingdom, was his decision ultimately and his alone to bear...my service was ended and by quest, began!