By the dim light the shadows whisper, the stories told...

Block!

Parry!

Block!

Parry!

Block!

Parry!

Block, block!

Parry, parry, parry!

Block!

Attac.......

"Son of a bit......." Indys Anlace never finished her sentence. General Gillilion parried her sword thrust and drove her blade into the ground with his own before leaping through the air, spinning to her right. With her sword and shield now useless, she braced herself for the blow, knowing it was coming. The armored elbow crashed into the back of her head so hard that she would've thought she'd forgotten to don a helm, but then the loud ringing, as if she'd stuck her head in a bell tower at worship hour filled her ears. She crashed towards the earth barely conscious.

As her head greeted the earth, she had come to just enough to feel the entire brunt of her body smash her visor shielded face into the dry dirt. The fall knocked the air from her lungs; she could taste the dirt and smell the dust as she attempted to refill her lungs and catch her breath, only to cough out a cloud of dirt as she exhaled, choking on it.  Lying on her stomach, she went to roll over and prepared to defend herself, but a heavy boot crunched painfully down on her sword hand, sending even more grinding pain through her body.

Gillilion was a large man, well over six feet tall, pushing seven, with a magically enhanced muscular frame that all the women of court admired. That is, all except Indys. His sun bleached blond hair was of waist length, and done up in a war braid that she could see swaying back and forth through the periphery of her visor.

"Yield, bitch," Gillilion hissed.

"Lick....a....d...dick!" She managed to get out, still fighting for her breath.

He swiftly kicked her in the side of the head, scrambling her senses once again and making her eyes cross. Two more kicks and her helm went sailing, but not before catching her on the cheek and lip causing her to bleed. Insult to fucking injury, she thought, cursing herself for the predicament she had landed herself in.

"I'll leave that up to you females; on your knees or your backs is where you belong," He said arrogantly, his weight crashing down on top of her, pinning her to the ground just as she was trying to get up from her stomach. He grabbed her by her hair, pulling her head back savagely, and twisting her neck so hard she felt like he might just decapitate her. "Your hips were made to have something thrust between them! Your hands were never meant to hold a sword, let alone thrust one at a man. Now yield!"

With her head twisted, she glared at him through the corner of her eyes. "L..lick the balls too, asshole!" She hissed defiantly.

Gillilion's armored fist balled up to punch her; Indys closed her eyes, figuring her smart mouth had just cost her at least two of her front teeth.

"Enough!" Came a shout. "General, this is training. With all due respect, sir, I say lesson learned."

Gillilion gave a hard stare at the newcomer who was interrupting his training session, then peered down at the cut and swollen face of Lady Anlace. "Yes, I do suppose you're right, Captain," Gillilion returned, although he made no motion to release Indys's hair. He bent lower, so that his mouth was just inches from her ear and whispered, "If you really want to bring honor to your family, go home and fall on your own sword tonight before someone else impales you on theirs!" He spit like a viper.

The words stung Indys; to have the General, and Queen's personal bodyguard, say such insulting things burned her to the core. Her face reddened with anger and she quickly realized that her mouth was going to get her into even more trouble. "The taint! Tickle the taint too with that barbed tongue of yours," She said through gritted teeth, and gave the General a toothy, bloody smile.

"You little, stupid fucking bitch." The armored fist rushed towards her face.

Eyes closed she waited for it once again, ready to embrace the pain.

"At ease, General. I'll take it from here."

Indys opened her eyes, Gillilion's large armored fist was only an inch away from her face. He hadn't pulled the punch, but rather it had been stopped by a wooden practice sword wedged between his forearm and bicep, efficiently preventing the punch from connecting. The two men stared hard at one another, their gazes locked. Neither man was willing to give even an iota of satisfaction to the other by looking away.

"Alright." Gillilion shoved her face into the dirt one last time for good measure before finally releasing her hair from his grip. "She will be in your Braid one day, Captain, hope it doesn't cost you your life. Bad enough you have to help train greens, but damn this one and that limp dicked Ezra are of little use to her Majesty. She fights like a woman, and Ezra just doesn't fight... Both are pathetic, and fucking useless." He got up and stormed off of the practice yard, heading towards the officers' house.

  "Really, Indys? ... The taint?"

Indys rolled over and spat out a mouthful of blood. "Good thing you came when you did, Niko. If that fight would have gone on any longer... You know I only had one more place to send his tongue." She gave Captain Niko, of house Adze, the same sarcastic, bloody smile that Gillilion had received.

"You could've simply yielded," Niko spoke through gritted teeth.

"T'ain't my nature to do that." She grabbed her sword and pulled herself up off of the ground.

Niko gave her a resigned smile, shaking his head at her tainted humor.

Captain Niko Adze was Captain of the Queen's Third Braid and would soon be her Commanding Officer. The Queen's Braids were the kingdom's first line of defense against Vampires, Werewolves, and Dragons. Since their inception nearly eight hundred years ago, they had brought the Human race back from the brink of extinction - driving all the man eaters back to parts unknown. The Vampires pushed to the unexplored mountains beyond The Splinted Pass; one of the Queen's Braids was stationed along its great expanse, making sure the Vampires honored their treaty and stayed on their side.

The Werewolves were pushed to the rolling sands of the south: The Eternal Misery, often referred to as The Scorch, where the sun baked sands swallowed them up. There, too, the Queen had a Braid stationed to watch the desert border. With orders to kill any strays that might try and return to hunt man upon sight, the Braid had quickly taught the banished that they were the dominate force in the theater.

The Dragons were pushed back and held captive in the shadows of the Queen's Lance, the capital of the Human Empire. They had not been heard from, let alone seen, in centuries now. It was as if they had run as far away from the Humans as possible; yet the Queen still insisted that a Braid stay on guard against them within the capital. The people residing within the walls of the great city appreciated the presence of the Alabastar Dracgons and the feeling of security that came along with it.

The Queen's Braids consisted of three Alabastar Dracgon's in each. The First Braid was led by Eno of House Tine, along with Abel of House Pierce, and Zec (also called 'Popper') from House Bastion. They were stationed to the south, along the border of The Scorch, patrolling for wayward Werewolves.

The second Braid was led by Hod of House Raze, with Nate of House Skean, and Qwen or "Q" of House Qwel under his command. These Dracgons were stationed at the Bridge of the Ancients, ever watchful for wandering Vampires.

Rounding out the Braids was the Third. Led by Niko of House Adze, and consisted of herself, and Ezra of House Cleave. The three Braids were all part of the Queen's inherited power, passed on through the generations. To the world, they were known as the Queen's Reigns. No one knew, truly, how the Houses had come by these great powers; only that they were spawned at the Reckoning, which had gone horribly wrong all those hundreds of years previous.

    Indys remembered the stories; how the Reckoning was supposed to be a celebration. Instead, it had turned into a massacre that left all of the great Houses both desolate and leaderless. Somehow, the Dragon Grimore had used his last bit of Dragon Magic to kill all of the nobles before perishing himself to become part of the Alabastar Throne.

The only survivor that day had been the great Queen Lesna, the first Alabastar Queen. She was the woman that brought man back from the abyss; whose very lineage still protected all mankind to this day. Queen Lesna, naked and covered in blood, had emerged from the throne room that day with the great Alabastar sword in hand. The magnificent tale of how she had fought for her life and killed the great Grimore with the enchanted blade had become the legacy of the Humans. This great victory had shown all of mankind that Lesna, and her lineage, were blessed by the Known and cemented her undoubted right to rule.

Lesna had led man through the Vampire Wars, using her wisdom and magic to drive the blood suckers back to the northernmost peninsula, across the Bridge of the Ancients and to the mountain tops. She had made a deal with the Vampire leaders; promising to rein in the Alabastar Dracgons so long as another Vampire was never again to be seen south of the Bridge. That treaty had been cemented over six hundred years ago, with only few Vampires attempting to make their way south annually.

Now the Vampires both feared and answered to the Humans. The Vampires would inform the northern patrols when they thought that one of their own was likely to attempt to cross. On a few occasions, the Vampires had even killed the suspected defector to prevent a crossing attempt and violation of the treaty. No one was quite sure why the Queen had agreed to such a truce, but none questioned her thoughts or reasons for the decision. She had, after all, saved the Human race with her wisdom.

After the Vampires were successfully conquered, Queen Lesna had turned her attention to the Werewolves. They didn't number nearly as many as the Vampires, and driving away their many factions had proven surprisingly easy. With the Alabastar Dracgons able to sniff out a Werewolf in "human" form, they didn't have to wait until the full moon to hunt them. A Werewolf in "human" form, while formidable, was not nearly as dangerous as when powered by the light of the moon.

With the Werewolves Lesna had been lenient as well; this time citing that the Werewolves were still human by day, and therefore were deserving of a chance to leave willingly. Thus, many cursed with the Wolf's Bite had left the kingdom willingly. Entire families were packed up, some members Cursed and some not. A small number of clans had gone north to be with the Vampires, while the majority headed south beyond the Sands of Eternal Misery. Only the Known knew exactly what was to be found in those accursed lands. Unsurprisingly, the southern border was the most active. Mangy, ragtag packs of mongrels attempted to cross the sand, only to be hunted and killed by one of the Queen's Braids, on a regular basis.

It was on these three fronts that Lesna had established her kingdom here on Nazra; one that watched her rule for nearly three hundred years until her death. No one knew, not even the Queen herself, why she had managed to lived so long. Most believed that her long life was a gift bestowed on her by the Known for the part she played in freeing man. Others believed it was something she had gained by killing Grimore and somehow taking his magic for herself. Whichever it was, all of mankind was proud to have Lesna on their side and willing to follow wherever it was that she led.

It had been a tragic day, the day that death finally claimed her. A shroud of grief and sadness infested the hearts of many Humans upon the proclamation from the palace had been heard. After almost three hundred years of security, due entirely to her rule, Humans were left wondering what the future held. They'd all lived in fear that their dominance over the other predators inhabiting their world would end at any moment. The visceral fear that the oppressed would rise up and destroy them all in a shower of blood and carnage had been something impossible to suppress.

However, the Alabastar Queens that followed proved to be just as wise as Lesna, each successor proved that the blood of the first Alabastar Queen flowed strongly within their veins. Although none lived to be as old as Lesna, all enjoyed longer life spans than normal Humans. The current Queen was five generations removed from Lesna, and Queen Reyna was proving to be just as formidable as her four times great-grandmother.