[sup]*This story takes place fifteen years before the present game setting.
*Liberties have been taken with Gyr Abania and the culture of Ala Mhigan refugees. It is not my intent to lorebreak, so if future information directly contradicts the details of my story, I reserve the right to alter it to fit in with the lore.
*Please do not use this information ICly without discussing it with me first.
*The thread is not closed, and feedback is greatly appreciated, but to cut out some clutter, I'd appreciate feedback in the form of a PM if possible.
*These seven paragraphs are simply the first part of a larger short story. The short story is simply part of a larger collection of stories about Tancred's adventures between the fall of Ala Mhigo and the present. I didn't want to put down too much writing at once, because it tends to discourage casual readers.
*Feedback is encouraged. I've been working hard on this story and I'd like to know that someone actually read it or liked it or saw things that could be improved.
*This story is written to entertain you, the reader, so please enjoy it![/sup]
Through the Temple Primeval, Part I
      From a distance, the steep cliff seemed to rise out of the highlands of Gyr Abania like a wall at the edge of the world. It had sat silent for hundreds of years, undisturbed and uninviting. The cliff itself seemed to invoke thoughts of a grisly death to all who gazed upon it. At a closer look, one could see six sunburned and tired figures making their way slowly up the glowering wall, like ants up the wall of a great castle. They worked in silence, pulling themselves up with iron muscles at a snail's pace. These stoic men set out from their camp with a dozen more just like them. The six who remained were the smartest and strongest; the most fit to survive.
           In the past seven years since the fall of their homeland of Ala Mhigo, they had lost hundreds to the weathering of the wilderness. The frail engineers who had made their city so powerful from inside their walls had faded to illness, injury, or exhaustion and the men and women left were barbarians. Due to their heritage, they had been chiseled into a rare breed of intellectual savage. At the same time both ruthless and calculating, but full of compassion for their fellow refugee. One of these such men was Tancred, a youth who had been nearly thirteen at the time of the invasion and had fled, with many of his people, to safety after his parents fell to the gunfire of the Garlean war machine. And now, Tancred was climbing the greatest stone wall of the countless crags of his foreboding home.
           Tancred had answered the call when Berdic Stormhome, the camp's strongest warrior, had asked for fifteen able-bodied men to follow him in a quest to find the legendary Dire Hammer. Tancred was the sixteenth volunteer. Despite being the tallest of the group, he was the youngest, and slightest of muscle. He was brought along as fodder, but had proven himself worthy, and now was one of the six surviving members. Tancred Smithson, Berdic Stormhome, Rold Redhand, Fergus Ironshield, Kyre Stone, and Aldred the Younger comprised the climbers, and they had just found what they were searching for.
           "Look! Just above us!" Rold shouted, as he shot his left hand off of the rocks and pointed at a ledge, leading to a cave, in the cliff's wall. "Just as the story says." Berdic sighed in relief. The six men quickened their pace to the lip of the opening. Rold was the first man into the cave, and he immediately assisted Berdic into the hole. Next was Tancred, whose foot slipped clumsily on the way up. Berdic rolled his eyes at the youth, wondering how such a weakling had made it as far as he had. Tancred looked away, embarrassed, and quickly turned back to aid Aldred and Fergus into the mouth of the cave. The last traveler had been Kyre, who was still out of reach for even Tancred's arms to grab hold of. The five warriors had been content to sit and wait for their comrade to reach the top. Kyre was strong and intelligent and none doubted his climbing prowess. He was taking much longer than expected, but was still full of energy and able to scale the wall with cat-like grace.
           The tired refugees stretched out their bodies and enjoyed the cool air coming up from the deeper reaches of the cave's tunnel while waiting for their slower friend. Tancred alone felt uneasy about the alien terrain they had entered. He walked cautiously deeper into the cave. The others, by habit at this point, paid Tancred no mind. As he crept further down into the blackness, he began to hear noises. A rustling here and there. "Quiet!" Tancred barked at his companions who had been conversing loudly and congratulating themselves on their climb. "What did you say to me, boy?" Fergus shouted in reply, standing and dusting himself off. Tancred drew his late father's spatha from the scabbard he wore on his great bronzed back. He gripped the handle tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. Fergus stared at Tancred, confused and angered. "I asked you a question, weakling!" Fergus shouted. Tancred did not turn around to look at Fergus. His keen eyes were attempting to peer into darkness in hopes of finding his would-be foe.
           Faster than any could react, a large black monstrosity rocketed from the cave, flapping terrible leather wings. It screeched and wailed, and its great disgusting eyeball scanned the cave on its flight into the scorching sun. Tancred, with the speed of a cobra, had dropped to the ground, supporting himself on his ten fingers and the balls of his feet just in time to avoid the monster's deathly grip. His four companions gasped in horror from behind him. Tancred turned to see the beast returning to its roost from outside of the cave. Aldred took his bow from his back and an arrow from his quiver. He fired upon his assailant, but it dove to avoid the missile. In one swift motion, it snatched Kyre from the cliff wall with its mighty grip. The cyclops's claws dug deep into Kyre's torso, and he screamed in agony. Aldred's hand trembled as he withdrew a second arrow with which to slay his enemy. He struck the right wing of the beast, and in what seemed to be almost gleeful retribution, the beast tore the head off of Kyre with razor teeth. It hurled the body of its victim into the cave. The corpse landed atop Rold, who fell to his back at such a blow. This time, Aldred fired with conviction, and pierced the eye of the monster. It moaned and cried as thick, black blood gushed from its face like oil. As it struggled to stay in the air on its one functioning wing, spinning around in pain, Fergus scrambled to take the axe off of Kyre's back. He hurled the mighty hatchet with all of his strength, and it cleaved into their enemy's skull. Its lifeless body fell into the clouds below and the danger halted as quickly as it had begun.
           Rold pushed the corpse of his ally off of his body and sat upright against the wall of the cave. "What in the Hells was that thing, Stormhome?" He demanded. Tancred picked up the sword, which he had dropped in the chaos, and put it into its scabbard. He dusted his hands off and joined the rest of the group. "I am sorry. No mortal foot has entered these caves in hundreds of years. I did not expect trouble of this kind." Berdic answered, staring at the limp body and dripping neck of his fallen follower. Berdic alone knew where he had led his warriors. Over the course of weeks, the group had suffered hardships at the malevolent hands of wind, rain, sun, animals, and bandits. They had lost twelve brave souls along the way, and their danger had just begun.
*Liberties have been taken with Gyr Abania and the culture of Ala Mhigan refugees. It is not my intent to lorebreak, so if future information directly contradicts the details of my story, I reserve the right to alter it to fit in with the lore.
*Please do not use this information ICly without discussing it with me first.
*The thread is not closed, and feedback is greatly appreciated, but to cut out some clutter, I'd appreciate feedback in the form of a PM if possible.
*These seven paragraphs are simply the first part of a larger short story. The short story is simply part of a larger collection of stories about Tancred's adventures between the fall of Ala Mhigo and the present. I didn't want to put down too much writing at once, because it tends to discourage casual readers.
*Feedback is encouraged. I've been working hard on this story and I'd like to know that someone actually read it or liked it or saw things that could be improved.
*This story is written to entertain you, the reader, so please enjoy it![/sup]
Through the Temple Primeval, Part I
      From a distance, the steep cliff seemed to rise out of the highlands of Gyr Abania like a wall at the edge of the world. It had sat silent for hundreds of years, undisturbed and uninviting. The cliff itself seemed to invoke thoughts of a grisly death to all who gazed upon it. At a closer look, one could see six sunburned and tired figures making their way slowly up the glowering wall, like ants up the wall of a great castle. They worked in silence, pulling themselves up with iron muscles at a snail's pace. These stoic men set out from their camp with a dozen more just like them. The six who remained were the smartest and strongest; the most fit to survive.
           In the past seven years since the fall of their homeland of Ala Mhigo, they had lost hundreds to the weathering of the wilderness. The frail engineers who had made their city so powerful from inside their walls had faded to illness, injury, or exhaustion and the men and women left were barbarians. Due to their heritage, they had been chiseled into a rare breed of intellectual savage. At the same time both ruthless and calculating, but full of compassion for their fellow refugee. One of these such men was Tancred, a youth who had been nearly thirteen at the time of the invasion and had fled, with many of his people, to safety after his parents fell to the gunfire of the Garlean war machine. And now, Tancred was climbing the greatest stone wall of the countless crags of his foreboding home.
           Tancred had answered the call when Berdic Stormhome, the camp's strongest warrior, had asked for fifteen able-bodied men to follow him in a quest to find the legendary Dire Hammer. Tancred was the sixteenth volunteer. Despite being the tallest of the group, he was the youngest, and slightest of muscle. He was brought along as fodder, but had proven himself worthy, and now was one of the six surviving members. Tancred Smithson, Berdic Stormhome, Rold Redhand, Fergus Ironshield, Kyre Stone, and Aldred the Younger comprised the climbers, and they had just found what they were searching for.
           "Look! Just above us!" Rold shouted, as he shot his left hand off of the rocks and pointed at a ledge, leading to a cave, in the cliff's wall. "Just as the story says." Berdic sighed in relief. The six men quickened their pace to the lip of the opening. Rold was the first man into the cave, and he immediately assisted Berdic into the hole. Next was Tancred, whose foot slipped clumsily on the way up. Berdic rolled his eyes at the youth, wondering how such a weakling had made it as far as he had. Tancred looked away, embarrassed, and quickly turned back to aid Aldred and Fergus into the mouth of the cave. The last traveler had been Kyre, who was still out of reach for even Tancred's arms to grab hold of. The five warriors had been content to sit and wait for their comrade to reach the top. Kyre was strong and intelligent and none doubted his climbing prowess. He was taking much longer than expected, but was still full of energy and able to scale the wall with cat-like grace.
           The tired refugees stretched out their bodies and enjoyed the cool air coming up from the deeper reaches of the cave's tunnel while waiting for their slower friend. Tancred alone felt uneasy about the alien terrain they had entered. He walked cautiously deeper into the cave. The others, by habit at this point, paid Tancred no mind. As he crept further down into the blackness, he began to hear noises. A rustling here and there. "Quiet!" Tancred barked at his companions who had been conversing loudly and congratulating themselves on their climb. "What did you say to me, boy?" Fergus shouted in reply, standing and dusting himself off. Tancred drew his late father's spatha from the scabbard he wore on his great bronzed back. He gripped the handle tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. Fergus stared at Tancred, confused and angered. "I asked you a question, weakling!" Fergus shouted. Tancred did not turn around to look at Fergus. His keen eyes were attempting to peer into darkness in hopes of finding his would-be foe.
           Faster than any could react, a large black monstrosity rocketed from the cave, flapping terrible leather wings. It screeched and wailed, and its great disgusting eyeball scanned the cave on its flight into the scorching sun. Tancred, with the speed of a cobra, had dropped to the ground, supporting himself on his ten fingers and the balls of his feet just in time to avoid the monster's deathly grip. His four companions gasped in horror from behind him. Tancred turned to see the beast returning to its roost from outside of the cave. Aldred took his bow from his back and an arrow from his quiver. He fired upon his assailant, but it dove to avoid the missile. In one swift motion, it snatched Kyre from the cliff wall with its mighty grip. The cyclops's claws dug deep into Kyre's torso, and he screamed in agony. Aldred's hand trembled as he withdrew a second arrow with which to slay his enemy. He struck the right wing of the beast, and in what seemed to be almost gleeful retribution, the beast tore the head off of Kyre with razor teeth. It hurled the body of its victim into the cave. The corpse landed atop Rold, who fell to his back at such a blow. This time, Aldred fired with conviction, and pierced the eye of the monster. It moaned and cried as thick, black blood gushed from its face like oil. As it struggled to stay in the air on its one functioning wing, spinning around in pain, Fergus scrambled to take the axe off of Kyre's back. He hurled the mighty hatchet with all of his strength, and it cleaved into their enemy's skull. Its lifeless body fell into the clouds below and the danger halted as quickly as it had begun.
           Rold pushed the corpse of his ally off of his body and sat upright against the wall of the cave. "What in the Hells was that thing, Stormhome?" He demanded. Tancred picked up the sword, which he had dropped in the chaos, and put it into its scabbard. He dusted his hands off and joined the rest of the group. "I am sorry. No mortal foot has entered these caves in hundreds of years. I did not expect trouble of this kind." Berdic answered, staring at the limp body and dripping neck of his fallen follower. Berdic alone knew where he had led his warriors. Over the course of weeks, the group had suffered hardships at the malevolent hands of wind, rain, sun, animals, and bandits. They had lost twelve brave souls along the way, and their danger had just begun.
