Hjolnai

Ordolar ran over to the Loremaster, and said, "I see you wield magic. See if it can harm that slime! I can deal with these lesser foes." He then grabbed Kikuyu by the shoulder, hauling her one-handed up into a tree beyond the reach of the long dead. Charging off once again, crushing all undead in his path, the orc soon arrived at a tree with a lizardlike figure hidden in it. "Wyvern, have you an antislime tool?"

Hearing an end to the screams, Sir Ordolar looked to their now-visible location. Seeing the now unconscious Kikuyu, he yanked his sword so hard that it tore down the tree it was embedded in, in defiance of all reasonable expectation. Shouting "Aasharam!", he charged through the ranks of the enemy, scattering and occasionally destroying foes. His heavy boots caused more harm in that charge than his blade, but now he controlled the sword with both hands (despire his shield), and no more trees impeded his progress. The ensnared undead around the Loremaster were soon sliced neatly in half, and then the orc heard a call for help. He lumbered off towards Sir Walnut, then saw the slime. He slashed at it with his blade, but although his sword crisped the edges, the globs so made were every bit as nasty as (and much larger than) those made by Walnut's measured slices. He muttered "May the Lord of Justice grant me some insight into a weakness of this creature", but his prayer was not answered. Realizing that he could do nothing against the slime, Sir Ordolar shouted, "Destroy the undead, then we'll come back to this! It's too slow to stop us!" The knight then charged off to smash more skeletons, cut open more ghouls, and take apart several zombies. His talents were well-suited to this somewhat lesser task.

Sir Ordolar slammed his hatchet into some ghoul ribs, shattering bones, and drew back the axe to find the head missing, and the wood of the handle broken. Then he heard the screams. He tossed away the broken handle, then drew a massive, 7-foot sword one-handed, and light burst into the woods. Undead creatures scattered, then turned back to tear the light source apart, but the huge orc knight was already lumbering toward the source of the screams... A group of perhaps ten ghouls and seven zombies stood in his path. Five seconds later, the group was scattered, with three already crumbling to dust, and another impaled by a branch, which it was slammed onto by a large shield. Charging so quickly, Sir Ordolar could not hope to keep his heavy sword in check one-handed, and suddenly he jerked to a halt. His sword was halfway through a small tree. The endless Undead ranks came marching slowly nearer...

Just as Sir Walnut is about to get up, Sir Ordolar gulps down a mouthful, and says, "Wait. After that fight we all need some time to recover. I know it's hard, but we'll do Degorram no good if we get ourselves killed, and fatigue will make that likely. Oh, and do try this travel food, it may not look very appetizing, but it's surprisingly tasty, and it keeps forever, which is why it's still available when the recipe was lost a century ago." After a brief rest and meal for those who tried a bite of the travel food (which was actually considerably better than many non-travel meals), the group moved on. As they began to move, Sir Ordolar spoke to Sir Walnut; "The title "Sir" usually applies to either knights of holy orders, or to nobility. Which would pertain to you?"

Just as Sir Walnut's defense was about to fall, there came a roaring shout. This proved the last straw, distracting Sir Walnut, and the vampire leaped forward... only to be intercepted by a juggernaut of steel. The vampire was slammed against a tree, pinned between two branches. For all its strength, the Undead creature could not push past the huge shield forcing it against the tree, since Sir Ordolar had his footing firmly on the other side, leaning hard against it. An awful screeching began, as the vampire tried to tear apart the shield with its claws, but the shield held up under the pressure. The vampire tried to climb over the top, but Sir Walnut stuck his blade into the tree above the shield, and the vampire could not exert enough force to remove it. Still, Sir Ordolar was sorely tested by the might of the vampire, and his wits were not yet fully recovered. In the darkness, it was hard to tell exactly how firmly the orc could stand against this might... Suddenly, Kikuyu stood beside him. "The stake's ready. Stand aside and I'll stab it." "If I move, the foul thing will escape, and there'll be hell to pay! See if you can find the heart from the side!" Kikuyu did so, and suddenly it was over. The nightmare creature was now nothing more than a pile of dust, but who could say how many of its kind yet remained? "We must take the stake with us." said Sir Ordolar. "What, in case there are more?" "No, to burn it. The soul trapped in the vampire is now trapped in the stake, and only in burning it will we free that tortured being. Striking another vampire with the same stake will not kill the vampire, but merely bring back the slain one. My reading in the Order's small library told me this." With the monster dead, exhaustion began to sink in, along with a realization. The whirlwind of steel was pink because... The group all looked away (despite the darkness being too deep to really see anything), and Sir Walnut went behind a tree for a few minutes. When he returned, Sir Ordolar had brought out what looked like a large piece of sandstone. He broke it into four pieces with his hands, handing one to each person. Then he said, "So, werewolf and steel whirlwind, what would your name be, and what brings you to this dark wood?" He then bit into his piece of the object, which was obviously food, and not sandstone after all.

Knowing that an axe would be harmless to a vampire, Sir Ordolar dropped the weapon and grabbed the monstrosity by the throat, holding it back from biting anyone, but the vampire struggled with incredible strength, and the knight was thrown all around the area, colliding with a few trees occasionally. Still, he held his grip, not letting the vampire gain the freedom to use its superior agility (or its teeth) in combat. Still, Sir Ordolar was beginning to lose his hold, when suddenly a pink whirlwind of steel emerged from the darkness, hacking and slashing at the creature. This soon proved to be ineffective, but still distracted the vampire long enough for Sir Ordolar to say, "Get a wooden stake or some holy water! It won't die to a blade!" Then, the vampire resumed thrashing, this time trying to hurl the orc into the dancing blades of Sir Walnut. However, Walnut's skill was more than sufficient to strike at the vampire without hitting the heavy, armoured form. Meanwhile, Kikuyu and Wyvern searched for an effective weapon for vampiric destruction, but could find nothing in any of their bags, until Wyvern said, "Could the orc'ssss water bottle be holy?" "It's worth a try." Suddenly, Sir Ordolar and the vampire were both drenched, but the vampire merely shrieked, then continued thrashing. The water also made the vampire more slippery, and suddenly Ordolar flew several metres, landing in a tree with a crash. Now it was vampire against werewolf, and the vampire was not just strong, but fast as well. Only the incredible swordsmanship of Sir Walnut held it back, and at any moment the vampire would leap past those dancing blades... Sir Ordolar groaned in pain, then sat up. His head still ringing, he began to rise, knowing that he was needed. Suddenly, Kikuyu took up the orc's fallen axe, and began chopping at a nearby tree branch.

Tomorrow (or was it yesterday?) An exciting few hours, which I missed because I was busy reading and writing, and then all the action stopped. Got bored, wandered off, found a demon which must have been summoned by some irresponsible mage. It was eating dust bunnies, then throwing the remains at the walls. Tried to banish it, but it needed the summoner's name. The demon kept saying mine, rather than the name of its summoner. Tried throwing it out anyway, ended up teleporting myself into a different room. Three hours later, I got lost. Summoned a tree, which destroyed several rooms (oops), then threw myself into the next world. This one was orange. The ground was a strange texture, not unlike the skin of a lemon, but after cutting through it, some water halfway between red and yellow flooded out. Almost drowned, then visited the second world of the day by drowning and having an afterlife in a world of mountain lakes. Built a tower, but it fell down because I forgot the lower half. Then I collapsed myself and - Wait, is that a rainbow? No, it can't be, too much colour. Anyway, it's not that important... AAAAHHHHH!!!!! Being attacked by dust bunnies! Oh, never mind, they can't do much ha- They just tore the paper! Algrhthst arhn- Bah, writing incantations doesn't work. I'll say them instead. Now, what was I doing again? Oh yes, getting rid of the dust - dust? What dust? I don't have a feather duster! Oh well, can't be that important if I've forgotten again... How old am I now? 3018? Ah, yes, that rings a bell... that's how many birthdays I've remembered, but with my memory, my shoes are probably older than me. I threw the cat out the window, then fell into a lake. Got chased by a fly, killed the dragon blocking my escape, then fell into another lake. The fly drowned. A nightmare at midday, being chased by flying, burning books. Then they got wet, and stopped burning. On that topic, three days ago I think I died, but then, trees have a tendency to stay in the same place, and I don't. Probably got lost on my way to Hell, or with my luck, Heaven. Mr I H Eight tried to burn my house down, but I didn't have one, so he failed. Fell off another world and into next Tuesday, a place I hope never to go again. Wandered off, got lost halfway across the universe, and ended up back here. I found my room, which by an extraordinary coincidence was exactly where I'd left it, and then sat down to write some ridiculous fiction. Wrote three hundred pages of the best writing I've ever done (and in only 5 minutes!), then threw it out. Oh well, it was useless anyway. What was my name again?

As the giant pencil sharpener comes closer and closer, Hjolnai glares at it (although without visible eyes, it's hard to see that he's glaring). Just as it's about to begin cutting, the whole thing falls apart in a cloud of rust. Then, Hjolnai returns to his frantic struggling to escape, which seems to have no effect. One of the Dominions takes out an axe... Suddenly, the whole room explodes into motion. A magically-induced whirlwind tears through, blasting everyone with freezing gusts. The warrant for Wyvern's arrest is shredded, all occupants of the room are sent flying, and even the wallpaper is being torn, but still Hjolnai can't get free, and Jacobson cancels the whirlwind with two words, before conjuring another copy of the arrest warrant from midair. Jacobson now looks even angrier, if that were possible, and he nods towards the Dominion carrying the axe, then shouts at the top of his impressive voice, "ENOUGH!"

As the group walked deeper into the woods, the darkness grew deeper and deeper. Eventually, despite daylight having come above, it was as dark as night in the forest. Sir Ordolar whispered, "Be wary; this darkness can only be magical. I've heard that some Undead need the dark of night, and others are stronger in it. Be on your guard." The strange trio made preparations: Kikuyu checking the straps of many weapons, Wyvern took out a bag of miscellaneous Almost Dragonic weaponry, and Ordolar took a hand axe from its place strapped behind his large shield, explaining "If I draw my sword, it will bring light. Such can only draw attention to us." A small patrol of zombies shambled past, and Ordolar was obviously restraining himself from breaking cover to destroy their vileness. Kikuyu reminded him not to jeopardize the mission, whispering "The Necromancer would know if these fell." Ordolar nodded, and replied, "It angers me to see such evil unopposed, but for the greater good I will be patient. Time enough to clean up once the Necromancer is dead." A few minutes later... "Stop," Ordolar whispered. "What isss it thisss time?" was Wyvern's reply. "By Aasharam's gift, I sense a greater evil nearby." Kikuyu said, "Well, what can we do about it by waiting here? If there is something, we'll notice either the smell or the sound before it notices us." Suddenly, a batlike creature leapt upon Ordolar, trying to bite his neck. Fortunately, his armour protected him from the sharp fangs. He shoved at the creature, but while thin, the creature was tremendously strong. An axe blow also did little to harm it. The last vestiges of bat wings disappearing into its sides finally showed the truth. "A vampire!" Ordolar reached for his holy symbol, and after a few moments of struggling with the vampire, he brought it out. The vampire retreated, hissing, then leapt at the more distant Wyvern.

Name Ilathagrost Race Demonic (note that many demons are unique in features) Occupation Demonic minion Description A blue-skinned demon with two arms, each splitting at the elbow into two half-arms and hands. Each hand has between 3 and 7 claws, with all four hands having a "thumb" claw (or two). He has two legs, each with two joints instead of a single knee, and his skin is scaly and spined. His face is surprisingly human-like, although somewhat square and with three horns. His eyes are a glowing, fiery red, and his jaws are filled with triangular, sharp teeth. History Ilathagrost has, over the past seven thousand years, never had a single day in which he was not summoned and ordered around by at least 10 mages, necromancers, warlocks, witches, scientists, stronger demons and/or ancient artefacts. Through this astounding number of tasks, he has not had much time for plots of his own, although he is now known as a somewhat unreliable minion, because whenever he is summoned, it breaks the contract he was previously trying to fulfil. Personality Ilathagrost is very impatient (who wouldn't be in his position?), but other than that not very evil, considering his demonic nature. He takes some joy from evading tasks and frustrating masters by such means as leaving before the summoner has finished explaining them, and also from managing to do something he was not commanded to do (even if it doesn't harm anyone). In seven thousand years of being commanded to kill someone at least once each day, he has killed a grand total of three people, with all other such tasks being ended by a later summoning, or through his failure. Abilities Ilathagrost is quite proficient in the use of magic, particularly lengthy rituals (which he likes because they allow him to be doing something towards his task, while taking too long for him to have any chance of not being summoned away before their completion, and he enjoys frustrating masters). He is also a skilled linguist (he speaks 3793502 languages after so many tasks), and a reasonable fighter. However, he is not very inventive in his use of these abilities, and he certainly lacks the power of most demons. Equipment Anything he gets his hands on before the next summoning (he can't take it with him when summoned) Beliefs Ilathagrost is not a believer in any religion. He's never been around anywhere for long enough at a time to find one, and besides, he's a demon.

As Ordolar ties his horse, he intentionally uses a knot which will not hold, and whispers to the horse, "Let's not let them know everything just yet, they may think I'm mad if I tell them, but if the zombies return, just break free and run." You don't have to tell me, I know what you're doing. I'm not stupid, you know. "As I am reminded many times a day." Ordolar then takes his equipment, strapping his smaller shield to the larger, takes a pack of food, and begins to march clatteringly along the trail. He calls to Kikuyu and Wyvern, "Come along, we don't have much time!"

As the exhausted orc rides along the road, he sees two figures scamper into the bushes beside the road. Despite no audible commands being given, his horse stops with a clattering of hooves, and the orc dismounts. He looks towards the area where slight sounds of rustling leaves are coming from, and speaks tiredly: "You two hiding there, come out and identify yourselves; be warned, if you serve the evil which grips this land, Aasharam's justice will call my wrath upon you!" He waits for the two to come out of hiding; a ninja and an almost-dragon. Once they have given their names, Kikuyu and Wyvern, the orc calmly says, "I am Sir Ordolar, Knight of the Order of Aasharam, Lord of Justice. It seems to me that you are not minions of whatever evil has befallen this - " before he is interrupted by Kikuyu, "We hunt the Necromancer!" "A necromancer? This could be even worse than I thought." Ordolar sighs, "I really hate to do this, but I'm so tired... Aasharam, grant me the strength to continue serving you this day!" Suddenly, he seems much refreshed. "A pity, for now Aasharam shall not grant me another request for at least a day, but we have not the time for me to rest; let us avoid injury for the time being. Now, let us go and bring this Necromancer to justice!" Any minute now, he thought, one of them will accuse me of being a minion of this Necromancer...

For several minutes, there is the occasional loud "Clang" of hammer striking anvil. Then, there is silence for a short while, before Sir Ordolar enters, carrying a large cake, with the words "Happy Birthday Cheermynx" spelled out on top. The cake is already sliced, and when Ordolar puts it on the table, a nearby servant takes a slice. The servant bites down, then grimaces as his teeth strike a metallic surface. Ordolar then apologises: "Sorry, it's a model of a cake, in various metals, NOT a real cake. This one should be a cake to remember..." OOC: Happy birthday

Just as Wyvern is contemplating finishing up for the day, a large, blue-skinned demon walks into the room, covering the floor with the rubbish coating its unfortunate feet. It intones, "My master wishes me to say- Ha! I didn't have to say the rest because I left before he could command me further!" The demon then vanishes, only to reappear suddenly, this time somewhat cleaner, and bearing a scroll. This time, it says, "My 537'th master for today bids me to give you this scroll... but he only asked, and didn't command, so I'll be keeping it for myself!" Then, the luckless demon vanishes, summoned to its 538'th master for the day, leaving behind a faint smell of purple, and a rubbery feeling to the air. The recording camera, unable to cope with so much excitement, falls apart, in a manner which seems so simple to look at, but the wreckage looks like it might take weeks to repair.

After several encounters with Undead creatures, the shining armour of the orcish rider is left somewhat stained, and the orc himself is completely exhausted. His horse, too, is much the worse for wear; its brown coat is lined with red scratches, and the hooves are almost as bloodstained as the huge, glowing sword on the orc's back. Even worse, the number of zombies only seems to increase as the orc rides further along the road. It is now apparent that the darkness here is far too great for any warrior to stop alone. As the dawn breaks, relief washes over the orc, who has just seen a welcome sight: An enormous keep. He whispers in his horse's ear, and they burst into a gallop. Soon there will be rest, and allies to fight whatever malice grips this land.

At the same time, an orc walks along a road to the south, heading northward, leading a massive warhorse. He marches with a determined stride, but he does take the time to look to both sides when he hears rotting flesh moving. On seeing a large undead army approaching, he pulls out a huge glowing sword, and shouts, "Aasharam! For justice!". He charges into the ranks of the undead, slicing the rotten flesh as easily as if he was scything wheat. The shambling undead are no match for any warrior, let alone a tireless juggernaut such as this orc. However, their numbers are so vast that several minutes pass before the path is clear. The orc mutters, "This is a task fit for mages with fireballs, not for a Knight; a single spell would rid this place of many instantly. I cannot dispose of this horde, for I sense a more dire evil somewhere ahead..." The orc mounts his horse, and rides onward at a gallop. He is only hours from ascending the rise into view of the keep of the Pen...

Name Sir Ordolar Race Orc (the large, strong, stupid, green-skinned variety, although this particular orc isn't stupid) Occupation Knight of Aasharam History Ordolar was brought up by an order of Knights, after his clan was destroyed by some of said order, due to his clan having raided several villages. He was just a year old at the time. Since then, he has followed a path of justice, and has aided in the destruction of many evils. He has attained the rank of Knight, a full member of his order, and after this, he left the temple in search of righteous battle. Beliefs Ordolar believes that evil must be hunted down and stopped, no matter the cost. However, he will not kill individuals who may have had either no choice or no involvement, remembering his own heritage. Facing a Dark Lord, he will surely try to destroy the villain, but some of the foe's goblin slaves may survive his wrath. Abilities Ordolar is tremendously strong, not only having the strength of an orc, but also a disciplined exercise regime. Unlike most orcs, he has finesse as well as strength: he is among the most skilled users of two-handed-swords around. He is very intelligent for an orc, and he has a good grasp of strategy and leadership, but he certainly doesn't have the intelligence of a mage. He stands at least a head higher than even a normal orc, towering over most opponents, but this does not make him clumsy, due to his extensive training. He has a rare form of innate magic, which grants him a single prayer each day (although he believes that Aasharam grants this prayer, it is in actual fact a manifestation of this innate magic), if he or a companion is in great need, but this prayer has limited effects. He can heal minor wounds with this prayer, or he can temporarily increase his strength yet further, or a variety of other uses at need, but there will be no restoration of the dying (although he can prolong their life for a while, until a better healer arrives), or any similar power. At some point he will realize that he is using innate magic, but this seems likely to require very specific circumstances, as prayers being answered happens occasionally to orcs, whereas there are no cases of orcs with innate magic, as far as he knows. Ordolar is also a talented blacksmith. Equipment A small shield so brightly polished that it almost appears to be a mirror, which can reflect some spells (only if the spell is targeted straight at the shield, explosions can't really be reflected), and is almost indestructible, although the shield is quite small, so some attacks are hard to block or reflect. A large shield enchanted to be highly insulative; this shield is used in combat against elementals or dragons. Full plate mail, with minor protective enchantments. In particular, one spell (strength is of little importance) can be absorbed by the suit of armour every day, at the command of the wearer. A helmet which protects from gaseous attacks, allowing Ordolar to breathe easily in situations requiring its power A huge shining two-handed sword, which brings light even in the darkest of places, and which is so finely crafted that it can remain unharmed even should it strike stone. The Holy Symbol of Aasharam, serving no purpose except as identification It should be noted that most of Ordolar's equipment is designed to aid in battles against mages, because the power of magic can overwhelm even the mightiest of warriors with ease. However, enough power will overwhelm his defenses anyway. Horse Sir Ordolar rides a huge warhorse, (as yet unnamed), which has been trained in battle itself. The horse is highly intelligent, and has some degree of communication with its master. (Note: topic was given the wrong name {by 2 letters}, the real name is Ordolar) Mod edit: Corrected

Suddenly, there is a loud CRASH as a section of the ceiling falls in, along with several buckets filled with such rubbish as rat's brains and 3-century-old cabbage. This further adds to the confusion, as well as the general ill-health of the occupants of the room. A large blue head sticks in through the ceiling, and seems shocked at realizing that days of planning have resulted in the prank both a) striking the wrong people, and due to an error in calculations, affecting the wrong room. The blue-skinned creature falls through itself, where it is recognizable as a minor demon of no great evil, and even less luck. The clumsy creature then takes out a trident and inexpertly skewers a wall. Before it does any more damage, the creature vanishes, as it is summoned to do some master's bidding.

Today Wandered through three worlds. Chased by demon (was it an Arxltrxt, or a Grouthlaon? Must check) for half an hour, then got lost again. Demon got lost too, but I didn't find it. Yesterday was a whole world of tomorrows, tomorrow feels worse than ever. Forgot my name again, this time I think I'll call myself Blordran. Would have had my 3019'th birthday, but I went and forgot. Oh well, it'll keep until next year. Then I fell through my own magic and ended up in the second world. Sandy, hot, ice-covered and purple. A land of contrasts, or was that corn-paste? Lost my staff again, couldn't find it, so I went wandering again. Must remember to cast my memory-enhancer tomorrow - I forgot again today. A tree walked over and hit me, so I made it into a new staff. Note to self: don't try that again, the staff was all red, and fell apart. Strange trees of that world. Tried to teleport into city, but ended up on a molten planet. Too much fire, so I froze some into a stone staff. Then I went home. Now, where did I put that quill? Oh well, my finger works, although it does smudge the page. At home, I summoned a Yorluth, then forgot why. Banished it, then resummoned when I remembered. This time, I went and forgot to dismiss the demon, so it escaped. Oh well, I'm sure it'll turn up tomorrow. Why am I writing this down? Don't I have a memory? Oh well, I guess I... what was that again? I keep forgetti (The rest of the page is blank)

In response to TheResearcher's feedback (I do not have permission to post in the Critic's Corner), I would first like to say that I'm grateful for the feedback (and the welcome), thank you. I have considered TheResearcher's remarks, and I think I'll either edit the story to be in third person, or expand more on thoughts and feelings, as suggested. The story was not really intended to be an RP-based one, so those alternatives seem to fit in best with the way I want to go. If anyone else has a comment, please feel free to post it. I'm always open to constructive criticism or any advice or comments, and praise where deserved is always pleasant. Mod edit: moved from story thread on request by Hojnai. To other who wishes to comment but cannot post here at CC, I suppose Hjolnai won't mind any feedback in the thread or by PM. ~Tanny

The glowing stick arises from the ground to stand tall again, hovering over to Jacobson. This time, the voice from within is somewhat threatening... "Didn't your people learn the first time that hunting me down was a bad idea? And how did you find me anyway? It should be impossible for those of your paltry divination skills!" Jacobson angrily replies, "So you're supposed to be Wyvern? T-", only to be interrupted. "Wyvern!" the staff laughs. "So you're not here for me after all? Such a coincidence must be fate, for only yesterday did I arrive here! So, you remember not the events of a year ago, in your so-called library? Let me remind you... My name is Hjolnai; there, does that refresh your memory?" "Look, I don't care who or what you are, not even if you were Satan himself, so long as you're not Wyvern! Now, begone!" The staff seems rather angry at being dismissed in such a manner, and so fills the room with hundreds of illusionary walls (meaning that no one can see more than about 1m, as the "walls" appear at 1 metre intervals).

I try to use my magical barrier to push my way through the lines of slaves, but whenever one is knocked aside, they just move into a new blocking position. I add a minor pulse of lightning, but the shock is not enough to stop them reforming their lines again and again. A new idea seems to be forming in my mind, but if I think about it, the idea merely moves further away. I decide to keep pushing, and let the idea come in its own time. As I continue pushing through the mob, I hear a strange sound. It seems to be some sort of growl, but somehow different to any creature I have ever seen. Then, I see the source. A large steel cart is moving at an amazing rate (and without a horse!) toward the mob. It screeches to a halt just before the first enslaved townsperson, and the doors open. Out jump two people, bearing the thunderweapons known to be deadly artifacts of Science. They open fire with the incredibly loud weapons, and hundreds of metal pieces bounce off my magical shield. Several townsfollk are riddled with holes from the rebounds, and fall dead upon the ground. This tragic loss of life is not lost on me, and so I endeavor to hold the projectiles still at my shield, but that is so draining... Then the idea which was hiding at the back of my mind comes out. I immediately begin spellcasting, and suddenly a bright light flashes out. I have my eyes closed, and so I am not harmed, but the light banishes the hypnotism of former lights, and is temporarily blinding. In the time the Science-warriors take to recover, I walk over to them and disarm them. The furious townsfolk leap upon them and tear them apart. I summon a portal to return the people to their town, and as they mournfully drag their dead through, I remain behind. I will find out what is wrong here. I will not let these evil creatures get away with this! I search through the dark, smoke-filled room for some clue, but all I find is more horseless carts and metal "trees". I am just about to leave, but then I step on something which moves... and fall down a trap door. Dust follows me down a long, winding tunnel as I slide. Evidently, this trap door has not been used for a long time. I prepare a shield to stop myself from being killed when I reach the bottom. I pass several side-passages as I go down, down, down, for several minutes, until at last I land in a small cave filled by a pond. I climb out of the pond and into a corridor leading to the right. (To be continued)

A magical staff hovers into the room. A voice is heard from within it. "What is this? An Akashan? I thought-" and then the staff ceases to speak, as it realizes that it is being stared at in a rather unpleasant manner.It drops to the ground, and begins to pretend to be an ordinary carved stick. This attempt is futile, as the glowing crystal shards embedded in the wood continue to emit magical light. As one of the Dominions which accompanied the messenger bends over to touch the staff, there is a flash of lightning. The Dominion is hurled to the other side of the room, and it slams against the wall, smashing several priceless ornaments before crashing to the ground, groaning in pain.

Suddenly, another portal opens to the strangely overcolourful world. An orc in full-plate armour comes charging through, then the portal closes. The orc appears confused for a moment, looking around, and then growls as he realizes that the mage he was just about to smite has escaped again... The orc, looks around, then takes out what is obviously a human holy symbol, though one from a different world. He speaks, in a somewhat orcish accent, saying "I am here to serve the light. As a Lightblade, I fear no enemy and will battle evil no matter how fearsome!" The orc looks around to see a huge dragon. He swiftly conquers his natural fear, and thinks quickly. I cannot fight the beast alone... I'll need to find allies. It doesn't seem to be killing anyone at the moment, so I should have time... Unfortunately, when the orc tries to sneak away, the clattering of his armour attracts the attention of the dragon.

A large tree blocks the road. The tree has evidently been growing there for some time, because it towers nearly 100 metres to the top, but also obviously hasn't, as I walked this road only yesterday. I cast a spell to dispel any illusion, but when I look again, the tree still stands solidly in the middle of the road. Being a somewhat inquisitive person, I examine the tree more closely. The bark has a different texture to that of the trees lining the road, the leaves are an odd hexagonal shape, and all sections of the tree are in twos. The trunk is split in two, each of the two sections of the trunk has two limbs reaching out from it, each of those limbs has two boughs branching out, and so on, until it reaches the leaves. Having now examined the curious tree to some extent, I decide that I should probably climb the tree, as I cannot see the top through the somewhat thick foliage. When I grasp a section of the tree, in order to climb, there is an awful shriek, as if the earth itself were in pain. Then, several of the hexagonal leaves fall from their branches, and sail down towards me. I soon discover that they are quite sharp, as I suffer a nasty cut to my hand. I immediately jump out of the tree. This time, I decide to analyze the magical nature of the tree. To my surprise, I find no arcane residues whatsoever surrounding the tree, other than those which would be found around a well-crafted suit of armour. There is no magic involved, but metalwork has surely been practiced here. How is this possible? I come to a decision, and knock on the tree as if it were a door. It feels metallic under my fist. I wait a few minutes for some result, but nothing more happens. I come to another decision, and return to the town I currently reside in, seeking a Ranger, druid, or possibly a cleric for a second opinion. Unfortunately, this town happens to be rather lacking in magic, and I soon discover that there's not a single magic-user wielding a different type of magic in residence. I also soon discover that all roads out of here are blocked in the same treelike manner. Very puzzled, I- I suddenly notice the incredible sunset. I've never seen a sunset where all the clouds are covered in indescribably beautiful patterns of so many colours, and the brilliant sight is so wondrous it's - No! I tear my gaze from the wondrous sight, angry now. They tried to hypnotize me? Whoever it was, they'll pay for this! I realize that I have no choice but to get into a place where I'll no longer see this amazing- I cut that thought off, and run into my home. I magically force myself to sleep... When I wake up, I find myself in a completely different place. Here there is a nasty tang to the air, and every breath feels as though I'm being awfully poisoned. I whisper a few words to cleanse some of the air I need. Then, I look around to see that I'm in a factory of some kind. The townspeople are all around me, pounding at metal with hammers, making parts in a production line. I see the end result: More of the "trees" are being made. Here, their roots are raised above the ground, so they must not be permanent yet. With this realization, anger returns. How dare they enslave all these people? Not all technology is evil, but this certainly is! I decide to put a stop to this. I shout out, "You're all slaves to hypnotism! Fight it with all your willpower!". Now I begin to feel fear, as all the workers turn at once, and charge at me... They stop, forced to a halt by a glowing barrier of my own making. (To be continued)