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I ran my hands through my ashen curls and rubbed down my arms, taking out a rag and sharpening stone. I began to sharpen my sword that I had been gifted from my father before I left to join our Lord Kastors' army. I looked up to the knight who was in charge of training the recruits, Sir Robbert, who was biting into a crisp apple while leaning on a post. The training for the day had gone well, no injuries happened and Sir Robbert even made a comment on me having a good spear thrust for the son of a blacksmith.

I took the compliment to heart and worked all the harder to be the best of the recruits. Sir Robbert was a average height man with shoddy black hair, light blue eyes, a muscled frame, and a good leader of men. He had served in The Order of the Hydra and had been allowed honourable retirement to train recruits for his good service. I began swinging my blade in a figure eight, practicing spins and lacerating sweeps. As the blade came back to where my shoulder had to make a wide arc to continue the figure eight, a searing pain lit up my shoulder. Dropping the sword I clutched my arm and looked around to make sure no one saw me. Sir Robbert had, he tossed down his apple and walked across the encampment to me.

'Henry is it?'

'Yes Sir Robbert that is my name.' I spoke quickly and tried to not make eye contact. looking away or down at the dirt I did whatever possible to try and relieve stress. Looking back up slowly I saw that Sir Robbert, had my sword in his hand. I steadily put out my hand to grasp the sword and without warning he rammed the hilt into my gut, crumpling to the dirt I groaned in pain.

'Get up then Henry, never drop your sword it is your life. Without it you die.' tossing the sword down to the dirt I looked up to Sir Robbert, he nodded towards the sword.

'Up.' he said more forcefully. Grabbing my sword I stood and dropped into a defensinve stance, He nodded me on, encourgaing me to strike at him, so I did. With a figure eight lead I went to swipe across his mid section, something he deflected with ease with a small dagger he'd pulled from his surcoat.

'That all you've got boy? Maybe you should've stayed a smith.' Exhaling I focused on him more closely. He was old, and although he had a dagger which allowed greater mobility. But he was old, and when he moved he had a slight drag in his left leg. I decided this was to be my key. I took a few wild sweeps to get him onto a defense mode. He was holding out under my wide sweeps and left himself exposed. I took my chances, lifting my heel I drove it down as hard as I could into his knee. Sir Robbert roared in agony as his knee buckled and he went down to one knee. Exhaling loudly he stammered to get out his words.

'Thats...That's enough Henry.. You'll make a fine soldier.. dismissed.' I looked around and without knowing at some point in our duel, the other recruits and some of the actual soldiers had come around and watched. I surveyed the crowd. Mostly no names and a few soldiers, however one character of note had shown, A knight in heraldic mail of The Order of the Hydra. When I saw him I called attention

'Hydra!' with that simple word, all the men hurried into rows and snapped to attention. The knight walked to rows slowly inspecting the ragtag group of recruits. His great red cape billowed after him as he walked, while his mail made a slurring jingle. He stopped and raised his hand looking in the rows back and forth.

'I have only ever seen a peasant beat a Hydra, once..' The knights voice was resonant and filled our muster yard. He began pacing as he slowly dropped his hand, then brought both back to lock behind his back.

'That peasant turned out to be Order Champion Graham, he didnt only beat the Hydra, he outright slayed him.' The knight stopped, looking to the tents that resided down about 600 meters with bright fires burning round them.

'Surley you've all heard of Graham? The only Hydra to not be of noble blood, and to be the only Order Champion not of noble blood. We'll men of our Lord Kastors realm, you hold before you a Champion in the making, rejoice in that you have held air with him.' The knight pulled off his helm revealing himself. Awe and disbelief broke through the ranks as everyone looked upon Lord Kastors. Immediatly everyone dropped to their knee and bowed their heads to Lord Kastors. He walked to me and grabbed my shoulder.

'Come, boy, you shall train with only the best today.' walking away from the recruits encampment I suddenly noticed that we were being followed from a distance. I clutched my sword tightly and my knuckles began turning white and hurt badly. I leaned over to Lord Kastors and began speaking.

'My Lord Kastors, someone is following us.' speaking quietly I nodded back to the shadowy figure that was following us from a distance. Lord Kastors looked back and nodded.

'Indeed my boy we are. Kill him.' The orders were clear cut and very blunt. I turned around as Lord Kastors kept walking on.

'And be quick about it!' he called out as he sauntered off. I drew my sword and began with some figure eights. As the figure closed in, It drew a wicked blade and started running towards me. I dropped into a defense mode and assessed the situation. Assassin, below average high, short blade roughly 2 feet long. Weaknesses? seems to be twitching from the fire. Desired avenue of attack? defense. Game time

The assassin jumped at me with the grace and ferocity of a great cat arching back with its sword arm, it thrust at my chest. Foolish, I side stepped and cut blocked the sword out of my way, creating a lapse in time between, the recover and the prime oppurtunity of the assassin to strike at me. Hitting the ground and rolling the assassin stayed low trying to cut my achilles tendon. I threw down my heel onto the blade and brought my sword down in a coup de grace. Silencing the assassin the head rolled free off the shoulders. Adrenaline was pumping and I looked around breathing hard, I looked at the head of the assassin, it had a Griffon tattoo emblazoned across its back neck. I reached down and grabbed the head running to our Lord Kastors tent as quickly as possible, bearing the bad news.

Originally i'd had been recruited to be a light spear unit in our Lord Kastors' army, one of the most feared armies in the southern realms. Lord Kastors was a blunt and effective man, who lead exclusively from the vanguard with The Order of the Hydra, his personal elite bodyguard of 90 knighted heavy spearmen. It was one of the many wishes of every son in our Lord Kastors' realm to be a part of that holy order. In battle Lord Kastors had never been defeated, brutally crushing every opposing army that ever denied his sovereignty. Until a new name came into the picture, Lord Gerath and The Order of the Griffon. These foreigners came on by the hundreds of thousands burning through the western realm of Agralia. Cutting a huge swathe of the Empire of Agralia apart. Civilians tried to surrender only to be massacred and strung atop war beasts and caravans as sick trophies of war.

If this sick game was going to stop, it'd be up to our Lord Kastors' army. The Empire of Agralia was fracturing, their military mostly spent, and the central kingdoms home to Order of the Spider refused to aid anyone as they hid deep within their tunnels and underground cities. While our last hope laid to the east. The Order of the Dragon, our biggest rivals in everything were massing an army the likes of which had never been seen before. Rumors said, the whole world gathered under their banner, and they eyed everything west of their realm. In time I came to realize that the realms were at war, and I soon found myself at the front of it.

Oh my, this sounds like a great slaugther to come. And that is always a good thing

Ok this is awesome need more!!!

Sweat was beading on my forehead as I closed in on our Lord Kastors tent. I was tired and encumbered, but I knew that this head meant more than mine did so I kept running, I ran for the Hydra. I could see our Lord Kastors tent nearly 35 yards out, and I began slowing down to a light jog. I came into earshot of an Order Guard calling out to the him I screamed with my last ounce of breath contained within my lung.

'Griffon Assassin's!' and I threw the head with all the power I could muster. It soared into the air and landed short of the Order Guard. Hearing my warning, the Guard in turn screamed to the soldiers surrounding. I took heart that my warning had suceeded and I ran forth to get to our Lord Kastors. When I reached him I heard behind me a lone call that started woke the Hydra.

'Ambush!' the guard called out and the shout rang through the camps, shouts picked up from various corners of the encampment and within a ten minutes our Lord Kastors army had mustered, some 30,000 strong men. In a fraction of the time it had taken to rouse the Hydra there had been a deluge, not of rain nor hail, nor arrows, but a deluge of corpses. A sudden onset of slaughter came from our Lord Kastors enemy Lord Gerath and his Order of the Griffon knights.

From above the Griffons came, only 35 strong followed by a warhost of 800 horsemen. As they flew above us they dropped the corpses of Agralian civilians, and their war mounts bellowed archaic roars and shrieks, we could only stare on in horror as they blotted out the sun. Damned fools, we were born in the dark.

The mounted horsemen came riding through brandishing all manners of axes and hooked blades. Rushing through the massive encampment like a wave smashing on a rock they crashed into the disciplined lines of our Lord Kastors spearmen, By this time I had made it to a group of spearmen they had formed a spear wall and they were ready to be the rocky outcrop that breaks the wave. The horsemen came onto us and I could feel my breath being held shallow. I side stepped the horsemen as it came on and lofted the spear as quickly as possible and it met its target in the perfect place. Punching through the leather chest guard and dismounting the rider my spear snapped off in a most unpleasant manner, the tip and shaft lodged in his ribcage.

The Horse ran on and disappeared in the fires of the battle. A black mare with a white sock, It was beautiful, but gone. I turned back as the next wave came on. I was prepared until I realized I had no spear, thinking on my feet I drew my sword and picked up a board shield and crouched down. I was surrounded by six other Hydra soldiers, none of whom I recognized in the heat of the moment. The next wave broke into us, we took to hewing the legs on the horses then killing the riders. We had become a well oiled machine, working on a simple schedule of, Shield, Hew, Kill, Shield, Hew, Kill, Shield, Hew, Kill, Shield, Hew, Kill, Shield, Hew, Kill, Shield, Hew, Kill.

It was working we had cut them through like paper. There was a point where we had to climb over the bodies simply to take on the next wave. There was no stopping this hydra. We managed to cut back twelve waves if I'd remember correctly, although I couldn't exactly tell but as I looked about I saw a whole other story of madness unfolding.

The Griffons began diving down and striking at us, while the knights atop them gifted us with arrows of flame setting our camps ablaze. Other griffon riders throwing tridents and spears butchering men as they went. I looked on in horror, frightened and unmoving. I had never fought anyone before, much less Order knights of the Griffon. Death had purchased me, this I knew for certain as a Griffon circled ahead and dived down towards me to make its slaughter feast. Closing my eyes a fraction of a second before it hit me I exhaled, time stopped dead with a monstrous hiss, as I heard tents strick free of their holdings. Rushing with my scab squad we hid behind the bodies of horsemen and looked on to the madness.

The earth to my far left cracked and buckled from it was spawned the largest creature ever seen by my eyes. If an Adult Hydra was theorized the equivalent of a four story building, then this one was the equivalent of eighteen story buildings on steroids. The Hydras' first head to make it through the opening was the size of a war elephant. Six more gargantuan heads followed suit, peeling through the earths crust with the ease of a sharp knife cutting flesh. Compared to this Hydra the Griffons were like little flies that needed to be swatted down.

The Hydra did exactly that it went about thrashing and snapping as they went each tiny movement caused me to be thrown to the ground. I watched this god given gift destroy the Ambush party systematically. As they tried breaking and fleeing a second god-like Hydra tore free from the ground, Mounted by our Lord Kastors, while the other was by Graham. They tore apart the remaining Order knights of the Griffon with no trouble at all, all save one griffon, who'd broken free from the fight earlier on. Looking onto the carnage that had been done to our encampment was horrific, the smell of rotting flesh, and fire was rampant. I had always heard how the Order knights all really did ride atop their names. But I never understood it til now, where I found myself cowering in the shadow of the Hydra.

The ambush had been poorly planned as I had been led to believe, yet I had never been more wrong. From beneath our feet came the majority of the ambush party. In the most sacred place in all our temple dedicated to the Hydra. They had polluted a sacred ground with their unholy bodies.The first Griffon soldiers to come out were spotted by a Hydra lookout. Calling out in desperate plea's to whoever could hear him the lookout gained the attention of the Hydra. The Hydra ridden by Our Lord Kastors champion Graham rounded itself and chased the griffon soldiers down into the temple depths crushing them by the dozen. A large call of pain rang back through the gaping hole in the temple ceiling that led to the outer realms where we were.

An eerie silence fell on the battle field, as the Griffon soldiers slinked away into the flames of war, and the shallow wimper of the Hydra beneath us died down. Our Lord Kastors Hydra hearing the call of its mate rushed down into the temple depths while our Lord Kastors jumped clean free and landed with a barrel roll off it. Deep underground we heard the Hydra crying out for its dead mate. Cries which turned into shrieks which turned into roars of hateful rage. The Hydra unit I was attached to ran to help our Lord Kastors upon reaching him I called out.

'My Lord.. What has happened?'

'My boy, today we have a lost piece of our heritage, and I have failed our people as the head of the order.' I saw in our Lord Kastors the emotion of fear, shame, and fallen grace. He walked to the pit in the earth where the deep cries of the Hydra rang out. Taking off his signet ring with the 7 hydra heads that represented the seven temples that used to exist in the southern realms. One representing each head of the hydra. He looked at it and tossed it to me. When he looked into my eyes I saw my Lord's face, It was red hot and tears brimmed in the corner of his eyes.

'Save the Hydra, Henry for I cannot.' taking a slow step our Lord Kastors stepped off the side of pit and committed suicide. Dropping nearly four hundred feet into the black depths of the temple. No screams came from him. A small thump rang back, I assumed this was the body. My Hydra unit stood and looked on. I looked back and said simply.

'A head has been severed, yet another shall take its place. Let us walk my brothers and remember our Lord Kastors..' We stood, the wind at our backs blowing our cloaks over us. We had suffered grevious losses at the hands of the Griffon, I looked on and I felt a cold tingle in my heart, our Lord Kastors army was massacred, by a significantly smaller force. Some 8,000 Hydra soldiers had been killed, and the temple desecrated. The Hydra's revealed and one killed. Hell had a name. That name was The Order of the Griffon.

Well....Have you read much Greek myology and the beasts found in it? Because Griffons as far as I know never have nor will they spit fire. They are much more up close and personal, and also very teritorial. Added to their consiedrable inteligence they would not be well suited for the type of battle you describe.

And jumping Hydras? Really! I think this chapter is the weakest and most Mary Sue you have produced, granted its well told and such but its still way to one sided. And an ambush just dont happen after a few minuts, it happens suddenly and catches you of guard. So in all this has a lot of room for improvement.

Shoot, I'll begin working on it more, I had changed it around and didn't read through. I'll fix it asap. But thank you for pointing out this to me so I can work on it.

No problem, that is what you have evil overlords for you know

I looked down to the ruined temple where the Hydra had coiled itself atop its mate and mourned for it. I changed my eyes to the blood stained signet ring in my hand. It had the dried blood of the sacrifices on it. Cupping my hands I thought back to the stories my professor told me, of the Orders of old who rode atop the god beings. Hydra, Spider, Griffon, Dragon, and the one mythic god being that brought ruin to the realms who had only been defeated through the combined strength of all four orders. This god being was so powerful, it could not be guided or controlled, it could not be reasoned with. Our once most worshipped and idolized symbol, turned on us and slaughtered the realms through and through.

The Gods had grown tired of us and sent their destroyers. The Avatars were known as, The Hydra, The Spider, The Griffon, The Dragon and The Leviathan. They butchered the people and were relentless until the Avatar known as Hydra convinced his brothers Griffon, Spider, and Dragon to stop this madness. That the people needed to be spared, and it was the Gods who were in the wrong and so they stopped the genocide. Yet Leviathan said the humans must die, because he believed that we were weak and the worst mistake made by the Gods. He continued striking down nations within the realms until Hydra and his siblings crushed Leviathan in the most apocalyptic battle ever, a battle so huge it tore asunder the heavens. In the end when the dust settled and the victors stood tall. Leviathan was defeated and so imprisoned in the darkest depths of Nash'Valla. The Prison of the Gods located in the core of our world.

The empire of Agralia were once devoted to the worship of Leviathan, and so sided under his banner, when Leviathan was defeated, they were crushed, and forced to give up their God beings while Hydra, Griffon, Spider, and Dragon all came down into their earthly forms, and we were asked to guard them and worship them. We erected temples to them while they slumbered. They swore us blood oaths to protect us should we need it, and so came to be the Orders of the realms. Griffon had always been a temperamental and territorial beast, the lowest of the Avatars right after Leviathan, and in the last weeks we had found he had risen.

Millennia had turned him into a brooding and cold monster, the anger of being forced out of the heavens turned him into a killer, and in turn he poisoned the minds of his people. Turning their whole realm into a war host of untold numbers he struck out by taking the mind of Lord Gerath and possessing him. Lord Gerath was no longer a human; he was a conduit to the heavens formed by the signet ring of the Griffon. I suspected the Lords of the realms never knew that these rings weren’t just trinkets. They were the gifts of the Avatars, or more like the deed to the Lords souls' and by wearing them it was singing themselves away to the whim of the Avatars. It was an omen; whether that was a good one or a bad one I did not know. I turned to my brothers, who formed this unit. We were the good number 7 in all, a complete hydra. We had a war to take by the reins and win for the Hydra, I breathed in and my battle wear caught me finally. Dropping to my knees I shaded my eyes from the blaring sun overhead.

I know what I must do, I must become Hydra and that might damn me. Yet it might also save my people but that is a risk I'm willing to take, I looked to the ring again and slipped it on. The hydra soldiers helped me up, I finally took the time to look at them. Two order knights, Gaius and Martin, a retainer of the Hydra named Lokim, and three heavy spearmen, Harrick, Jorum, and Assumer. They were a mixed group yet all were dark skinned with inky hair which was typical of a man of the southern realms.

Gaius spoke up first “Lord Henry, what would you have us do?” Instantly I recoiled from the question and mixed emotions bubbled within me, “Did you say Lord Henry?” Gaius and Martin drew their relic swords and stuck them to the ground slinking to a knee Martin spoke next. “A head has been severed and so a new one must take its place, and you have the signet ring on your finger Lord Henry. Though this is hardly the coronation ceremony of a Lord, you’re our Lord.” Martin and Gaius set the example and the rest of the Hydra knelt before me. Pride swelled in my chest and I told them to stand, speaking with hardly the clarity behind my voice that Lord Kastors had. Lokim said exactly what would be expected of a retainer, “Pray to Hydra for he will deliver us Lord Henry.” Lokim then made the symbol of the Hydra across his head. He turned back to me and his eyes became steely and his voice cold.

“Yet I’d also recommend we leave the southern realms for now, you have the Hydra signet ring and our Lord Kastors is dead, trust me that does not look good for you. Regardless of us seeing the incident you will be branded a heretic and a murderer by the other Hydra Lords.” I looked into his eyes and met the stony gaze with my own.

The Black mare was baying in the mist of the morning as the fires were slowly dying out. I didn’t waste my time thinking twice, I looked to the corpses around me “A murderer?” I said tossing down my board shield and stripping my Hydra uniform from my body. I took the black leather chest guard off a corpse and strapped it onto myself along with the matching clothing articles. I threw down my hydra blade, and dropped my helm to the soot caked ground “A heretic?” I picked up a war scythe, which had been used extensively during the raid, taking earnest steps I jumped up to the black mares back, pausing for a moment I looked down to Lokim.

“No, I am Hydra...” said the Avatar “And I am your god, bow as shall all the Lords before me.” My soul and being were bound in eternal servitude to Hydra, yet I had purchased some control of my body. Pulling taut the reins on the horse I pointed directly at Lokim “As a retainer of Hydra, it is your duty to be bound to me in life and death, do you deny my claims?” The utterly beguiling and seductive words of the Avatar were splayed into existence by my mouth, yet its will. Lokim stuttered and took steps back at the sight of Hydra in mortal form, such things were said of myth, never to happen again for there was no need to have Gods wake and walk amongst men. “ Lord Henry… I..”

“Hydra.” Came the sonorous reply.

“Forgive me, Lord Hydra, my ignorance is unforgivable.” Lokim was on his knees before me I fought to maintain control, which, against a god, an avatar, an immortal, was futile.

“THEN YOU SHALL DIE LITTLE FLEA!” Before anyone could move or I assert control, Hydra breathed death into life and the dirt on the ground birthed itself creatures’ so vile and disgusting that even the witches of Nash’Valla would squirm at the sight of.

Three, two headed cyclopean Gonmorashes’, the soldiers of Hydra, writhed and wriggled free of the ground. They stood as tall as I when seated atop the horse. Each bearing four arms or more so, four tree trunks that ended in asymmetric stumps. From which each arm bore a four foot butcher blade which for lack of better description was grafted into the arm. The Gonmorashe leader took its first rasping breaths of life and looking down to Lokim, it hungered for flesh. It hungered for war. It lifted its colossal leg and dropped it right next to Lokim. Baring its blackened teeth it roared, its titanic bellow heard miles around. It stopped its roar on the cue of Hydra. “Small human... Scared...” puckering its upper lip in what Lokim guessed was a smile it turned back and moved behind Hydra.

“I will leave these southern realms with you six men and these three Gonmorashes. I know you must be frightened by my divinity and so your Lord Henry will be given this body for now. He shall be told nothing of the nature of the Gonmorashes, what they are, who made them or their divine duty to me. Nor shall he be told I possess his body.”

“Yes, Hydra, and where shall we go?” said Lokim

“To build me an army, and kill the bastard I once called a brother.” Lokim noticed the anger and hatred build as he sensed this was reference to Griffon.

“My God Hydra, Where do I begin this journey?”

“Where Dragon makes her lair.” Hydra’s flitting energy on the mortal plane was draining, and he retreated to the recesses of Lord Henry’s mind. I woke exhausted into my own body. I looked at eyes that had mixed displays of fear and awe.

“What?” I said, trying to make my own sense of the situation. Lokim looked at me, along with Martin and Gaius, Harrick, Jorum, and Assumer. Then I realized the they weren’t looking at me, I turned my head slowly, my heart beat raced as the unknown pricked itself inside my mind. Looking into the eyes of a being from the Hell-hold, I stopped breathing for Hydra knows how long. It was the most grotesque creation yet they all seemed intent on my protection.

“Father… Is frightened by it?” said one of the Gonmorashe. I quickly took note of which one, before it came to naming itself Nodukt, which in our native tongue means broken horn. It was a good fit, for it had only one horn on a single head where the other head had a broken one.

“Father… Is just knowing it… Father is learning it…” said another one, which named itself Oclem which means hard skull. Its name fit it, as it had a steel helm atop both heads.

“Silence Nodukt, Silence Oclem… It speaks when spoken to.” Said the lead Gonmorashe and it named itself Rumnel which meant Of the Star. It made sense for it carried a large book strapped to its chest in steel chain when I noticed the hieroglyphs which read How far we have fallen, we of the gods, and we of the heavens. I did not know what it meant, but I knew these ogres for lack of better description wished me no ill.

“Rumnel, Nodukt, Oclem. What are you?” I asked the horror of the moment made it ironic how easily I was talking to these beasts.

“We are your children Father…” they answered in eerie unison. I took a slow breath great not only am I surrounded by these mutant creatures, nothing is making sense, I’m being forced from my homeland under pain of death. I looked at my companions.

“Brothers mount a horse and we ride out.” I said, the Gonmorashes grunted approval at my decision. My unit now devoid of any Order markings was nothing more than a roving band of pirates. Due to the fact we had no markings, we were now to any guards that were assigned to the numerous roads and way stations of the realms. So we’d cling to the less taken path, we’d lurk in the shadow, and we’d hide in villages and amongst the low born of society. We were rebels. Nobodies. Turncoats. We could now only call the criminals our brothers in arms.

Fine work, I approve! And those Ogres things sure seem nasty indeed

They were a last minute addition, I like them.

May I ask what kinda mythical creatures they are based on?

Originally based on Janus, the mindset as the gatekeeper/guardian of heaven. But then I wanted a more warlike diety to be made, so I thought ogre with blades for arms. It seems to be a good working so far, as I feel, that more things will come into being as the story progresses.

Oh I see, well they do come across as rather warlike! And you seem to really have upped the stakes regarding the work you put into these mythical creatures and such.

Well thankyou friend! I try to improve things every chance I get.

No problem and dont we all strive to do just that.

That we do! That we do!

Trying not too make it too busy of a story, but it involves an entire world. but here you go!

II In the web of a War Weaver II

Within the center of the run down village stood a small band of demi-gods, they had purged the village, raping the women and taking them as slaves, dissecting the men and putting their flayed torsos on display atop their thorax’. The children received the worst of it; they were maimed, hacked, and liquefied, then used to warp this village into a birthing pit of the more Mamlur. The Mamlur held the child her hair; the small girl was squeamish and flimsy. Her left cheek was still raw from the coronation ceremony that inducted her into the numbers of The Order of the Dragon. The Mamlur shook the child and drew its gore saw, and began hacking through the child, screaming shouts of praise to Spider. The demi-god stopped hearing something far off, and faint like a whisper riding the skein of the web.

‘Ash medaar hassat Heidra yuri’

‘Yes, O Goddess Spider, we too feel the birth throes of hydra through the web’

‘Naddam yusef hassar tulet ome’

‘If it is your will Mother, we shall raise Leviathan and he will kill your sister Dragon. But the intricacies of his binding have not been replicated since the beginning times, how would we stop such unbridled power?’

‘Set hassar…’

The demi-god made to pull from the web as quick as it could but was caught in the trap of Spider. Its blood cells all lysed loosing a mortal dose of virulent toxins into the blood stream, causing the heart to hemorrhage. It hit the ground, spasming and dropping the tortured child who hadn’t died from the terrifying surgery it had undergone. A second Mamlur walked to the little girl and stuck a pole spear through its neck, swiftly bringing a painless death to the girl. It sounded its horn in the plaza, calling the demi-gods to it.

They’d make way to Nash’Valla and loose the God who destroys. The new weaver called to its sisters and they made their way out of the rocky outcrop that hosted this village. Climbing vertically down the mountain side held only by their web that supported their vast bulks the gore-trophies slung ahead of them.

Haddark, the new weaver of the Mamlur had time to think to itself. Would it really free Leviathan, when last it remembered Leviathan had breathed pain into Haddark’s spawn brother? Not pain like a human felt, the kind of pain that went on forever so extreme it shredded every fiber of its being, only to be remade and endure the same hell for all of eternity. Leviathan made it certain to say that if eternity ended, that He would break all of Nash ’Valla’s chains and rise from the darkest depths of the void, to devour the immortal soul of Haddark and the spawn brother.

The mountain was a treacherous place to be and Haddark’s web was taut, holding it close to the mountainside, as it descended it smelled something akin to rotting flesh. Furrowing its brow, it thought back to the last time it had smelled this scent.

“What makes this scent? “

The question hung in the web for some time before the other Mamlur picked up its question.

“It could be nothing but the volcano, Haddark you worry too much.”

Haddark thought on it a second more, could it be? No.. Dragon’s embodiments were all too far east at the temples, they wouldn’t be out this far. Brushing off the thought Haddark let more web out and descended a pace quicker, just in case. As its pace picked up, sweat started beading and Haddark noticed its party was also looking worried. Haddark found itself speeding down the mountainside too quickly to maintain its careful control. Its legs started to miss footings and Haddark slipped while letting out a loud yell, its web snagging onto a perch some six hundred meters above. As it slammed back to the mountainside its head spun crazily, from the loss of balance.

The nauseating gas was overbearing at this point. Haddark tried reaching its arms back to its web to pull itself to safety, but when its arms reached where its web should have been it hit a toned scaly hide. Haddark’s heart dropped quickly shooting a prayer to Spider for protection. O Goddess please let this be a mere dream of the web.

Slowly Haddark moved to grab its pole spear, holding shallow breaths and moving ever so slightly it turned its head to see Hlaiirlak, an ancient from the times of the gods. He was gifted with the mantle of the changeling. As a master of poisons, he had a poison barb on his tail and was capable of letting go torrents hallucinogenic gas. He was said to have lived and died in an abandoned temple atop these mountains. His hoard was said legendary in size and consisted mostly of magical artifacts.

But if this was the ancient who once worshipped the gods He was truly blessed, or sorely damned. Haddark looked to speak and words seemed to find themselves trapped in a road to nowhere. Hlaiirlak peered down at the small creature, rage bristling at the insignia of Avatar Spider emblazoned on the thorax of the demi-god. In painful shouts and curses Hlaiirlak warped his body into that of a human, his great mass folding itself in and subsuming itself. The result was a gnarled face that looked to yearn for nothing other than a clean death.

‘Bastard child of the Avatars… you betrayed the gods.” His voice spoke with millennia of wizened ability. The tall ancient leaned heavily onto a ash staff, his long robes flowing over his tiny frame.

‘Have you come to kill old Hlaiirlak, Ancient of the Gods!?’ His body grew from a weakened old man to that of a large and angered ogre in a matter of seconds. Haddark was deathly afraid of this monster covering his face he screamed out.

‘Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me! I… was made I never kne…’

‘DAMNABLE LYING FIEND!’ shouted Hlaiirlak his body warping into that of a Great Spider Centaur.

‘Think on your betrayals, spawn of hell…. And tell Leviathan that I will tear his bloody carcass limb from god forsaken limb if he even thinks of leaving Nash’Valla. All of your Avatars will bleed, and the Gods will reign high!’ Reaching down and grabbing Haddark who was more or less a smaller copy of himself, Hlaiirlak threw Haddark from the Mountain top, taking holy joy in seeing another of the Avatar children dead.

Returning to his form of a dragon, he took to the skies and blasted great torrents of poisonous gas into the skies, roaring his hatred of the Avatars. He continued his flight for some time picking of stragglers of the demi-god party as they attempted to flee. Damned fools.. he thought to himself. As night drew in he landed in his temple atop the Mountain of the Gods, he slowly returned to his roost, where he saw his treasures he held dearest. The essence of the Gods.

Well never anger a dragon it seems, and most certainly one who breaths clouds of gas. Well done

Thanks, this one was shorter but you know why dear friend (; I'll try and make the next installment longer and better. Cheers!