The Birthright
Chapter One
By: W.Bob Yankovic



1025 A.D. Castle Caldera
	Down, down, down, the spiraling staircase the young man was
brought. Before him lay his new home, the dungeon of Castle Caldera. As
the two men drag him over to the wall he screams out into the darkness,
"It's mine!" The metal chains are clamped over his wrists and ankles.
The two men walk out of the cell and slam the wooden door. Through the
small, barred hole in the door the young man's face can be seen. When
he hears the clink of the lock he screams out again, "It's mine!" The
gaurds begin their assention back up the staircase. The last thing the
young man hears is the creaking of the metal hinges as the door to the
dungeon slowly shuts, sealing him into his place for the rest of his
life.

1045 A.D. Castle Wave Crest (Capital of Artinea)
	The bright sun shone down on the backs of the farmers as they
gathered their crops during harvest. The Festival of the Winter
Solstice was drawing nigh. From his vantage of the highest tower in the
castle, King Leoric watched the bustling of his people. He was a good
king and well loved by his country. He was a man of around fifty but
his body still had all of its strength. His deep blue eyes sparkled as
the sun reflected off of them. His facial features were very distinct
giving him a kind of powerful air about him. The graying hair that
covererd his head and chin softened the look. Overall his appearance
could be defined as a grandfather. But he was so much more. In his
reign the country of Artinea had seen nineteen full years of peace.
	This year would be the twentith, and the Festival of the Winter
Solstice was to be used as an aniversary celebration for this peace. He
turned his gaze to the busy city within the walls of the castle. Here
men and women were decorating their houses and prepairing for the
Festival. Leoric let out a chuckle and walked over to his table. He
picked up his quill and began to write a letter. When he finished he
poured some wax on it to make a seal and pressed his ring into it
leaving the crest of his family on the wax. A field of black and red
with a dragon in the upper right and a double edged axe in the lower
left. He stood and walked over to the door and opened it. One of the
gaurds that stood by the door turned and after knealing, took the letter 
from the king.
	"She will enjoy that," he said to himself with another chuckle.
The gaurd knew immediatly who the king was sending the letter to. It
was a daily occurance. Every day at noon the king would send a letter
to an woman in the town. The gaurd stood and walked off. When he
reached the castle gate, the keeper raised the portcullis and lowered
the drawbridge. Walking quickly the gaurd found his way to the small
yet cozy hut of the seamstress. She opened the door after a soft
rapping by the gaurd. He knealed and presented the letter to her. She
smiled and gently shut the door after she had taken the letter. She was
a woman of about the same age of the king if not a few years older.
Traces of her past beautly still crept through her now wrinkling skin
and graying hair. She seated herself and opened the letter.
		"Dearest Hellen,
	The Festival is in just three days. I am hoping that you will
	attend the banquet in the castle with me. I still remember all
	that you have done for me. You will always be dear to my heart.
	Wear a dress of scarlet, how that color brings out your true
	beauty.
		With all my heart
			Leoric"
	The woman let out a small laugh as she rose to walk over to her
chest. As she opened it she took out a rheme of blood red cloth. She
set down with her thread and scissors and began to make herself a
dress.

1045 A.D. Castle Caldera
	"Hurry up you," the tall wizard said. The man was well aged in
years, well beyond eighty. He was Dwerin, and his name was known by all
to be the greatest of all wizards in all of Artinea. His long beard
almost dragged the ground as he stepped into the boat. The men loading
his belongings stepped up thier efforts with his scolding. The boat was
needed to cross the great lake that surrounded Castle Caldera on all
sides. It was on an island in the middle of an ancient volcano that had
long been extinct. This castle, and the province that shared its name,
had quickly become one of the most feared places in the whole country.
This place was the location of the jail that held every criminal that
was deemed to dangerous to keep anywhere else. Dwerin sat down in his
boat and tapped his fingers on the side. "The Festival is in three days
and it is a two day journey to Wave Crest. I suggest that we leave
now," he said impatiently. The men loaded the last bag and took thier
places at the oars.
	As they pushed off a blood chilling scream escaped the clutches
of the dungeon and shot into the bright sunlight. This was the scream
that everyone from Castle Caldera had grown accustomed to. This was the
scream of the "Faceless Man." No one knew exactly what he did to be
placed in the dungeon, and no one could understand why he screamed the
same thing every day. "It's mine!" the man would scream. He was surely
a man of great magical power because he was kept under the very
strictest of detention. No one was ever to look him in the eye, he was
never to be alotted any sunlight, no torch was to be kept within thirty
feet of his cell, and by no means were his chains ever to be taken off.
When Dwerin heard the scream of the man he placed his head in his hands
and rubbed his temples. "His strength grows," he muttered to himself.
The sound of oars slapping the water drowned out his voice as the boat
slid through the water toward the edge of the lake.

1045 A.D. Castle Dark Mist (Capitol of Levitan)
	In the throne room of Castle Dark Mist sat the ruler of the
country of Levitan, King Threais. He had a dagger in his hand and was
twirling it around while his head rested on his other hand. "What am I
to do?" he asked himself in a state of depression. The cause of his
present mental state was the kingdom of Artinea. He hated it with a
furious passion. How he wished to one day overthrow Leoric and take
what he thought was his rightful place at the throne. During the Great
War he had his chance. When Levitan declaired war on Artinea, Threais
thought for sure that he would defeat Artinea and rule both countries.
But when Dwerin betrayed him to fight alongside Leoric, he lost due to
the lack of moral and power.
	"I must find a way to crush him!" he yelled as he flung the
dagger at a gaurd by the door. The dagger pinned the shirt collar of
the gaurd to the wall, just millimeters from his neck. "Shite I
missed," he cursed. He stood up and looked out a window toward the
eastern horizon. Everything beyond the river was Artinea. He could pick
out the gaurd stations along the bridges that prevented his forces from
taking the country. "You gaurd," he said to the man whose shirt was
still on his neck, "go find the Eyeless One and bring him up here." The
gaurd held a hand to his chest and went off to find the wizard.
	Now this wizard was not an every day person. When he was being
tourtured as a prisoner of war his eyes were gouged out. This did not
stop him from becoming a stronger wizard. In fact it forced him deeper
into his practice of the dark ways. He began to use the technique of
spirit channeling and quickly increased in power. He was introduced to
King Threais a few years after the Great War and signed on to help him.
His main motivation was to pit his strenght against that of the great
Dwerin.
	The gaurd came back leading a very powerful looking man. He
looked to be around the age of fourty but due to the effect of his evil
magic on his body. His skin was a dark almost black shade of grey, his
hair was all long gone and the scars where his eyes used to be were
covered by patches. He was a very tall man with a thick frame. He sat
himself in a chair and turned toward where he could hear Threais. "You
called for me?" he asked. Threais walked over and grabbed up a sword
and swung it at the Eyeless One. He simply put up his hand and grabbed
the blade before it hit him. Blood gushed from out his hand. He reached
into his shirt pocket and rubbed the blood off with a piece of cloth.
To Threais' surprise the deep gash left along with the blood. Then the
same sword sprang out of Threais' hands and hovered under his throat.
	"Enough, release me." Threais said. The sword fell to the
ground with a clang. "You can hear and sense better than most men can
see, you have power beyond that of all of my armies, you can see most
of the future, and by the gods you are damned invincible. Yet every
time I ask you for a way to defeat Leoric you give me an excuse. Why is
that?" Threais asked curtly. The Eyeless One smiled back at Threais. "I
can do all of those things, yes all those and many more. But one thing
I cannot do is fight a war for you by myself," he replied smoothly.
"Well then why not give me a plan. Some means of attack, shite
something to follow. I am beginning to wonder just how important your
life is to me," Threais bellowed. "Oh my great king, my life means much
more than you could ever imagine. And it just so happens that I do know
a way to destroy all of Artinea along with your friend King Leoric. It
involves a certain person of great power, possibly even stronger than
me," The Eyeless One said with a small smirk.
	"Tell me of this person," Threais said.

1045 A.D. On the road to Eladamir
	"Come on Byron, let us go find some adventure," a wiry man
said. Shamshir was his name. He had been promised imortality by a
wizard, but the wizard instead of immortality, granted him the features
and abilities of a wolf. He stood about three foot tall, this when he
was hunched over walking. If he were to stand straight he would be well
over six foot. He had a coat of very fine brown hair that covered his
body and his eyes were white though and through. He wore the garb of an
Aritnean warrior with its black tunic covered by red painted metal
breastplates and belt.
	"Shamshir we are employed by King Leoric. You know that he
would have to release us from his duty for us to leave. Besides there
will be much adventure in the future," Byron said. He was a very
powerfully built man. He was known for his valor and cunning. Byron had
been a warrior his whole life. The rumors that spread around Artinea
was that he killed King Frateau of Levitan when he was only eighteen.
King Leoric saw his skills and placed him in charge of all of Artinea's
armies three years after the Great War. The temper the man carried was
great. He tolerated nothing that went against a very strict code that
he established. Shamshir seemed to be the only person that could avoid
these standards.
	The two were quite a pair in battle. Neither of the warriors
would back down from any fight no matter how great the odds were. The
King had sent these two men to escort King Vhad of the Faries and his
great mage Epiphon to the Festival. The Faries lived in a deep forest
in the center of Artinea. This forest they named for the god of magic,
Eladamir. It was a fitting name for the forest. If anyone tried to walk
through it without a farie guide he or she would end up at the entrance
to the forest no matter how many times they tried. The Faries were also
very adpet in magic, much more than most humans.
	"Why do we have to go on farie sitting duty?" Shamshir
complained. Byron simply laughed and prodded his horse to go faster.
Although the ride was a good days journey, Shamshir, as always, refused
to ride a horse. He saw it as a waste of ones own energy. He could out
run the horse anyway if the situation called. As the duo approached the
huge opening of Eladamir a farie flew out to meet them.
	"Hello, I will be your guide today," he said simply. Then he
turned and started the trek through the forest. After half an hours
walk and more turns than a man could count Byron and Shamshir layed
eyes upon Castle Eladamir. It seemed to spring directly up from the
forest. Byron had trouble noticing where the trees stopped and the
castle started. It was a huge sprawling castle with towers in the
center that formed a sort of diagnally cut cylinder. It was covered in
ancient vines and moss.
	"Aye, this is a sight for man to see," Shamshir said as he
walked up to the portcullis of the castle. Byron swung his leg over the
side of his horse and quickly dismounted. Grabbing the reigns he walked
his horse over the drawbridge and into the arch that housed the first
legion of archers that were now aiming razor sharp poisoned arrows at
their chests.
	"They are friendly. They are ambassodors of King Leoric. They
are to escort King Vhad and Epiphon to the festial," the farie guide
called up to the archers. They lowered their bows and nodded to the
gatesman who opened the portcullis. As Byron and Shamshir walked
through the were met with the sounds and sights of a village not much
different than their own. The farie that had led them through the
forest beckoned them to follow.
	"This is a sight indeed," Byron whispered as he walked into the
square of the Castle. He marveled at the artwork on the walls and the
skills of the architects who laid out the plans for this spectacular
feat of man. Shamshir walked up beside him as they followed the guide.
	"Hey Byron, I think we could take them," he said with a
mischevious glare on his face. Byron simply looked at his comrade and
shook his head.

1045 A.D. Swamp of Ill Fortune
	"Where are you," Prince Thirayus whispered bow and arrow in
hand. He was hunting, this was his favorite pass time. At first look
one would not think that the skinny man was any kin to Leoric at all.
But if one was to look into his eyes he would know for certain.  He was
a man of average height with very long arms and legs. He was not known
for his looks. He was a good hearted man, yet on the gullible side. He
never could pass over a lie. The very fact that he was in the swamp now
was a product of a lie. A noble that was in the Castle for the Festival
had told him that he had seen a golden deer running through the swamp
just a day before. Thirayus had set out to kill this deer.
	He crept along in the bushes for a few minutes. Then from out
of what seemed like nothing appeared a beautiful woman. She was short,
around five foot. She wore a dress of forest green that contrasted her
fire red hair. The woman had beauty beyond anything that Thirayus had
ever seen in his life. He stooped lower to conceal his presence so that
he could gaze upon her beauty in secret. The lady walked down the draw
of a hollow and into a thicket. Thirayus, still crouched, began to make
his way over to where he could see the woman. To his surprise she had
dissappeared. In a state of disillusion he stood and looked all the way
around him. She was no where in sight.
	"Are you looking for me," a voice said behind him. Thirayus
turned and the woman was right in front of him. He tried to speak but
he was to confused to form words. Instead he just pointed and gave her
a puzzled look. "I am a woman of many resources," she said with a small
laugh.
	"Who...are you?" Thirayus managed to studder out. The woman
just laughed again. By now the prince was totally befuddled. He closed
his eyes and rubbed them to try to clear away some of his confusion.
When he opened them the woman was once again no where to be found. Only
a set of footprints where she had stood even spoke to say that she was
real. Thirayus was now more scared than confused so he began to run out
of the swamps. Over the moss covered rocks and muddy ponds he flew to
the path that he had followed. He stopped and looked around, then he
noticed that none of his surroundings looked familiar. He was lost, and
on top of that, he was scared to death.
	"You might not know me, but I know who you are. And you are not
who you claim to be," the womans voice said. As Thirayus turned to find
the woman he saw no one. The voice had come from nowhere. Once again he
began to run. He didn't know where he would come out, but at this point
he didn't care.