Fire Emblem 1. A beginning, of sorts

**Chapter One:**

On the plains of Sacae there lived a girl. Wait, that didn't happen. Let me start again.

Many ages ago, when this ancient planet was not quite so ancient and all manner of warriors, swordsman, amazons, Pegasus Riders and Soldiers walked across the surface of the world with varying intents of good and evil, when evil had cards and stars above shone brightly for all who knew where to look {up might be a good place}, there was a verdant grassland known to the nearby House of Ostia, as Sacae.

There, on the plains of Sacae, there lived a girl. Not a leather clad, ineffectual woman, who needed to be endlessly rescued and who cannot do a thing for herself. Nor a tough as nails vicious, horrible person who beats up people for no reason and demands they love her for nothing. She was a girl of eighteen, who had grown up in bandit infested territory, which meant that she knew how to survive, and duck, and-

'Social Activity!'

She had flowing long blue hair, that she tied up in a ponytail as was, and had been, her peoples style. She was also extremely athletic and so crossed near a miles worth of grass in what seemed an instant. Her destination was the cloak clad personage walked through the fields. The roundhouse kick as she approached the figure had been almost subconscious, and she had no idea why she initiated it other than the fact that she was really quite lonely and lived on her own. She halted as he landed with a crash.

Was this social activity? Probably not.

Then Lyn, for that was what she was called, beheld a body rolling in the dust that still drew breath and filled with hope and despair long withheld she dragged it back to her tent by the hair because his cloak was too pretty to tear, and nursed him back to health. She set out a stone tabled in the beating sun, and let it begin to get hot as she prepared water to boil.

Nights were freezing her upon the plains of Sacae, and it paid to have a heat source.

She noted that he had been carrying a spear with him, but could not for the life of her figure out where he had gotten it. It looked Ostian, but not quite Ostian. 'I wonder if it is some long lost weapon of legend.' She said to herself as she raised it. 'No!'

She stabbed it into the ground. 'Never kill a house guest.'

It would not actually be all that difficult, since his cloak seemed an extremely good defense. No, no, Lyn was not a bandit and murdering someone did not seem like a constructive form of social activity.

...

However as far as the Wandering Tactician knew he had been knocked unconscious rather abruptly without warning and found himself blurred between the lines of conciousness

and dream...

...

Lyn had decided she ought to go and get some air to calm down as the night began to wax upon the world and the moon rose. She stood up from where she was watching him sleep and walked out to gaze upon the stars. And then, because there had not been a caravan by here in quite some time, and she had realized she was incredibly lonely, she began to sing.

It was an ancient song, sung long ago on the eve of a battle where many Elves, Dwarves and Men were slain by arrow and sword, and she knew only the smallest fragments of it.

_'The stars are far brighter, then gems without measure. The moon is far whiter than silvery treasure.'_

Those words she spoke were all she could remember of the song, and now she turned and saw the Bandit, two in number, walking down from the hills. She remembered them well, for they had been down that way before and twice they had passed over her house and pillaged an outlying farmstead.

She was older now, older and stronger and as the echo of her song, strong and clear rolled through the hills strong and clear and made them halt and looked round for the source, she drew her sword and began to practice her stances, one foot before the other, grip careful.

Finally Lyn sheathed her blade and walked back into the tent and there noticed a parchment gripped in the travelers hand. Curious, she quickly wrested it from his fingers, and looked over it quickly and then he shifted in his sleep.

'Are you awake yet?' She asked as he stirred himself awake. 'I found you unconscious on the plains of Sacae. Would you share your story with me?' And then she kept on talking, and talking, and talking, until even she did not know exactly what she was saying because she hadn't spoken to anyone in months and finally she turned round and rushed out the door.

'Mark,' she said oddly, tasting the word. 'that is an odd name. But pay me no mind, it is a good name.' Who was she talking to?

Hmm, so she had now successfully broken out of the rut which her meaningless existence had become, albeit in a rather out of sorts way. So what now? She looked at the Bandits, who now stood apart, glaring at each other. Then suddenly they had begun to fight with each other. They would not be missed. She ran back into the tent. 'Mark, Bandits! Can you fight?' She looked down at the parchment, wondering if it said anything else.

'Enough!' said Mark 'I will no longer be thrown around and ignored like some common chess piece to be supplanted with ease after due consideration. I organize Knights and send them to die, I have built six farms and a barracks by myself and nearly lost my life thanks to ungrateful Lords. I have been sent to die a dozen times and been victorious every time.

I, milady, am a tactician, and I outgambit more people without even trying than even are aware I exist.'

'So you are a tactician.' She said thoughtfully. 'Okay that sounds good. Follow me and help when you can.'

Then she dragged him out into the fields. 'I'm going to kill the bandits. I want you to watch. That tree might be a good place.' Her anger at having been alone for fourteen months was poured into that voice and she halted.

'I go with you, milady.' said Mark, hefting his spear.

Then there was a chill breeze that rushed through her hair as she drew her sword and closed her eyes. She flourished twice, in near salute to some unknown watcher of spiritual nature. Then she rushed through the grass like a wind amid the dust. Her sword gleamed in the night as the foremost bandit rushed her. She passed him by, or so it seemed, but added an extra step to her movement that left him bleeding horribly and falling dead as she halted.

By that time Mark was already rushing after her, and so had a perfect view of Lyn as she halted before the Bandit, who brandished. 'Who do you think you are?! You think you can stand up to Batta the-'

Mark threw the spear and caught him through the chest from the side. He fell back, and rose once more to strike at Lyn, who stepped aside and beheaded him before dragging out the spear and hurling it to Mark who caught it. Silence, and Lyn knelt down to wipe her blade down on the grass as was her peoples custom.

Then a completely different sort of Bandit rushed out of nowhere, screaming and hollering and wearing a tan trench coat. His clumsy punching attempt passed Lyn by and there were two ringing strikes as he halted and fell to his knees, his face falling off in the process.

'Oh thats not right...' said Mark a he stepped back.

Yet his axe passed by Lyndis, who struck twice and stepped past him. She half turned, and the Bandit fell to his knees, before his face fell off. Lyn winced slightly. 'Maybe I overdid it.'

Then she looked up and saw Mark, fighting with a swordsman, his spear gripped in hand. Their weapons met, and Mark shoved his enemy away with superior footwork. The swordsman stepped back, then kicked off the ground, roaring aloud as he raised his shortsword upwards in a manner designed to show off his cheese grinding abs-

Mark fell to one knee and let him impale himself on his spear, before tossing him over his shoulder and removing it. 'Works every time. I learned from the best.'

'I killed two.' She said.

'Granted.'

There was a long pause as Lyndis reflected this would some day make an excellent wedding proposal. Except not really.

'This looks like the beginnings of a beautiful friendship.' She decided, and just like that they began to walk, without further reflection. It was as they passed under the shadow of two great black rocks that she decided she ought to at least informally bridge the gap. Oh sure her tent meant nothing to her, but it was the principle of the thing. 'Mark, you obviously have some experience in the ways of war. Will you let me travel with you?'

'Do you always begin conversations this way?'

'…I'm sorry,' she said 'its just that I've been on my own for so long.' She felt tears coming to her, and blinked them back. 'I-I'm sorry, I must get stronger.' For its own sake. That was what had kept her alive.

'A meaningless effort.' said Mark 'The strongest man in the world may accomplish nothing if they do not use that strength. You want to learn. That is… encouraging I suppose.'

'You aren't much older than me.' She said 'You are my age.'

'Yes.' He admitted. 'I am.'

There was further silence as Mark and she climbed a large hill, and she began to get ahead of him.

'Yes, certainly. Just as long as-' He halted 'Don't you have a family?'

'You… want me to get permission from my parents?' He'd obviously realized he had hit a nerve. 'My Father and mother died six months ago. My people, the Lorca, they don't… I'm the last of my tribe.'

'You are from a Nomad clan?' asked Mark in surprise. 'But your skin is as fair as mine.' Lyn looked up, annoyed suddenly and wondering if he was a racist. 'Uh… not to be impolite or anything, but you look more as one who was born in the south.' Silence, Lyn looked out and tried to appear mysterious. This was true. 'You know what, forget it.'

'Done and done.' She decided, and then they walked onward. 'I'm sorry, I've been so lonely of late.'

Thus they passed beneath the towering slopes and into the wild, uncharted lands that no man has made a map of, nor ever will. Before them stood a great valley, green and brown in some places, and dark in others. The sky was blue, and the sun rose on the horizon with fiery countenance, and all the trees seemed alight with its brilliance.

And though they had no idea why, their spirits lifted and smiles came to their faces as they walked down the slope. Then suddenly Lyndis spoke:

'The Apprentice Tactician Mark, and the young Swordfighter Lyn. A strange pair on an even stranger journey!' She called aloud, feeling absurd, and not knowing how to continue.

Mark picked up the slack. 'To prepare for the long road ahead, they go to Bulcae, the commercial center of Sacae.' He gave her a sideways glance. 'Unbeknownst to Lyn, she will discover something that will alter her life forever.'

She gave him and odd look, and on they walked letting the unspoken question pass them by until a later time as they came then to the edge of a great and terrible forest. Just looking at it made ones heart lower itself, and they began to become terribly downtrodden.

'You know,' said Mark suddenly. 'I think there is a way around this forest. We'd have to trek through Orc infested territory but-'

'Lets take it.' Agreed Lyn.

Evidently someone, or something was not at all happy about this decision. It started to rain and pour with chilly water, and though the eaves of the forest continued to provide some measure of protection, it only got darker, and eyes gazed out at them at times, fleeting away before they could react.

The storm clouds seemed to grow darker as well, and soon Lyn was shivering and Mark had to give her his cloak. It continued to pour.

Finally they reached a great cliff that loomed above them as if about to crush them.

'I refuse to let these stupid rain gods beat us.' said Mark flatly.

Then, as if directed by some Sorcerer, a giant rock rolled down the mountain toward them, and they parted just in time for it to smash into the tree, bounce off and nearly brain Mark as he ducked beneath it. Then stepped aside again as it came to a rest by the tree.

Lyn chopped it in half with her sword. 'Evidently the Rain Gods have an Alliance with the Mountain Gods.' She said as it fell in two. 'We need to build a fire.'

'Already on it.' said Mark, who began to gather sticks, and pile them on top of the rock. Setting fire to them was a difficult task indeed, but Mark possessed a certain power with the everyday sort of magic that anyone can wield if they just know where to find it and how to use it.

Lyn had no idea how he did it, but he managed to build a fire, and there they rested until a new day dawned-

And it started pouring. Again.

'This is intolerable!' Shouted Lyn as they reached the Mountains. 'If we do not get struck by lightning we shall be tossed around by giant stone thingys and find the floor beneath us opening to swallow us up.'

'Lyn,' said Mark 'what the hell are you babbling about? Are you cold?'

She realized she was, and wondered if she was hallucinating. 'Rub your chest. Your arms will take care of themselves.'

She tried it, and realized it worked like a charm. Mark remained silent for a long few moments, and they wondered if one should say something.

'My boots are too tight.' said Mark suddenly.

'Excuse me?' said Lyn.

'It was something my Father once said, when I was very young. He was lying in his room, and he was crying. I asked him what was so wrong that he should cry.

He only said: 'My shoes are too tight. But it does not matter. Because I have forgotten how to dance.'

'I don't understand.'

Mark suddenly looked terribly old in a young mans body. His face was bitter and solemn as he stared into the darkening wood. 'Nor should I. But I do, Lyndis. I do.'

The night passed miserably, as the weather cleared and finally the dawn rose above them, lightening their depression as they stood and dosed the fire with water from the river.

Suddenly something occurred to Lyn. 'How do you know that name? I don't believe I told you mine.'

'Lucky guess I suppose.' He said. 'May I call you Lyn.'

'Yes of course.'

They began then their journey into the darkness of the wood, and as the shadows loomed above them and threatened to consume them Lyn said: 'If its any conciliation Mark, I never got a chance to learn to dance either.'

It was.

And for the first time, Mark smiled.


	2. Escape from the Dark Forest

**Chapter Two:**

The journey through the forest was not quite so bad as they had thought it would be. At first. Of course the moment they thought that was the moment they got a terrible ominous feeling beset them and they shuddered as the walked onward. They began to remember the earlier days travel to pass the time. It was not at all a pleasant experience, for the forest was little better than the fields.

'No hats, no cloaks, not even a pocket hankerchief.' Reflected Mark. 'How did we survive?'

'We are just cold like that.' said Lyn the next morning as they arose dark, and early and continued their very own personal greatest adventure. There were many eyes of gleaming red in the woods, that seemed to glare endlessly at them.

Then it started pouring. Beneath a forests eaves. The water dripped down and got into everything. Leaving shook, and dropped rainwater on them. They were miserable. Wet. And cold. Several efforts on their part were made to stop them from getting soaked in the morning dew as they trotted onward endlessly, one booted foot over another. But it did not good.

'God hates us.' decided Lyn suddenly from beneath Marks spare cloak. 'Its the only possible explanation for what is occurring here on this day?' Silence. 'Any advice, Mr Tactician?'

Mark looked up, surprised at being spoken to. 'Well when things become the most difficult I usually look to the stars.' He admitted. 'But they are difficult to see in this wood, and I think there is a cloud overhead. So try thinking of pleasant things.' He remained thoughtfully silent. 'Eggs and bacon.' He tried, mouth watering.

'My garden tended at dawn, merchants passing by the tent.' She answered. 'Oral storytelling is always classic.'

'Shelter given for the night. Free of charge.'

'Cake.' Lyn said, even more miserable than before as they set down for a long night. 'We should set a watch.'

'Agreed.'

But they did not set a watch that night. Both of them knew it was an idiotic idea, but they were tired and hungry and their rations were not much good for slaking either. They simply kept on putting it off endlessly until finally they fell asleep in their bedrolls without even discussing the matter. So it was that they did not set a watch.

In the night, Lyn slept fitfully, for she was plagued by visions of dark clad figures with gleaming swords covered in runes. Moreover she felt many terrible cold hands grasping for her, and even after she had cut several of them off she was dragged down into a terrible tomb where beasts tore at them.

Mark, on the other hand, dreamed of terrible groups of people in high places, laughing at him and demanding he be shut away or removed from sight. There were mocking smiles, and false apologies and betrayal. There was a lot of betrayal, with no cause anyone could be bothered to explain.

Evidently the forest planned to do far worse than kill them, for they awoke the next morning to find that nothing bad had happened. 'This does not bode well.' said Mark.

Then suddenly he realized that a small part of his dream was true. For Lyn had awoken early and was scaling up to the very heights of what looked like the tallest tree in the forest. She was attacked by birds as she did so, and snapped a Vultures neck, before scaling beyond sight. He stood up, and rushed after her, to stand beneath the base. 'Be careful won't you! That height could kill a man!'

'Relax, its never happened before.' Her voice answered.

Mark sighed and leaned against the tree, humming absently to himself as he waited for her to return. She did not come down for a very long time, and the morning began to pass into the early noon. Apparently in the night they made made their way up to the top of a hill, and scaled up it. Mark finally stood up and watched her leap down from the lowest branch. 'What took you?'

She looked odd, breathless.

'Didn't you see?!' She asked 'The pines were swaying in a western wind, and the swaying of oaks was like music! There was an eagle soaring above the north hills and there were Purple Emperor Butterflies up there, didn't you see?! Purple Emperors, I didn't even know they still existed.' She was smiling, and he realized he had never seen her smile before now. ;It was wonderful...' She trailed off, and looked suddenly very sad.

'Of course I didn't see. I didn't climb it.' said Mark, now in a fouler mood than he had unknowingly ended up in before. 'I don't suppose you found anything useful while you were up there?'

'Well I climbed to the top of the trees.' explained Lyndis 'I think we are at the center of a tree bowl thing. So we ought to just hold out course for a bit, and we'll make it out alright.'

'Thats easier said than done.' said Mark 'Where did the trees look thinnest?'

'That way.' said Lyn, motioning east.

'Excellent. Lets go.'

They packed up their belongings, and had a bite standing as they journeyed downhill. The trees hung low all around them. There were many gnotted roots and several rabbit holes on the ground, which proved a hinderance. After several days of this, Mark knocked a rabbit on the head with a stick and made it into dinner. In front of the Rabbit hole. Mark got a pocket watch out of the deal.

That was perhaps the first satisfactory meal either of them had had in a long time, and they tore through it like hungry wolves. Then Lyn stood up and walked away into the shadows. She returned with a headless rabbit and bloodied sword and this they cooked and began to eat as well.

Though it was not nearly so tasty as Marks cooking.

'Where did you learn to cook anyway?' Asked Lyn, between a mouthful of rabbit leg.

'In the Kitchens of House Ostia.' explained Mark before he could stop himself. 'Suffice to say that I had an uninteresting childhood to say the least.' He tore at the meat and chewed it up. Delicious. Well cooked. 'I was never allowed to eat much meat, since I wasn't all that important.'

Even more silence, broken only by the sound of eating.

'Assuming we can keep going in roughly the right direction-' She took one more mouthful and tossed away the bones. 'we'll make it out okay.'

'Well thats the real trick, isn't it?' He finished his Rabbit and tossed its remains into the fire.

'Oh, just a simple matter of making our way through the Dreaded Mist Woods?!' said Lyn suddenly 'An impassible labyrinth of undead infested trees! And after that, it gets even better. Festering, stinking, swamps of sorrow as far as the eye can see!'

'Thats not our road.' replied Mark as he poked at the fire with a stick.

'I know, but I felt I ought to throw that out there.' She admitted. 'Lets go.'

Up they scaled, and further up, and each time they thought they had reached the peak of the hill, it flattened out and then climbed up again, and each time they were forced to climb again. Several times one of them nearly fell, and had to be caught by the other. The rain which had before reduced itself to a drizzle now returned in force, and they were really sick of being miserable and wet.

They tried to make conversation between water dripping off of their hair into their eyes. 'What were you doing in this region anyway?' Asked Lyn.

'Looking for a bargaining chip.' Admitted Mark, deciding to be honest.

'Why?'

'So I could return home.'

'Did you find it?'

'Of course not. People aren't bargaining chips.' He answered. 'Anyone who thinks of a person as a resource when they have met them, and spoke with them deserves a bad end. Except of course for a Military commander in the field. That is different.'

'It was me, wasn't it?' She asked suddenly, voicing her suspicion. She knew by his face that it was. 'But why? I'm just a girl from the plains?' The statement rang hollow, even to her.

He held the silence there for a few long moments, letting it continue just long enough to set her on edge. It as not a discussion he wanted to have now.

'I wish our packs were heavier.' Decided Mark, dodging the question.

'Shut up.'

The forest grew darker and darker, and they became more and more annoyed with it all. Dark. Tree. Dark. Red eyes. In the dark darkness of the darkening forest of dark there were only trees and ark. And Red eyes. 'I spy with my little eye, something beginning with-' He began.

'Tree.'

'How did you know?' He asked.

'Because I said river last time. And that is all there is out here. Just trees and a river.' She paused. 'Why are we following the river anyway?'

Because rivers began in a mountain, and flow downhill. All they had to do was walk this river upward little by little until we reached civilization. Mark explained with a look.

'And what brings you to that conclusion?' She asked.

Wait, people needed water to live. So logically if there were a lot of people in one place they would need a lot of water. Therefore a river was a very good place to build a Town. With complications.

'Ah.' Actually that was a pretty good deduction. On the plains she had always had to keep in mind where the water was, and direct her course by that.

Dear Gods they were bored out of their minds. Tree. Tree. Tree. Mark looked round in ever direction. Tree. Tree. Tree. Tree.

'Tree. Tree. Tree.'

'Shut up!'

The voice echoed throughout the forests leaves, bouncing from one bough, to the next, to the next, to the next until its range was gone from sight. A terrible silence suddenly ensued, as Mark glared at her, and Lyn winced as her own voice returned to haunt her.

_'Shut up! Shut up! Shut up...'_

They quickened their pace, unconsciously, swiftly moving round the base of a hill and over the lowest points as they tried to get away from her voice. It continued to echo repeatedly for quite some time. Then it halted quite suddenly, and Lyn released a breath she did not know she had been hiding. Someone, or something, would have heard that. Up they went, up to the very peak of the hill and there beheld, in the distance-

'Oh you have got...'

'To be...'

'Kidding me! There are more trees up ahead!'

Suddenly a psychotic impulse seized Lyn round the shoulders and in an impulse born of endless frustration she shoved Mark down the hill, who tumbled down it with a cry of dismay. Lyn stepped back. 'No! Mark, what have I done! I have no right to live!'

And then she threw herself down the hill as well, and after tumbling head over heels through the moss she landed hard next to him. They were both still alive. This was awkward.

They refused to let this stupid forest kill them.

So they stood, dusted themselves off, rubbed their sore limbs and walked onward. Walking through the grim darkness of misery and darkness grim dark, blah, blah blah. Until at long last they were found. But not by quite the sort of creature they might have hoped for.

By the time they were found hunger had set in as they ran out of provisions. The club was useless, for they had run out of rabbits to whack. The raindrops and morning dew was colder than before, and it all became even worse. Somehow. Their hair was soaked, their bearings off course, and their thoughts miserable. They were so damn sick of this forest.

They needed to get out of here. They needed to get free.

'I truly wish our packs were heavier.' Reflected Mark morosely as they halted before the Forest Mouth. 'Lets try to get through here as quickly as we can, shall we?'

The forest was dark, and unpleasant and altogether spiteful, they decided. 'The trees seem to shift about endlessly.' Noted Mark 'Yet on course we remain. One would think they want us gone.'

'Who the trees?'

'Its possible.' He admitted. 'There are older, and there are worse things than Bandits and Trolls in these parts.'

'Whatever Mark,' she said 'I swear I saw something moving out there.'

Mark looked where she motioned, and saw a number of gleaming red eyes. 'Oh those are just vaguely defined wicked creatures. Just ignore them and perhaps they shall go away.'

'You know that won't work, don't-'

And then the Wolf leapt from between the trees with foaming mouth and lolling tongue right for both Lyn and Mark, who stepped aside as it missed both completely and ran onward through the darkness of the shadows and leapt up over into a marsh with a splash. They stared, blinking.

'Well I didn't see that coming.' said Mark after a moment. 'Shall we?'

'Right.'

And they walked on.

The night could only get worse, and lo and behold, it did get worse. For wicked things were in a watching mode, and sometimes they would catch sight of red eyes in the distance, gleaming. These were unlike the others, for they seethed in hatred that seemed a touch more personal. The lights from the stars which they had not been able to appreciate until now began to wink out as dark leaves covered them. One by one. Until they had only Marks lantern.

'Where do you keep all these things?'

'In my cloak, obviously.' said Mark. 'I've been on the road for quite some time. Almost my whole life.'

'I've been living on the plains.' This was true.

'Yes, we know that part. Anything else.'

Then Lyn tripped on a root as they walked, and as Mark tried to catch her, but she caught him arm and ended up pulling him off balanced to tumble down into a shallow river which was magically enchanted to put people to sleep. They shook off the enchantment and threw off their packs and waded waist deep through the shallows until they reached the far end.

There they stumbled out from the river and fell down onto the ground and fell into a deep slumber which they would not awake from for some time.

Mark dreamed that he saw their packs. How boring.

Then the packs were trampled by many decayed and bony feet, and he awoke with a start. There was an eerie silence that had overtaken the wood, and the whooting of an owl echoed thrice. Lyn pulled herself up, furious beyond measure and roaring like a maniac.

'I hate these trees!' yelled Lyndis in sudden fury. 'And any who should think otherwise may leave my Legion at once.'

'I'm not sure two people constitutes an army.' said Mark 'Let alone a Legion.' He stepped back at a friendly beheading attempt, a courtesy of stress and fury from adventures.

'Shut up!'

_'__Shut up!'_

_Shut up…'_

The echoed sounded throughout the trees, and all the red eyes went out.

'What do you see?' asked Lyn.

'Wolves.'

And just like that they sprang up and fled upward through the roots and trees until they reached the top of the hill. The Wolves emerged from shadows and behind bushes and trees with razor sharp teeth and eyes of fire. They stepped forward, claw over claw, and Lyn and Mark kept their weapons close.

They were Wargs. Greater Wolves. At all times they feasted and sought the blood of living creatures, and there were scars over their eyes, and faces. They were terrible.

They were hungry.

Mark and Lyn stepped back, and considered their chances.

Lyn looked to him. 'So, Mark Tactician-'

'My last name is Artius.'

'Artius right.' She said 'What is the plan?'

'We're… going… to…' If he said run, she was leaving.

Then there was a terrible shrieking from the Owl, and a chill breeze flowed through them, though they were not shaking. The shrieking of an owl. The Wolves looked up with snouts pale, and eyes fearful. A terrified whine escaped from the Leader, and they fled as one, back into the darkness.

Then a wicked green light appeared, alluring like a Willow Wisp, yet wicked to gaze on. Lyn was almost drawn to it, her sword lowering, but Mark caught her by the shoulder and she raised her weapon. The darkness lessened, but it seemed more as though some terrible spectre had ordered it to withdraw that it might deal with the interlopers itself.

The light grew larger and closer, and seemed to envelope more than half the surround. Lyn felt as though she could scarcely move, and Mark looked to be doing no better.

'What is this new devilry?' asked Lyn, trying to contain her fear.

'...A Willow-Wisp. A Demon of the Ancient world.' This foe is beyond any of them. But they could not move.

Then from the forest leapt a Paladin. They did not know how they knew him to be of that order, but he was clad in white rayments and held a gleaming sword.

'Run you fools!'

They ran, cloaks flying behind them as they leapt over rock and under tree. It was a full moon above them, and that sent ice to their blood. Suddenly from the shadows a skeleton leapt, followed by many other shambling things that had once been human, seeking to cut them off in their flight.

It was Lyn who really saved them. She turned round and hacked off several of their arms as Mark dragged her away past the net of bony fingers as it was drawn tight round where the neck of their hope had been. At last they shook off the spell of the Willow-Wisp an with better speed. Yet the Zombies and undead followed their every movement and the road they had found just in time now seemed more a trap.

A funnel from one danger into another. For the green flames of the Willow-Wisp now appeared in the distance ahead, between two cliffs. Yet Mark perceived near the base of the cliff a way up. And he halted. 'This is no good Lyn, they must not surround us. Up the hill! Quickly!'

The way was rock and unpleasant, and as they scaled up it a Zombie nearly caught Mark by the foot. He stabbed it with his spear, and with Lyns helped pulled himself up to a ledge. There they breathed heavily for a few moments as the shadows of the Willow-Wisps light drew closer. And closer. It hurt their eyes.

'We must get up the hill.' said Mark 'Get up Lyn. Get up. Get up!'

Lyn nodded and they stood at once, clambered with hand and foot up the roots, and up to the knees of the hill. Suddenly from a hole in the ground a snake rushed out, with tongue hissing and teeth bared, and Mark found himself paralyzed from the look in its eyes. Lyn brought out her sword and lashed its head off, cutting into the root. 'On your feet Mark! On your feet Soldier!'

She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up the rest of the way.

The Undead had difficulty scaling the cliff after them as Mark clambered up to the heights, and hurled a rope down to Lyn, who used it to scale up to the top of the hill, her feet walking as her arms kept her level. Finally she pulled herself to the top and they rested, gasping for air and lying on the ground.

It seemed that no matter which way they ran, they always saw something beyond their most recent nightmare given form. Their eyes glanced this way and that, a madness of terror upon them, of all that way around them as they fled hoping to find some green field.

There were moaning hisses. The stench of carrion, and the hawking of crows echoed round them as they stumbled up a hill, climbing up roots. Mark fell, and rose again to chase after her rather than be separated from his friend.

Suddenly Lyndis halted, so quickly that Mark nearly fell down the hill again. But Lyn pulled him back, and they ran up and fell, gasping for air on the floor. Groaning.

They landed hard, and Mark rolled off of her. '…Get up Lyndis.' said Mark as they stood. 'Get up. We need to get up!'

And they did, though their muscles were sore and sweat drenched their brows, they ran as far as they could for as long as they could and then stopped as they reached yet another twisting hilltop. There they fell flat on their backs, safe for the moment. 'I…' Lyndis halted 'We cannot go any further like this. Not without at least a breather.'

'Agreed.' said Mark as they fell against the trees, panting like whipped dogs.

'…I stand corrected, by the way.' said Lyndis 'I can handle Bandits, but… those things were supposed to be dead.' A horrifying shriek echoed throughout the trees. 'What are they?'

'They were humans once.' said Mark 'Knights, peasants, men of letters. Then they died within this realm, and something brought them back as a ruinous mockery of life.'

'Who are you really, Mark?' Asked Lyndis, suddenly curious.

'Me?' asked Mark 'Well Lyndis you see I'm actually the Avatar of a God of Tactics, and I only pretend to be a wandering vagabond in order to have an opportunity to ply my trade and squeeze the Knights out of the limelight.'

'You are a slickly dressed vagabond, Mark.' Decided Lyndis after due thought.

'You asked.'

'Whoot! Whoot!'

And then the Undead showed up. Again.

Perhaps it was because they had collected themselves somewhat. Or perhaps they were so unbelievably terrified that it had come full circle into a sort of lucid fear nirvana reunion. It was at this point irrelevant, for what matters it that they heard the shrieking of a mechanical owl as it was torn to shreds.

'Its terror time.' said Mark in resignation as a red smoke appeared with eyes everywhere.

They heard the beating of their hearts, as a shrill screaming of ghostly voices echoed to tense plucking of electric strings. An Ogre made of corpses loomed overhead with a cleaver in hand. Lyn rushed forward and ham stringed it as Mark dodged around and they leapt over the tree trunk, as ghouls with ivory skins leapt from trees.

Through the night they fled, frightened quite beyond their minds. The beating of their hearts echoed as they were now well used to sore feet and ragged movements, as the Zombies climbed up after them. Mark grabbed a nearby tree, laughing hysterically for reasons beyond either of their comprehension and loosing a branch to knock their torsos off, even as they ran onward.

Down the slope, they reached the edge of a marsh, and Lyn got her moccasins soaked as she nearly fell in but righted herself. 'No.' She said as the Undead arrayed themselves on the slope above. 'No! No! I refuse to accept this! This forest was badly grown!'

'There are stepping stones right over there.' said Mark 'Quickly! Over them'

There were lights all around them as they leapt over the stones, the undead mustering by the shore little by little, green light flaring from the water. Yet the undead seemed unwilling to cross by their own methods. Over the stones they ran, and then Lyn tried to take a shortcut by kicking off of a log.

It fell out beneath her, and she landed with a splash, but Mark grabbed her hand as she sought a hold on the stones. 'Gotcha!' He said as he pulled her out, and stepped onto a little island in the center.

They looked to the shore, to see that many of the Skeletons were new. Others had just disappeared. 'Where have they gone?'

Lyn looked round, and saw that the mainland was not far. What looked to have once been a land bridge was there, but there was a gap between them. 'We'll have to jump it. Is the water getting higher?'

It was, for it seemed as thought the length and breadth of the stagnant realm had been shoved to an all mustering host of darkness-

And then the Skeletons emerged from the water. Like humanoid amphibians they had tread on the surface of the lake with Iron Boots, and now emerged in a terrible ring of swords and shield as Mark and Lyn fled up to the top, near the land bridge.

On the far side the dirt fell away to make the gap wider. 'You've got to be joking!' said Mark.

'By all means Mark.' said Lyn as she struck down three Skeletons with three flourishes. 'You first.'

Mark stepped back, and then made a running leap with his spear in both hands as Lyndis carved at rotting faces oozing slime and stepped back to near the edge of a cliff.

She glanced back, and narrowly Mark had made the far side, and began to teeter on the edge, almost falling. Then Lyn put all her strength into a flying backflip lung rushed nearly made the edge.

A multitentacled creature of the ancient world arose grasping for her with wicked intent to snatched Lyndis' leg. Lyn slashed wildly, and knocked Mark forward, who in turned swung round with his spear to knock aside a group of skeletons. One of its tentacles cut fully through, the beast fell backward, disappearing into the marsh.

Lyndis landed on one knee, heart beating endlessly. 'Safe… for now.'

All the trees loomed, as creatures arose around them. Corpses pulled themselves from the wet earth as Lyn and Mark ran from the river as armies of skeletons simply walked out of the river, dead eyes peering like ghosts. Several Skeletal Archers picked shots and loosing arrows as Mark and Lyn leapt for shelter behind a tree.

The arrows planted themselves into it, and they fled into the eves of the Forest without further ado. Free at last.

But the Forest was not willing to let them go without one final reckoning.


	3. A Symphony of Hearts and Minds

Through darkness, and tearing branches they ran, hacking and slashing their way through the leaves around them as they sought some means of escape from the realm they had been so thoroughly lost in. On and on they fled, down a slope and around a long bend. Thus they found themselves upon a path of flat stones and on either side were great thorn bushes with long spikes as long as Marks spearhead.

Suddenly they came to a stair that led down and around beyond sight and Mark fell down. 'Hold here for a moment while I catch my breath.' He said, gasping for air. 'I'm not as athletic as you.'

'Don't I know it.' said Lyn, laughing despite herself. Finally Mark stood.

'I think we can make it to that gate down there.' He said, motioning to a broken gate of shattered darkened wood. But even as they began to climb down, something wicked festered in the heart of the forest, and a green flame appeared in the distance. Then another. Then another. 'Lyn, head down there without me. I want to get a look at that thing whatever it is.'

'We can make it if we run-'

'No!' said Mark quickly. 'No one thing I have learned in my travels is that no one gets out of these places without a reckoning of sorts with the heart of the strangeness.'

'Haven't we had reckoning enough already?!' Shouted Lyn.

'Yes.' said Mark 'We have. But that won't stop it. I'll be right there.'

'Fine, but if I don't see you in four minutes I'm coming up after you.' said Lyn frankly and then she leapt down the curving steps with sheathed sword gripped. As she scaled down them, her foot caught on a loose stair, and it broke and slipped beneath her, sending her tumbling down to the bottom of the stair.

'Ow...' She whined. 'That hurt.'

She was alright, but as she stood she waited, and waited and suddenly realized that something was making her forget what she had been waiting all this time for. It was like her thoughts were being strung out, tasted like fine candy to a wicked creature in a high place. She shuddered, and drew herself away from a bed of roses that had seemed to appear as if from nowhere. She saw many poisonous flowers of a sort her mother had always warned her never to touch.

Her hand was reaching for them automatically and she dragged it back and drew her sword to hack repeatedly at the rose bush beneath her with furious abandon. Suddenly there was a screech of untold horrors, and on the hill above surged a green flame that signaled the end to whatever conflict had occurred.

Down leapt Mark from the steps, exhausted and missing the bad step only to land with a crash on the ground, breathless and clutching his spear. The points gleamed black in the night as Lyn rushed down to the Boy she had just met. 'You, are you awake? Wake up you! We have to get out of here!'

'What? Lyn, why are you talking to me like a stranger.'

'What are you saying, we've only just met now.' She said.

'Really?' He asked in a sarcastic tone that she felt she ought to hate him for. 'Then why have we both been traveling through this forest together?'

'This forest?' She asked as she looked around. 'I've always been here-'

Mark slapped her across the face with a swift movement. 'Get ahold of yourself you fool. Your name is Lyn, you and I met on the plains, and are trying to escape from a horde of zombies. We need to go. Now.'

Suddenly it all came rushing back to her, and she shuddered and looked to the torn apart bed of roses, still flowering wickedly, but scarred and falling to pieces even now. Suddenly Mark removed a packet, and setting it aflame hurled it to explode upon the flowers, which burned in all consuming red flame of the most beautiful sort and died horribly.

Now they were ashes.

'Thank you.' Said Lyn 'Lets go.'

As they walked they reviewed their journey to each other, for they wanted to be sure they had not missed anything and Mark began writing of their experiences in the book. Finally when all had been done Lyn looked up. 'Mark, what happened up there anyway? With the Dark Spirit?'

'A thoroughly wretched creature.' said Mark 'Born of green flame, I did not see its real form. More a shadow by the door, and it made its way slowly down the path, and there at the door it sought to go down after you. I've learned to know magic when I see it, you see.'

'That makes sense. You are a tactician after all.'

'Anyway,' he said 'the thing about Spirits is that they operate on symbolism, and nature spirits can't touch stonework. Or at least forest spirits. I'm not quite sure why, but its something in the stones of Earth, blended with the human legacy that made them.'

'So you mean to say that by standing your ground at the threshold of the doorway,' Lyn said with dawning realization. 'you not only gained a terrain advantage, but also the spirit of humanity to aid you. Thats brilliant!'

'Well when you are a tactician you have to know these things.' He answered.

'And what was that magic you used before?'

'Molotov Cocktail. Pretty handy when fighting wicked woods.'

'Ah.'

And really it should have ended right there and then, for by all rights Mark and Lyn had braved the forest, defeated and escaped the creatures, and been dealt more than their fair share of misery. Yet something within the darkness, a mind of corruption in the vaguest of human forms, was loath to let them leave without one final reckoning, for whatever terrible force had arisen to summon those Green Flames once more to a terrible corruption of life. And from the shadows emerged a creature that one might mistake for human.

Suddenly the green flames flared upon either side of them, and consumed the thorn bushes with smokeless wicked flame and in the center as they ran there stood a being of malcontent and wickedness. A creature two meters high, and in the form of a woman. She had skin as pale as death, and a violet and black cloak, and her eyes were yellow and black as all the hells.

And as happens in dreams, they knew her name.

'Malificent...'

She looked upon them with a disdainful countenance that tore at their thoughts, and sought to turn round their minds to mindlessly follow her own views and plans. 'Where have you come from?' She asked at last, voice sickly sweet.

But Mark knew that speaking with her was a waste of time.

'You look different Malificent,' noted Mark 'I'm guessing that being chopped in half from the shoulder down by Frostmourne didn't agree with you.'

And Lyn then noted that there was a terrible scar upon her left shoulder, that could not be hidden by any shroud or cloak. It lived in her very flesh, scouring her terribly for her ultimate and greatest miscalculation that had passed into legend. She rose up high upon a throne of flaming thorns and sent a bolt of lightning at them as they ran, which blasted apart the rocks behind them.

'I swear, Oh Tactician and Girl of the Plains, by my infernal den!' She called, sending forth another bolt to scorch the path behind them. 'That you shall never escape from this wood alive!'

On they ran, the flames licking at their heels as all the wood around them seemed to rise up in a terrible blaze of fury that sent the whole of the land into darkening smoke. Finally they came to a cliffside, and swiftly with Marks rope they scaled it and climbed up even as the flames consumed that too. On they ran, and on they walked until they came to a bridge that stood at the gate to sunlit lands, meant for two to walk abreast.

Lyn was over it first, but Mark slowed his walk and suddenly he seemed possessed by a spirit older and greater. And he turned and looked up. 'Go back.' He called 'Go back. You cannot enter here. Go. Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your meaningless theatrics, and be forgotten.'

And behind him there seemed then a Knight, an image of the splendor of the Seven Virtues in glory undimmed after the breaking of Camelot. His face was careworn, and his spectre held there the spear through Mark.

_**'Do you not know death when you see it, Knight of Sour Armor!'** _Roared Malificent vainly. **_'This is my three hours!'_**

'Yes I got your hours!' Yelled Mark 'I got all six survive for thirty minutes of them! And I won them offensively!'

The fires of Malificent surged forth, but recoiled as a shield of light halted the attack, yet it was flickering, fading fast and at any moment it seemed for certain he would be consumed. Already sweat was appearing on his brow.

Then, all of a sudden, in the distance a cock crowed. Reckoning nothing of Wizards or War, but only that the light of tomorrow was rising upon the horizon and Malificent recoiled, burned and driven back. For she had stepped beyond the reach of the realms once too often, and now she stood transfixed, the breaking of her own rules returning to tear at her. Yet her eyes flashed like the eyes of the devil himself, and she surged and became now a terrible Dragon, greatest of strength and power, an image of Angelon the Black of Olden Days. Her wings reached as far as the eye could see, and her height seemed up to the stars.

'Head in the clouds hmm.' Noted Mark.

**_'Tomorrow... and tomorrow... and tomorrow... WHAT OF THE DAWN!_**

**_I AM MALIFICENT! MISTRESS OF ALL EVIL! I HAVE GATHERED THE CENTER OF THE WORLDS EVIL IN ONE PLACE! AND THAT PLACE IS ME! I AM INVULNERABLE! FOR DOS THOUGHT NOT KNOW THE PROPHECY! NO MAN OF WOMAN BORN MAY HINDER ME!'_**

_'Old crone.' _thought Mark _'there is a patch in the hollow of your left breast as bare as a snail out of its shell.'_

'Yes not of woman born am I?!' Called back Mark 'For I was from my mothers womb untimely ripped!'

And from all her delusions and terrible madness Malificent was shaken, for she now perceived that for all her might she had lost sight of her enemy, her rampant bellows had failed to avail her. She called to her all her most wicked and evil of creatures as she took once more the form of a Dragon, yet more than sufficient to crush him. For she loomed over Mark like a Castle.

He halted there, his spear readied as if to drive it back and Malificents eyes now black as night, her face burned by acid in battle with a King of Old whom married her changeling daughter. A terrible wound lay on her shoulder, and she was now but a fraction of her once power.

The spear in Marks hand gave her pause, and Mark realized why before she did. By that time he was already running, and Lyn and Mark made the bridge. Yet the roots writhed and moaned around them and as Mark reached the center he stopped and turned round.

The daylight was within sight, yet he knew it would be of no help. Here upon this bridge of human make would he make his stand. For himself there was no hope, this was his final act and all that now remained to him was to destroy this wicked creature or be destroyed. The bridge beneath him cracked as many dark things surrounded Lyndis, who struck round at them, only for a Thornbush to arise and grasp her round the throat.

'Move and she dies!' Gloated Malificent, and Marks spear loosened in his hand.

Then suddenly something happened that neither could understand. A spear, cast as if from nowhere, caught her in the hand that controlled the thorns, and her claw reeled as it stuck her where it hurt most. She called aloud, and her distraction was Marks chance.

_It _did not make any sense at all. The contest was between a Demi-God, and a Mortal. A creature of the supernatural, and a single courageous person against all the evil the forest could muster. How could he stand against them? Yet it seemed as though a greater force, without beginning or ending was working through him, so that Marks eyes glowed like some celestial being, and as green flame met spear it was turned aside to burn away her roots.

Malificent shrieked an echoing cry, but then formed and twisted by sacrificial right into a beast, a Dragon, full ten mets high with wings like a bat, and eyes of fire.

Her breath was death and fire itself, but a shield of light surrounded Mark as he held his ground as the will of humanity itself coursed through him. The power of order.

_'__Go back to your faux glade of hypocrisy, Queen of Murderers!'_ called the God of Order, and their power crashed again and again on each, and Lyndis stood in awe. For the shield was deflecting the fires of this darkness.

Then Mark beheld his chance and raising his spear, he uttered these words:

'Black Spear, you've never failed me, and always I have recovered you. I had you from the Treasury of King Stephen, and he from of the Old Kingdoms of Fantasia. If ever you came from the forges of Atlantis as claimed, go now, and speed well!' And turning it round in his hand he hurled it. It blazed with light, and caught Malificent in the heart, and she screamed and fell back, her eyes blazing to dust with an allconsuming wretchedness, as the spear burned through the twisted mockery that she had wrought as a second form, and removed itself from her.

And all across the universe a thousand prophecies of twisting mockery's were undone, as a thousand murderers destined to be saved from their rightful judgement found themselves places back where they belonged, at the end of their rope. Malficent shrieked and burned and fell downward, but Mark leaped away over the bridge that broke beneath her enormity.

One finally snap of her jaws almost nabbed him, but Lyn struck, once twice thrice and through and through and Malficent burned away, eyes falling into darkness. Gone forever, unless her heart might be found in far away universe's by one with spirit enough and kindness enough might breath life into her. Yet if she does ever return it shall not be as she was.

As far as Mark knew, however, his spear was gone for good.

And that was intolerable to him, until it came spinning round through the air to land in his upraised palm to be caught, and in triumph he spun it round twice before planting it aside him, as Lyn made a similar movement of victory. There was a long, long, awkward silence.

The light only got lighter. 'Hmm, well thats good.' said Mark 'Lets go home.'

'Personally I'd rather go on.' Admitted Lyn.

'Fair enough.'

And they did just that.

The wood became far less dark as they walked, for it seemed that a festering malignancy that had long hovered over it for little to no reason they could comprehend had lifted. Thus for a time the lights returned, and they found themselves upon a path that ran down along the hills and around the Mountains, which they could now see.

A little glade they could see, filled with flowers shining and a wooden cottage where a farmer was working.

'This is too good to be true.' decided Mark after due consideration.

'Agreed.' said Lyndis as they continued walking toward the farm. 'Excuse me-'

The Farmer was a Zombie, and with him were three other Zombies who looked quite a bit younger than usual. 'Run away! Run away!'

Thus did they flee, and thus did the Zombies pursue, but poorly at that for their hearts just didn't seem in the chase. Then Fllewdur Flame arrived looking for rumors of an old man impersonating him and meaning to tell him he'd rather he not steal his harp.

He halted as he saw four Zombies, and sighed long and deeply. 'Well there goes my vacation. Sacrificed to the caravan guards.' He drew his sword and got back to work while Taran Caer Dallben was preaching about how a Fortress had, apparently, become his arch nemesis post humorously.

Personall Flewdurr thought he was more interested in the sound of his own voice, than actual results.

By that time Lyndis and Mark had quite strayed into yet another part of the forest, gotten back on the road in record time and were just departing when-

'I think we should get off the road.'

'You have got to be kidding me?!' Shouted Mark, at his wits end. 'We just fought our way through-'

An unholy screech echoed, and both leapt off the road and took cover beneath a series of branches beneath the roots. A creature then road by, and they could not sense it, or feel it, or hear it. It was the absence of senses, as if it was not there. But its nothingness loomed overhead like a plague.

They were short of breath, and short of patience and tired and exhausted and just about out of emotional highs to go on. They stood there, as there was a sniffing sound, but sniffing for what?

They did not know, but it sent a chill through them.

Amidst this, Mark, for that was his name saw a Halfing. Four Halflings, or hobbits as they had called themselves in this part of the world. There was a glance from the leftmost of them, as if mutually acknowledging the absurdity of the situation. Then he removed a bag, as if to offer it in gift.

Mark raised his hands, waving them away, and the Hobbit looked up, and realized the creature had moved on.

Mark looked to where Lyndis was about to draw her sword, and caught her hand. Then glanced back to the Hobbit who had a thoughtful, and terribly awful, wonderful idea.

Mark closed his eyes in resignation.

Then he hurled the bag of mushrooms, and the creature looked up and chased further down the road. Mark and Lyn ran, but they also took the Mushrooms, and later had a very nice picnic in a sunny glade before they stood up and regarded the creatures appeared with drooling faces and slathering decaying mouths of crooked teeth. They sighed.

Apparently Flewdurr Flame had missed a few.

'Orders?'

'You kill the ones on that side, I'll kill the ones on that side.'

Then they charged and hacking and stabbing with such deadly stress relief, they hacked their way through to freedom. Yet though the Undead were tireless, they were not.

Fortunately it seemed that the Skeletons had found other prey, so they were troubled no more in their journey.

'A giant tentacle beast in the middle of a sorrowful swamp protecting a road that leads… here.' said Lyndis 'And a dark forest spirit who rains fire on us in dragon form, while Zombies pursue… I'm starting to think that these might not be Bandits we're killing here.'

'Since when is traveling about killing bandits?' asked Mark.

'It was merely an observation.'

They crossed over a river that was stained with black blood running down stream they ran and finally they halted on the far side. Through the night they had gone, and their pursuit was such that they had travelled farther than any could have realized without even knowing it. For quite suddenly, they emerged from the forest-

Right over a sheer drop and Mark faltered, nearly slipping forward. Lyn caught him from behind, but that just made them both slip downward, tumbling head over heel to land with a crash.

Their faces were two inches from each other, and Lyndis quickly pulled herself off. There they lay for a few moments, breathing heavily.

Suddenly Lyndis screamed aloud, echoing outward across the length and breadth of the whole valley, and curing a locals drunk depression and alcoholism.

'…We're out!' said Lyndis in relief. 'We're-'

'Shut up, don't jinx us.' said Mark for principles sake 'Lets move.'

As for the Skeletons, I'm afraid they came to a bad end. For they ran afoul of Butterbur, who for all his simple appearance, did not tolerate Skeletons disrupting his Bar and with his club sent them fleeing far away until they found the wonders of music and started a band and became respectable members of undead society.

But that is an entirely different story that we shall not talk about here.


	4. Mark Vs the Quest

**Chapter Four: Mark Vs the Quest**

It had taken them a great deal of time and effort, through many unpleasant adventures to find it, but at long last they had found the realm of Bulgaria, where the grain was sweet and all who beheld its Knights paid in amaze, thinking that they might actually end up not losing to Bulgaria.

And now Mark and Lyn absolutely refused to not like the look of its brown walls and thatched roofs. They stared upward, admiring it as if it were the greatest thing they had ever gazed upon. And perhaps it was, and they just didn't know it yet.

Their eyes were becoming a bit teary, so Lyn stepped forward and turned round, meaning to mark the occasion.

'Mark! Over here!

This is Bulgar, the biggest city in all of Sacae!'

…

There was silence, as they tried to think of something else to say.

'Look at that tree.' said Mark 'Have you ever seen leaves of that sort?' He quickly drew out his book and began to write absently notes and sketches, until he had the general shape of it out.

'No, never,' she admitted 'it must be some new kind of tree.'

'Don't be foolish.' said Mark 'Trees change very suddenly, and you only realize they have changed until it is too late to not already be used to them.'

'So trees are like stealthy assassins now?'

'Maybe,' said Mark 'but what will really make you paranoid is, what if they are in league with the Undead?'

Lyn shuddered.

'We should purchase supplies for our journey.' said Mark, and they walked forward-

And stopped, not quite sure how to continue. For though they had long been on the road, they knew not the purpose of their mission.

And this is how they met Sain. 'Oh my heart what a dazzling vision of loveliness!' Went the merry call, and Mark instantly hated this guy.

'Hm?'

'Wait O beauteous one! Would you not favor me with your name, or better yet your company?'

'This is better than a play.' Noted Mark, waiting for Lyn to spurn him.

'Where are you from sir knight, to speak so freely to a total stranger?' She was annoyed.

'Ha! I'd thought you'd never ask!' Sain proclaimed 'I am from Lycia. I hail from the Caelin Canton home to men of passion and fire.' Well it was obvious he had no idea how to woo someone politely. Or subtlely. Or at all.

'This does not sound so credible.' Noted Mark with a smile that annoyed Sain, hoping for fury.

'Shouldn't that be "home to callow oafs with loose tongues"?' Asked Lyn, sending him stepping back awkwardly.

'Indeed.' Agreed Mark.

He shut his book, his drawing complete. 'I think we must be going Lyn.'

Sain looked thoroughly whipped by his recent conversation, and Lyn gave him a look torn between pity and 'serves you right'.

'Lets go Mark, I have nothing more to say.' She finally decided on.

And with that they walked off on their own, looking through the various shops.

'Wait! Please…' Sain looked truly pitiful, but Mark didn't care, and Lyn certainly didn't, and neither did Kent for that matter.

'Hold on a moment,' said Mark as they approached the gates. 'from the looks of things we have an audiance. Don't you people have anything better to do?'

Apparently not, and Lyn and he looked over to see Kent and Sain almost instinctively going into what Mark had labeled 'stage mode.' 'All the world is a stage for Knights, and all the people merely players, or so the old saying goes.' said a Yeoman.

'Personally I've always preferred an army marches on its stomach.' Muttered Mark.

'Sain! Hold your tongue!' said Kent as he appeared behind Sain.

'Ah Kent! My boon companion!' said Sain 'Why so severe an expression?'

'I'd like them not as our companions.' Murmured Mark into Lyndis' ear. 'Run for it.'

'I want to see what happens.' Admitted Lyn, and he sighed.

'If your manners were more serious I would not have to be so severe! We still have a mission to complete, Sain!'

'Quickly now. While the spectacle lasts.' said Mark, tone becoming worried. 'Round the side door.'

'I think you are right.' Agreed Lyn and they hurried away. But they found that the eastern gate, or 'side door' as Mark had named it in haste, was blocked by two brown roan horses, saddled poorly as usual. Mark walked forward, muttering in disgust and began fixing the saddle as best he could.

'What are you doing?'

'Trying to get out of here.' Answered Mark 'And fix this slip shod work, truly befitting of a Knight.' Lyn looked at him oddly, and he met her gaze wearily. 'Its a long story.'

'I know that.' objected Sain 'But how could I remain silent in the face of such loveliness? It would have been a discourtesy!

'What do you know of courtesy?'

'What do you have about Knights?'

'They roam from town to town, leaving girls with their maidenhoods stolen, and bodies on the road, and then speak of things like poetry and love as though they understood them. But they know nothing about war, and they know nothing about love!' roared Mark as softly as possible as he fixed the saddle. 'I exhausted myself fixing their screwups once, I shall not do so again.' He looked at her, and realized that she had no idea why they were not just moving past. 'We can't pass without stealing their horses. Which is a hanging offense.'

He looked up, and Lyn halted for a moment, before glaring over at them and storming toward them. 'Excuse me, you are blocking the road. If you would be so kind as to move your horses…'

Mark was impressed, he'd never taken Lyndis to be the gunboat diplomacy sort. Then again, perhaps she was just asking nicely.

'Of course. My apologies…' said Kent.

'Thank you.' said Lyn 'You, at least, seem honorable enough.'

'Tell him nothing.' said Mark before he could stop himself. 'He will never look a servant in the eye.'

'Hm? Pardon me, but…' Kent halted 'I feel we've met before.'

'I beg your pardon?' said Lyn.

'Hey no fair Kent! I saw her first!'

'Tsk!' said Lyn 'It seems there are no decent men among Lycia's Knights! Let's go, Mark! I've run out of patience!' And they went on, cutting free the reigns of the horses and letting them run wild for the Knights to catch in public as Kent tried to calm his horse after being wrapped with the flat of Lyn's blade.

'Wait, please, its not like that…'

But they were already walking away, departing the town and traveling down the road. The mood had been thoroughly ruined, of course but their anger was enough to keep them walking a good way while the Knights tried to get their horses in check.

When at last they had, Sain and Kent stood somewhat humiliated where they were. Kent spoke at last: '… …

Sain you lout!'

'Huh? Not like that? I thought you were…'

'I am not you!'

It was the chuckling around them which made Kent blush in humiliation, and he pulled his horse along with him. 'Come, we must follow her. I suspect she might be—' He cut himself off and pulled himself to his seat.

'Be what?' Kent passed him the reigns. 'She's our mission?' Kent urged his horse forward as Sain mounted his steed. 'Oh you're joking! Wait!'

…

Lyn slashed him across the throat, as Mark stabbed up with his spear. Neither had been particularly impressed or surprised by the outcome of the conversation.

'Heads up, Lady Lyndis.' said Mark 'There are more.'

She gave him a rueful, not surprised look.

For at that moment many Bandits emerged, bearing axe and loincloth. Their eyes were narrow, and their faces scarred, their bodies deformedly muscular like guerillas, and hunched over as if they were some form of lower primate. They roared and swore and menaced at them with axes, and Mark and Lyn stood back to back as they surrounded them.

At that moment there was a call. 'Hold and get ye hither! Or prepare to die!'

It was Sain, and he leapt over the hill with spear and shield, clad in gleaming green mail while Kent was behind him. The Bandits were dismayed and scattered each way, as Lyn and Mark looked up, for once glad to see them.

'My thanks to you gentlemen.' said Mark 'Mine and Lyn's.' He met Kent's gaze, and there was recognition there. Finally.

'You there, what is your business?'

'Not dying.' Answered Mark flatly.

'Such numbers against a girl-' said Sain, calling to the Bandits who even now had arrayed themselves in force.

'And her friend.' said Lyn, annoyed.

'-cowards every one of you!' To be fair it was an accurate statement. Sort of.

'You! You're from—' Began Kent suddenly.

'We can discuss this later. We have Bandits to fight.' said Mark.

'Stand back!' said Kent, voice commanding. 'We'll take care of this!' Yes, and then they could escape on their own.

'No! This is my fight!' Lyn said 'Stay out of my way!'

'Well, they can't just stand here and do nothing.' said Mark, annoyed at being shoved out of things. 'Try calling for ale and wenches, Sain.'

The Bandits were beginning to look just a bit insulted. 'I have a solution,' said Kent in his Knightly voice. 'you there, command us. I am Kent, a knight of Lycia. My companion is Sain.' Lets pretend we don't know one another, because that way I win.

'We will follow your orders in this battle.' After that, nothing.

'Oh wonderful.' laughed Mark, before glancing to Lyn. 'Lets get back to work.'

'Is this acceptable milady?'

'You are seriously doing this now?' asked Mark. 'When we're about to be attacked by Bandits? Why don't you just hand her a Golden Ring while your at it!' The Bandits seemed somewhat in agreement, and not at all happy about the fact.

'Yes…' said Lyn 'it is? Mark and I will lead.

Lets go!'

'Excellent.' said Mark 'I am Mark Artius, Tactical Advisor to Lady Lyndis. I see you have already taken note of her earlier proclamations regarding your presence here, and I'm sure it does not cover anything you were not already familiar with.'

Kent and Sain winced like schoolchildren.

'At any rate, Knights in Shining Armor, I do have orders for you. Sain, you ride as far as you can that way, and Kent you ride as far as you can that way.'

'What?' said Kent 'But that is away from the battlefield?'

He looked to Lyn, and she gave Mark an odd look. 'Fine, but you'd better be right about this.'

'What?!' said Sain 'But Mark we are Knights not-'

'Those are my orders.' said Mark 'And if nobody follows orders then we might as well just throw the whole system out. Lyn, approach that bandit, use the brush for cover and focus on counterattacking. Kent, Sain, if it should appear to be going poorly, you are to reinforce her.

Lets move people.'

And they broke off, with Mark following Lyndis into the center of a clearing, filled with many trees. They saw a Bandit, who saw them in turn and rushed at Lyn. Yet Lyn dodged the first bandits strike, and skirted round the edge of a tree to slash him twice across the back in a bloody red x, that sent him reeling.

Mark caught one through the throat as he lunged via standing his ground, then drew out the spear and plunged his spear up through Lyndis' from behind, before drawing it out and letting the body land with a crash. Lyn looked down, and then up somewhat reproachfully at Mark.

'I saw an opportunity, and I took it.'

Yet at that moment they remembered the Knights, both sped up a nearby hill, seeking to find some means by which they could see how their unlikely allies were faring. Yet the trees were all around. 'Quick,' said Lyn 'give me a boost, and I'll climb to the top.' Mark winced as she climbed up over him, reaching the top of the tree and looked out. 'Alright, one is rushing at Sain, but Kents rushing to help him. He's gotten him across the back with a sword stroke, and Sain has finished him with a spear to the shoulder. Wait, he's still standind and slashing, is he some kind of Ogre?

An axe has glanced off Kents shield, he's been run through!?'

'Kent?'

'No, the Ogre.'

'Oh good.'

'The Ogre is down.'

Mark felt the shoes on his shoulders and winced. 'There are more crossing the bridge near us.'

'We'll cut them off then.' said Mark 'Lure them out, and then break off.'

'Agreed.'

Down the hill they ran, spear and sword ready as they reached the bridge. The Bandits roared and rushed to meet them, these ones had green skin, and bulky appearance. They met them halfway across the bridge, but Mark slipped off his feet and brought his spear point up as the enemy was impaled by his own momentum.

Marks back ached, and he felt as though his whole body had been knocked out of whack for a few moments, during which he saw Lyndis beat down her enemies axe and cleave his head from his shoulders.

_'__Accursed Knights, always tampering in others affairs!' said a Voice._

Lyn and Mark stood up, and then bore witness to the last charge, where Sain and Kent rode for the bridge, and Kent proved the swifter of horse. He nimbly dodged aside from the Ogres axe blow, and raked him cross the side as he passed and wheeled round to flee.

'The fool.' said Mark 'He ought to finish him now.'

'Why is he stopping?'

Mark knew already, for Kent met Sain and most traditionally clashed weapons as they passed eachother as if to say 'yours.'

'The Ogre is standing.'

'Sain hasn't had a kill yet. Kents giving him a second chance. Its a silly tradition.' said Mark in disgust. 'Still-'

Sain rode forward, with spear lowered and shield readied as though for a joust, but this was no joust. For the Ogre stepped away, and brought down his axe, and smote Sain's shield with force enough to send him reeling.

'He's almost been knocked from his saddle, wait, he's pulled himself up somewhat- We have to help him!'

Thus Lyn did run through the trees, blade in hand with Mark rushing up and trying to keep up with her full pace.

Her sword gleamed in the waning sunlight as she leapt into the air and brought down her blade and around to slash her enemy across the throat, even as Mark rushed forward and drove his spear through his gut, before dragging it out and leaping away from the giant, who fell with thunderous crashes upon the rocks.

Out went her sword, and raked him cross the through as she passed him.

'Blast…

There was only supposed to be a lone… girl…'

Mark suddenly felt a terribly bitter taste in his mouth, for this enemy was not like the others. Some seven men were dead now, to protect Lyn. And yes it was justified, but still…

'That is the last of them! Fantastic work Mark!'

'Someone knows our road.' He shoved back his worries with practical concerns.

Lyn regarded him, her enthusiasm gone. 'But who? And why?'

'Perhaps the Knights can enlighten you.' said Mark 'I'm going to go have a look around.' And with that he faded into the shadows with the ordinary everyday sort of magic that few indeed can fully master or understand.

The land grew steadily darker as the two Knights arrived, on foot. Their armor was battered, and Sain had a bandage round his arm. He saw Lyndis standing alone, and by his face he must have assumed the worst.

'See to your friend.' said Kent, bitterly as he threw coins to her. 'He was a brave man.'

'Mark is still alive.' said Lyn quickly. 'He believed that someone had been marking our progress, and decided he should scout ahead.'

That, evidently, was not quite what Kent had expected to hear. 'I… that is good news. Still, don't you-'

'He has been a good companion in my journey, and we have both saved eachothers life more than once.' said Lyn 'And anyone who should not want his company may leave my army at once.'

'As I have said before.' said Mark as he reappeared 'These few do not make an army. We must leave this place.' They turned and headed back to the Town of Bulgar, where their wounds were healed and horses watered and they were fed a great deal in thanks for ridding them of a force of Bandits who many suspected would wipe them out.

It was a good deed that Mark liked well enough.

The secret, if it had ever been a secret, was now out. No one felt like acknowledging it at the moment, however, so on they walked in silence, back to Bulgar where their wounds were healed and horses watered.

'And now for these Knights of Lycia.' She noted the symbol on their Shields. 'You were going to share your story with me?'

'Yes.

We have ventured from Caekin in Lycia, in search of someone.' said Kent, but he would not say any more on the subject for quite some time. 'Lycia… thats the country beyond the Southwest mountains, isn't it?'

'Correct. We've come as messengers to the Lady Madelyn, who eloped with a nomad some 19 years ago.'

Presently Lyn questioned further. 'Madelyn?'

'Our Lord the marquess of Caelin's only daughter.' Clarified Kent after a moment. Doubtless that Lyn had not been told her heritage had not entered his thoughts. 'He was heartbroken that his own daughter would abandon him so. Eventually the Marquess simply declared that he had no daughter.

And then this year we received a letter from Lady Madelyne. It said that she, her husband, and daughter were living on the Sacae plains.'

'The Marquess was ecstatic to learn that he had a granddaughter of 18 years. I remember the smile on his face when he announced that he'd suddenly become a granddaughter.'

'I know!' said Mark suddenly. 'I was in the room with you when you passed the letter to him!' He was furious, not just about the way in which the Knights had hijacked the quest to their own ends, but also about the way they were leaving his own part in it out.

Lyn gave him a look of surprise, and Mark sighed. 'Nevermind, its not important.'

'…I remember my mother writing that letter.' She said after a moment.

'The granddaughters name is Lyndis,'

'Truly you have a dizzying intellect.'

This was also the name of the marquess's wife, who passed away at an early age.

Lyndis?

That she should bear his name thawed the marquess' heart.

Now his only wish is to meet his daughters only family at least once.

This is why we are here. We didn't know that Lady Madelyne died a few days after-

'We never told you that much.' said Mark sharply.

'-sending her letter…

We only learned this shortly after finding our way to Bulgar.'

Silence.

'But we also learned not all was lost. Her daughter yet lives.'

Silence.

'We heard she was living alone on the plains.'

Continued silence.

'I… I knew it immidiatly, you are the Lady Lyndis.'

'Why would you think that?'

'Your resemblance to your departed mother is striking.'

'What?' asked Lyn 'Did you know my mother?'

'He must have seen a picture. They lined the walls of the Castle, believe me.' said Mark 'I'll go where you go, Lyn.'

'I'm sorry to say- I never met her directly, but I saw her portraits in Castle Caelin.' There was continued silence as Lyns gaze became just a bit unsteady, she kept glancing between the Knights expectant courtesy and Mark, who finally had had enough.

'Cease insulting her intelligence and ask her plainly.' He said at last. 'Or not at all.'

For her part, Lyn walked off and Mark followed her out to near a fountain where she took a cup from her pack and sipped the water, then finally splashed it on her face to hide reddening cheeks stained with tears. 'To the rest of my tribe I was always Lyn, but when we were alone it was Lyndis…' She looked up. 'Mark… I'm sorry this changes everything.'

'Don't worry about it.' He said 'Things change, for better or worse.'

'What will you do, Mark?' She asked.

'Lyn, I'm your tactician, I'm your friend. You shall be, and always will be, mine.' And he realized he truly meant it.

'You… want me to decide. Of course your companionship would do much to ease my journey, but…

It's going to be so dangerous.'

'More dangerous than Malificent?' asked Mark 'I think not. I'm with you.'

'You'll come?'

'Lyn, before I met you I had no place in the world, no strong desire in life and was sufficiently directionless that I walked into bandit infested territory for no reason. When I look at you… I'm home.'

'Are you sure?' She pressed him. 'Because I don't-'

'Yes! Now stop asking!

'Thank you!' She said as she leapt up girlishly. 'Of course they will have to ask us plainly, as you said. I may go with them, but on my own terms.' They regarded the Knights, who remained silent. Finally Sain walked forward.

'Milady Lydis of Caelin, would you honor us by coming South to meet your long lost grandfather.'

'Sure.' said Lyn, and that was that.

Except they were still on foot and the Knights had horses. 'We'll have to cross many miles to Caelin, and we lost our packs. I don't suppose you two brought any money?'

'Uh…' Kent halted awkwardly. 'These realms are often beset by more subtle bandits-'

'Pickpocket?'

'Yes.' He said miserably.

'It happens.' said Lyn 'We'll have to go on half ration, and wish our packs heavier.'

'Wait,' said Sain, looking to the river. 'suppose we just hired a ferry.'

'We don't have any money.' Answered Kent in deadpan.

'Well we could commission one.'

'No!' said Lyn 'Do you have any idea how risky such a venture is? I will not impose on a boatman's livelihood simply to avoid a bit of starving.'

'My sincerest apologies.' said Kent bitterly. 'In ordinary circumstances you should have been able to travel as Near-Royalty.'

'Does the Marquess count as Royalty?'

'I don't know. Its just a rank.'

'I believe it does.' said Sain 'Or rather it is a position that is often assigned to one whose duties and power are near Royalty, but whom does not technically hold the rank.' Awkward silence as both looked to Mark, who was deep in thought. 'Alright what is it?!'

'I have an idea that just might work. I can make it all work quickly, and we won't have to travel anywhere near as long.'

….

The materials of his plan formed in haste and now stood before them. Lyn had a nasty suspicion at the back of her mind, but quelled it. 'Barrels Mark? Is this some kind of joke?'

'Apple Barrels, actually.' He said, trying to resist the urge to smile. And failing miserably. 'All will be made clear, but first I need you to set straw within them.'

'Are you planning to go by raft?'

'No, of course not.' He said 'Too expensive.'

They began to work, and much straw was placed, while Mark washed the grime as best he could from his face and hands and rinsed out his cut a bit more.

'Alright, we've done what you asked. Now what?'

'Take your armor off.'

'Excuse me?'

'Armor is extra weight, it will sink your method of transport.'

'But- fine, Christ.'

Lyn, of course, had already begun to figure out what he was planning to do, and so had the Knights. But the Knights were looking to her to challenge the plan which she had agreed to without knowing fully. Yet she could not now deny the plan before the face of her Captains.

'You first Sain and Kent.' She said 'Do as he says.'

'But-'

'Quickly. While we still have time.'

They did as they were asked, and Mark pulled out some parchment from his cloak. 'Sain, Kent, I need you to sign this.'

'What is it?'

'Its a blank piece of parchment. I just need you to sign it, and give permission for horse transportaton.'

'I will not leave my horse with you!'

'Not me. Wil.'

Wil was a red haired fellow with gleaming green eyes and he looked at Mark in shock. 'You- your serious about this aren't you?' He said, voice mixed with horror and shock.

'He's the thief!' said Sain.

'Oh there is no proof of that.' said Mark 'Probably just an accident.'

'Yes, you would be surprised at how many pickpockets there are out in these parts.' Noted Wil 'Whole gangs of em, pick clean every pocket from here to Caelin. Not many gutsy enough to steal from Knights though. Must have been one bold pickpocket.'

Meanwhile, Mark and Lyn had thrown the Knights armor into a barrel and Kent looked up. 'What are you doing?'

'Handing this letter over to Wil here. Congratulations Wil, you are now the proud transporter of two Knightly horses. If you loose them, you are dead meat. If you steal them, you are dead meat. If you lose one, and steal the other than every Knight from here to the other continent will look up and say 'horse thief!' and hang you high at the end of it.

Do not lose this parchment, or you are as good as dead.'

Wil flinched. 'Well suppose I should run into a Knight whose stealing the horses. What do I do then?'

'Tell the truth.' said Kent as Sain was herded into a barrel by Lyn. 'And hope that the Magistrate is feeling merciful.' Then he was herded into a barrel, and both he and Lyn shut the last of the four.

Mark looked up to Lyn, a sly expression on his face. She flinched. 'No. No! I'm in command!'

'Very well then.' said Mark 'Into the river with the barrels. I don't suppose the Knights shall come up this way again, if they even feel the inclination to.'

'…I'll get you for this Mark.' she said as she was herded in. 'I'll get you if its the last thing I do!' Then the Barrel door was closed shut. Mark looked up to see Wil holding the lever to the trap door.

It was at this point that Mark remembered both the flaw in this plan, and a very important lesson about honor among thieves. Or pickpockets and tacticians.

'Oh son of a b-'

Wil pulled the lever, and Mark scarcely had time to grab a barrel as they were sent hurtling downriver en masse.

Downriver they went, surging along the rapids toward lands they once had known. Mark found himself hanging on for dear life to Lyns barrel, and spent much of his time trying to get the ones with the armor and weapons close enough. He could tell by the clanging.

_'__Down the crossing stream you go, back to lands you once did know!'_

Lyn was mmphing angrily from within the barrel as he perched atop it. 'Stop complaining! I never offered any false promises of Royal Luxury on the trip there!'

_'__Look beyond the realm of dreams,_

_Into the whispering breeze,'_

There was jolting and unpleasantness enough on the trip, and Mark took some time to reflect on how silly some of the tall tales had gotten of lake. 'Fighting Orcs in barrels! Hmph, you'd be hard pressed to hold on.'

_Under forests bright and dim,_

_Stoops in shadows gray and-_

Lyns sword went through the woodwork and he flinched back. 'Hey! Quit it! You'll get us both killed!'

Round many bends and winding turns they went, and finally he saw it. Mark had come far and through many adventures to see it, and now he did not like the look of it one bit. It fit every description one could have had for a fairy tale Castle, and that was why he hated it.

It seemed to reach for the sky because it thought it owned it by right. And that annoyed him. Still, the skies looked very nice and he realized he had an angle for admiring the rolling hills that none before had ever quite had.

Within some hours they had reached the port, called the Capital City, a precise if not too imaginative name for the City was, in fact, the Capital City. 'Rather redundant.' Muttered Mark as he swam ashore and pulled himself up by a fishing net as the Barrels were brought upward.

He wrangled out his cloak a bit and made his way toward the Lord who stood by the Docks, mouth open as he stared at Mark. The other Soldiers clearly had not idea what to think.

Mark looked to the river, then to his Lord, and shrugged as the Lord Lundegren a veteran of countless vicious battles and wars fought against the Bandits looked for once in his life, absolutely speechless.

'Its Mark, the Tactician of Lundegren.' said Someone, and Mark raised his hands as one of the barrels burst open, and Lyn arose in new fury.

'I am Lyndis.' She said 'Granddaughter of the Marquess… I… have… returned…'

She said as Kent and Sain tumbled out of the barrels, too exhausted to even move. Then Lyn roared and charged right at Mark with sword upraised and tackle hugged him to the ground. 'I'm going to kill you!'

'I…' Lundegren halted. 'I… I can't deal with this right now. Mark, take charge of the situation.' Then he turned and walked off as Mark got the note and Lyndis rolled off of him. Mark stood up.

'Where are you going Sir?'

'To see if there's a pub!' snarled Lundegren, before opening the door and slamming it behind him.

'Well he's in a particularly fine mood this morning.' said Mark 'Get the Knights ashore, once we have rested we can arrange for you to be presented to the Marquess.' He looked round at the docks. 'Alright everyone pack it up for today, don't do anymore hip hip hooray!'

And he tossed the parchment to Kent before walking off to the bathhouses that remained from Ancient Times, still functioning from years and years ago.

'Bilbo Baggins you magnificent bastard I read your book!'

….

Mark Wins!

**Authors note:**

Seriously though, this is not quite the end of the Lyn arc. I just really wanted to make use of this idea, and as for why I choose to place a river near the town? Because the river is the place most towns are placed near, if they can help it.

Its a natural barrier, and can help with trade. Taxes, exports, imports.

Don't worry, I plan on bringing in the others.

As of right now though, this is the end of Arc 1.

Here is a List of references:

Dragonheart. The Greatest Action Story ever told.

Sleeping Beauty. One of the greatest Disney Villains out there features in this. A Character so badass that she dodges the Prophecy and has to be killed directly by Prince Phillip in single combat.

The Prydain Chronicles. A wonderfully underated Fantasy Book series that I think is well worth a look. There are five books in all. The High King, The Black Cauldron {way cooler than the slipshod movie made of it.} and I can't really remember the others. Well there was Castle of Lyr, but...

You know what just read them yourselves. And check out the Iron Ring while you are at it.

RTS Genre galore. Age of Mythology, Warcraft 1, 2, and 3, you name it its probably on this list.

I would have mentioned that movie Malificent, but its the movie that made me lose all faith in Hollywoods credibility. We are talking about a movie so poorly put together and badly written that it manages to beat World of Warcraft at bad storytelling. The first mission of Warcraft 1 makes more sense that this absurd story of a Movie. A film so nauseatingly bad that it became the first Movie in my entire life that I walked out of before the end of it.

And to top it off, it rips off Dragonheart, which is just insulting because Bowen could one shot that bitch with a spear throw. In fact, I quote Draco:

'Is that the best you can do?!'

YAAAAGGH


End file.

Fire Emblem, Adventure, Humor