The Five Kingdoms

Olafur looked out across the valley, the moon radiating at his back so brightly the fields and trees were visible for several miles. He and the other acolytes lined the monastery wall, watching the explosions of flame coming from the village. The thunderous explosions echoed throughout the valley.

But unlike the previous nights, when they gathered to watch the festival crackers play over Moon’s Thresh, these explosions were not welcome. The village was under attack. From whom, and for what aim, he and the other initiates could only surmise.

The voice of the abbot suddenly rang out. “Come down here, all of you.” Her voice revealed the anxiety they were all feeling. The monks and nuns were already gathered around her in the temple’s main courtyard, several carrying tall torches, others leaning on stout staffs that were normally reserved for the training hall. Olafur and the others promptly joined their circle.

“The danger that we have long feared has come to pass.” Her voice carried throughout the courtyard, seeming to echo against the darkness surrounding them. “Prepare to defend the Temple. The Orb must not fall into enemy hands.”

The Temple of the Moon was not a martial order. The members were trained to defend themselves, and the abbot could call upon the energy of the moon’s light to tremendous effect, but were a troop of soldiers to besiege them, possessing magic of their own, the monastery could put up little resistance.

Just as Olafur turned, ready to fulfill the abbot’s orders, another voice stopped his motion.

“Mother, this day was foretold long ago. The prophecies were very clear. The enemy will exceed our abilities.” It was the rector, Alsam Lim.

“Do not weigh the prophecy too heavily. Only the wisest prophets are remembered, or perhaps the luckiest, but countless are proven false for every one that is true. Regardless of any prophecy, an object of such power was bound to attract attention from those who would use it for battle. I will take the necessary steps to insure they do not succeed.”

The abbot ended the gathering and Olafur hastened to his chamber, where he would change into his heavy tunic and sandals. The abbot’s words weighed heavily on him. The prophecies formed one of the central tenets of their order. Did their mother intend to ignore them, at their greatest moment of danger? It did not surprise him, but it did not sit easy with him either.

As he left his chamber, ready to join the others in readying their defenses, he encountered Griffin, the Abbot’s personal cleric, in the narrow passageway.

“Our mother wishes to speak with you.”

He gazed up at Griffin in surprise, wondering if he had done something wrong again. “What about the preparations?”

“She has chosen you for another task. Hurry. It is of great importance. She is waiting for you in the chapel.”

Olafur bowed and started down the passageway at a run. Important? That was yet to be seen. Dangerous? Almost certainly.

The Five Kingdoms period, now the stuff of legend and romance, hearkens back to a time when the continent of Ashan was embroiled in near constant warfare. Each kingdom fought relentlessly, if not for complete domination, then to at least hold dominion over their corner of the map. To understand the long and glorious period of peace brought to us by the Emperor, we must examine closely this period of chaos and death which nearly broke the very earth itself.

The Kingdom of Morena: A land of mostly humans, ruled by Queen Dorothea. The Queen was dedicated to wiping out evil across the entire continent and bringing peace to Ahsan.

The Tribes of Agni: Relegated to the Agni Mountains, the tribal nations were a confederacy of fierce, leather-skinned humanoids bent on destruction and domination. Although primal in their nature, the nations were led by the violent and cunning tribe of Kulakshaya. Individual groups included the Skads, Trolls and Tepas.

The Dark Priest of Skeldya: The possessor of dark magic unparalleled in all of Ahsan, the Dark Priest ruled for more than a millennium over a domain of dark, undying races, along with many unfortunate humans he had enslaved to his will. Some stories claim he was an evil deity come to life, others that he bound his essence to the Stone of Kamqk and achieved an immortality as lifeless and frightful as one of his captured souls.

The Giants of Ios: Dwelling in the the Ios Mountains, the giants were a nomadic people intent on ridding Ahsan of all their enemies. Although not ruled by one predominant monarch, they often banded together to join battle, and their chaotic nature made them unpredictable and powerful foes.

The Dragons: Isolated on the Orospu Islands and the Delta Swamp, the chromatic dragons and their followers, the serpentine races, sought to reclaim the hold over Ahsan they once maintained. Although small in number, even a handful of these fearsome yet intelligent monsters were capable of devastating an entire army when caught unprepared.

Dusty sat on the cold limestone, huddling against the night’s chill. Moonlight danced its way through branches and shadow into the mouth of the cave, accompanied by the screams and shouts of his fellow villagers. Even more alarming were the thunderous explosions of sound and light that he knew could only mean one thing: magic.

Dusty should be down there with his parents, helping, not holed up in his childhood hideout. But when the attack began, his father, a gruff farmer that brooked no dissent from his only son, ordered him out of the village.

“Don’t come back ‘til you’re sure its safe.”

Their farm was at the back of the village, against the small stream that this deep into autumn was mostly dry, and he was the first to turn up at the cave. The others will be here soon, he affirmed to himself.

He endeavored to stay calm, but his thoughts persisted in dwelling on the attack. Questions about who might be behind it, and why they would come to Moon’s Thresh vexed him with their inscrutability. The village was far from any borders. Had enemy troops penetrated so deeply within Morena, surely news would have traveled more swiftly then any army could.

The timing was curious as well, during the last day of the moon festival. He and Master Primwell had only been in the village a few days. They had heard no rumors of nearby troops, nor of bandits. Could the attack have something to do with the holiday?

The problem had no easy solution, and finally Dusty drove it from his mind. Perhaps Cal or Dish would have more information. Until then, brooding over unanswerable questions served no useful purpose.

He set his book of cantrips on the ground before him. Focusing his mind, Dusty pictured a glowing orb of light, while whispering the incantation. Soon, there was enough light to read by, but the concentrated nature of the energy meant that it would be all but invisible from outside the cave.

He began reviewing the pages, starting with the simplest spells. He ingrained the words into his mind. He had never before used magic under any more grievous circumstances than Master Primwell’s watchful gaze. He must be prepared to fight should the situation call for it.

His friends would arrive soon. But if they did not, he would be ready to go looking for them.

The moon had seemed extremely bright earlier that night, hanging outside Dish’s window as he tried to force himself asleep. Restless after the two-week long festival, Dish found slumber slow in coming, and the silver cascade streaming across his wall and up the length of his cot tortured him with the possibilities of adventure he and his friends were forgoing.

Now, as he hustled through one of Moon’s Thresh skinny alley ways that twisted through the houses and shops, he worried that in the dark shadows he would trip on a gutter or crash into one of the low hanging eaves that jutted out in seemingly random directions. He knew the backstreets better than most anyone, but he had never before raced through them with such a rush of anxiety.

The commotion had awoken Dish first, and he went to the window of the bedroom he shared with his father to discover the source. Initially, he hoped for some end of festival frivolity that he could join, but the strident shouts from so many voices, a few he recognized and others clad in strange accents, quickly warned him something was amiss in the village. A sudden boom of thunder, certainly not natural, woke his father with a start.

“What’s going on?” the old man asked, a trace of fear in his voice.

“I don’t know. It sounds like the village is being attacked. I’m going out to see what it is.”

“No you’re not,” his father countermanded, as he quickly hopped out of bed. Stay here. I’ll check to see what’s happening. Maybe someone secretly got hold of some lightning crackers.” He mumbled to himself, a common habit, as he pulled on his tunic and fumbled through his key rings. “I’ll be right back.”

“It didn’t sound like crackers.”

“Stay here,” his father repeated, as his head disappeared from view.

His father climbed down the ladder to their shop, and flicked a match for the lantern. Dish could hear him playing with the locks at the front door. Knowing his father, he was actually checking to make sure they were secure rather than opening them.

Whatever was happening, the tumult was growing louder. Not waiting for his father to return, Dish quickly dressed and grabbed his belt and knapsack. In less than a minute, he was propping open the window and climbing out onto the roof. The village of Moon’s Thresh, nestled tightly as it was against Thresh Mountain, fit a lot of homes into a small amount of space. Its compactness meant that Dish could travel the entire breadth of the village without setting foot on the ground, and tonight was not the first time he had crept along the rooftops.

Near the village gate, he could see one of the roofs had caught fire. The shouts were louder up here, and he thought he heard Cal’s father shouting commands, but the actual words were lost as they bounced through the narrow lanes and off the rooftops before reaching Dish’s perch. His first instinct was to run down and have a look, until he thought of his friends. They would be waiting at the cave. How many times over the years had they played at defending the village from midnight intruders?

He turned his back on the flames and scrambled over his roof and down into the narrow alley that ran behind the shops on Hill Street. First, he would find Cal and Dusty, and together they could come up with a plan.

Tonight, their games were turning real.