Beyond of What We Know

Once upon a time, a continent unknown to most mortals in the world, save for a few, flourished in the center of the wide expanse of the planet. The continent, known as Lagria teems with a very wide and assorted array of flora and fauna.

Vast plains full of trees and various shrubberies give sweet fruits to those who desire it. Lakes, rivers, and bodies of water surround and dot the whole area, enabling aquatic resources to be in just a short reach for everyone that fancies bony fish. Mountains and hills create natural walls that split lands and serve as barriers to some perils of the uncharted areas. The sky is an alleviating shade of blue in the morning and a dreamy twinkle in the night.

A shortage of resources was then unheard of, for everyone and everything followed the all-encompassing golden rule of the land: to cultivate and enrich whatever resources the present currently possesses, and to provide adequate sustenance to the next generation. For decades and perhaps centuries (because all history in this land is mostly told and not writ), this endless repetition performed itself time and again.

Most of the population which consist in the continent are diverse, confusing, and interchangeable with the mortals living in it. And the term Faerie-folk was established by the humans to identify them from those who are not. Among the Faerie-folk are dwarves (who are the best blacksmiths around), fairies (not to be confused with Faerie-folk), elves (trusty pointed-eared spell casters who you do not want to get on the wrong side of), and the giants (who merely act as the gatekeepers to the entrances of the continent, watchers to everything else given their immense strength and sturdiness, serve as recorders for the land itself) to name a few. These peaceful creatures of Faerie Folk are known as the Fair Ones. And their opposites are the Ilken Faerie folk or just Ilken, who, as suggested are darker, more sinister, and destructive than the Fair Ones. They consist of Vampires, Werewolves, Shapeshifters, Banelings, and the Dark Ones; all of the listed are the only ones noted by the mortals inhabiting the continent. The humans resided in the upper most part of Lagria, known as Ygrin, wherein they have access to terrestial and aquatic resources. Long ago, the land owned by mortals was only a small part of the continent, but due to the conquests and fervor-filled attempts of King Sharda, the Powerbringer, seventy-second Lord on the Obsidian Castle, the humans slowly but surely gained influence among the lands surrounding their original abode, and soon, the territorial right to them. With his death, and crowning of the seventy-third King, the breadth of the human-controlled lands multiplied fifty-fold, and the Age of Flourishing came to Ygrin.


Many years had passed since the Age of Flourishing of the powerful Ygrin Peace is, by default, being experienced by every mortal and non-mortal inside it. Many Faerie-folk who trust, and have gained the trust of humans, decides to live inside in sturdy and unbreakable walls of Ygrin. Within, dwarves find themselves to be useful to soldiers and people who are engaging in hard labor or utility, they made friends mostly with the male population. They create durable armor for knights, who seek out the dangers and perils outside the wall. Dwarves rarely make swords, spears, and other fighting weaponry, for the potential of dwarven weapons is very powerful, but very tricky to use. Only those who have proven their worth and strength are capable and allowed to use the dwarven-forged weapons. Dwarves prefer to seclude themselves from the outside world when they are working in their smithing chambers, however they are very jolly fellows when encountered in the public, such as the local taverns. People who come to drink away their own worries and problems in the taverns, find themselves new and slightly shorter friends that will listen, cajole, and sing with them.

The Elves, on the other hand, are on better terms with the female population for the reason that they invented many different kinds of cooking implements and different household mechanization that ease the workload of wives who finds grime that is too stubborn to remove, or dust too tricky to dust off. But their selling point with wives and young women are their wide, assorted, and very specific range of beauty products. Potions in bottles that are said to remove wrinkles, bathing pebbles that are dropped into tubs and dissolved until the steamy water becomes pinkish, it is said that these restore the skin's tautness and smoothness. And finally hair dyes that enables people to change not only their previously hated hair color, but also their hair composition.

The fairies are the playmates of children from their babehood and in rare cases, to their adulthood. Since fairies are childish in nature, despite their intelligence and wisdom, most of them prefer to have the company of children who have not a single ounce of worry of the world and wonder about what food mother will cook tonight, or when the apples on the orchard will grow ripe. The fairies are mostly found in the playgrounds or nurseries as they have proved to be the most knowledgeable and proficient in child care, it is not unusual to see a household with young offspring to have fairies that reside in the child's bedroom. The older fairies, however, prefer the company of the elderly, where they seem to share the ideas, principles, and tales of old.


The governing system of Ygrin is both a lenient and a strict one, the King rules over the whole land with his elderly advisers (a mixed group of individuals of each race) who provides advice on trifling matters that of which the King may not handle on his own. There is also a small group inside the government which deals with matters of humans and non-humans; in short, this is a group of individuals who each represent his/her own race. Whenever each race, elven, human, dwarven, or fairen has a plight, the Conclave hears them out and filters the unnecessary from the ones of utmost importance. After the process of sifting is over, the chosen plights are then submitted to the office of the King where the King would make a decision to hear it out and act upon it. If it proves to be difficult to manage, the King asks the Advisors for help. With this system, the favorability of each race is meted out and is equal to everyone else.


Trouble brews for the days to come, however. A blight is felt by not only the magically inclined elves, the wise fairies, or the crafty dwarves, but also the persevering and cunning humans. Dusk carries certain eerie darkness to it, and dawn does not appear to be as pleasurable to witness as before. Everyone lives accordingly, but like the victim of murder who sees nothing but the glint of the cold and unfeeling knife that inches slowly to his throat, the people of Ygrin becomes more restless and anxious as each day passes.

Lord Rendall of Castle Ygrin is dire with uneasiness; he expects his life to expire in the next week, if he were lucky. But driven by his strong sense of duty, he cannot leave his beloved Ygrin and citizens behind while he transcends into the other unseen plane of existence.

It all started while he was out on his own private hunting trip, he encountered a mighty Twisttusk, a boar so rare that only old legends from the elders were the sole accounts of it. As he met with it in a small clearing, he ignored the cries of caution and broke the ranks of his own hunting group and chased the beast into the uncharted Mystical Woods of Moonlight. When he was finally able to corner the beast in a small cave, the Twisttusk sensing imminent danger, faced the surprised Lord and charged towards the exit, with Lord Rendall in its midst. The King barely dodged the beast's assault and was grazed in the process.

The Lord laid at the left side of the entrance, cursed his stupidity and his youth that was starting to leave him; fortunately, he was able to track the exit of the enchanted forest and rendezvous with his party. Seeing the Lord needed medical aid, the hunting party immediately covered his injury and carried the middle-aged Lord back to the Obsidian Keep.

Now there are only a few documentations about the Twisttusk. Not only is it a creature rarely seen, but also the injuries it inflicts are lethal, which leaves survivors a last merciful taste of life, before it devours them. The injuries a Twisttusk inflicts are very tricky to treat. Instead of covering the wound up, the victim must let the fresh wound be exposed to open air and become stagnant and filthy, as the only substance that removes the rare enchantment which covers the horns of a Twisttusk is the saliva of bloatflies and its maggots. If covered up, like a sensible healer would do, the substance will react to the darkness and slowly turns the flesh into stone, until the victim is a decoration no more than a marble statue. Lord Rendall decided not to consult the elders as he dismissed the wound as a mere graze.

Some time had passed until he noticed that his body started to grow sluggish and hard to move, his appetite is similar to that of a cat whose maesters feed it grass. But it was too late, the Lord knows by now that his existence as a person is going to halt, and he did the best he could to solve the problems of his domain. But his biggest problem is not that of the farmers who had strife with each other’s cultivating grounds, nor the problems of the hicspotch which afflicts everyone with an uncontrollable series of hiccups. No, his problem lies to the successor of the throne, but, as luck would have it, he only was able to raise two daughters in his household, both of which is very much unique and sometimes, a pain in the hind. He decides to take his remaining luck into a gamble, the result of which he will no longer witness.

Three days passed by uneventfully, with the maids dust-a-dusting away in the halls, and the gardeners clip-a-clipping away in the gardens, and the horses clop-a-clopping away in the stables when a soultwisting scream was heard in the maesters quarters. That morning, a maid knocked to the door of Lord Rendall to provide his daily bath and breakfast, the Lord, always punctual, did not reply as curtly as he does. When the maid could not wait anymore, she shamefully opened the door and found a magnificent marble statue in place of the ailing King’s bed, and screamed until her voice rattled the horses so badly that it gave the servant more equine waste to clean that day.

The trusted and revered Royal Adviser is currently vexed; his dearest friend and the Kingdom’s ruler had just passed away leaving everyone in a confused and disheartened state. And he, the Royal Adviser, is left to attend to the affairs of the state, choosing the next ruler included. Lar is not the ruling kind of person, he is merely one of the fellows who hang in the back and gives good advice when needed, and making the most crucial decisions is simply not for him. He sighs as he walks in the Royal Gardens in attempts of clearing his mind. What he does take pride in, is his ability to project and concoct intricate, plans, as that is what brought him to his position as the Royal Adviser.

“Old One help me.” is the only thing he can sigh while reluctantly devising his intricate and devious plan.

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Meanwhile in the city gates, a commotion is starting to take place. A lone traveler had just passed the city gates without authorization, and a Wall Guard, with all alertness, grasped the stranger’s shoulder to hold him back from crossing the passage. The poor guard, doing only his duty, is met with a speedy reversal and a quick sweep under the legs. As the cloaked stranger pinned the surprised officer, other Wall Guards advanced upon him demanding their comrade’s freedom and his objective.

“Stay back,” the stranger stated, talking as if fifteen fully armed Wall Guards will only meet pain if they do not comply “I merely wish to pass and get inside the city.”

“State your name, race, and reason mongrel.” growled the veteran Wall Guard, having the most experience with meeting potentially dangerous strangers passing the gates.

“I wish not to discuss my business with you, dog” said the stranger with no detectable emotion.

At this point is where someone would come and stop the fight, where he or she would feign companionship with the stranger for god knows what reason they have. But sometimes the stars align crookedly, the moon drops a bit lower, and the planets seem like shying away from earth resulting in someone being blessed with a very bad luck.

The veteran Wall Guard, apparently irked by the stranger’s response, commanded the others to charge and disable him. One guard with a spear aimed at the stranger’s legs, planning to throw him off balance. The stranger, with practiced precision and alacrity, hopped to avoid the spear and ducked a sword aiming for his head simultaneously. He lands at the spear’s shaft, thus locking the spearman in place while deftly disarming and knocking out the swordsman. He glances at his flank and spots three more guards rushing to him while holding up heavy shields in front of them. He immediately kicks the spearman into sleep, picks up the leftover weapon, and throws it above the charging men. A scaffold containing heavy sacks of cement came crushing down into the unwary soldiers.

Suddenly four barely audible soft explosions surrounded him, he braced his arms around his body by instinct but the explosions produced nothing more but smoke.

“Smoke bombs huh?” he thought while straining his eyes searching for his assailants around him. A kick collided with his exposed back which made him stumble forward while a shield bash comboed into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Even before he is able to catch his breath, a hand fitted with a caestus flitted across his face. Disoriented, he attempted to dodge it and was grazed on his left cheek.

“Where is your attitude now, mongrel?” shouted the familiar voice of the veteran guard.

“We the Wall Guards have fought in the fog over so many years now, something like this smoke is nothing to us To our trained eyes, you are just a sitting dog, waiting to be disciplined for his barking” the guard proclaimed while laughing heartily.

The stranger knows that he is at a great advantage, no matter how powerful you are, limiting yourself against humans is a bad choice. They are known to be as cunning as the Ilken but as brave as the most revered Fair Ones. What they lack in power, they make up in tactics and methods that are sure to surprise even the most war-experienced.

He sighs and starts to put his hands together as if grasping an invisible ball, closing his eyes, and starts muttering words unintelligible to human ears.

“What’s wrong mongrel? Have you accepted your fate already? You don’t seem to move anymore, are you scared now?” taunts the veteran guard.

The stranger’s muttering, which was almost close to silence, gradually starts to become more audible as every second passes. A few seconds after, something is swirling in the stranger’s hands. The guards, now realizing that the stranger is not praying to his gods, but is chanting to create magic, made their quick advance toward the stranger.

“Lor, erast, ytril-“ some of the noble guards charged to the stranger, while the cowardly ones ran for cover.

“yrmin, hevech, disyl-“ some six or so meters of distance is what separates the stranger towards the guards.

“quilach, asto, pavie-” the meters trickled to feet as desperate soldiers advance upon the stranger.

“zan, fuura, vitrie-“ the guard who was the fastest runner among them all is nearly upon the stranger, and is already starting to swing his sword, however-

“KYRIE!” the stranger finishes his incantation and a powerful blast of wind rises upon the ground around the stranger, the speedy guard’s sword, already in mid-swing, crashes into the swirling wall of wind and instantly breaks into hundreds of pieces.

“In the name of the Old One, what is that?” the veteran Wall Guard utters dumbfounded, all the while gaping into the magnificent display of Aetherean Magic. As both onlookers and guards scramble away in fear of destructive magic, the veteran Wall Guard also started to turn away, but then he spots something. A small flash of light briefly appeared in the middle of the vortex before the winds started to grow red instead of green. In a blink of an eye, the vortex imploded upon itself, releasing clouds of smoke among the panicking crowd.

As quickly as the explosion happened, so is how quick the smoke vanished. Guards who have not lost their sense of duty, quickly scanned the area for casualties, but none, or should they say, none of the onlookers are harmed in the slightest. However, there is one person in the middle of the blast with his face projecting a stupid look while his eyes roll around.

Nearby women, young and old screamed in a mixture of embarrassment and delight, kids covered their innocent young eyes, and men cringed as the whole naked body of the stranger is exposed to the public eye.

Lar was in his study room busy attending to the leftover papers and petitions by the deceased King, when a curt knock on the heavily set door of the room greeted him in that humid afternoon.
"Come in." he beckoned

"Excuse me your highness," said the soldier while entering politely

"I have come to report about the incident this early morning."

"Close the door behind you." the Royal Advisor ordered the soldier.

"Yes your majesty." said the soldier while he did what he was ordered to do.

"Very well, let me see the records." and the obedient one did as he was told.

Lar sped through the ten-page document presented to him, his trained eyes picking off only the relevant information as reports like this are only full of perfumed words intended to please the higher-ups. Lar however, dislike those unnecessary lines and paragraphs, he is after all, a straightforward man. Those kind of words merely takes up his precious time.

"Hmm, a magic user huh?" the Royal Advisor pondered aloud, talking to no on in particular.

"Tell me soldier," he faces the obedient one, "were you able to discern which race or country the stranger belongs to?"

"Not in the slightest bit your highness, no." the soldier admitted.

"Then what are your thoughts of him? To you, what does he look like?" Lar inquired

"Well, if it was me your highness, though I say this with the slightest bit of confidence, he looks very human to me."

"Interesting.." the Royal Advisor trailed off, delving deeper into his thoughts.

If the stranger was to be manipulated, he pondered, then it would bring about a high chance of success to his plan. However, he would have to make changes, very very drastic changes.

It had been an hour or so until the Royal Advisor had come to his senses and remembered the poor chap who was waiting for his dismissal. Lar sent the soldier off with a distracted wave of the hand while immersing himself in his thoughts once again.

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THE DUNGEONS
The dungeons is a very dreary place to be in such a fine day. A trainee soldier runs in its halls, filling the emptiness with the clattering of his cheap, army-issued armor.

"I see you made it back Ei." his senior welcomed him without turning his back as he was releasing liquid waste on to one of the walls.

The trainee sighed and sat down the nearest upturned bucket of water, evidently showing his exhaustion from standing motionlessly for an hour and running from the Royal Advisor's quarters to the Dungeons.

"You know what senior Bie, I haven't seen the Royal Advisor space out like what I saw today, it might be good and all but he freaking forgot to dismiss me! I have to wait for three hours until he realized I'm standing there! Is he always like that?" ranted the exasperated trainee.

"Calm down, young 'un, thats our Royal Advisor, and yes, he is like that. Sometimes he gets so caught up in his train of thought that he forgets his surroundings. There are many stories about him in that state, most of it are always told in the taverns while everyone laughs around." the senior calmed his junior

"Like what exactly?" Ei pressed further

"Well I do not remember very well, but there is this one time where the Royal Advisor was in his concentrated state like what you have witnessed, while he was heading out for the public baths. This was then when the King was very young and is still being trained for the his ascension of the throne." the senior started, apparenly enjoying telling tales

"He was so caught up in his thoughts that after stripping down to his most embarrassing state, he proceeded to the women's baths." Bie continued

"But thats not very funny, amusing yes, but funny enough to gain popularity in the stories of the local taverns, I don't think so." Ei complained.

"Yeah, its not even a laughing matter. Things like that are trivial, heck even I.." said a voice inside the room, but no one paid it any attention

Bie grinned with a glint of malice, as he knew that Ei's retort would come.

"Oh you think that's the whole story? You have a lot to go young 'un." he started

"The Royal Advisor did walk in to the women's bath, but little did he know, that when he sat in the pool, is that it was filled with women aged from their mid-years to their forties. Of course, young innocent ones would shriek with embarrassment and anger, but the company that the Royal Advisor met shrieked with delight. Of course, their shrieks woke him up from his stupor. And as the cherry boy he was at the time, he freaked out and ran away from the bathhouse. Rumor is that the whole town saw his raging boyhood that night" Bie continued solemnly.

A loud raucous laughter reverberated across the hollow halls of the dungeons.

"Well I certainly did not expect you to have a very good time with that story." Bie remarked as he looked back to his junior. However his junior was sitting tight-lipped, pale, and cowering in the corner.

"Whats wrong Ei, I thought you enjoyed the story, what are you doing there looking like you have seen a ghost?"

Ei merely didn't answer, but only kept on staring at the wall in horror. Bie finally couldn't stand the suspense and looked where Ei was staring.

"Well old man, what are you doing looking like you have seen a ghost? Come on now, tell me more about the stories of your Royal Advisor, he seems a very funny guy." A skeleton leisurely chatted towards them "By the way that is an awfully short you got there huh?"

The night was filled with two soldiers running around town screaming out their lungs about monsters and talking skeletons. Incindentally, the older of the two ran around with his pants down, occasionally stumbling. It is said that this incident overshadowed the Royal Advisor's ruckus.