'When hunting a wolf in these woods, one must always bring an army.' That is the creed of the hunters who dwell in Volicheus's western lands. But what can one do, when trying to hunt a pack? A pack of vicious, bloodthirsty wolves at least four times the size of any creature to walk the forests or prowl the mountains. The answer is simple...you run. You run and you pray to every god there is to pray too and try to forget that you were ever there and perhaps even regret your own birth. You swear to give up your bow or your blade and perhaps even make an oath to never touch meat again as long as you live. And most importantly, you cling onto the desperate, slim hope that you are not hunted. Thankfully, there was not a single hunter forced into a situation like that on that day. They were far too intuitive to be so foolish as to walk into the woods that day. There are alway telltale signs to indicate the mood of the forest. When flowers are wilting and larks are quiet and rabbits are mee

As soon as the chariot passed...Alder ran as fast as he could. He didn't know where he was going, or even what he was really doing. He just ran to clear his head from the confusion that pestered him incessantly.Along the way he stumbled over stray stones and crashed into members of the now dissipating crowd which had gathered to see the chariot. His torn up, rugged shoes which he had worn for the past three years squeaked as he ran, barely clinging to Alder's feet."What is that little boy doing?""Could he be a thief? Morris, where is my wallet?""What an abnormal little brat.""This inconsiderate little..."Alder heard all of these things as he worked his way frantically through the mass of people who to him were...frankly insignificant. Despite hearing what they were saying and catching glimpses of their disgusted faces, Alder's mind was hardly processing any of it, he was too occupied on his own internal conflict to care about what they thought.After all, why should he devote an

"My mask?" Questioned Ardos. "You mean those odd animal disguises that I see everywhere around here?""Don't play dumb with me" snarled the voice. It had a feminine quality to it, so Ardos presumed that the individual threatening him was most likely a female."You're quite feisty aren't you? What's your name lass?""I'm not telling you you son of a..." The girl paused, grappling to regain her composure. "This is not a conversation, this is not a casual discussion. I am demanding that you give me your mask.""How boring. But fine...let me tell you now, I don't have a mask. I just came to this city, so you'll gain nothing from me."The girl sighed impatiently, before suddenly prodding the knife at Ardos's side even deeper."You're not fooling me. I know you're one of those wealthy shits, even though you wear that stupid cloak of yours. And I know you're not some foreigner...so where is your mask?""First of all girl" Ardos said, pretending to be offended. "I am a noble, not a 'wealthy s

Every time Aurelia had stolen a life, she'd looked at herself in the mirror. She expected herself to turn into a monster, for the blood on her hands to soak her entire body and transform her into some demonic, malformed creature unrecognizable as a former human. But every time she looked, all she saw was a girl. A regular girl, with dark skin and black hair with frosted white tips. A regular girl whose hands shook constantly when she was afraid, who was only fourteen years old.A sister, a daughter, a child, that was what she saw and this sight was what saved her. But so was her code. Her promise to never take a life unless she was ordered to had been her salvation. Like a thread allowing her to hold hope for herself, that maybe she could be more than an assassin or a thief. That maybe she could be accepted for her skin tone and eye color and all the features which she was forced to hide, and which differentiated her from those up top.It was these characteristics, which drove her to

Elesett Álmodozó was a knight. He was a man of average height, with dark skin and almond shaped eyes. His irises were onyx black, his hair was curly and his face was dotted with freckles. What was most impressive about him, was his musculature. He had a sculpted body with glistening abdominals, pulsing triceps, and a sturdy back. However despite how physicall imposing he was, he made for a rather poor fighter.He was hesitant to swing a sword and in single combat was quite ineffective. There was a running joke amongst his squad that he was the perfect of example of why to not judge a book by it's cover. Their latest task, had only solidified the truth behind that notion.Before them, lay a sub-human of the Dalkyvith kind. The creature ran a small pub and was quite well liked despite his appearance. He had a bloated belly and stubby legs meaning he couldn't move very well. He was six times the width and three times the height of an average human after all. His skin was red and warty li