Hammer and the Sword, Prologue

I'd like to wish everyone a happy Grebthar's day, and Christmas too for that matter.  Make sure your badger traps are carefully laid out and keep your fridge under observation.  Any missing food can always be attributed to Badgelor this evening.  

This is the Prologue to Hammer and the Sword, it will be a short novel that focused on how the Kingdom of the North and South and the lead up to the War of Annihilation.  Before anyone asks, it starts shortly before book 7, but will bounce back around 20 years to tell the story of how they got to this point.  I'll be releasing a chapter every OTHER week, with the between week being a short story about a Noobtown character.  I've been reading everyone suggestions and will just pick one of those, depending on my mood that week.  

Note: I don't really do serials, so this will be interesting for everyone.  I typically am a revision author, meaning I go back through my stuff many many times before it is completed.  If you see a chapter get reposted, it means I saw something significant enough to merit addition for some reason.  

Without further ado, the Prologue.  

Prologue

Sheblin clutched her dagger in her intact hand and hoped that she’d hidden well enough.  The monster was coming, and she didn’t have a prayer of defeating him.  All she could hear now was the burning.  All the animals fled.  She was alone, and her only hope was that she was overlooked.

Strange that was how it was all going to end.  The one time she wanted to be ignored, and the monster was going to find her.

“Princess Sheblin,” called the voice in a mocking, sing-song.  Even with all of her class levels, the only reason she didn’t lose control over her bladder was that she was empty.

She should have stayed, buried her friend.  She shouldn’t have followed, but she had to.  She had to believe that she could make a difference.  She was the master of spies for the Southern Kingdom, and her plan should have worked.

No plan survives contact with the enemy.

Grebthar’s words burned into her.  What would he think?  How disappointed would he be to know what had happened this day?  Sheblin was happy that at least when she died, her soul would be purified so the taint of failure would be washed away.

It was getting brighter, and she was going to die.

There was nothing to be done for it, she realized.  Staying here was just going to get her killed like a commoner.  She was a Chosen, and she had to die on her feet or Grebthar would be disappointed.

Sheblin chuckled at that, she never was very religious but now in her last moments Grebthar’s words came to her comfortingly.  Deep down she wished she’d died quietly in her sleep like grandpa rather than getting torn apathy by monsters like grandma.

Couldn’t be helped.

The light was giving the monster’s location away, so she flung away 4 daggers before spending stamina and rocketing all of them straight towards the light.  Then she used Quick Jump to launch herself out from behind the tree.

Before it exploded.

She spotted the monster.  That’s what he was now, a monster.  His head was surrounded by a glowing crown of lighting and the hammer slammed back into his palm before she’d even prepared for a second attack.

Sheblin was in the trees now, she threw six more daggers in rapid succession but each one bounced off the alabaster plate without leaving a scratch.  Then the hammer flashed towards her, and she tried to dodge.

Somehow, she was successful and the hammer’s glowing electric surface ran past her close enough to melt her cheek.  It was only then she realized the hammer wasn’t aimed at her and the tree she was going to use for a landing spot exploded peppering her with splinters.

Sheblin landed hard, a log slamming on top of her and bearing her into the dirt.  For a brief moment she thought she’d died, but that hope was in vain.  The blinding light was closer now, and it wasn’t a way out.

“You little thief, where is your cousin,” asked HarCharles, the Monster.  A corona of lighting filled the air as the hammer bearer stared down at his broken prey.

“He moved to Filly, he’s going to attack there to draw you away,” she screamed as the large man stepped on her wrist.

“We both know that’s not true,” said HarCharles.  “Little One.”

What should she do?  She knew what he wanted, knew that she couldn’t let him have it.  Her King was so badly wounded, he needed time to recover.  Then she thought of the Princess and knew.

Her hand moved to the hidden dagger at her waist so quickly that even HarCharles didn’t have time to react and she aimed it true.  Right at her heart.

The point skittered off, as the King of the Northern Wilds smiled down at her like a dragon about to eat its prey.  He pressed down on her wrist harder, and harder still.  “Did you really think that was going to work? You only get to die when I want you to.  Now scream for me.  Scream so loud my old friend will hear you.”

Sheblin tried to be quiet, tried to die with some dignity, but she felt her wrist crack and she screamed.

For a bare instant, she saw something strange in the Monster’s eyes.  Confusion? Disgust?  At her weakness?  Then the trees fell away and the monster staggered backwards holding his belly.  The log pinning her down split as well, and Sheblin jumped free, landing near her king as all the nearby trees split nearly parallel to the ground and began to fall.

“You were supposed to be more wounded than that,” said HarCharles, swinging the hammer up and shattering an old growth tree before it landed on him.

“Reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated,” said TimSimons.  His alabaster armor was dented, and the helmet was missing, but the king stood defiant.

“All the better,” said HarCharles, advancing towards his old friend.  “You know, I’ve never forgiven you.”

“She was mine first!” spat her king, rose petals started flowing around him as he advanced towards HarCharles.  Everyone was dead or broken, and it was all over that damn woman.