Dungeons & Dragons

Fables of a Hero

Disclaimer: I do not own Dungeons & Dragons or any affiliate but i DO own all of the characters in this fanfiction as well as the world...

Warning: this story contains Descriptive Blood and Gore, Sexual References, Strong Language, Violence and use of Alcohol and Tobacco

Summary: the world of calidonia has been on the verge of civil war for a decade. it is a newly formed world with an even newer formed government. all races sit uneasy about the other feel and expressing prejudices towards one another, but now that the Human, Elvish and Dwarven Emmbassies in the Port of New have been attacked, talk of war is all but inevidable. but the council of Mages have reason to beleive that the attacks are from another source. so they call a meeting consisting Representitives of the races of Humans, Dwarves and Elves. each one hand picked by their own race. they are sent on a mission to the Thousand Islands to Reveal the truth that threatens to engulf the world of Caledonia in a devistating war that could ultimately destroy life as it is. all the while the armies of the known races are gathering weapons and provistions, ultimately preparing for war should the small team of heroes fail to come back the the night of the new moon.

Prologue:

The blood was gushing from his eye, he felt nothing. He had cuts and gashes all over his body but his woman, the only woman who had ever cared about him lay on the altar. An altar of pure malice and destruction, of sacrifice.

She was so beautiful in her sleep the way she would breath and smile at him when she woke up, laying there together just looking at each other staring into each others eyes, knowing what the other was thinking with out saying a word, laying under the stars and the moon, in the cold, keeping her warm with the warmth of his body. He remembered the softness and silkiness of her skin against his, the sweet taste of her kiss, but now nothing she was gone, soaked in her own blood, cut at the throat, just lying there, lifeless on the altar. There was so much he wanted to say but soon he found himself surrounded by orcs and ogres. He knelt down to kiss her forehead and stood up. Fire, hate and pure destruction in his eyes, there were no words in any known language for what he was feeling. He unsheathed his swords he had strapped on his back and stared strait in the eyes of the leader, an ugly gruesome looking ogre. The ogre knew this would be a tough fight even with the odds on their side. It was 130 to 1 easy, even with that you could see the fear in the faces of the ogres and orcs and this lone hero, a man looking for a reason to die, rushed in to kill as many of those bastards as he could. He let his anger and hate take him and in that moment he knew, he was already dead…

Two Weeks Earlier

He had a well earned payload from his mission in the unexplored territories. There was a disturbance in the order of balance; orcs had patrols everywhere in the Dwarven and Human territories. Aarathane expected more from the general but was not complaining about his pay. He had earned a good bit of gold that day, of course he had spent several days in the unknown regions fighting and slaughtering the orcs, ogres too. But the captain of the 2nd Infantry division had planned to take a break and actually get some rest in a bed, eating real food, and so he did.

As Aarathane walked up the steep stair case into the tavern he noticed many uneasy men stealing glances at him as if they were up to something, but at this moment he could care less if they were burning the tavern down, just as long as he got to relax and have a few ales, he didn't care what kind of illegal activities they were participating in. he sat down near the front of the bar and ordered a tankard of the finest ale that this tavern could afford, which wasn't much but he had plenty of money to spend, over 1200 gold he had earned for his assignment in the orcish held territories.

The captain was a tall man, taller than most, his hair was short and stubbed as was his beard. He had gone unshaven for a week or so, so it was quite gruff. He was of darker complexion with dark brown eyes. He had more than a few battle scars but most women of his kind found that very attractive. His muscles were more than plentiful. He was not much older than 30 but no one really knew; he had forgotten his birthday and could care less. As far as he was concerned as long as he was still capable of fighting he was still young. And this was the case.

He finished his tankard quickly and ordered another one and another one and another one. Soon he was feeling the affects of the alcohol and decided he had had enough. He had to report to the general at the human garrison in port New Haven, and he would be damned if he was going to walk all the way there with a hangover. He decided to go and see what these suspicious men were doing. As he walked over they quickly stopped what they were doing and looked up in surprise and anxiety.

"Hello gentlemen what have we here?" Aarathane asked with a little slur in his language. "Umm…well… actually were just…your not going to bust us are you captain?" answered the more than nervous dealer. "Hell no, deal me in" the captain said with much enthusiasm of winning the jackpot, making up for what the general had cut him. The game was a game of chance, using a pair of dice, if you rolled more than the dealer you won. The bet max what 500 gold so Aarathane decided to go all out winning the first 3 rounds of the game making 1500 in 5 minutes. He had decided that he had enough for now and left the dealer virtually broke. The captain walked away that night with 2550 only spending 150 on the 7 drinks of ale. He had decided to make a pit stop at the sword and armor smith to buy some new equipment as his old equipment was worn. He walked in and talked to the weapon smith inquiring as to the fact if they had any longswords in. "as a matter of fact captain we do, here take a look, you wont be disappointed." The weapon smith told Aarathane. He looked through the swords and saw a pair of steel longswords sharp as a shard of glass, but they where to be wielded on the back and he was used to wearing them at his side but he decided to try them on. He strapped them crossing at his chest and they felt comfortable. He unsheathed them and found it was easier than he would have thought. He swung them around for a few moments to decide if the weight and balance was ok. In fact it was more then ok, it was magnificent. "How much do you charge for both of these?" the captain asked the merchant. "2500 but for you captain ill sell them to you for 2300 plus ill give you these pair of daggers. Their enchanted so they won't take much damage as quickly." Aarathane quickly replied with a yes and in turn sold his greatsword for a mere 300, of course he spent more than 5000 for it but he had gotten more than his money's worth out of them. With this he decided to get an early night and head out to the garrison around 8:00am he should arrive around 3:00pm if he made hast. He walked over to the motel and paid 20 gold to stay the night. He quickly walked upstairs, took off his armor and weapons and fell into the deepest darkest sleep imaginable…