Chapter One- A suprising visit of an old friend
Thirty Years Later
Arkanian Rue, the greatest and most vastly populated city in all the lands, it is here the story begins. Arkanian Rue, was indeed enormous, with many thousands of inhabitants living off of the very economy that feeds the rest of the world. If the world had a capital, this would be it. Quite different it was from other cities, yet most who came never wanted to leave, for it somehow felt like home. In the middle of this great city was a grand tree. This tree was not a normal tree by any standards, oh no. Besides it's slight resemblance to a great oak, this tree was truley unique. It was a thousand feet tall and hundreds of feet wide. It was the pride and joy of all Arkanians. Now this tree was home to many things, councils and great houses and all sorts of higher class thngs one would not find in any other city. It was indeed grand and the fellow citizens of Arkanian Rue fought to keep it that way
In the slums of Arkanian Rue lived the smartest, and smallest, of all librarians. But he was not just a librarian though, he used to be an alchemist in his much younger time, and this was just fine to his neighbors, who seemed to somehow get sick every winter. But nevertheless, Morrit the alchemist was a rare breed of species. His father was a dark elf, and his mother was half goblin and half dwarf, so that made Morrit a... well, being the few and rare occasions his kind did occur there wasn't an official name for them. Morrit dared to call himself a Smiflin, but wanted to put in the books that his kind was, (beside the slang word Smiflin,) a Kaytau. He was fond of his race. He looked very much like a goblin, but with dark, ebony skin,and his hands were a bit disproportionate to his body. Well, his hands and feet, actually, were larger than they should be, but not by much. Even his head was proportionate. He liked himself, though, and that's all that mattered to him.
Today, he was going to the great library in the center of the city to study the findings from his last exploration route. The only reason a petty begger like himself could get in the grand library was because he had worked there for seventy years, but by dark elf standards , he was young, and this growth upon age he inhertited from his father. He walked out his front door, locking it, and then turning around to meet the majority of the local kids staring at him, for they rarely caught a glance at him in open light. But today was a special occasion, Morrit had to get his studies ready for his presentation for the High Council tommorow, so it bothered him not.
He was trying to get his race recognized officially. He would then begin a book on them, and make a bit of money to get a decent house to live in. For now he was soley poor because he was, in fact, a minority, and he hoped to get that changed. He ignored the kids' cruel laughter and began his hour long march to the greatest library in all the lands.
An hour later, he arrived an the library, and he paused to take in all it's glory. It was truly marvelous, and Morrit hadn't been there in years. He then continued into the vast abyss that was the Arkanian Rue Library. He could remember the beautiful view of the great tree from atop one the library's four towers. But now, unfortunatley, he had to work. He began his search for the biggest book on his list first, "One thousand and one ways to sign a race officially." He also noted the subtitle on his little list, "...and a few illegal ones too." Morrit chuckled at the absurdity of the book's subtitle and knew the author was a goblin he grew fond of over the years. A famous author known as Kritt Arwik, the greedy. He rather liked the nickname the goblin had givin himself, for he too was greedy, but for much different reasons.
He found the book on the highest part of the library, where he had to use magic to levitate up to the top. Only the officials were alowed to reach the top, but Morrit had worked there once apon a time, so it mattered not. He soon found the rest of his books and began his research, writing down the very useful information.
Twelve hours later, he was finished with lot of them, and began his speech. Began, the key word. Being the small little creature he was, about four feet tall, not counting his big ears, he was rather tired from the walk to the vast library, and fell asleep in the middle of his speech to the head of the council. The library was open at all hours, so this did not matter...seemingly.
The next day, Morrit woke, and saw that he was due at the council in an hour, so he had to run! He began to leave, but realized one crucial error, his speech was not finished. His mind was busy with what he should do. He finally then came apon the conclusion that he'd improvise the last half, but he'd have to remember the information. He figured it better to improvise than to be late, so he began to run to the coucil halls, which he still might be late for.
He arrived at the front door to see a human wizard standing there asking to see the High Wizard council, his bird perched apon his shoulder. The guards simply denied him entry, but told him to wait, there was someone scheduled to arrive then. That was Morrit, he soon realized, as he stepped forward and pronounced himself. The guards looked down at the short little Keutau, and laughed. The wizard, however did not find this so funny.
"Greetings Morrit. Good to see you again after so long." said the wizard.
Morrit looked up to see his old friend, Torgul, standing there and his bird, Porgle, perched apon his shoulder.
The gaurds switched glances between Torgul and Morrit, and finally said, "You both may enter, but take turns with the council!"
Torgul shook his head."No sir, I shall go alone, this concerns a matter of great importance." The guard agreed, and Morrit went in first.
He approached the council, and bowed low. The elderly gentleman sitting in the middle of the seven finally said "You may speak, but remember now that you are late, so not as long as scheduled." Morrit nodded and began his speech.
When he finished, he stood hoping that he hadn't erred. The council sat for a breif moment, discussing the final answer to themselves, when the head wizard said finally, " Request denied."
Morrit hung his head low and began to walk away from the council. On his way out, he saw Torgul, still standing outside. "
I am truly sorry you did not come through to them old friend." he said.
With that, he put his hand on his shoulder, and began to walk into the council. Morrit decided to wait for his friend to return. He sat but fifteen minutes, when he heard the headmaster of the council scream "HERETIC!"
He then saw Torgul fleeing from the council chamber quite fast. The guards got in Torgul's way, but the old wizard released a fireball at them, and they fell, no longer breathing. Morrit tried to jump out of the way of the wizard, but Torgul grabbed him by the collar and they both fled the city. As they ran, they could see many guards in tow, and they began to run faster. They finally reached the city limits, and they stopped. Torgul took in a breath as he looked apon the glorious city for the last time, and went off again, Morrit now on his back. The guards had given up halfway through the chase. Torgul, Porgle and Morrit now walked away from their home, with no-one else, except for one friend who had died in an orc raid.
Torgul stopped, he had something important to say. "Morrit, about six months ago, did a man named Vorgus ever come to see you?" Morrit pondered for a second. "No, but I do remember someone saying a man named Vorgus was looking for me. But that was last week." Torgul looked confused. "And do you know this man?" Morrit shook his head. Torgul stood pondering for a moment, when he noticed a bird flying to him from afar. He glanced harder to get a better look, and saw it to be a messanger bird. The bird had swooped directly above Torgul's head, and he reached out an arm and grabbed hold of the decending letter. He read the letter silently for a moment, and Morrit watched, in great confusion. Torgul slowly raised his head and said, "We now have bounties on our heads... it is wise we stay away from Arkanian Rue." There was a pause of silence, then Morrit asked, "But for how long, old friend?" Torgul stood again, another moment and answered. "I am afraid we should stay away forever."