The world of Tackerin is a place riddled with disease and decay. The people have no honor; no chivalry. The world is crowded with inhumane creatures and the only noble ones left have either left, died or they are being killed. Who would have thought that, though the people of Tackerin didn't want Lord Grasurag to become king, by his tenth year not only was everyone on his side, but everyone saw him as an exemplify, an epitomy of what someone should be like; worshipping him and acting just like his destructive behavior. There's hardly any humans left in the kingdoms army and if there are, they're mainly guards or the best of the best human fighters. This kingdoms "heavenly army" is made out of goblins and orcs and all sorts of vile creatures.

Walking through the forest, Thayn spotted a little cottage on the outskirts of a tiny village, no bigger than a shire. Low on food and supplies, Thayn decided to take the day in the village, go to an inn, and continue his journey the following morning. The mid-twenty-aged man was riddled with scars all over his arms and legs from the battles of the past.

While walking to the village, Thayn could already hear the welcoming, soothing sounds of crowds that he will soon be in contact with. It felt like forever since he had been in his hometown, and sadly it would be forever until he receives the gift of happiness once again. Just as he was about to start thinking about all the people that he used to live with, Thayn realized that he had already gotten to the village.

Though the village was very small, there were still enough people there to become a hindrance for him walking in the streets. Every now and then he would hear a whisper, "Did you hear, another dragon has been slain," or "There was another Elf spotted in the northern mountains," as well as "I heard that there was a village pillaged recently, probably a base for the rebels." At this, Thayn's blood started to boil. He had seen the truth through the king's lies, and he was determined to make Lord Grasurag answer for all of his crimes.

As the sun had started to set, Thayn saw a tavern and decided to slip in for an evening drink As he walked in, he noticed that the people in their were of a sort of uncommon variety. There was a man with a sword and armor that he loved to show off; the sign of a knight in the army. There was a small man with a hood and several daggers around his belt, all coming together on either side of a pouch that hung right in the middle of the belt – an obvious thief. The bartenders and waiters/waitresses looked normal enough, but the men standing on either sides of the room left a suspicious feeling that mercenaries like the money that the bar gave them to keep order. There were various other types of plebeians, such as a merchant, some slaves, and two men that were hunched over in front of an archway with curtains from ceiling to floor. This gave Thayn the feeling of greeter's to certain "mannerless guests" namely orcs. After getting seated with his back to a corner and a window to his right, he was satisfied that he could relax enough to enjoy his drink.

"Hello there sir, how's it going?" said the waitress.

"Could be better could be worse. I've been hearing some disturbing news about the kingdoms latest actions and was wondering what your take on all this nonsense is." Thayn needed to find out where this town stood on Lord Grasurag.

"Why I think it's a wonderful thing what they've done, and that city got what was coming to them for housing such disgusting rebels. I don't see how they could have lived with themselves for doing such a thing. I'm very proud to say that I'm a loyalist to the kingdom and would house even the worst of creature in the Tackerin's army. Now what can I get you to drink sir?"

"I'll have a tucrender," said Thayn emphatically. Thinking about the bitterness of the drink, and yet the unrivaled aftertaste of the drink made his mouth water.

"Coming right up." The waitress left Thayn at his table, which gave him time to gather his thoughts. He should have known that with a village so close to the kingdom, they would adore him and never question him. At least this way, he could find out some things need that he needed to know.

"Here you go, enjoy, and if there's anything else you need feel free to let me know, k." The waitress had a very happy smile on, one such as the kind Thayn hadn't seen in a good while.

"Thanks, I'm fine." As the waitress walked away, and Thayn started to drink his beverage in front of him, he came to realize a robed man, or even woman, that he failed to notice as he came in. Why they were dressed like that he knew not, but from a distance of 3 tables over she was, he could make out no physical features on the face due to a hood covering the face in shadows. They seemed to be mid-height, a little smaller than his 6'0 self, and, though not in eyesight, the indentions in the robe that the person had made it unmistakable to have several weapons hidden. Just as he was getting to think about the different scenarios in which this person feels the need to live in secret tonight, a young man got up on the stage and interrupted his thoughts.

"Hello there everybody, and what a good evening it is tonight." The young man announced. Most of the cheering came from the ones that have been there for a while.

"Yea Martyr, give us a story," and then another man shouted, "Yea, no other bards can tell story's like you can. Come on." All the sudden, almost everybody in the tavern stood up and cheered.

"Ok, ok, if I must. You're all in luck too, because I have a story that I rarely get to tell." The bard cleared his throat and began his story.

"Long ago, there was a prosperous kingdom in which there was no sadness or corruption. This kingdom was the kingdom of Tackerin. The king in this great era was called King Azoun The Worshipped. This named was not self-conceived, but given to him by the people for his courage and strength that brought all the battles to an end. He was the wisest of the sages, the bravest of the fighters, and most honest of all the people in the kingdom; thus the reason why people began to view King Azoun as a god and worshipped him. But instead of going on a power trip, he was extremely moved and vowed to keep the land in the paradise-like atmosphere that it had just recently been introduced to. Now there was a tribe, just outside the kingdom, that had always hated the King and had even tried to kill him before he exiled them. This tribe was ruled by the tyrannical: Lord Grasurag. Knowing that with the Kings allies of the Dwarves, Elves, and mythical creatures that he was outnumbered, outmatched, and completely at a disadvantage. Over the years he gathered forces and allied with the trolls, ogres, goblins, and orcs, and had them all prepare for the day of inevitable loss. Lord Grasurag planned and prepared, looking at every conceivable crack or flaw in his plan for victory until it was perfect.

Finally, knowing the kind of person that the King was, he sent one of the women in his tribes to the kingdom to ask for help. When the king heard about how, "The people of her tribe had all been annihilated except for Lord Grasurag, and that their next territory to conquer would be Tackerin, the King immediately went to intercept the new threat. The King decided that he would take his entire army, and that the elves would stay in the capitol, Telemain, just incase of an attack. Once out, the woman Lord Grasurag sent took them to the site of the tragedy. That day it had been raining, but by the time they got to the site of the battle, the rain was so strong it felt like stones hitting them, and the clouds were so dark it felt like night. Today we believe it to be a tragedy as well, but not for the so-called annihilation of the tribe, but for the ambush that occurred. Oh if goblins had any scrape of chivalry they would have done so, but before the army knew what was happening, arrows rained down on them from above, and the first one to get hit was the great King himself.

The battle began, but the army was so busy with the hordes of demons coming at them, not one was able to get to the king, during which the king was crawling on the ground from the wound in the middle of the chest. The King finally went to his back and looked up at the sky, rain trickling down his face. Just then a man stood over the King with a smile so big on his face you'd think that he just found all the gold in the world. There were only three words exchanged between the King and Lord Grasurag. Lord Grasurag looked down at the King, sword raised and pointed straight down at the throat of the King and said, "Chivalry dies today," and with that, the sword was rammed through his throat, and the great King Azoun The Worshipped was no more. After that, the morale of the soldiers was so far lost that it took less than an hour to finish the last of them.

Lord Grasurag went back to the capitol and told the horrid news. The decision was made for the people to decide who the next king would be, in which the victory would be announced in a fortnight. Lord Grasurag sent the few human men he had in his army all across the kingdom, spreading rumors such as "Lord Grasurag was with the King to the bitter end and even was told by the King that he should be the new king," or other rumors mocking and degrading the other possible new kings. The villages that still felt that the Lord was evil would mysteriously ended up burned, or pillaged, or everyone would just up and vanish. Was the fortnight came, either by intimidation or belief in rumors, nearly everyone voted for Lord Grasurag. Thus was the beginning of hell, and the end of heavenly paradise. And thus ends the story."

There was silence for several minutes till finally someone said, "Hey Martyr, nice story. How long did it take you to cook up?" Then another one said, "Yea really, you can't expect us to believe it, you're no older than twelve by the looks of you. You couldn't possible know that."

The bard said nothing in response but merely walked off the stage and into weaved through the tables going towards the door. Intrigued, Thayn grabbed him by the arm as he walked by his table.

"Might I buy a drink, I would like to talk to you."

"Thank you kind sir, but if you're going to yell at me or tell me how fictional that story of mine was then I'm not interested." Martyr smiled politely and began to walk away when he realized that Thayn still hadn't let go of his hand.

"I think you have the wrong impression of me. I'm not interested in calling you a liar, but I'm interested in what other facts you know fore it would appear that you and I share a common interest, or hatred."

The bard stood there for a moment, scrutinizing Thayn and deciphering what he had said and then finally nodded and sat down in the seat in front of Thayn. Thayn waved the waitress over and order a bottle of Tucrender for the bard.

"So, I was wondering where you found out your information. Though you do look young, I believe that in this case, looks can be deceiving." Thayn made sure to imply certain knowledge of his new friend.

"And so it is true, fore I'm no bigger than 4'5" and I'm nearing my twenty-seventh summer. What about yourself though? From the look of all those scars it looks like you've been in many battles." Martyr said, making sure to put some implications in there as well.

"I'm afraid that I have deceived you, though I have been in some battles, most of these scars come from the same days. My name is Thayn, and yours would be..."

"I'm Martyr, nice to…"

Just then the door to the tavern came crashing down and 20 soldiers came running in. Most of them were humans, but there were a couple that were obviously goblins, fore two teeth on there bottom row are always on the outside, since the size does not allow them access within in the mouth. Just then, Thayn noticed one of the larger human soldiers walking over to that hooded figure that he had noticed earlier.

"Alright you filthy vermin, you'll be coming with us now!"