Dungeon Siege; The Legend of Aranna

Disclaimer: I don't own it. I can't even play it on a regular basis. If I could do you think I'd be writing this now?

Chapter One: Journey to Stonebridge

A long time ago, on the continent of Aranna, there was an Empire. It had twelve legions who, in a civil war, nearly all died off. But the most valiant of them all, the tenth legion, saved the kingdom. To stay alive, the remaining soldiers had to take up farming. After a few generations, the last of the remaining soldiers died off, and with them went the knowledge of a great evil. Few now remember the old ways, and fewer still remember the safeguards left to protect them. But no one could foretell that a humble farmer would change the course of history.

Nicholas looked out at the great expanse of field he had yet to plow. It was midday, and he was barely half way through. He sighed wearily as he contemplated how wrong the phrase "once begun is half done" was. Then again humble farmers were not made for contemplating anything but the change of season. Or so his uncle thought. At a bark from his dog, he was interrupted in his musings and looked over to determine the cause. His uncle Eldred was limping across the bridge crossing their minor stream with a worried look on his face.

"Nick! The Krug are attacking! I couldn't hold them back. Go to Stonebridge, seek Gyorn, and then..."

With a hacking cough Eldred sunk to the ground and collapsed forward, revealing a large arrow wound in his back. Nicholas ran forward, but he was too late, Eldred was dead. Stopping only to grab his bow and dull pitchfork, Nick vowed to avenge his uncle's death. Running through the fields, across the bridge, he spotted an errant Krug setting fire to their humble cabin. Enraged, he charged, his pitchfork aimed at the unfortunate Krug's throat. With a great lunge the dull pitchfork impaled the Krug. Nick hardly noticed as its foul blood soaked into his peasant shirt. He was too wrought with grief to care. But alas, he did not have time to wallow in it as two other Krug rapidly approached, having heard the death of their comrade.

After quickly dispatching them with a few well placed shots from his bow (for you see, dear reader, it is necessary for farmers to learn such things as archery in order to hunt in times of famine), Nick continued on with his quest. He would honor the dying wishes of his uncle if it was the last thing he did. Unfortunately, that outcome was nearer than any could have guessed.

After doing away with a few more Krug, Nastily Large Mosquitoes, and Evil Attacking Malicious Skrubbs (hereafter referred to as EAMS), he came upon his friend's Light Brown Wooden Log Cabin, as opposed to your standard Linking Log model. Upon entering the premises he was promptly attacked by a vicious white dog, who he was forced to kill. After burying its bones, he proceeded to enter his friend's cabin. Seeing his friend already in a state of distress, he opted not to tell him about the unfortunate demise of a most likely dearly beloved dog. The blasted beast was probably rabid anyways, and might have contaminated its owner. Edging towards the wall, Nick checked his friend over for signs of rabies just in case. Seeing none, he started to pay attention to what his friend was telling him.

"I'm not surprised you'd be cleaving your way to Stonebridge. When I found out the Krug were actually attacking, I took cover in my cellar, but they had already planned a surprise attack party. If you don't mind helping out an old friend, please clear out my cellar. You can have any supplies that are left. Goodbye, and good luck!"

It was with a nervous foreboding that Nick nodded and headed towards the cellar doors. Open air conflict was fine, but fighting unseen enemies in unfamiliar territory was a daunting prospect. Little did he know how much he would be doing just that in the coming days.

To be continued...