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The War in The North.


Despite Crypt saying these belong in Lore, I started here so I'll continue it here.

Bad things happen to good people. Bad people are rewarded with pleasure. Trouble always seems to find those who do not seek it. I’ve discovered this fact within the past three months. Why was I chosen for such a task? But who am I to complain? Maybe life won’t be so dull, this time.

I had finally made it to the snow biome that I’d been so excited to reach. I had no choice. I had to make a living here, whether the resources were abundant or not. I trudged through the snow as my teeth chattered and I shivered uncontrollably. White figures danced along the snow by the light of the torch I had taken out for some degree of warmth.

Once I’d made it about three fourths through a very dense forest I decided that this is where I would make my next house. This is where I thought I would be safe. I began punching down tree’s with my bare hands as my knuckles began to bleed. “I haven’t felt such trivial pain in quite a while” I thought to myself. After hours upon hours of grueling work, as I was at my very last ounce of energy, I had erected a log cabin.

I walked inside and immediately placed numerous torches to warm up my frozen bones. I had clothes, but they were no match for the below zero temperatures of this snow storm. I decided with the last of my strength to go out and hunt for food as best as I could. I walked outside and after hours of what seemed to be fruitless searching, there it was. Standing there, like a diamond in the rough. I was overjoyed as I set my eyes up on the chicken pecking the ground as I lunged forward and slaughtered it. (I’m sorry chicken, I needed the food.)

I took the two pieces of meat it dropped and walked back to my house where I dropped the furnace and crafting bench I had brought along with me on the ground. I plopped the coal in the furnace and began to cook the chicken. It was delicious! I felt strong again, strong enough to go out and scope the surroundings of the forest.
I took a few steps outside and the storm broke. I stood there and listened to sounds in the forest. I heard the pitter patter of animals far away and the chirping of birds high above in their nests. It’s what I didn’t hear that made me even happier. I didn’t hear the muffled footsteps of bandits in the distance. They must have given up. I had to have been deep enough in the forest that it would take weeks, maybe a month for them to completely scout it, as it was extremely vast. I began walking in the direction I had been while running from the bandits.

I soon discovered that I was closer to the other side of the forest than I thought. As I prepared to walk out of the forest I felt a cold blade press against my throat from behind. I laughed. “Well isn’t this a surprise.” I said expecting a bandit preparing to slit my throat. I was aghast when I wasn’t dead after five seconds.

“I’ve got you now, Drachen spy!” a deep, commanding voice shouted. I quickly responded with “No! I’m just a traveler in this forest!” “You really expect me to believe that?” the voice said. “Please, let me explain myself!” I shouted before he could kill me. Surprisingly the blade was removed from my neck and I was released from his grip, his sword still pointed at my back. I put my hands in the air and turned around to see a blond man with glasses and a thick mustache staring at me angrily. I sat down on a bench and began to talk. I told the man of the mine I had been in, and about the Gero desert. I told him about the Cult of Veran and the old woman and the ritual.

Needless to say the man was moved by my story enough to be convinced I wasn’t a “Drachen spy”. I asked the man who the Drachens were and he said this: “The Drachens are a moderately sized country to the North of us. We’ve been at war with them for as long as I can remember. Sometimes they come down to this forest to enter Cetor from the South. I’m a lieutenant in the Cetoran military, stationed here to stop any Drachens from entering Cetor.”

The man, after telling me his story directed me to the North. He was suggesting that I visit Cetor. I wasn’t opposed to the idea; it was a lot safer than living in the forest. I asked him to escort me back to my cabin where I could gather my things and head to Cetor. We walked back to find bandits at my cabin. How they’d found it eluded me but I sure was glad I had left when I did. The man pulled out a clearly, extremely strong sword and told me to stand my ground.

Luckily the insurgency of bandits was quite small so they were no problem for our combined skill. The bandits hadn’t taken much, so we grabbed it ran after we’d heard more approaching from the south. The man radioed command and once we’d burst through the trees there was a sizable firing squad waiting for us. The man shouted that I was with them and to hold their fire. We ran behind the firing squad and awaited the bandits to emerge through the trees.

The lot of them burst through and began to charge. Just as quickly the archers took aim and began to mow them down. The swordsmen ran forward and finished off the bandits. The leader of the firing squad scoffed at how easy the fight was and began to walk off. He yelled for the Liutenant to return to his post and ushered me to follow him.

The city was beautiful. A base of Nordic architectural styles mixed with numerous other styles lined the streets of the city. The man introduced himself as Major Smith. We continued walking the streets. My jaw hit the floor when we arrived in front of the Government Palace. The palace was a large rectangular building with two wings protruding from it. There were beautiful gardens in the lawn of the palace, with a large fountain in the middle. On top of the palace, most notably, two huge statues of what I assumed was the political leader of Cetor.

We walked up to the large doors of the palace, guarded by two Green uniformed men, rather than the blue and yellow uniforms that I had seen on the Major and Lieutenant. They allowed us passage into the palace.

People looked upon me with disgust. At first I was puzzled but then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My face was muddy; my hair was filled with sand and snow. My armor was scratched and dented and what was left of the shirt and pants that I was wearing before were torn and ratty.

The man led me into the throne room. Sitting upon the throne was a black haired man with an all Green uniform. Why was their leader wearing, what I assumed to be, a royal palace guards outfit? The man was introduced as Fuhrer Iron Wall.
Fuhrer Iron Wall was given his nickname after the success in the prevention of anyone with anything to do with Drach from entering the country. He was a fairly strong looking man with fiery eyes.

The Major bowed and said to the man “This is a man entering from the great forest to the South.” The Fuhrer lifted an eyebrow. “Is he a Drachen spy?” he responded. “No.” said the Major. He hails from a prairie even further south. He comes here requesting to live in Cetor, for he is being followed by a cult he encountered and then was harassed by.

Two weeks passed as a Cetoran squad went through the forest to confirm that my story was true. They found my house in shambles. It was burnt to the ground by bandits. They then continued south to find the gates to the Gero desert. They found the abandoned hospital that I had mentioned, and the large temple. After their return and confirmation of my legitimacy the Fuhrer confirmed my citizenship of Cetor.