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Cracked it: Baldwin’s Travels Part 1 of the Second Tale

Baldwin did not really understand. There was more than enough time for Shakeel and him to sojourn for some firewood before nightfall. The autumn wind was a conduit for their purposes because of their pursuors: Shakairi.

Why are we here?

Shakeel: We have to keep moving if we want to make it out alive.

“Blast those dead heads! They must have meant to cut our meeting short from the beginning.”

Shakyree were an eerie group of nomadic clerics who specialized in death, which Baldwin found ironic. His observation of the strange tribe of zealots, yielded little by which he could distinguish them. The clerics wrapped themselves up in multicolored patchwork reels of old and dusty cloth, gathered from across the lands from successful missions. There was a fashion of it’s own in the spool of rags they wore; It was an interesting mix of elegance and a revoltingly, grimy smell.

“It makes you wonder what they wore before they started ritual hunts,” said Baldwin as he adjusted his own hodgepodge of cloak that bore several repairs.
Shakeel laughed over his shoulder while he lead Baldwin up a slippery, mud path, moistened by last night’s rainstorm.

Either way Baldwin and Shakeel really didn’t have time for talking about how hungry they were and what they would eat if they had their choice of food. The sun had since displayed a beautiful orange and pink array and then set and they had made across what looked to be remnants of an old wall. Shakeel’s long staff trudged to the beat of Baldwin’s own stick as they traipsed through the crunching leaves about their boots of stretched and warped leather. Baldwin’s face was a proud oval topped with a black mane that sprouted across his scalp like that of a horse’s mane that started up at the top of his head and then fell down to cover his ears and somehow managed to leave his entire face visible. It was just something that Baldwin had lucked out on, he supposed.

Shakeel had also long hair. A great portion of the young man’s face in a giant crescent. The two travelers had a ragtag mishmash of blue and brown and black clothes that swung about them and bounced with their movements as they climbed, walked, and strode across the rocky terrain.

“fascinating how annoying inanimate objects can be.” said Shakeel sarcastically with a bit of a wry look on his face. He complained like this often but it was never really an annoyance itself because of how close the two were. The ridiculous heap of purple that Balwin now looked over at and found two blue eyes and a slightly smiling pair of lips was enough to make Baldwin know that it was all just in good fun for Shakeel to have found something talk about and Baldwin was glad for the diversion.

“Come on now, it’s just like you to come up with something as dreery as a rock to talk about,

Which shakairi spelling is better?



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Chapter One

In the cave, with a coarse canopy of stone which seemed to have been pierced by occasional beams of light from high up, there was the resonating sound of water plunking slowly. It was making an eyrie indication that several shacks from nearly any village in Teracid would fit neatly inside. The shadows carpeting the cold floor like snakes writhing in contrast to the dancing light that dove through the ceiling and as it crested the choppy water, lighting things with webbed, spiney, flippers and long tail with quills, it bounced a man sitting cross legged atop a boulder. Pungent air became thinner as it neared him. He stirred from the rock which was in the middle of the cave’s wide lake and stared at it. It was a good place for him to focus when there was too much stress.

Reaching into the folds of his robes, Grajak drew from within, barbed tips of metal formed from by melding twisting tips from an old metal gate into a three pronged throwing device. A weary smile played across his face at the memories from forming his grude-jhar, his totem of focusing his Aether magic, when it had been created. There had been lots of blood. To me, thought Grajak, it is sad and slightly disturbing, watching another submit to my will…

The man slowly rolled his head a few times, left then right. He then stretched back with his arms up that followed the line of his back. The man breathed in deeply through his nose and closed his eyes in deep thoughtfulness as if he were viewing something warm and comforting dream of paradise. The man regretfully coaxed himelf out of the dream and spoke. “I have a task for you.” The words echoed I very briefly till the soft sounds of the that brought itself to the underground lake and then joined it, was the only sound he heard. When nothing happened the man didn’t look worried, actually he smiled from under the large dripping , black coat he was wearing, which billowed around his bones in great plumes, he smiled a bright smile under all of this and reached toward the inside of the left of the black, eternal night inside his cloak’s breast side area. A scream emerged into the room as the sound appeared from nowhere and suddenly exploded in the large cavern that had only the whispering of the river for company. It was a scream so hideously tortured that even the most hardened men, criminals, military gents, even these would have cried in shock at this sound and would later wake from nightmares by this sound forever trapped in their memory. There before the now standing man, whose bright white grin flashed like the moon on the night of a ghost story and who had worn his garb so that it exposed some of his chest to the grimy and tepid air of the cave The mouth of the cave was just off to his side and the moonlight gleamed down giving the entrance of the cave a silvery lining which framed the man and the new arrival’s otherwise shaded forms. The newcomer was lying prostrate on the ground before the man in black and was opening it’s mouth and into a pitiful look of agony, panting for breath.

“Chou’Ghoul,’ the man raised his brows in sur as if he was only acting surprised. “How splendid of you to come visit.” The man had a way of inhaling that seemed like he was trying to draw more than just breathe with every flare of his nostrils. “Chou’Ghoul,” continued the man with eyes that were reflected pricks of light against deep black pits from the far off shafts,” we must work on your punctuality. It seems that we must address it before we begin tonight. The creature, which was a quick looking thing, was larger than most men and more muscular but was scarred badly on it’s back with sickly dark red and purple bruises shining on a shoulder blade and then lower down an even darker brown scab had just managed to cover the wet blood underneath. It was these two spots on the creature’s body that the lowly Chou’Ghoul lacked, indeed, a dazzling, pearlescent blue-white fur. Yes, there was something in his eyes as well that seemed to lack somehow something it had once had. Large biceps and a strong back and chest were it’s most notable features. This fine specimen, however, did not look it’s master in the eye but took to staring at dirt as it knelt there, panting before him. It wasn’t evil by nature, but looking past its augmented features it looked otherwise human in places. made no sign of hearing him and had stopped panting but rather was staring at the ground as it propped itself up just in time to be blessed with whatever foul measures were making him scream louder than anything should have to. The blue that danced on the creature was not blue light from the night sky but was in fact a sort of shimmering presence of unknown properties that danced around him and his grayish fur. Impatient for the creature to end it’s apparently disconcerting moans and sobs, which were many and frequent, the man cut him off a. “ “Ah, where were we?” Oh yes. I need you to do a favor for me. It’s that time again.”

The newcomer’s eyes were wide suddenly, and not with pain, which seemed to be his most frequent emotion.

“Master the last chosen one was ill suited for you measures. How can we know his abilities will be what you require?” The voice trickled like a gravel rolling on the bed of a stream.

I know,” said Lord Grajak, wrapping his cape around himself ” because I once was an acquaintance of his family.” While his lord wandered off into the cave Chou’Ghoul caught a light chill and felt the wind ruffle his fur He sniffed deep of the mountain air. Raising himself up onto his legs the creature exited into the cold weather that he had been protected by the home of the cave his master and he had refuged in.

Amoura was queen of the kingdom of Druffen. She was a queen who cared about justice and truth. She had married a prince of the Norwood Castle near the Falls of Argid. The castle was built on foothills of a mountain and waterfall, spread miles wide, provided a backdrop. It was an ocean waterfall that started That had not been altered win the great lands Shara and Galagos Collided to form Teracid, Their great land. Her Husband was a descendant of the great king who had eradicated Shakairi forces and stopped them from invading. They had been rather recently “imported” to the wood now designated as “The Shakairi Forest.”

As the Shakairi wars was reaching a climax her husband, King Atterax, had cut through the fleeing horde of natives on their flank so that they were caught off guard and were able to greatly damage the lead train of

Lords of their newly given land, a minute, scuff of land and just enough supplies to feed their starving families, they did not bother them in full force after such humiliation. People often thought of this as giving the Shakairi their just desserts because Land was what they were after in the first place.

Shakairi were little more than nuisances to the Goengian’s task of maintaining a working government and society. Whenever there was an opportunity the Shakairi unfairly took it upon themselves that they were the chastisement of the “mother”, a deity they fought for in the name of preserving their land and driving the queen and her people out of their territory. Things had been like this for centuries and essentially hadn’t changed much since.

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