Sharpstar and others looking for answers….

Doomonster?!” cried a puzzled Sharpstar. “By Morf it seems devils
make it a point to plague us.

“Why in Morf do get creatures of hell to battle, why?” pondered a
weary Sunick Gurl. “Well at least this will be another supreme killing for
my resume.”

“What kind of fiend is this?” asked Razorblade as the other knights
besides Sharpstar mumbled to themselves quietly. “Is is it of this
world?”

“As my warrior Luf` Enme told me, he and his men were touring
the outer areas of the village when they encountered the evil. Th e patrol
was only about four miles out and was ambushed by some creatures of
disdain descent. Warrior Luf` Enme was caught off balance as six of
his men were killed out of a party of fifteen by the sinister aggressors.
Unexpectedly, the Imp King glided through the air like a scavenger
lurking for his inert quarry. Th e creature then touched trees, rocks, any
substance he could find, and astonishingly what he touched became
horrid creations of life. Th e Imp King attacked with terrible energy and
murdered all but Enme and his second; Tetura. Th e demon’s creatures
grabbed and seized Tetura while Enme barely escaped with a missing
arm to show from the encounter.”

“Great, another fiend to kill,” notion Sunick Gurl to herself as his
eyes shrink and muscles tighten as if she was preparing for combat, a
trademark of an assassin.

The knights glared in dismay at the story which the good elder
painfully related while his eyes reddened in silent hopelessness. Dogsircore
burned with anger at the thought of the probable doom of Mela while an
unchecked evil roamed throughout the Earth. Sharpstar’s premature beliefs
of kismet were cut short as the Elder Chief resumed his story.

“Before Enme he escaped the trap he witnessed himself the power
of Doomonster; Tetura was transformed into another horrid creature.
He became what they called a low monster, surname Tet. Oh yes Sir
Sharpstar, these things are not goblins but something else.”

“Elder Chief, was this Doomonster the same creature who assaulted
our friends?” asked Sharpstar quickly.

“Yes. I warned both of the travelers of creatures roaming the area
but I didn’t get a chance to mention the whole story. It seems like the
woman…”

“Mela,” interrupted Sharpstar, anxious to learn more.

“Yes. In fairness she most likely wanted to return to her base hastily
to report about our meeting,” countered the elder chief.

“Well she is not much of a communal person,” replied Sunick Gurl
smiling in an attempt to lighten the mood but to no avail.

Elder Chief Paulsol leaned back in his high chair with gaze cast
downwards upon the glossy table as Colorcode thought to himself,
“This could certainly end us.”

“The Imp King does not live in what you call your reality.”
“What do you mean?” cried Colorcode.

“Explain please, Elder Chief,” remarked a curious Razorblade but
was certain his first assumption of another realm was in line with the
elder’s account.

“He dwells in another dimension.”

“What kind of sorcery is this?”asked Sharpstar.

“No sorcery, not even psigenic but the ancient ways of Will Have
Thoughts,” replied the elder chief. He uses forsaken arts as he moves
from one reality to another. I can’t explain it but I detect strange
happenings. One thing I do know is that sound is the key to his travels.
Th ere had been other accounts of his presence from others. Nearby
farmers and traders claimed that they were attack by a monsters and a
demon of great might. Th e monsters took orders from the demon and
when they left a sound like the earth herself was shaking would emote.
They then vanish without leaving a trace. Even their footprints, dead
monsters would disappear. Extraordinary , but true.”

“Yes Will Have Thoughts, the olden arts of discovery,” spoke
Sharpstar firmly.

“You are wise with that statement,” replied Elder Chief Paulsol.

“Sounds?” cried a puzzled Colorcode wanting to hear more of the
elder’s story.

“True. Th at is how he travels I believe. You won’t be able to fi nd
Doomonster unless you know the same sound he uses.” Th e other
knights stared in frustration, pondering the dilemma of fi nding the
elusive hell progeny.”

“However,” went on the elder chief. “Th ere is a way of traveling in
this manner without the study of the ancient Soro arts, using an item
called the Talisman of Timbuktu. Th is article enables its possessor to
journey to and fro within different dimensions. Th is primordial item
was made by the Molock Wizards themselves before Sir Cedric of Po
and the Knights of the Light Seekers obtained it. Th at was the downfall
of the Molock Wizards because of their frequent use of mental travels.
Sir Cedric of Po split the talisman into two pieces and hid them in
two locations across 4th Lebos. Now, what I am about to tell you must
not be spoke of outside of this room. Th is is secret knowledge of the
Knights of the Light Seekers; their communal blood oath.” Elder Chief
Paulsol suddenly turned to Dogsircore, “I believe some tales are left to
the victims.”

All eyes turned to Dogsircore as he sat like a statue with his eyes
focused on the face of the Elder Chief.

“Yes Elder,” replied Dogsircore slowly. “Th e oath is part of me and
will always be. My ancestors were the Knights of the Light Seekers.”
Everyone was flabbergasted at the admission of Dogsircore and the
room grew even quieter. “I will clarify—at a later time.”

“Fair enough my friend, fair enough,” replied Razorblade and
without missing a beat spoke in kind. “Please carry on elder.”

“Sir Cedric of Po, the third Aroden Lord, in his wisdom, divided
the talisman in two and placed them in certain areas, one of which is
perilous, the other is un-reachable.

Elder Chief Paulsol faced his two guardsmen who stood behind
him as motionless statues. “Theses words are not for your hearing, leave us.”

“As you wish Elder Chief,” said the guardsmen simultaneously.

With that the guards left the room. Elder Chief Paulsol leaned
slightly forward; closer to the table, his face heavy with significance.
“One piece is located in a distant land on the edge of the 1st
Kingdom that I believe is near the Waters of Sodian. The modest
tribe of the Atlas People, who live in harmony with flora and fauna,
protect one half of the talisman. I don’t recall their exact location, but
they usually hide from outsiders in order to keep the society in perfect
seclusion. Th e Atlas People honor the oath of the Knights of the Light
Seekers and won’t just hand over the talisman. Even my father; Elder
Chief Sol, didn’t know of their location or the mystery powers of the
clan. He passed the story of this humble tribe down to me in the hopes
that someone with wisdom could reach the people. Some legends say
the Atlas People have the ability to live within the water like fishes,
which could explain the unknown locality of them. Perhaps if you can
find them, and present your request, they might hear you out, but be
earnest in wisdom when meeting with the Atlas People.”

“Where is the other piece situated?” questioned Sharpstar.

“Nephlin’s Sorrow.”

***********************************************************************

After that disclosure, with a lack of original terms, all hell broke loose. A simple rescue mission now faced a danger from olden lands…

In other words, way beyond their level of understanding.

Thanks for taking the time to read this short passage, visit and check out Avenging Knights “Rebirth of Lost Honor” when you get a chance…