Now, I know that this chapter is called ‘What Thilos Said’ but let’s be realistic. This isn’t every single thing he said. I mean, come on, that would take forever! At one point he went on for awhile about how comfortable my chair that he was using was. You don’t need that. Plus, I figure you know how a book works.

Anyway, it all started while Thilos was on patrol, which means he was riding and or walking his horse from one place to another. Sometimes on main roads and sometimes on little used paths and trails, but always on the lookout for trouble. That’s what the King’s Warders are paid to do. The trouble they are looking for, and occasionally find, can be little trouble, like somebody robbing someone or maybe getting injured whilst travelling, but it can also be big trouble, like a bunch of drants attacking a group of travelers, or an army of trolls heading towards a village. This day it was a big bunch of drants attacking a group of travelers which, if you remember what I just told you a few seconds ago, is classified as “big trouble”. Thilos did what warders always do when they run into “big trouble”, which is try to get enough information on what is happening so that when they sneak away, quickly and quietly, they can file a report and get a bunch of other people to deal with the actual problem. I call this the “run away” plan. Of course, this is not how the warders describe their work, so I wouldn’t quote me about that to any of them, unless you are looking for a fight. I’m probably safe because I’m such a big hero but you are presumably just a normal person so play it safe. Man, I am full of good advice. Is this just a heroic tale of me (mainly) saving the world or is it a useful guide on how to live a successful, happy life? Or is it both? It’s a lot to think about.

So, Thilos is leading his horse along some backwoods trail and hears the sounds of a large fight or small battle, depending on how you look at these things. Now, I know exactly what was going on and I would probably take the side of small battle, but you can make your mind up after I tell you what happened.

Here’s what happened: Thilos snuck up on the scene of this small battle and, from hiding, saw the end of a fight between a bunch of drants from Skull Clan, fighting what appeared to be travelers making a pilgrimage somewhere. Drants are supposedly half human and half boar and created by Drantor the Destroyer, a jerk who is the god of destruction. He’s pretty powerful because a lot of bad guys worship him and there are always plenty of jerks and other bad people around, right Dad? I’m not saying that because my dad worshipped Drantor the Destroyer, just that my dad was, or is, a jerk. Don’t read too much into every little thing I say. I say a lot of stuff. Now I am going to say some more stuff that is actually part of my story: Luckily, the Kathaldi don’t worship any gods at all so Drantor (the Destroyer) doesn’t get any strength from those losers. Drants aren’t super creative or thoughtful so Thilos knew they were from Skull Clan because all their gear has skulls on it and they hang actual skulls off their belts. Pretty straight forward. It smells great, too, because the skulls are at various stages of freshness. Plus, it’s really classy.

Thilos figured the humans were pilgrims because they were a mix of different professions and very few of them were outfitted as fighters. The weird thing was that even though the drants and their battle wolf pals outnumbered the pilgrims there were a lot more dead drants and wolves than there were dead humans. He also noticed that none of the pilgrims were yelling, or screaming, or talking, or even crying, neither the men nor the women.

All they did was fight. Every single one of them, men and women. There weren’t any children, which was also a little odd for a group of pilgrims. Not all of them had a weapon but they were really smacking those stupid drants and wolves all over the place.

Thilos didn’t stick around to see the end of the fight. He headed to the nearest village, so he could report. That happened to be Lantora, where his old foster father, Garrick, lives and mans the warder outpost which is a semi-retired kind of job, fit for a kindly cripple. I’m sorry but Garrick hates it when I call him a cripple, so I do it as much as I can. It is one of his legs that is all messed up, so it isn’t like he can chase me down to try to teach me a lesson. It would be funny if he did, though, because with his leg like that he wobbles a lot so to see him in a hurry always makes me laugh. He loves that. We’re very close.

So, Thilos stumbles onto a big fight where a large group of drants attacks a much smaller group of presumed pilgrims and even though they are outnumbered, and don’t even all have weapons they hold their own. Then he takes off to file a report. Ah, the exciting life of a King’s Warder. Are you with me so far?

He gets to Lantora and tells his foster father, Garrick, which fact I just mentioned a little while ago so I’m not going to again. You’ll just have to remember on your own that he is Thilos’ foster father from now on. Maybe make a little note if you need to.

At this point Garrick is barely awake and Thilos is freaking out, trying to describe everything and jumbling it all up because he is tired, as well as freaked out, so it takes awhile for him to get the whole story out. Garrick is the one who suggests it might be the Kathaldi. They argue about it but decide to go check out the clearing where the mini-battle took place in the morning.

The way they tell it they did just that. Got up the next morning and rode back to the scene of the fight. When they arrived, there was one drant survivor but he had a crushed knee and several other injuries so wasn't capable of leaving. He wasn't interested in, or capable of, sharing any information about the battle so they freed him from the stress of continuing to live and searched the area. The drants had outnumbered the "pilgrims" almost two to one, and had some attack wolves helping them out, so for the drants not to easily destroy the humans was the biggest oddity. There were a lot more weird things, too. The unarmed combat, women fighting just as well as the men, and the silence of the humans while fighting and dying. I know I plan on making a crap-ton of noise when I go. The pilgrims didn't seem to have much stuff with them, either, personal type items. Most pilgrimages take quite a while, so you usually see a lot of those. Thilos and Garrick couldn't even tell where these people were from. Or where, exactly, they were going.

All in all, Garrick was convinced it was the Kathaldi, and even though Thilos wasn't so sure he agreed to ride to Ansdron and report about it to the Lord High Warder, Jingle McFruity. Just kidding, Thilos agreed to report about it to the boss warder in Ansdron, Commander Leftson. Garrick returned to Lantora and off Thilos rode, feeling a little foolish for what he was going to report.

A few days later he reached Ansdron and after a few hours spent waiting to show him how unimportant he was, compared to Commander Leftson, he finally got to see the big man.

When he finally gets to talk to the commander, he tells him everything, a little hesitantly, because he doesn't know if he believes it but he doesn't want to make it sound like he thinks Garrick is crazy. Commander Leftson basically just nods and tells Thilos he will look into it and then orders four warders to escort Thilos to wherever he is staying, but with his eyes he is saying take care of this guy, meaning kill him. Thilos is suspicious so he tries to get away but ends up having to fight them before making his way to my place.

There! I know that was awful but now I, myself, am back in the story so the real story can finally begin. Well, I guess I already told you a little about when Thilos came to my place so actually we’ll be getting back to the real story instead of beginning the real story but you know what I mean. Now we will be back to the good stuff, where I help save the world. Although, to be honest, that part doesn’t happen right away. But I do need you to meet some more people.