The group was ushered away from the summoning area by a cadre of guards, each wearing chainmail, a sword at their hip, and a halberd held upright as they marched the five off towards a citadel which appeared very strange in the eyes of Karastak. One where he believed he had seen it from somewhere, but couldn't quite place it, but as they crossed a garden of water, he glanced back at the way he came. Whereupon something clicked inside his mind, and he grasped onto it, mulling it around until he missed out on a few sceneries down several halls.

However, he came back to reality when the group appeared before a pair of solid gold double doors with many images of angels and devils fighting one another etched upon the surface. Once they opened, they revealed a dazzling throne room where a man sat upon a high-back golden seat adorned with many jewels. The one before them was also adorned with jewels, but upon his fingers, around the neck, as well as on the surcoat worn about himself.

The face of this one was hidden in a mass of curled, dark hair and a beard that stretched down to his gullet. The only feature revealed were a pair of tanned cheeks, a beak-like nose, and piercing blue eyes which tried to penetrate the pale giant's entire being, but gave off the impression of an arrow striking against a wall of iron.

“Kneel before our King,” growled one of the guards, and they each began to subsequently force the group to prostrate themselves before this unknown person. However, when they reached the giant who glowered down upon them, the group summoned five more in order to make this three metre tall Goliath kneel.

Karastak, on the other hand, was not about to let such a thing occur, and instead growled out, “.” After which a torrent of wind enveloped his body briefly, before shoving these brash Humans away from his person. Of which caused the king upon his throne to pay a little more attention to himself, whilst the others brought themselves up before lowering their halberds against him.

“Hmph,” harrumphed the pale giant, “You Humans are all the same. 'This is mine', 'I'll kill you', 'Bow before me because I am King'. Bah,” he spat upon the floor and turned to leave.

“Where do you think you're going?” rumbled a new voice, the voice of the man on a throne who was angered that a subject was being so unruly, “You are to pay homage to me, Hero.”

To which Karatask couldn't help, but laugh at the arrogance of the little man who did nothing, but sit upon his wealth, “I am not your 'Hero',” again he spat upon the ground as he turned around to face the Human, pointing at the four who were still prostrating, “These are your heroes. I am nothing more than an innocent who was swept up in this mess.”

He paused for a moment, glancing up and behind the king, his eyes lying upon six rows of twelve both grotesque and beautiful sculptures when the final click resounded within his mind. “King Solomon's Palace,” he whispered.

“So,” grinned the Human, “You've regained your senses at last,” but soon frowned when the other shook his head.

“You are not King Solomon, Human, nor do you have his book and ring. Else you would have already won both the war and this world. As such, you are nothing more than an impostor who is warming the seat of his throne.”

“I am King Solomon,” thundered the Human, who stood up in such a rush, that the beard upon his face fell away, revealing a red faced youth who was playing King.

“No. You are just a brat,” growled Karastak, “One who does not deserve my respect or loyalty.” After which he turned and left, only barely hearing a voice calling for his guards to slay the giant who so disrespected him.

However, as they charged the robed giant, they were left with confusion. One moment, he was there, and the next he wasn't. Where in actuality, he had used his to dash away and into the world unknown.

*

The pale Goliath in his blue robe passed by many servants and guards, each covering their nose and mouth at the dust storm left in his wake, as he searched for a way out. Of which was not too far, but there was another problem, the gate to the outside world was locked, barred, and defended by a large retinue of soldiers. However, he was not about to use the front door to get out, and instead dashed off towards one of the sides, chanting, “.”

A stone wall, almost half a kilometre in height rose up to meet the giant who was dashing towards it. There were other Humans upon the battlement, and they had begun to shout out to others that he was fast approaching, but still he continued with his chant, “.

“!” Upon so saying, crimson energies quickly flowed from his waist and wrapped themselves around the whole of his legs as he continued to dash forward.

After what seemed both an instant, and an eternity, the Goliath felt the energies within release down into the ground, pushing his body high into the air like great springs. Whereupon his body flew over gaping soldiers, and landed upon the edge of a cliff face overlooking a city of sun bleached and wind worn stone down below within a sea of sand.

Quickly, his eyes scanned the entirety of where he stood, and decided, against better judgment, that he would dash down the cliff face with equal applications of his spells , and . Once on the ground, after stumbling forward and rolling forward for a few metres, he sighed slowly as his body stood tall once more. Whereas high above, he felt to soldiers' eyes upon his and decided to bring about a small dust storm to obscure those very eyes.

After which he frowned as he noted the lack of his bag and staff. Though the latter could be summoned at any time, he still desired to have them both in his hand. However, it was the former he was more upset about, especially the gift Clarissa had given him. For he wished to open it in the confines of his own room at an inn, and not have any prying eyes beyond his Little Mother to ogle at it.

Speaking of which, he cupped his hand over his heart, whispering, “Come, Little Mother. It is time to greet the new day.” After which a small and incessant squeak echoed off the dust which still hung in the air. This led to the appearance of the white bat, which frowned as she spluttered against the many particles, but crawled into his hair nonetheless.

Whereupon he snapped his fingers, allowing his robe to melt away into nothingness before chanting, “.” This led to another creation of a robe, but one which was a light tan in colour so that he may better blend in with the crowd. Which led to another problem, how was he to blend in with three metres of height to his name?

The answer was simple, as he blew up another round of dust, he was to create a new persona with his magicks. Of which began with an incantation of, “.

“.”

Within his right hand was a plain, white mask which was the shape of his own face, and secured it perfectly upon it. After which a torrent of energy engulfed his entirety with the little white bat squeaking unhappily at the change. For Karastak's hair became not of white as virgin snow, but as black as pitch. His own face remained the same in structure and sharpness, with only his eyes changing from pinpricks in a sea of white, to a rich, earthy brown with a ring of gold around the irises. His skin's tone took a noticeable change, with its pigments flaring until they became a dark tan, almost the same shade as his eyes. Whereas the entirety of his body shrank by a full metre, so that he would be regarded as a tall Human, rather than a giant of a man called a Goliath.

Upon completing the transformation, his body wobbled enough that he leaned against the cliff face, and enacted his skill, , to recover any lost mana. Of which led to the crumbling of the stone and earth surrounding where he lay, and had to extract himself quickly from it before he became entrapped by the cascading earth.

Once he felt refreshed enough, the newly made Human, along with his squeaking bat which wiggled under his hair, conjured up more of the dust cloud with his Gust spell, and dashed off towards the city which was laid before his very eyes.

*****

King Solomon paced with fury in front of Korin, who wore a choker of enchanted steel to render his mind blank so to better control his actions. The others, the Halfling and Wolfwomen, also wore the same chokers, but had been ushered away to serve as concubines in the man's ever growing harem of women. He had become intrigued by their uniqueness, and desired to know what sort of offspring would come from them. Especially after finding out that Priscilla was not a child, by a grown woman with a stunted growth and small dog tail above her rear end.

Whereas the only male of the group was to be used as the Humans' Hero on Azzarath, to slay and destroy the Demons and their Lord. Of whom was knelt down, wearing an enchanted garb which gave him the appearance of an Angel, rather than a warrior.

“Now then,” growled the King, “You are to tell me your level, your stats, and anything you can about that giant who left. I want him for my own, and when he is mine, you will be removed so that he may serve me as the Humans' Hero. Understand?” At a nod from Korin, he sat upon his throne, listening to an ever growing lust for the Goliath and his skills.

'He will be mine,' his mind schemed, 'He will, and I shall make it so.'

*****

“How annoying,” growled Karastak as he leaned against one of the adobe huts near the city's gate, “To think that all cities of Humans are corrupt in some way would be justifiable.” He spoke of the instance where a Guard at the gates tried to extort him for gold, rather than the standard toll of 1 Silver for new arrivals. There was a sign at the gates denoting such a toll, but the imbecile believed him to be unlearned in letters and numbers, and insisted on being handed two gold coins to be allowed entrance into their city of Synthanos.

After which he explained to him that his Sub-class was Wordsmith. One that required him to know, understand, read, and write words. Of which led to his fellows to laugh, believing the other to be a Scribe. However, the extorting Guard frowned, embarrassed by such such a failing, and tried to take the new Human into custody for some unknown charges. This led to Karastak to conjure up yet another dust cloud with his Gust spell, blinding those nearby so that he made his escape into the city, leaving behind a single silver coin in the disgruntled man's hand as payment.

No doubt if they ever ran into each other within the city, the pair would come into an altercation.

Regardless, the dark haired man reached out with his right hand, summoning up his staff without a word, before pausing in order to think of something. “Everything requires money, no matter where you go, and surely a city this big has a bank,” he muttered to himself with arms crossed as he hummed whilst taking out a single gold coin from under his tanned robe.

Squeezing it within his hand, he felt the coin evaporate into energy, which in turn caused his hand to grow a little heavier. Upon opening it, he counted ten gold coins with the stamped image of a pauper holding a crown etched into the surface. Smiling to himself, and with a plan in mind, he headed into the city as a soft tune played within the recesses of his mind.