It was a time of subjugation disguised as peace. The Tyrant saw to the total control of everyone and everything. His influence was across so much of Aebros, and for many cycles his grip was unshakable. The lie perpetuated for an entire alternation.

-Excerpt from Alternation of the Tyrant

Alric landed on the tavern’s floor with a loud thud. His small pack that was slung across a shoulder thumped to his side. He could feel warm ale seeping through his leather jerkin into the shirt below it. Slightly disoriented he looked to his left at the thing that collided into him, it was the smaller figure of the hellion that sat next to him.

It hurriedly stood and began bellowing out in a raspy voice at the small group glowering at him, “Great Fangs take you! I did nothing to the lot of you.” The hellion’s body was tense and its mouth set in a snarl.

Alric slowly stood up and assessed the situation, looking at the group he assumed were the aggressors within the conflict. It consisted of a man and woman in leather armor with short-swords at their belts. The third, a hellion with dark blue scales and a smaller crest, garbed in an animals hide that covered its muscular frame along with a few green-colored symbols. It stood where the other hellion was sitting, and now was yelling back at its white-scaled kin.

With a hiss, the blue-scaled hellion yelled, spittle flew from the creature’s maw, “Nothing? Say that to the many scaled your fang-less kin led to ruin.” It thumped its tail onto the tavern’s wooden floor, punctuating its statement.

The woman in the group spoke next. From her appearance, she seemed an experienced adventurer, as evident with the several scars that marked her face. She laughed and gestured to the white hellion, “I bet you still worship the Tyrant, eh?” She said slightly slurring her words and then took a step forward.

The hellion responded with a savage growl, Alric could see the creature’s eyes flick between its three antagonists. Lifting a claw it pointed to itself and then said, “The coloring of my hide say nothing of my spirit or beliefs. Speak no more unless you and the no-scales mean to bear fangs.”

Others within the tavern were now murmuring among themselves, some standing from their seats. The tavern’s proprietor glared at the those involved in the tense situation from behind the bar. He slammed a tankard onto the counter and he spoke slowly with a serious tone, “I will not have any fighting in my tavern.”

From beside his companions, the man shook his head, a scowl etched it. He had a lanky figure that still showed some muscle. Ignoring the warning he spoke in a gravelly voice, some words were slightly slurred, “Barkeep, you would allow his sort within your walls?” He let out a coarse laugh and turned to face the rest of the room, “And what about all of you. You would protect something that would represent the Tyrant?” His eyes fell upon Alric, “And what have you been looking at freak, hiding something behind those bandages are you? Are you with the fanatic?”

Several of the patrons now moved behind to reinforce the group, they seemed to be companions of the three as they proceeded to glare at everyone else in the room, or agreed with the words they spoke.

Alric did not notice that his hood had fallen back. A surge of panic went through him as raised it back over his head. Breathing in deeply he then shrugged, “No, I do not know this individual nor what this quarrel is about, but I shall say you did cause my drink to be spilled. I believe you owe me an ale for the inconvenience.” He paused for a moment, Alric felt as though many curious eyes were now upon him, “That and you insult me by calling attention to my own personal matters.” He said gesturing to his face. “I suggest not being too hung up on appearances friend nor the past. By speaking utter nonsense you are at present the fool.” As the words left his mouth Alric grimaced and sighed. I do so well at keeping myself hidden, he thought to himself. Before he could even begin to apologize the skinny man acted. It was a blur of motion as the lankier man grabbed a nearby chair, and with a furious yell tossed it in the direction of Alric.

Alric somehow acting instinctively pulled on the energies of obscuros. The surrounding shadows immediately pulled towards him. Familiar whispers of the void filling his mind as his body slipped into an immaterial form. The chair passed through him, and Alric felt a slight tickling sensation as it did. He heard the chair slam into something and a string of loud curses following it. Alric turned to see the large man with a thick black beard, who was previously sitting beside him at the bar, now on the floor pushing the chair off him. At this point, the whispers in his head were a cacophony of incoherent words, and abruptly his form became corporeal. Alric felt dazed and shook his head of the echoing voices, but before he could regain any composure a swift blow to his head sent him to the floor. He groaned as now the vestiges of any whispering were replaced by a loud ringing. All around him he could hear that the tavern was in chaos. Loud yells, thuds, and the sound of boots running across the wooden floor. As he slowly began rising to his feet, Alric felt something quickly brush past him.

The larger man had tackled the thin man, pinning him to the floor and now pummeled him with a meaty fist. “I’ll teach ye to throw chairs around,” he said in-between punches while spit dribbled down into his beard.

Alric slowly picked himself back up as quickly as he could and then took in the chaotic surroundings. Various patrons were fighting each other all around the room. From the corner of his eye, he saw movement, raising an arm he blocked a kick aimed for his head. It was the woman from the group of aggressors, a vicious grin across her face.

“Should ‘ave kept your smart mouth to yourself.” She said while hastily lowering her foot.

Swiftly dropping into a crouching position Alric swept a leg under her. With a look of anger and surprise, she fell onto her back, slamming her head onto the floor with a loud bang. “It was not I who started hassling the folk simply trying to enjoy themselves,” Alric said with a smooth tone. Springing back up he suddenly felt something bump into his back. Alric immediately turned his head to see that the white-scaled hellion had backed into him. He could see the blue hellion was advancing upon it, growling deeply.

The hellion behind him looked back up at Alric with deep red eyes. For a mere moment, it examined him then turned back to the encroaching foe. Speaking fast the hellion said, “I’ll buy you an ale when this is over. Replace the one currently soaked into your clothing.” The creature’s tail swayed back and forth, seeming excited despite the current circumstances.

Alric looked down at the hellion and nodded, “Deal. I shall hold you to that.”

In a flash of white scales, the hellion behind Alric leaped at the other. Both tumbled with each other crashing into a few tables, knocking them over. A man whose jerkin was open, revealing his rotund figure, stomped through the room to Alric.

“You have a clever tongue. I’m going to rip it out.” He said with a lopsided grin painted across a flushed face.

Hastily glancing down to the woman, he saw her begin to slowly stand back up as she rubbed the back of her head. Grabbing her free hand Alric swung her toward the fast approaching drunk and with a strong kick to her midsection sent her flying into him. Above the din of the brawl, Alric thought he could hear the sound of someone playing an instrument with an intensity as if to match the surrounding action. A roar of fury erupted near Alric, turning to meet it he saw the battered face of the skinnier man running towards him with fists raised. He saw that his last opponent was grappling with two other patrons. As Alric raised his hands to prepare for the attack when something flew past his head and crashed into the face of the man rushing him. The object that bounced away was a wooden mug. Baffled by the sight, Alric whipped around to see to the outstretched hand of a blue-colored aetharr from across the room, it regarded Alric for a moment with striking green eyes. Then with a quick salute and a wink, the lithe figure of the aetharr dodged out of view as a group of customers fighting amongst themselves approached it.

For a few long moments, the Drunken Crow remained in disarray with tables, ale, and a few groaning bodies on its floor. Some who were sitting outside attempted to try and break up the fighting but mostly ended up getting tossed into the melee. While Alric danced around the attacks of the woman and some of her companions, he briefly saw the two individuals that Melthor had mentioned were off-duty guardsmen. Before having to turn his attention back to his opponents Alric saw the blue-green hellion dash away, and this was soon followed by the yelling of the older guard for a the return to order within the establishment. This was to no avail as his shouts were drowned out by sounds of fighting.

When the doors opened again, five armored city guardsmen rushed into the tavern and loudly called for a stop to the fighting. Some intervening in patrons still grappling with each other. Behind them entered an aetharr whose smooth opaque skin was colored a rusty-brown, and it wore heavy plate beautifully engraved with tree motifs. Unlike the aetharr Alric saw guarding the gates this one did not speak softly but began bellowing in a commanding and resounding voice. Many stopped and looked to the aetharr.

“Furious. I suggest you flat-feet cease your squabbling and exit the tavern.” Nodding to the city guard at either side of it lowered its voice and spoke with a rough but measured tone, “I am captain Nesh of the city guard. I understand festivities are underway for many, and that hot blood comes from the excitement.” Pausing to scan the room with bright yellow pupil-less eyes, “But I will not tolerate this behavior. I will be speaking with the proprietor to better understand the situation. For those who set off this complication, you will be visited by the guard and you will be made to make reparations. For those who still participated. You are warned.” The aetharr motioned its head to the door, “Clear out and walk your flat-feet out those doors.” Then the captain moved to speak with the tavern’s owner who had emerged from beneath the bar’s counter, visibly upset by the events that had just transpired.

Alric tried to blend with the crowd moving out the doors, but simply got glares and curious looks from those we walked with. As soon as he could, Alric strode away from the mass of bodies toward the surrounding area of the Western Garden. The cool night air seemed to wash across him, it was a welcome feeling from the stuffy confines of the tavern. He moved off the dirt path and into the large grassy areas of the garden. Alric found one of the wooden structures as he walked, and upon seeing that is was unoccupied sat on one of the benches circling an empty floor. As he began to relax he felt the slow ache of several bruises across his body.

About to lay himself across the bench a raspy voice called out to him, “Anyone ever tells you that you highly noticeable at night?” It came from outside the structure.

Alric raised himself up slowly and cautiously walked to the side he heard the voice from. Outlaying on the grass was the white-scaled hellion, illuminated by a dim hardlight shard that lay beside him. Its traveling cloak was crumbled beneath its head. Snout pointed to the sky, the hellion seemed to be watching the night sky with its multitude of lights above. With the dim light, Alric could see that the creature wore a metal breastplate along with leather pants outfitted with metal plate, and he could see that it looked worn, used. Walking out into the grass he glanced at the lights above, the shards glittered across the black sky canvas. “It may have been commented on,” Alric said casually.

The hellion lifted his head up slightly to look up at Alric, “Is that so? You also smell strange.” It laid its head back down, “I am Ghask. A brother-scale from The Fang, and you?”

Alric moved to lay in the grass a few paces away from Ghask, “Well met. You can call me Alric. I am a simple traveler and not even a registered adventurer.”

Ghask grunted then said, “Simple? I would have mistaken you for an adventurer with at least some experience from your display this evening.” The hellions sat up and massaged its arm, “Sister-scale at the tavern hit hard in her rage. Sharp claws on that one.” Ghask then shook his head, “For her to engage with a brother-scale who did not provoke.” He paused then spoke slowly, “Shows how white-scaled kin are still shunned. Hated.”

Alric turned his head to the hellion. Ghask was still rubbing his arm. From the dim hardlight, Alric could see a few shallow scratches across the arm. He could also see the dark red lines that curved around the hellions arm, and from what Alric could see they formed a design he could not identify. Deciding to stay silent he waited for Ghask to continue speaking.

Ghask slowly shook his head, “Most see only my white-scales. After hatching into this world I have only been marked by transgressions I did not participate in.” Beside the hellion, his tail thumped into the grass periodically. “You spoke up. Most would walk away or hiss sharp words.”

Alric gave his shoulders a slight shrug, “Staying silent did not seem right. As for attacking someone without cause, that too does not seem to be the action to take.” His thoughts wandered back to his own circumstances, “Most see the past as shackles. Change happens and you can break those bindings.” He then gestured to Ghask with a nod of his head, “Why does your ancestry haunt you so?”

Turning to Alric, Ghask tilted his head slightly, “You are not familiar with the white-scale sect?”

Alric took a moment, trying to recall as much of what he knew about hellions. He felt as though his knowledge about them was likely inadequate, “I know hellions organize themselves into clans and enjoy the battle. Were the white-scales a clan? Were they on the wrong side of a conflict?”

Ghask examined Alric then chuckled hoarsely saying, “You know about as much as most do regarding my kind. Though, I would have thought that most would know about them.”

“I grew up far east from here in a timeless village, so some tales would be lost on me,” Alric said after turning back to face the night sky. As the words left him he felt a twinge of sadness. He now had no memories of childhood. Pushing aside the thought he re-focused on Ghask.

“They were scaled from any calling, but they all had white-scales.” Lowering his voice Ghask then whispered, “They believed in a lie that caused many scaled pain.” The looked down at the ground for a moment, his red eyes for a brief moment appearing somber, then he grunted. “Enough of that. It is a past now gone.” Slightly shaking his head, he moved his attention back to Alric and spoke with a steady tone once more, “Are you looking to join a guild?”

Alric shifted his gaze from the night sky back to the hellion. He was surprised by the abrupt question, “The thought may have occurred to me, yes. Why do you ask?”

“I seek a new purpose. A guild seems like a place that could give me that.” The hellions said casually, “How about you?”

Alric sat up, through the bandages on his hands he could still feel the cold grass. He took a moment to contemplate the answer. The hellion seemed an honest sort, but the truth needed to be kept hidden. It would most likely lead to his discovery and immediate persecution. Anyone who knew would simply label him a creature of the Tyrant and execute him. Though he understood the risks involved with the task given to him. Thoughts remained at the back of his mind, questioning the circumstance he found himself in; however, at this moment Ghask’s words seemed to resonate with Alric. A vague path lay before him, but even then he still felt lost. The world around him was familiar and at the same time so foreign. Alric had no basis for why knew what he did about the world, and so he felt out of place, lost. A feeling he felt related to not having a purpose. He spoke deliberately, choosing his words, “I am looking to become an adventurer and join a guild as it is likely the best path to a future goal of mine, and to be recognized for a certain amount of skill I possess while in good company would also be nice.”

Ghask nodded his head when Alric finished giving his answer, seeming to be satisfied with it. Then pointed a claw at Alric, staring at him through the dim light, “Is your goal related to your odd look?”

“Yes, it is actually. It is one of the reasons that I am driven to move forward,” Alric said firmly.

A laugh came from Ghask, “You have conviction. That is admirable.” He gestured to his eyes, within the dim lighting they looked a deep crimson, “You have caught my eye, and I have sharp eyes.” A grin formed across his reptilian features, “Instead of joining a guild how about starting one with me?”

Alric was not expecting the conversation to move into such an intriguing proposition. He had not considered starting his own guild nor did he fully understand the process involved with such an endeavor, “You would rather start a guild than join one?”

“I am capable and would likely find a guild to take me, but like with a new scaled joining a clan. I would not be fully trusted and constantly tested for my forth.” He breathed out loudly, his nostrils flaring, “It would be harder for me to be accepted. Especially with my scales.” He held up his arm, the white scales faintly glinting in the light. Clenching his hand into a fist he pounded his chest plate and said loudly, “More importantly the idea of creating something new would be exciting and a more welcome challenge. It would give me much purpose and a means to test myself.” He gestured to Alric with his tail, “You seem like someone who would be interesting to adventure with. Not exactly a stalwart scaled warrior but someone capable. I would not have bothered to ask if I did not believe that. What do you say?”

To Alric, the hellion seemed genuine and eager about the idea. Though he knew that trusting the hellion was not the wisest decision Alric decided to take the chance, “How about talking about it in the morning? I’ll say for the moment that I am interested.”

With a snort of amusement, the hellion laid back down into the grass, “I am not sure what you plan to do, but this scaled one is sleeping here.”

“I think my day was long enough, and besides the feel of nature can be just as comfortable as any bed,” Alric said as he laid himself back onto the lush grass. Grabbing his traveling pack he used it to rest his head.

Ghask yawned and gave a slight nod.

Alric closed his eyes and felt the tug of sleep as he drifted off.

—

His hands shook as he walked through darkness. He knew from the sounds of rustling leaves and creaking wood branches that a forest surrounded him. Moving forward blindly he followed an invisible force that seemed to compel him in a direction. After being in the darkness for what felt like an eternity a light shimmered in the distance. Shielding his eyes he moved towards the light until it enveloped him. He emerged into scenery that was entirely different from the dark forest. All around him was thick vegetation that seemed overgrown. The air was also hot and felt thick. He turned to see the welcoming shadows of the forest, but once more he walked. Stumbling over large roots and pushing past massive leaves he continued moving. Looking up he saw that the trees stretched far up into a dense canopy. It looked like the sky was replaced with a sick green. but despite that everything still seemed too bright. The shadows seemed small and insignificant. The plants around him seemed to pulse with savage energy. To him, the environment seemed oppressive despite its vibrant coloring. Once more he followed the invisible force that urged him onward, everything felt so wrong. Fear coursed through him as he resisted the overwhelming urge to retreat back into the dark forest. Somehow that idea seemed wrong to him. He stopped as he heard a guttural growl from above him. As he looked up a large figure leaped from one of the trees it clung to. It was a grotesque creature that seemed more like a nightmare manifest. The monstrosity seemed to be a mass of bulging flesh. With its multitude of eyes, it hungrily watched him. Opening a large gaping maw filled with dagger-like teeth, it began advancing on him. Before he could begin running the monster leaped at him. As the creature was bearing down upon him it suddenly snapped backward. A thick green vine was wrapped around it. As the creature snarled it began squealing as the thick green tendril moved toward a flower that opened into a pulsating ring of pointed teeth. Before he could see anything he ran. Moving quickly he soon saw the familiar dark forest. He leaped into its dark embrace. A voice echoed in his mind, “One inevitability.”