Luther's eyes snapped open as Alun jumped from his seat and stared out of the window, wildly looking beyond. Luther's blurred vision took in the clearing sight of a charred landscape as the driver pulled the carriage to a halt, and sat in dismay at the view that they all beheld. Alun opened the carriage door and stumbled out onto the scorched earth in disbelief; Luther felt his breath shorten with anxiety. The scene before him was terrifying. The whole town had been razed to the ground, and the surrounding forest had been reduced to a blackened, charred landscape, littered with small fires resembling the camping stoves of an enormous host.

Alun stumbled over the charcoaled earth and down the slope that led to Stonehill. Tears welled in his eyes as his ash-sodden boots climbed the dumped scum that had been thrown from Stonehill's streets by a flood. Dismembered limbs littered the surrounding area, and floated in puddles of blood and offal; the mud was mushed within this to give the earth a crimson tinge.

Alun finally stepped onto the cobbled streets, tears now streaming down his cheeks. His childhood home was in ruins, and as he looked up at the ruined castle upon the cliff high above, he remembered as a child looking up at the same ruin. He recalled the smell of lumber, now marred by the stench about him. Tears fell from his chin as he saw his family from a past life: a brother with whom he fought, and a sister; a sister who was always there, even when all others were not. There were also his parents, whose kindness and understanding had guided him through his life’s path to the man he now was. All were now lost and in their place – emptiness.

Alun stood in front of the source of the fire after wandering the desolate streets. He looked at this burned house in horror; the house had once been his, and as he stepped over the blackened threshold, he saw in the centre two sets of charred remains, picked bare and to the bone, lying side by side.

A shuffling sound behind him caused Alun to swing around. Luther stood on the threshold, a handkerchief over his mouth as he peered into the doorway.

"This was my home," Alun's voice crawled out in a shattered croak.

Luther stepped inside, saw the skeletons, swung around, and threw up on the cobbles outside. He sat shivering on the stone steps waiting for his companion to come back out and join him. The fresh smell of rain permeated from the stones that surrounded Luther and mixed in with the smoky smell of the extinguished fire.

Alun eventually stumbled out into the street. His blue sparkling eyes had faded, leaving only tear-stained orbs to squint in the light of the sun. His hat crumpled in his clenched hand, which hung limply by his side, leaving his mousey hair to fall about his face.

Together, they made their way back out of Stonehill in silence. A slight breeze chased away the sickening scent of the decaying scum on the outskirts. They began to mount the hill when all of a sudden crunching, ripping sounds alerted Luther and Alun to the top of the slope they were on.

They shared a worried glance before running to the summit. Alun was in front, leaving Luther to fall a little behind, but then stopped short to find their carriage and horses being ravaged by strange mutated monsters. Brown fur stuck out randomly from their dark, leathery hides; their elongated forearms ended in strange, small, paw-like hands which manipulated black finger-like talons that ripped into the horse's flesh and splintered the wooden carriage. The driver was nowhere to be seen, but the screams and distant howling from within the forest alerted Luther and Alun to his whereabouts. Together they stepped back, and decided to slowly head back down the slope in retreat.

A crack resounded throughout the empty and scorched landscape, and seemed to rebound from each stone wall of the town below. Cringing, Luther looked down at the snapped branch beneath his shoe, then at Alun, and then back at the two monsters feasting upon the horses. Their ears began to swivel as the echoes of the crack died down. Then, as one, their heads slowly lifted from the destroyed horse carcasses and turned, displaying rows of razor sharp teeth that dripped with blood and displayed strips of hanging horse flesh caught between each fang. Yellow eyes glinted evilly out from the elongated faces of each demon as they slowly rounded on Alun and Luther.

Luther closed his eyes and committed his stance, slowing his breathing and making himself believe that this wasn't real. Alun's panicked voice rang out in the wall of silence that had fallen.

"What are you doing, you fool? RUN!"

A hand grabbed underneath Luther's arm and hauled him down the hill.

Luther opened his eyes to see Alun dragging him towards Stonehill. In panic, he looked behind him to see the two wolf-like creatures bounding behind them, blood still drooling from their mouths, and strips of flesh streaming out behind them, letting out excited barks. The screams had died down in the surrounding forest, and were replaced by the triumphant howls of the driver's hunters.

But that was the last thing on Luther and Alun's minds as they ran full pelt into Stonehill.

They charged through the side streets blindly, tripping over the cobblestones, constantly hounded by the wolven monsters. Alun was still dragging Luther by his arm, and almost lifted him from his feet as they flew around corners. The ragged breathing of the beasts drew nearer, threatening to push Luther into a full-blown breakdown.

Rounding another corner, they came skidding to a halt, and hit the stone wall that had stopped them. Terror filled Alun head to toe as he spun around to see the two leering, monstrous demons slow up and take in their victory. They sniffed the air and savoured their prey's fear, and Luther sank down in a corner, babbling incoherently with his arms over his head.

Suddenly, a sickening thud came out of nowhere, and Alun stared in amazement as he saw the closest monster's life fade from its yellow eyes. The other beast span around and snarled so fearsomely that Luther collapsed in fright, hitting his head on the cobblestones beneath him, and knocking himself out cold. The dead beast slid to the ground to display an ornate silver axe protruding from the back of its skull.

In the alley's entrance, a short figure stood, his legs spaced shoulder-width apart, and a second, larger axe in both hands. The other monster gave a howl full of bloodlust and hatred. The short newcomer stood his ground and raised his axe. The afternoon light sparkled against the armour that hid beneath his black cloak. A hood had been pulled over his head and kept his face in shadow, but a thick red braided beard fell from its recesses onto the newcomer's armoured chest.

The beast pounced at the short armoured man with fangs and claws outstretched. At the last moment, the newcomer's axe came up to meet the beast's chin. He cleaved its face in half, sending its corpse flying backwards in the air, showering an arc of spattered gore. It landed at Alun's feet, staring up at him with a single glassy eye, fluid pooling from its wound.

...

Olaf closed Marius's door behind him and walked down the high-vaulted stone corridor outside. Halfway down, the left-side wall gave way to pillars and displayed an amazing northern view overlooking the fork in the great Mother-locke River. From his castle, perched high, Olaf sat slightly north-east of Stonehill and the northern border mountains of Alturine.

He leant against one of the pillars, and took in the fresh mountain air and appreciated the view. A creaking sound from down the hallway caused Olaf to lean around the pillar and scan the corridor for any signs of trouble. Marius's head poked out from his doorway and took in the grand corridor. He spotted Olaf leaning against the pillar and shuffled over to him.

Marius stopped, astonished, and took in the view; the snaking blue of the Mother-locke River spread on indefinitely into the north-eastern plains of the Vakringuardian Kingdoms. Marius realised that this must be where he was, because nowhere in the Alturine Empire could be this vast or this wild. High above the frosty grasslands, giant birds wheeled overhead, stalking the giant woolly cattle that grazed below.

A strong northerly wind ripped through Marius's clothes, and he realised for the first time that he was no longer wearing the same clothes as he had in Stonehill. He looked down at the leather tunic, thick woollen trousers, and doe-hide boots he was now wearing. He thought about where he was and what he was wearing, and looked up at Olaf.

"Olaf, how did I get here?"

Olaf looked down at Marius and smiled, and his blue tattoos subtly began to glow. "I transported you here with magic Marius.” He pulled out his pipe again and indicated to it as he began to pack in the tobacco. "I demonstrated a bit of it earlier with the smoke, but I can do a lot more than make fancy smoke rings, I can assure you.”

Olaf placed the pipe in his mouth and puffed out a detailed landscape of the scene before them.

"Magic?" Marius thought back to Stonehill and Eldrikch raising the dead, then to his miraculously healed injuries, and to Olaf's smoke figures.

He stared at the smoke mural in front of him, trying to comprehend what was happening. Marius hadn't really processed how the impossible was happening, but now he had time to process, and he realised how close he had been to death and where he had ended up.

Marius frowned and looked up at Olaf. "You saved my life. Why?"

Olaf lifted one of his bushy eyebrows and looked down at Marius, smoke curling from his nose and through his beard. "Well, firstly I needed to find out what happened to your town, and secondly I am not in the habit of letting people die.”

He let the smoke drift out over the landscape and savoured its taste. Marius looked out at the drifting smoke and thought about Eldrikch, throwing him across the square with a flick of his wrist.

He looked back at Olaf. "Can you teach me?"

At this, Olaf raised both of his eyebrows. "Can I teach you magic?"

Marius nodded, firm on his question. "I want to protect myself. Can you teach me?"

Olaf drew on his pipe once more and puffed out the blue tinged smoke. "No Marius, I cannot teach you magic. It is something that you are born with, or rather a skill which has been lost. But I can teach you how to defend yourself."

Marius frowned. "How can I defend myself against magic?"

Olaf smiled. "With my help and teachings I can assist you, Marius."

Olaf pushed himself off from the pillar, and walked further down the corridor, smoke trailing behind his hulking frame, beckoning Marius to follow.

"Where are we going?" he asked, frowning, but Olaf beckoned once more and continued down the corridor. Marius stumbled after Olaf, still frowning.

The corridor opened out onto a massive hall that was lined with dusty banners and coats of arms mounted on shields in front of maces, swords, and an assortment of other weapons. The flagstone floor led into vast stone steps that wound around the hall leading up to each floor. Olaf started down the steps, his coat tails trailing behind him on each step, and his silver pauldron glinting in the dim light of the hall.

Marius had never seen anything this size before; not even the ruins above Stonehill were this immense.

Olaf walked across the vast landing that split the staircase in half to wind up to the other floors; the centre piece of the landing, a heavy oaken door, sat ajar. Olaf passed it by without a glance, leaving Marius to peer inside to see massive columns holding up a stone arched roof. High windows streamed light into the long hall and displayed a tall, stone throne with detailed carvings that led to the ceiling.

"Are you coming, lad?"

Marius turned around to see Olaf standing in the middle of the great hall, looking up at him expectantly. Marius hurried as Olaf continued on.

The ground floor contained numerous doors, all similar sizes, however two stood differently from the others. The main door sat opposite the throne room, and was decorated with high arches that dominated the northern wall. The second door was only slightly larger than the others, but was darker in colour. Dark hand prints littered the edges and fell around the door's handle, and as Marius drew nearer he realised the dark marks were ancient blood stains.

A shiver crept up his spine. Olaf pushed the door open and continued into the corridor beyond.

Marius pushed past the bloodstained door and took in the new corridor. Lamps flickered on the walls in between massive horned skullswith sharp fangs that glittered in the lamplight. Marius looked up and saw that these were not the only skulls that lined the walls. Various shapes and types littered the high reaches of the corridors, and other strange and foreign weapons were amidst the shining bones.

Marius took it all in, then turned to see Olaf looking at him.

"What do you think, lad?" A hint of depression lingered over Olaf as he stood amongst the countless trophies.

"What are all these, Olaf?" Marius pointed to the skulls first, then at the weapons.

Olaf looked at them all slowly, then walked over to a particularly large horned skull and laid one of his massive hands upon one of its horns.

"Remember when I told you about the dragons?"

Marius slowly nodded and looked up at the skulls; Olaf indicated to the nearest and largest.

"Well, here they are, as well as other things.”

Olaf turned around and continued down the corridor. It ended in another set of bloodstained doors, and as Olaf opened them a great gust of wind poured into the corridor, causing the lamps to flicker. A high space lay beyond, and at a small mutter from Olaf, flames burst into life from torches on the wall to display a huge arena.