"But they couldn't be in sunlight, right?" Gilbert says.

"Did you two disturb the Goblin camp up north?" Xandrian says, now pale. "Fool! They

dug themselves a tunnel system all the way to the village. We guard it, but that won't

do any good if there are Goblins out for revenge on the loose!"

"Gilbert, follow me!" Archil says. "This is our fault. Let's fix it."

They walk through the door and see a few panicked people running down the street.

At the other end of the street, in the shadow of the buildings, is a pack of goblins clad

in leathercovered in gold coins.

"Kregracrark!" They yell, spotting Gilbert and Archil. They all run at Gilbert and Archil.

Gilbert picks up some rocks, Archil draws his rusty sword, Xandrian stands back.

"Good luck you two." He says. "I am no fighter..."

"In the name of the fake god!" Archil curses. "Grab some stones and throw them or

something. There are seven of them and three of us. We need all of us to stand a chance!"

"This is your problem, not mine..." Xandrian says.

"Kregracrark!" The goblins yell.

Suddenly a fierce wave of wind blasts through the streets. The goblins are flung aside,

catching the brunt of the wave. One of them is even flung into the air, above the rooftops.

He ignites in flame falling from the sky as a burning grey ball. Screaming he lands and is

still.

Archil, Gilbert and Xandrian are more fortunate. Their higher weight and the further

distance from the source caused them to only be knocked off their feet.

"What was that? Gilbert yells. "Xandrian!"

"Not me!" He yells, climbing to his feet.

Suddenly a loud roar fills the streets, followed by another gust of wind. They were

prepared this time and stood their ground. The Goblins however got knocked down again.

A tremor shook the earth. A massive creature full of red scales has landed at the beginning

of the street.

"Good day, puny morsels." It says in a deep voice. The noise seems to be inside Archil's

head. "I am Laeth, the great dragon from the east, lord of crimson flame. You, human who

seems to go by the name of Archil, you seem to know what I am. Although, the image you

associate me with seems to be that of how my kind was fifty years ago."

"Dragons..." Archil says. "The book 'Creatures of Wonder' mentioned a small, scalled,

flying reptile that was similarly influenced as the Goblins. They, however, could use the

interriftal energy in their body more freely and they did not burn in the sunlight. The book

even mentions the creatures spitting fire!"

"Yes, human." Laeth says. "However, did this book state that we communicate through our

minds? That we can grow as large as your tallest structures? That we are undefeated?"

"No..." Archil says. "It did mention however that Dragons are drawn to shiny objects,

particularly gold."

"Gold is but a... luxury we desire." The dragon explains. "It calls to use. It tells us to collect

it. We merely feel it a pastime to gather it."

The dragon bends down his head and blows to ashes of the burned goblin away. He uses

his claws to gather the gold into a pile. He bends down again and swallowed the pile

whole.

"A fine beginning for my treasure on this small island. It will make a fine kingdom that will

fall under my rule."

One of the Goblins wielding two swords regains his senses and charges at the bragging

Dragon. He brings down both of his swords on one of its legs. With a loud clang both of

them break, but the Goblin is not deterred. Other Goblins gather and they start to cheer for

the fighting Goblin. They call him 'Ginskra'. Apparently not all Goblins rushed recklessly

into impossible situations.

"Ginskra." Archil mumbles. "Revenge, if I am not mistaken."

"You, a puny Goblin, try to blemish my scales!" Laeth roars furiously. "My scales are steel!

Do you suppose you are capable of piercing steel?"

Laeth lifts up one of his massive feet and brings it down on Ginskra. The impact,

strengthened by the Goblin's own interriftal energy, creates a crater on the spot. Laeth

roars triumphantly, as if the fight took hours.

A moment of silence falls over the goblins. Slowly they start calling another name.

'Wraskra' steps forward. Wraskra, Anger in translation, starts running at Laeth. Wraskra

wields a lumberjack's axe and brings this up high to hit Laeth.

"Enough!" Leath roars, spitting a massive column of flame at the Goblins.

The Goblins scatter at the sight of the hated flames. Three fall to the fire, crying out in

agony. One of them lights another on fire. Only one manages to flee from the Dragon. He

drops his weapon, a rusted dagger, and makes his way down the street. Wraskra and the

others are now merely heaps of ash and gold.

Xandrians looks in amazement. "He used chemicals from his body to create a flame and

then he strengthened the fire with interriftal energy." He says. "That is some fine magic.

Not to mention the lack of a side effect."

"You have good eyes, human." Laeth says, happy with the compliment. "What would your

last sight see? Fire? Trampling? Do you want to be eaten? Please tell me quickly, before I

decide for you."

"Why do you deem it necessary to kill us?" Archil asks surprised.

"Why do you chose to swat an insect or trample a plant? Laeth asks. "It amuses us to kill

that which stands on our path to the future. We all rejoice at killing that which we deem

useless, no? Now tell me..."

Suddenly Laeth stops. He groans in pure agony. Electricity fills the air, electrocuting both

Archil and Gilbert. Xandrian stands behind them perfectly calm with his eyes closed, but

he seems to be tired.

"Human!" Laeth roars angrily. "You know magic? How dare you.."

Again Laeth falls to his knees in pain. Again both Archil and Gilbert are electrocuted. Again

Xandrian seems more and more tired. Finally Laeth gives in and flies away, slamming into

the side of one of the buildings. He heads north. In the direction of the city of Oliron and

the great darkwood forest.

"What was that?" Gilbert asks, utterly confused. "Xandrian was using magic, that much is

clear to me, but even with magic, how do you chase away a creature of that size?"

"Lightning, Gilbert, lightning." Xandrian says. "I noticed what the effect of it was on the

people around me, so I experimented with electricity on corpsefeeders a while back. It

turns out that if lightning is added to the brain of an animal it convulses and collapses. That

is why the Dragon left. I was creating an agonising situation that left him incapable of even

thinking straight."

"It was still a bet though." Archil states. "There was no guarantee that a creature of that

size would react the same as a corpsefeeder."

"Oh, but it didn't." Xandrian says. "You see, all corpsefeeders I tried this on died almost

instantly after showing some signs of agony."

"What caused your decision to finally help us, Xandrian?" Gilbert suddenly asks. "What

happened to 'I am no fighter'?"

"Well obviously a Dragon was threatening to kill me." Xandrian says. "The Goblins were

caused by the two of you and so they were your problem. The Dragon on the other hand,

although he did come here chasing the Goblins, was something you two had no control

over and so I decided he was my problem as well."

"So are you with us, Xandrian?" Archil asks. "Will you dare join our small cult of idiots?"

"You serve the fake god, yes?" Xandrian asks. "Funny how the one who taught me should

ask my help in such a manner. If it is the fake god we serve, I would follow you, Archil."

"It is decided then." Archil says. "And so our cult numbers three once more!"

"I can't help but notice that the fake god seems to have prepared all of this in advance..."

Gilbert says. "Is there any decision we make that he hasn't already made for us years

ago?"

"We chose to follow him, Gilbert." Archil says. "That is our choice. Now all we need to do is

follow his plan and maybe we will see an end to these times of confusion."

"Now what to do with this fire?" Xandrian asks. "The Dragon left his mark here and I will be

blamed for all of it, I fear. It is so easy to blame the odd one out..."

The street is in absolute ruin. Most wood is on fire and all buildings are marked by at least

some type of damage.

"It is of no concern to us anymore." Archil says. "All we need to do is leave."

A woman suddenly appears at the beginning of the street. She has a empty look in her

eyes as she walks towards the three men. Suddenly her eyes clear up. Panic appears in

her eyes. Archil notices the knife she wields. Her horrified gaze is fixed on Xandrian.

"You!" She yells.

This was followed by a short mumble to herself. Archil could make out the two words:

vision and devastation. She runs at Xandrian, knife raised high.

"I will not let you destroy me and this town!" She cries.

Xandrian is overwhelmed by surprise. He steps back in an attempt to stay out of the

woman's reach, but he trips and falls backwards. She is almost ready to stab him now.

Just a few more steps. Is this the end for him? Is he to die just after making new friends?

Suddenly the knife flies through the air. Archil has stepped in and used his sword to disarm

the woman. Confused she falls over backwards. In the mean time, Gilbert, who is

completely oblivious to the unfolding drama, is happily collecting gold coins from the fallen

Goblins.

"Why are you trying the kill our friend?" Archil asks the woman. "Did he do anything to

deserve such a fate as death?"

"Can't you see?" She cries. "He will burn this town to ashes! Look around you and see for

yourself! He must die before we all do!"

"I can assure you, madam, that this man has nothing to do with the devastation you see in

front of you." Archil says. "In fact, this man is the reason the street still stands. You should

thank him for it, rather than stabbing him!"

"But... but my vision?" She stutters.

"Dreams are either a scene presented to use by some hateful god, or just the product of

our own imagination." Archil explains, remembering this woman from the tavern. "We

should not act solely on what we experience in dreams and vision, because an entirely

different truth may play a part in the matter."

The woman appears to have been calmed by these words, albeit more because of

confusion than of understanding.

"Not all gods have the best interests for humanity in mind." Archil continues. "There is only

one who would have us all not be pieces in an enormous game of chess. He would rather

see us all freed from the other gods and so live our own life as we chose to. The fake god

will protect humanity when all other gods abuse us. Will you truly follow our other god?"

The woman seems to have better understanding of Archil's words, but she still seems

mystified at the meaning of most.

"Now please, go home and live your life free of the gods that would abuse you." Archil

says.

The woman leaves, all intent of killing Xandrian gone.

"I am not losing another comrade to one of Arthfael's mind tricks." Archil says.

"Thanks, I guess." Xandrian says. "I would have died there..."

"By all means, don't mess up like that again." Archil says. "Being with our little cult brings

along its own set of dangers."

"Noted." Xandrian says.

"I have gathered all the gold, sir." Gilbert says. "We should be able to trade them for some

quartz so we at least have some currency to spend."

"Well done, Gilbert." Archil says. "Now, let us leave this hellish street and move to a warm

tavern. We all need a good nights rest."

"I am impressed, Archil." Axsel says in an echoing voice. Archil is standing on a white

plain, stretching infinitely. In front of him stands Axsel, in his weird, shimmering cloak. "Not

only did you find yourself a mage, you also saved his life by calming that woman."

"Why does it seem like you plan for everything?" Archil asks. "Xandrian told us that you

were the one to teach him magic!"

Archil never noticed this before, but it seemed he had trouble breathing on this side of the

rift. He always assumed to just be a dreamlike state, but it was more than that. It was a

physical plain were souls, beings made from interriftal energy, moved about as if they were

on Archil's own side of the interrift.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Axsel says. "It seems like you have only now realised that this is in fact

no dream. Yet it is not physical either. It is something in between. For one, the reasons that

breathing is difficult here, is because this place lacks air. You don't need to breath at all in

fact. Right now you are merely a being of energy. And energy can interact with energy,

allowing this place to exist."

"If it is so amazing, why would the gods look at our world instead?" Archil asks.

The fake god laughs. "Your questions do always intrigue me!" He says. "This world needs

nothing. We don't eat, drink or breath. We merely are. And simply being is incredibly

tedious and boring. That is all the primal gods can be since the explosion. The explosion,

you see, had the effect that beings of pure energy could no longer exist on your side.

Primal gods live fully on this side, incapable of doing anything more than watch.

Secondary gods however are born on both sides. We can visit your side through mediums

and vessels."

"Is our world really that more interesting than this world of wonder?" Archil asks, still

amazed.

"Only one god still fully resides on your side." Axsel says. "He is not very lucky however.

He is the one who made the Atracarian cities in the north. In ancient times, when gods still

roamed the physical realm. One god called Suntrius traveled to the stars after he finished

his grand marble city. There he found many worlds and places full of wonder. Arthfael

heard of Suntrius' travels and became enraged. How dare any god defy him by visiting the

stars first! Arthfael chased after Suntrius until they met in the deep empty void. Suntrius

told Arthfael about all the wonders he had seen, about the endlessness of this eternal void.

Arthfael did not listen however. He cast a flaming spear of energy straight at Suntrius.

Suntrius was still lost in amazement though and when he finally started to hurriedly make a

barrier to shield him it was already too late. The spear hit Suntrius and caused his own

energy to ignite in flame. All that the barrier he cast did was slow the burn and so who we

once knew as Suntrius is now the Sun. The Atricarians do in fact still pray to their god and

they even wish to die in his light."

"And what of the moons?" Archil asks curiously.

"What?" Axsel says. "Oh, no. Those are just massive rocks that reflect the Sun's light.

Now, back to business. That dragon you met, Laeth, he is one of the creations of

Sracdeen. It would have been nice to have him as an ally, but now that Xandrian fried his

nervous system that might be a rather difficult endeavour. The pressing matter now, that

we need people to rally to our cause. I suggest you travel to all the towns on Oliron and

convert their populations. Once that is done, our unholy war can begin."

The dream already starts to fade away, before Archil can even respond.

"Good luck, Archil." The fake god says. "I fear you will need it."

So it was finally beginning... A war of ideals is about to be unleashed on the worlds.

Archil wakes up early in the morning.

"War..." He thinks.

Gilbert walks into his room.

"You are already awake, sir?" He asks. "I was just about to wake you up. Xandrian thinks it

that we leave the city at once."

"Tell Xandrian that we will leave, when I finish up in town." Archil says. "A war is about to

start and we need an army to fight it."

"A war, sir?" Gilbert says confused. "The fake god spoke to you? I will go inform mister

Xandrian. You best get ready. If you are to have a speech, you best not look like some

dusty traveller."

"I know, Gilbert." Archil says. "Now go. I will be right down for breakfast. After a fine meal

we can resume spreading our resolution. What is on the menu?"

"Bread and soup, sir." Gilbert says, leaving the room.

Archil goes downstairs to get some food. The tavern is crowded today. It would seem like a

lot of people are in utter confusion, because of the burned and battered street. After

ordering a bowl of soup, Archil starts to listen. Again people speak of the decrease in food

left for the town and the increase of Goblins in this area. A few guards were killed during

the Goblin intrusion yesterday. Their bodies are disfigured and beyond recognition.

The soup is a dull meal and the bread is hard and dry. Archil, who is used to food for

nobility, is having a hard time eating it all, but he is slowly managing. After he finished the

bread and left half of his soup, Xandrien walks into the room.

"That is the best soup I have seen in years." He says. "You aren't going to finish it?"

"You can take it, if that is what you wish..." Archil says. "Their are enough people here. I

think I should get started."

Archil gets up and walks towards the deserted podium. Nobody is really in the mood for

music or otherwise. He clears his throat.

"People of Grimsby, I ask your attention for a mere moment!" Archil starts. He waits a

moment for the conversations to die down. "There are so many things wrong with this

world. Goblins raiding our streets, eating our food, killing our loved ones. A capital that

takes all and gives nothing. A rule that goes unquestioned and unhindered. Have our gods

abandoned us, now that even dragons are crossing our borders and scorching our

streets? I say, yes! Our gods have abandoned us completely. They don't care if we live or

die. They merely see us as amusement. They treat us like pawns in their little game,

throwing away our lives as if they were... worthless... meaningless. However, not all gods

see us in this darkened light. In our realm there are two gods that see us as humans, more

than as pawns. One is fake the other was man. Only one of them can save us. The other

we pray to. The fake god, Axsel, shall be our savior, where Arthfael shall be our undoing.

Lycon may have been human, but his hands are tied. He will not help us. Only that which

is fake can break invisible bonds. Only lies can destroy deception. Only hope can destroy

that what causes fear. Do we truly obey deception and fear? Do we truly want to be bound

to a god that would abuse us?We all know what happened to the vessels. Arthfael does

not see us as minions. All he sees is puppets. Only that which is fake shall destroy him

and through the fake god we shall be his undoing. Join our cause and help us build a

country of humans, not of gods. Not their world, our world!"

People look at Archil in utter amazement. They did not expect anyone here to speak out

against the capital they serve, nor the gods they prey to. Slowly Xandrien starts to clap. He

is joined by others and soon the entire room is cheering for Archil.

"We shall create the first empire that does not let itself be controlled by a god!" Archil yells.

"And more than one god there shall never be again." Xandrian says.

"Long live the fake god, long live the fake priest!" Gilbert cheers. Others quickly join him.

The normal people are already completely fed up with the Goblins and the capital. Archil's

speech might not be of the greatest quality, but it is exactly what these people need. A

reason, or maybe a person even, to follow towards the capital to save themselves from

impending doom.

"When the time is right and the other towns are informed of our plans, I will send for all of

you." Archil says. "Those who wish to join me, meet me at the city of Oliron once the

message arrives. Arthfael's tower has fallen. His throne shall be next!"

Having said that he turns and heads towards the exit. A loud applause follows Archil,

Gilbert and Xandrian as they make for the next town. Towards the east.

"Your little talk was effect, but what was all of that fake stuff about?" Xandrian asks. "Your

start was excellent, but then you started complaining about gods being our saviours and

our undoing. Maybe you should keep that stuff to a minimum next time."

"Our holy war is based on nothing more than some god telling us what to do, Xandrian.

Archil replies. "It isn't very logical and it never will be. That does not mean, however that

the people that would follow us do not deserve to know. It is the fake god that guides us

and that is what I will tell them. Gilbert, did you prepare supplies for our travels? The walk

to Southbank is short, but it pays to be prepared for the worst."

"Yes, sir." Gilbert answers hurriedly. "I went to the market while the both of you were still

sleeping." He lifts a big backpack into the air. "It's all in here."

"Good." Archil says. "Thank you, Gilbert. Now come along, it should take us no more than

two hours to arrive in Southbank."