An End in Tyvale

Pale brown leaves float down to the ground
Burnt Amber fronds stir all around
Red maple grees filter the sky
Orange creped blades do fly

Everything makes a pathway to you
Finally to see the lover LaRue
We followed the long and winding trail
All the way out to the outskirts of Tyvale

There we found the cabin in the wood
By the cascading waterfall  it stood
Inside the cabin was a weeping girl
Long black hair and skin of pearl

On her bed a body lay perfectly still
The quest my maiden came to fulfill
LaRue lay dead in deep repose
Standing above was Marcus Rose

"Kill him!"  my mistress cries
I look at her with different eyes
The hate I saw steal over her being
Killed all the love I had been feeling

"Enough!" I said, my heart pounding
"No more killing will I be sounding!
You've broken my heart today
With you I will no longer stay"

"But you came a world away."
She pleaded.  "With you I'll lay
If you just smite this Marcus above
Who killed my one true love"

"I had no choice.  He came at me
With a dagger wielded, you see.
He wanted to attack my Zoe,"
Marcus ached, his spirit lowly.

The lady with long black hair spoke
"Marcus Rose, your privileges I revoke!
You are no longer welcome here
Never again will I have you near!"

My lady cried, "If you will not kill him,
I will!" And grabbed the dagger rim
Plunged towards the darkened Rose
Who disappeared before it hit his nose

Where did he go?  He had vanished!
Zoe knew and said he was banished,
Back to a library he could never leave
A hidden library forested in a greave

Only she could find it again
And she swore to never find it again
Marcus would be trapped forever
Only her love could release him ever

And that love was now gone away
Marcus confined would ever stay
Crying ladies filled the cottage with tears
So I did the only thing I could to fight my fears

I walked away and left them there
I left to go I know not where
The bitter end had come in Tyvale
And I would not stay and sit and wail.

Dragon Dispatch

Everything became dark
All the outcomes stark
The wingspan so immense
Nothing else made sense

We hugged the ground
As it soared around
The air itself turned very hot
The villagers screamed - a lot

"Shoot an arrow in to the underbelly!"
Whispering urgently, through the smelly
sulfuric ash, she place my bow in hand
The dragon still blotting the land

Quietly I pulled it back
Stealth I did not lack
Still I swear it heard me
Still I feared it would see

I got to knees and pulled it taut
The dragon heard and the sound it sought
But the arrow had gone soarin'
And had the dragon a-roarin'

As it carefully found it's part
Through the scales and into the heart
It's head turned and looked at us with hate
For us to run it was way too late

Crashing down from the sky
Right on top of you and I
And now my dearest darling bud
Our love is covered in dragon's blood

Pazoria

Gilded edges

Turn sharp and foul

West to the sea

There is no one but me

Pearled handles

Lie flat and dull

East to the mountains

There the lady reigns

                                 

Diamond necklaces

Hang loose and pale

North to the tundra

There wanes what I saw

Golden chandeliers

Swing shattered and squeaking

South to the tropic

There I became ill 

O Mylecia!

O Mylecia!
My gracious maiden arrive
Her quest is still alive
She clutches me by the hand
We can finally take a stand

O Spazen!
Greatest city of this mighty state
I pray we no longer have to wait
That we are now well past the city gate
And at the Red Inn we bide our fate

O LaRue!
Had we found my maiden's lover at last?
Was our quest now in the past?
Was my time with her done?
Was my reward the eternal shun?

O Justina!
I have served as best I could
Not just as I knew I should
But with all the depth my soul can reach
With every sermon that I could preach

O Mylecia!
I see her come towards us awash in blue
It is the lady that last saw LaRue
She who once loved the mighty Rose
She who our destination knows

O Red Inn!
She tells my lady what she does not want to hear
Our quest is not at an end I fear
LaRue has taken away this woman's son
Delivered him to an unholy one

O unending quest!
He has gone to a sorcerer who hides in Midia
To a barbaric land that is quite forbidia
There delivering her Rose spawned son
In exchange for golden money won

O Justina!
I am not to leave your side!
To Midia we will ride!
And this time I will dare
To my hand in your golden hair

O Mylecia!
I leave with the desire for just this
From her just one stolen kiss
And mayhaps she will forget this mad pursuit
And instead to my love she will recruit

Across The Graying Desert

I will never drink again
We will never see the end
Started the cross with maiden
and ten Iitifuls to us attend

Our trek across the Graying Desert
Our quest to reach Campia
Risking great disaster we flirt
She wants to reach the great sea Mylecia

Her lover to confront
Or rescue if case may be
She will not accept his cold shunt
Never would she listen to me

Across the graying sands we push
The Itifuls hear a might storm come
Before it starts there is an unearthly hush
And they decide to abandon the ransom

The scoundrels had planned for my poor maid
So now it is just us two
In an endless desert that will not fade
Facing anything I would for you

Though my lips are cracked and bleeding
I give her the last of my water
And if need be with what I'm feeling
I would give all my piss and blood for her

Everything I have left to give
I would with gladness give
I would with tearful joy give
Only that she may live

She stands in tattered desert robes
Her hair matted to her face
The transparent gossamer revealing her globes
Narrowed gray eyes determine to see her way out of this place

The sun is starting to reach it's height
We will be boiled alive
We do not want to give up the fight
We must not lose our drive

She pitches forward and falls face down
Like it or not, we may have reached journey's end
I fear that in this graying sand we'll drown
When suddenly to us a sound does bend

A horn announcing the coming of something
She grabs my hand and through the sand and grit
I feel the pulse of her vibrant soul, hear it sing
She hugs me tight as there we sit

Who comes next?  Who calls us so!
It could be bandits or warriors or merchant
In a few moments we will know
Until then, nothing to do but stay and plant

Whatever may head our way
She can count on me to stay
And defend her all the way
No matter come what may


Everything I have left to give
I will with gladness give
I will with tearful joy give
Only that she may live

In the Bars of Barre'

Stay away from me
The pain of your closeness is just too great
I just want to be free
Of the heartbreak that holds you strait

All the way from Port Seal
Into the heart of the Sonzobar
Into the Barre' town Ashsthil
Into the the Tavern called Kroner's Star

She searched for a man
Who was rumored to know
Of LaRue and his plan
Maybe bring us to show

My maiden was dressed to make him swoon
Only a red satin bra and tiny strap of a skirt
She thought it would be a boon
To open up the man and get the dirt

Instead it inflamed him
And he decided to take her
So he drew his sword and grabbed her limb
He though he would have his way for sure

He had forgotten about me
Who had defended across half the world
Blind love made her all that I could see
This fool would wind up curled

I struck him down
Grabbed his sword with my bare hands
I knocked him on his crown
Ground his face in the floor of sands

Thus degraded, he confessed to what he knew
Out came the destination
The plans of her lover LaRue
He was going to the Mylecian nation

Grateful, she pulled me into her seam
My hand against her back
Charged like an electric dream
My emotions began to crack

I am only her ally, nothing more
I told myself again
But that was not what my heart wore
It could not stop the pain

So please, I must defend you from a distance
I cannot get this close
That has to be my stance
I must remain morose

So tearfully, I repeat


Stay away from me
The pain of your closeness is just too great
I just want to be free
Of the heartbreak that holds you strait

Port Seal Rain Fall

It was a rainy night we came to port
Passing the guarding gryffin
I looked up and it caught me short
You stood at the edge of the bow in

nothing but a  white gossamer gown
revealing your pale white skin underneath
you stared directly out at the port town
your arms held out, together like a wreath

Across the Sea of Separation we had come
Having left Bellar two weeks ago
The stormy waters had left us weary some
But it wouldn't stop my mistress to show

up at this port, this Port Seal.
She would cross all of Barre' if she had to
this for her was all that was real
this dream to find the man LaRue

who took her spirit and then ran away
leaving her cold and empty, her longing eyes
staring out to the Sonzobarian continent where may
be the one who causes her endless sighs

she turns and sees me watching her.
Does she know I am as captured by her as she
is by the one she seeks?  I am her sir
and am devoted to her without need of fee.

But to watch there as she turns to me
Seeing her breasts clearly through the wet
gown that clings so fitfully
and to know they will never be met

with the love she holds for LaRue.
Nevertheless, I am with her, always, by her side
Until she sends me away with a shoo
And though it would break my pride

I would leave
Yes, I would leave
But once alone my tears would flow
My pain would forever grow

And the tears would be greater than the rain that fell
As they were when we came into the port that night
Greater than any abundant well
Greater than any could ever sight

Sonzobarian Shores

Where do I find you but underneath

and I leave my sword without it's sheath

set it down to hold your shaking shoulders

as fruit collides around like boulders

You retch again as the Lady Ezer rocks

The ship is buffeted by Rastarian Sea stocks

Large waves crash against the masted sailer

I do not think my maiden could turn any paler

Would he hold you as I am?

Would he wipe your mouth free of jam

and all the bile you've let come up?

Would he hold you all night and cup?

Cup his hand to catch your spew?

Hold you firm no matter what you do?

I don't think for this he would stay

I don't think for this he would give you the time of day

Into you my soul I would pour

And maybe you would forget about a Sonzobarian shore

Forget the quest towards the one you're looking for

Instead look up at the one whose heart does soar

Every time I look at you

Every time I think of you

Every time I pray to you

Every time I ache for you

A Prisoner in Lorang

I don't think I will ever see you again.
The gates of Lorang have closed tight
And I am now sealed inside it's pen
Far removed from the love of your sight

I long for the gentle rage of your touch
To swim with you in the Tolo River
But now I can only miss you so damn much
Just the dream of you makes me shiver

I pray once more to glimpse your sly smile
To dance as before the Pazoran invaders came
Instead I sit and stare and cry for awhile
Life without you will never, ever be the same

I vow though I may never again see your face
Always trapped now in this Lorangian cell
While you are dancing in a far way place
I'm left hearing my quickening heartbeat swell

And burst
Without you
Without the hope
That I will ever see you again

Crossed Hearts By The Rastarian Seas

What is it that you want from me?

Where is it that you want me to go?

I see you sheer in the moon light

Your creamy skin reflecting back in a pale glow

Your golden hair down in restless flow

The Rastarian Seas

Waves crashing at your knees 

How do I understand what you're after?

Why is it me that stands and awaits?

You turn your head slightly to look my way

Your eyes aflame in smokey gray

Your glance pulls me in as if to say

Come to Tyvale

Trust in me; we will not fail

Who do you think that I am?

Is there anything that I can possibly mean to you?

I see your eyebrow raised

Your quizzical grin draws me in

The look that puts my heart to spin

Western Sonzobar dreams

Across the seas we go, it seems

Do you care how I feel?

Am I only a guide, a muse, a tool to your ends?

I see you move to me, eyes burning

I search carefully for any signs of love

I pray to all the gods above

Should I cross all the ocean blue?

Only to deliver you to a man less true?

Rescuing Princess Charlotte

He carried the Sword of Strength, and rode on his trusty steed, Perzona.  He would not stop until he rescued her, no matter what it took, no matter what he had to endure.

He came from nearby Farentin.  He was the oldest son of the King of Farentin.  He was golden handsome, tall and strong, with chiseled chin and passionate blue eyes.  And he loved the Princess Charlotte, with all his heart and soul,  They had neighboring kingdoms, and they would often play in the castle gardens of Tyvale.  As they grew older, there would be hand holding and stolen kisses.  The fathers dreamed of a kingdom united once more.

But then the night of Princess Charlotte's 16th birthday, she vanished from the castle.  No one could find her anywhere.  The rumors became strong that she was taken away by Iitiful pirates, or perhaps an evil witch from Zanzibar.  Search parties went out, always led by the young Farentin Prince, always ending in failure.

Six months later, a message from a carrier pigeon was received, saying that the Princess had been seen far to the south, in the land of Rodan, in the company of the most foul witch on the planet. Esmerda the Evil, she was known throughout all the kingdoms.

With this information, the young Farentin prince, Martin, left out to find the Princess and bring her safely back.  The way ahead was treacherous, but Martin was determined to see it through.

The journey was distant and perilous, but that did not deter Prince Martin.  He rode across the Rider's Plain, defeating a herd of pursuing beasts, including a ten-foot tall great white land shark.

He lost part of a tooth, as he was jostled by eager shoppers in the land of Mysterling.  

He crossed the desert of Lambia, losing his precious horse, Perzona.  When he came out the other side, he was met by swords surrounding him.  He battled back with all his might, visions of the Princess kept him anchored.  No matter what the odds, he would not fail her.

He was scarred.  His beautiful sword was nicked.  His chain mail clothing was torn, and he was bleeding from a thousand cuts. But still he pressed on.

He was attacked by flying monkeys in the forests of Myceia. He slayed a dragon hiding in the mountains of Pazoria.  He was bone weary, and hurt in so many places.  But he could not shake the need to rescue her, of her falling into his arms, and then to begin their married life as they ruled the kingdoms together.

He finally came to the castle steps where it  was guarded by a band of Ogres.  And after getting through it all, he came to the kitchen of the witch's castle,

The evil witch is right in the kitchen, standing at the oven.  "OOO...company!, " she proclaimed.  "Would you like a fresh, hot, apple pie, right straight from the oven?"  She was older but not ancient, a little wrinkled but not pruny.  And she was a rich shade of sky green!

"Unhand her this instant, you hag!.  I've come to take Princess Charlotte home again."

"Charley!!!" she shouted.  "Prince Martin is hear to rescue you! "

From the room next door emerged the good Princess Charlotte.  She was now wearing jeans and a peasant shirt, and looked, well, annoyed.  She saw that it was the Prince.  A faint flicker of a smile crossed her lips.  "What are you doing here, Martin?  Are they still sending people out after me?"

He bowed before her.  "Princess, I have come to take you home, where you can become a great queen and pursue many womanly interests."

"Rescue?"  she scoffed.  "Who said I want to be rescued?  I am learning all the great spells and basic skills needed to wield the most powerful magics on the planet."

Confused, he said, "Charlotte, I have come so far, gone through so much, just to bring you back and to betroth you."

"Yuck!"  Charlotte said.  "I mean, I like you Martin, but that is the last thing I want to think about now.  I'm not her hostage.  I'm her student!" Charlotte and Esmerda smiled at each other. "So, begone, foolish man!"

Prince Martin left, dejected and defeated, never to see Princess Charlotte again.

The Nights of Zanzibar

A knight was travelling afar.
Across a land he knew not well.
Passing desert and mountains
forest and bogs
steppes and rivers
deltas and glades
legions away.

In the foothills of the Gormek
He saw a castle glimmering
He saw a light shimmering
Mayhaps, at last
Someone was there.

Up to the castle gate.
No one to stop him.
No one to warn him.
No one to shout, "Stop! I say!"

Through the castle gate.
Into a court yard overgrown.
The tawanga vine is everywhere

There appears from the tower
A ghostly light
An amber hue
Mayhaps, at last,
Someone was there.

He climbed the tower
His armor clanking
His breath becoming harder and deeper as he climbed.

He opened the tower room\
And there she was.
The most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.


Who was sleeping.
And snoring
Her bare feet sticking out from under the covers.

What would wake her?
Many had tried.
All had failed.

But this knight had a secret tool.
This knight knew.
The woman loved stories,.
She would wake from her centuries old slumber,
If only he told her the right story.

He had with him an extraordinary book
One with a thousand stories
And one of these would wake her
He just knew it.

The Nights of Zanzibar by Randyll Meriweather.
That was the book he brought
May be the only copy on Earth

He began'
"Far off the golden pathway. past the gardens of Raymthia,
there was a village of quiet dimensions, a place where magic would slip through."

Did she stir?  Was that a brief flutter of her eyelids?

Only time will tell.

Last Rose of Tyvale

I could see that no one was there.
The village was empty except for one stare.
It was the girl with the windswept hair.
Acting as if she didn't have a care.

She looked at me and curled a grin.
She took a hand and touched my chin.
I knew there was something I wanted to pin.
If only it wasn't such a great sin.

It was the last rose in all of Tyvale.
The locust plague had torn like a whale.
Chewing everything to dust and to dale.
Leaving only the crying to no avail.

But I picked it
I plucked it
I carried it
I brought it

To the last girl standing
The only one remaining
The prettiest in calling
The one I go dreaming

The last beautiful rose for the last beautiful girl.
It seemed only fair.
A sin worth bearing.
The last bit of beauty.


Before the darkness falls.

The Librarian of Tyvale

At the nexus of all worlds
At the conjunction of crosstime dreams
Was the world where it all collides -
Pazoria.

July 2 1503 AD
The ship El Profeta II
Went searching for Peter Rose's brother
Across the great unknown Atlantic
And wound up lost in -
The Saragossa Sea.

A mist came up
A whirlpool swirled
The ship crossed dimensions
Swept away, blown into -
Pazora Bay.

Overtime the ship and crew
Joined with the Pazoran tribe
And conquered an entire continent
From the northern Bay of Ice
All the way to the southern tip -
Forbidden Cape.

Peter Rose was not satisfied with being a conqueror
He wanted to find his brother
He looked for clues at the Rider's Plain
He traveled across the continent of Anima
All the way to -
Western Sonzobar.

In the land of Mylecia
Deep within Western Sonzobar
He found something more than his brother
He found the woman of his dreams
Princess Maris of the Mylecian city state -
Golthenia.

There she gave him a child
A strong, stocky, intelligent child
A child she called Marcus Rose
And he inherited his father's desire to quest and learn
That drove him to join a quest to -
Zyria.

And there he would learn the secrets
The secrets of where the "Europeans" like his father
Where they came from and how they got here
And how one might be able to go back
Open up the multiverse to exploration -
All the universes!

But then they met Marlyn Crodan
And he challenged the questors
Making easy work of them
Except for the challenge Marcus raised.
But even Marcus lost his struggle
And was banished to a distant land -
Tyvale.

And there he was trapped to a huge library and it's grounds
Unable to leave any farther
The only hope he saw, the only one who might break him free
He could only glimpse as she edged near
And pray that she would enter
And change his life forever as he lay trapped just beyond the -
Glen.

Escaping Through the Glen

A wintry cloak of fresh white snow
Covered the forest floor
A crisp clean lovely blanket of snow
Untouched by the  boggy moor

Through the forest lay the glen
In summer a wavy range of grass
In spring a buzzing nature's zen
In fall a hint of a decaying pass

But in winter it was just a solid white
A sheaf of purity ringing empty
Only the rabbit trails to sight
Leading to something beyond she could hardly see

She followed a fat gray rabbit to the other side of the glen
Her green cloak and garment covered to her knees
As she plunged down into the snow with each step
Then the rabbit disappeared into a small grove of trees

On she went, out the glen and through the grove
And there it was, an entry way carved into the side of a hill
A huge stone doorway that seemed closed to her forever
Until she reached out and touched the face of a carving on it

A carving of a bearded old man
With a long hooked nose
Protruding like a giant spoke of a fan
And this she caressed; why?  Who knows?

It slid open and she saw inside
A huge library she could see
All the books; nothing left to hide
She stepped through; there was no fee

The door closed behind her
She could hear the click of it's handle
A man decked in golden fur
Stood smiling by a warming candle

The Selection of A King

Red and green summer grasses hid the tough, tundra-like ground, which was usually bare during the plain's miserable, long cold winters. But during the summer, the grasses miraculously burst from the hardened earthen floor. Grasses high enough, that in many places, a tall man's head could not be seen above them.


In other places on the plain the grasses would not grow. Occasionally there would be a field of jomet flowers, whose seeds could be ground into grain, or a forest of meatwood trees, whose bark could be flavored to taste like meat, or dangerous bogs whose only value was to provide peat for fires. Occasionally there would be an area, kept carefully clear of grasses, where a village would lie, with sod houses for the poor and houses made of meatwood for the rich. In the larger villages, there would be a great building made of stone imported for Rizza and Mizza. One such of these large villages is the village of Tybia.

Tybia lies upon the great Crowland Plain, thirty lengths west of the capital of the Crow nation.

Three lengths north of Tybia are ten men. Ten men who must cross a high grassland, a field of jomet flowers, a bog, and a forest of meatwood trees to reach the village of Tybia. These ten men represent the ten major tribes that make up the nation of Crow.

Why did these ten men have to make this journey? At the moment, the nation of Crow was leaderless, its King killed in the war against the rebellious tribes of Daz, Boby and Firt. The problem was how to select another king without further dividing the remaining ten tribes that composed the Crow nation.

The sorcerers of the tribes met in the city of Crow and tried to resolve a method for selecting a King, a strong King, with force and power, gained in such a way that the other tribes would not object. They decided to set up a contest, where each of the ten tribes would send their own selected candidate to compete for King.

The contest would be to travel the three lengths of treacherous land to Tybia. It would begin at sunrise, and the first candidate to arrive in Tybia would be declared the King. The only rule was that a player could not go more than one quarter length either to the left or right of his starting position. Doing so would result in death.

It was almost sunrise.

They stood waiting in line, with mislke horses thick with black fur by their sides, waiting in a row like jockeys, waiting for the dawn to come, and for the fat sorcerer from Roby to clap his hands, their signal to start their deadly trek.

Joulin the Swift of Paz, Trax the Brave of Aoby, Lorth the Determined of Poby, Craler the Noble of Matavia, Femor the sly of Fu, Belo the Daring of Zunnel, Hask the Great of Zoby, Marto the Agile of Toby, Nebil the Tyrant of Rody, and Demar the Sincere of Crow, all waiting for the dawn to come, waiting for a chance to rule an empire.

The sun began to rise, its red light flooding across the grasslands just ahead of them. The two fat hands of the sorcerer came together in a loud whack.

Three men dived into the high grasses leading their horses behind them, and quickly disappeared into the thick mass. Three others tried to mount their horses and bull their way through the thick grasses. One of the latter group, Marto the Agile, went at a slower pace than the other two. When those two, Belo the Daring and Trax the Brave, had not gone more than twenty feet, Marto the Agile swiftly sang an arrow into each of their backs.

Four men stayed at the starting gate, hoping to stay behind and then merge ahead of the slaughter they felt was going on. Three of these men were involved in the conspiracy led by Craler the Noble. Craler the Noble was offended by the contest, and felt it a highly improper way to choose a King. He wanted to see a King elected by reason, not by force or arbitrary games. He thought the best way to mess up the contest was to have more than one person enter the village at the same time. He enlisted the aid of the two men he trusted the most, Hask the Great and Demar the Sincere, and they readily agreed to his scheme.

A half-hour passed, and then the three conspirators mounted their horses and charged into the grassland. Femor the Sly remained at the starting gate, making no attempt to kill the three, not feeling he had the capacity to kill all three swiftly enough.

Lorth the Determined and Joulin the Swift met each other in the deep grasses. Lorth fought with the bitter determination he is named for, Joulin was too fast. Lorth fell to the ground, a knife twisted into his gut. Joulin kneeled towards him and whispered, his eyes reflecting his sincerity, "I am sorry," but Lorth did not seem to understand. Joulin jumped up, found his horse and quickly left. Lorth was left alone to die.

"Why," he cried in anger, "must I die? I strived. I tried. I gave up everything to win. Is it not enough to strive, to try, to use all of one's capacities? What else must one do to become a victor?"

Lorth tried to pull his body across the ground, continuing to strive out of instinct. But it was to no avail. He had only gone a yard before he died, and that was in the wrong direction.

When Marto the Agile emerged onto the field of jomet flowers, he hid his horse in the grasses that adjoined the field. He laid down in the flowers, perfectly still.

A few minutes later, Nebil the Tyrant emerged from the grasses. Nebil climbed upon his horse but did not have a chance to spur it, as Marto shot an arrow through his skull.

Soon afterwards, Joulin the Swift came bursting out of the forest, already upon his horse, his arms gripping the neck of his horse. Marto the Agile rapidly fired three arrows at the speedy target, but they all missed. Marto exclaimed a Tobian curse word, retrieved his horse and gave chase.

Joulin raced across the fields, with Marto in pursuit. Soon Joulin came to the boglands. He could not afford to go slowly across this bog-infested land, so he threw caution to the wind, and swiftly flew his horse over and between the bogs

But fate caught up to him. His horse landed in a bog, and threw him headfirst into another bog.

Marto came in time to see the horse's head and Joulin's feet sink into the bogs. Marto chuckled and with a grim smile said, "Sometimes we go too swiftly for our own good."

Femor the Sly emerged from the tall grasses and looked upon the open field. He decided to go cautiously left. After going almost one-half length, he still could see no one. His plan was to secretly move out of the playing area, and move back in when he comes close to the edge of the forest. He proceeded to do this.

Arrows pierced him from several directions. Men emerged from foxholes to claim the body of Femor the Sly.

Now only four remained in the contest, Marto and the three conspirators. Marto hid in the forest, waiting for those who remained to come. He wanted to be the only survivor, so that he would be the clear winner, and have no snivelers after his crown. He crouched hidden in a tree, where he could see the entire bogland playing area.

The three conspirators moved swiftly, but cautiously. They had only seen three dead bodies, so they believed four others to be alive.

Marto saw them coming across the boglands. He let loose an arrow that stabbed Craler the Noble in the leg. All three jumped behind their horses. Demar the Sincere shot an arrow that shook and cracked the tree where Marto was hidden. Marto, with his great agility was uninjured from the fall, but not from the arrow Hack the Great sent through his side upon his landing.

The three conspirators came up to Marto. Demar asked, "Has anyone passed through here yet?"

"No," replied Marto, lying bleeding upon the ground, looking towards the sky.

"Do you know how many are dead?," asked Demar.

Marto did not answer. He was dead.

"May the gods of Toby find peace for ye soul," Demar spoke gentle. "Come, we must be off."

The injured Craler led the group, a smile on his face despite the pain. Hask the Great, riding behind him, slowly withdrew his sword and put it an angle to slice the head off of Craler the Noble. Hask started to gallop his horse towards Craler.

Craler the Noble heard galloping and then the sing of an arrow. He turned around and saw Hask the Great slumping upon his horse, with an arrow in his back, his hand grasping his sword. He looked further back and saw Demar with a bow in his hand.

"Demar!," said Craler, turning his horse to face Demar. "Thank the gods! You stopped the traitor from ending my life! Now come, let's win this contest and end these silly games for good."

"No," said Demar.

"What do you mean, no?"

Demar started to withdraw an arrow from his quiver. "There will be only one King." Craler tried to defend himself but it was too late. An arrow penetrated his chest and went through his heart. "Me."

Demar the Sincere became the King. His rule resulted in the secession of all the tribes except the Crow, and this is the state the Pazorians found the island of Crowland.

The Pazorians, controllers of a huge continent, had never before heard a tale of such vicious competition. The only thing they could think of that remotely compared with it was their universities and schools. But of course, these institutions always produced good results.

Didn't they?


Another story I wrote in college.  If only I had thought to make them younger and call it The Hunger Games.