Post by Latei on Nov 12, 2009 3:48:16 GMT -5
Shifter
[/b]Prologue
There were over 1200 of them, well trained and well equipped. An army, made up not only of man, but also of the dreaded Necro-Dragons. Although they weren't truly dragons, they weren't even living creatures.
Necro-Dragons were created from the impenetrable hide of a true dragon, forged into a suitable shape, and then animated with the blood of the Phoenix. Combined with the disciplined soldiers, the Kan army was unstoppable. They brought war to the neighbouring countries in a campaign to extend their territories. Country after country fell, until the army faced the small country of Sarruth.
The Sarruth army was larger than the opposing forces, but not as well trained. It was made up of men who were fighting for their homes, their families. They had seen the devastation that had occurred to the defeated countries, and they were desperate for it not to happen to them. They had gathered together all the men they could, picked up their weapons and went out to stop the Kan.
They would have failed, if it had not been for the interference of the Creatures of the Forest. They had seen what had happened to the forests where the Kan had conquered. They had been set ablaze and burnt down, even to the last Druid Tree. Unlike the Creatures of Magic, who had hidden in the secret places known only to them, the Creatures of the Forest had no way to escape. And so, in a last ditch effort, they sacrificed their small amount of magic to aid the Sarruth.
On the battlefield, certain men found themselves with the ability to transform into animals of a similar nature. At the sight of their opponents turning into beasts the Kan, superstitious at the best of time, broke ranks and ran. All that was left was the Necro-Dragons, but working together Shifter and warrior were able to turn back the invaders. The Sarruth army had triumphed, but only with the help of the Shifters.
However when they returned home, the Shifters were not seen as heroes but rather as demons. No one knew why they could shift, or why it had only affected certain people. They were different, and so they were shunned. Driven out of the home towns where they were no longer welcome, the Shifters sought refuge in any way they could. The King, sensing the potential in the Shifters, created the Shifters Guard.
When the old King died, his successor decreed that it was illegal to be a Shifter without declaring yourself to the kings officials or joining the Shifter Guard. The Guard, as they became known, were tasked with hunting down other Shifters. However they often did not care if the accused was truly a Shifter or not, hunting down and tearing apart the unfortunate soul just for fun. They were brutal and ruthless, and made the people fear Shifters even more.
This story starts 100 years after the end of the war, a time when Shifters could be killed on sight.
Chapter 1
Crowds had always made him nervous. So many people, crowded so close together. All rushing about their daily lives like there wasn't enough time in the day. Jeth shuddered. It was suffocating. The noises, the smells, it was overwhelming his already enhanced senses. He had tried to stay away from towns as much as possible. Ever since that night, many years ago. Just being around this many people brought the memories to the surface. The buzz of the market place turned into the roar of a mob, calling for his blood. He could smell their anger, even through the smoke ...
'Get it under control!' Jeth pushed the memories away. Loosening his clenched fist, he found that his fingers had hardened into claws. 'Stupid! Stupidstupidstupid. Keep your mind on the task Jeth! Doing a full Shift in the middle of the crowded market place would be suicide' Jeth slowed his breathing, trying to control his rising panic.
Hiding his morphed hand in his coat pocket until he could get his emotions under control, Jeth pulled his hood down further over his eyes with the other. He needed to hurry up and find a blasted Weaponsmith and get out of here before someone noticed his eyes.
With every Shifter there was one part of their body that kept its animal form even when they were a human. For some it was a tail, or whiskers, or fur, for Jeth it was his eyes. They were large and inhuman; amber coloured with a slit pupil. The eyes of a Tiger.
Up ahead, Jeth spotted the Sword and Anvil sign signifying a Weaponsmith, and pushed through the crowds to reach the shop. His eyes adjusted to the dim interior, a sharp contrast from the harsh glare of the sun outside.
“With you in a minute” a voice called out from one of the back rooms. The small shop was almost empty, and allowed Jeth to regain his composure. Examining his hand, Jeth saw that it had returned to normal. Jeth took this time to take a look around the shop. While he had tried to keep out of the towns as much as he could, he had been to a few Blacksmiths in different cities, and this one looked no different to any of the others.
Behind the wooden counter there was a variety of swords and other assorted weapons, held onto the wall by carefully placed nails. There was a wooden door behind the counter, from which a middle aged portly man emerged.
“Sorry about that. Now, what can I do for you” The weaponsmith finished wiping his hands on a towel and turned to Jeth.
“I was looking for hunting knife, mainly to use for skinning animals,” Jeth avoided his eye contact, instead turning his face to look over the weapons on the wall, “The last knife I had was a gift from a dragon. It was dead useful, lasted for ages too. You wouldn't happen to have anything Dragon-made, would you?”
The Weaponsmith whistled, “A dragon gave you a knife? That's the first I've heard of one of them doing that! Jeez, talk about luck. What did you do to get it to give it to you?”
“Just in the right place at the right time. But do you have any?”
“Oh” His face fell, “No, I don't carry that kind of stuff. I pride myself on only selling blades that I've made myself. Plus, this town is too small, so the dragons don't normally come through here.”
“Oh, well than can you show me what you do have?”
The Weaponsmith was rather talkative, and seemed content to chatter on while Jeth was testing out the knives. He said that his name was John, and that he had a son who was training to be a Weaponsmith as well. In fact, the knife that Jeth chose was one that his son had made.
“So, where are you heading now?” He asked as Jeth payed for his new knife.
“I was thinking of heading West” Despite his stand-offish attitude towards the Weaponsmith, Jeth had enjoyed their conversation. Being alone didn't give him much in the way of conversation.
“How far West? You don't want to get caught up in those fires” For the past several days there had been smoke clouding the Western horizon, although the fire likely wasn't anywhere within Sarruth's territory, “Those poor bastards across the border are really copping it this season. First the droughts and now this. I'd feel more sorry for them though if we hadn't had that border dispute a few years back. At least it isn't us...You only wanted the one knife? Well then, I guess that's all. Hey, if you ever decide to come back into town, come back and see me.” John offered his hand.
“Sure” He had enjoyed the company. Jeth shook his hand.
And then their eyes met.