Prologues

Prologue Forty

They walked along the canal while searching for food through the almost empty forest. For over a year, they had ran away from their master in the Six Towers, with his searchparties after them. Scary and malicious as the legend said about them, their skill wasn't a good factor since they had never found the runaway slaves. Because of this their Master was very angry at them and had doubled their price on their heads three times if they were brought to him alive.

"Look," said Dru - the leader-, pointing at a small field of grains in front of them. The slaves smiles sweetly even though the sweat was rolling down their bodies at the same time.

"Hurray. Finally something else than fish," smirked Pointy happily and ran towards the field.

They continued in a stroll and enjoyed the happy moment of food for awhile at least.

However, they didn't hear the searchparties hounds, dogs and screams at them who were several hundred feet away until it was too late.

It was a music slaughter; the company hurried for the final battle to end; the slaves for their long forgotten freedom. No slave was spared. Killed. Hunged. Speared.

Expect the little one, Pointy who had ran of in search of water. He didn't say a word and lay hidden when the searchparties rode away on their horses, holding his friends' heads in the air in triumph.

He didn't think anything else than he would avenge them forever and crush that peasant man who called himself Master of this land.