The City (standard:travel stories, 8406 words)
Author: Bloodonfire	Added: Nov 13 2010	Views/Reads: 3011/1875	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A group travels towards their doom in a tale of sinister delight.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

4 

My own experience with the City began on day 21 of the tennth month of
the millionth year. (Our timelines are rather long, and we've had a 
million decadas, and thousands of centuries.) At the time, I was 
residing in Trivian, a smallish citidel one hundred fifty miles to the 
south of Port Elain, the port of call for many sailors from the Elayne 
Shire Province. It was hotter than hell about two hundred degrees, with 
a slight mild breeze fluttering while the paraders screamed and cheered 
as Chancelcer Tabin passed in his heavy metal carriage. 

I was sleeping in my compartment in the Port's Lower Quarter when my
friend and Fellow Matthiew pounded upon my door. “Get up, friend 
Althius, you must, for today is that of celebration!” he practically 
screamed at me through the door. I had been doing some studying the 
night before, reading some obscure text on the lost civilizations to 
the Far East of Elayne Shire. I rose from the chamber bed, worn from my 
studies. “What is so special that you would wake me up at this ungodly 
hour? Explain.” I said. 

“Friend Althius, we are to speak to the Lorids of Elayne. Remember that
I am now appointed steward of the Charts, and my first assignment is to 
make Nuevial a free nation, so that we can speak to those who hold 
Nuevial by chains?” We had long been wishing to fulfill the aeons old 
myth that Nuevial will be made a nation. The one nation in the League 
of Tiearra Tchcotia Nations that held our territory for themselves was 
Vesuiz, a free nation that sought the mines to the East of the Province 
of Elayne. Before we could become a nation, the Council that came up 
with the proposal in the Shyre, long ago in the legend, had to submit a 
series of explorations, and nearly all of them were said to have been 
done. All of them except for a medium sized region known to the 
Chartmaster as the Dark Lands. It is said that nearly all the parties 
that went to explore that region never returned, due to death and 
misfortune. It is of my belief that those died because of the mirth of 
wine that is reported to be abundant in that region. 

5 

“I suppose you watered a chance to see if I would join your little
excursion, am I correct?” I asked. “Yes, absolutely. I need you to 
appear in the Royal Court to testify as to my character. You know the 
procedure as well as I do. Tabin and whoever is present, most likely a 
Lorid, will probe you well, to see whether the mission is worth the 
risk, and then let us proceed if he is satisfied.” “And if he is not 
satisfied, then what?” I asked with considerable doubt on my mind. “We 
still go on. It's really a formality, and you my Fellow, know the Law 
as well, even more than I do. These trials are really not important if 
we want to become a nation.” 

“Matthiew, comparing the dangers to the results, what good will it be if
we proceed and come across dangers that hinder our success?” “We will 
still triumph over these so-called dangers. It's land that hasn't seen 
inhabitants, as far as common knowledge is concerned.” “Common 
knowledge is nothing compared to the real thing, Friend Matthiew. This 
is uncharted lands, no one in our lifetime knows what may hide there.” 
“Friend Althius, my success will be determined by you of course. I owe 
it to you everything I've done.” “I suppose I'll go ahead with you on 
this. Everyone in Nuevial wants to break free from Vesuiz.” 

“My Friend,” I said. “How unusual you are, when it comes right down to
it. Just tell me this, though. This is no joke?” “No, my good 
gentleman, this is not a joke. I assure you that I am not in the manner 
of joking at the moment,” he said to me. “Good, now when are we to 
appear before the Prinicpal Chancelcer Tabin?” “As soon as you are 
ready, Brother. Now, we must hurry along. It's not polite to keep 
important men waiting.” 

6 

“The Chancelcer will see you now, kind sirs,” said the poitier. We went
into the Antechamber. Castle Trivian was impressively adorned, with 
Slatin upholstery, golden seams pouring out wherever the eye looked, 
silver silverware at the dining hall, beautiful porcelain dishries at 
the long hal-tables, hand-crafted woodwork  had appeared before us in 
amazing splendor, a candidacy for artistry many had never seen. I was 
surprized to see how well kept the castle really was, for it age was 
well beyond mine at the time.  I was even more surprised to hear the 
Gargoyle speak to us, through the magic of the Castle. 

“Walking in these hallls,” the magic Gargoyle began. “Men of young age
who seek to wander in footsteps of old, they are travelers. But beware, 
for danger lies thy way. Now speak thy names before me to enter into 
the next chamber. Passage beyond me is limited to permissions by the 
Lorid of Elayne Shyre.” “I am Matthiew Deseault, and this is with me, 
Fellow Althius Grabould. We were summoned nigh to speak before 
Chancelcer Tabin DesChayne of Port Elain. I speak,excuse me, We speak 
the Word “peace and tranquility to the territory of Nuevial.” 

“Enter, for thou have spoken the Word. But be wise, for thou will lose
thy head if thou are not careful. I trust you, and as such, I expect 
you to follow the policies of our territory. Truth passes within this 
room, a room of justice, law and order, and the prosperity of Nuevial. 
Be at peace, Sons of the Golden Light.” “Thanks be to thee, good 
Spirit,” we said to the Gargoyle. “And to thou, thou may now enter.” 
And so we did. 

7 

I was unprepared for what awaited us. If the rest of Castle Trivian was
beautiful, then the Lorid's Counsel was immeasurably decorated. Inside 
was the Principal Chancelcer, Tabin, and also, to our enjoyment, was 
the Lorid of the Shyre Elayne, Halig Romanu. “Please be seated in the 
chairs before thou,” said Halig, his voice deep and careful. 
“Gentlemen, thou wish to establish a party to explore the lands that 
haven't been charted before. Why?” asked Tabin, his voice forced, and 
concerned. “We plan to submit our findings to Matronx, and establish 
Nuevial as a independent nation,” replied my Fellow. “Further, we were 
assigned to this task by the Counsel of Enchiant, who held a position 
for an exploration. We are funded by Master Bregan himself to lead a 
group of twelve to document and chart the lands to the immediate East 
and North of Lisabec. As I understand the Law of Nuevian Territory, we 
must submit to a screening by the Lorid from where we depart from, in 
this case being Lorid Halig of Port Elaine.” 

“Thy understand that before thou proceed we need to hear from thy
friend?” “Correct, Chancelcer. Therefore, my Fellow Althius will 
present his opinion.” “This is correct, Fellow Grabould?” “Absolutely. 
I can attest to my fellow's character.” “Then we may proceed with no 
further delay.” My Fellow Matthiew turned to me and winked. “Go on.” 

8 

“State thy name.” “Althius Mestoult Grabould of Provice Port and Shyre
Elayne, Nuevial Territory.” “Age?” “Seventy-five years of age, sire.” 
“Thank thee. These questions we ask are not to be uttered or written 
until after the quest thou seek is through. May we have your word that 
thou will not speak to anyone else regarding this trial, until such 
time as the exploration is complete?” “I give you my word as a scholar 
of Law, that I will not publicize this trial until the time permitted.” 
“Then we proceed, Gentleman Althius. Of what temperment is your 
friend?” 

“Matthiew is of a relaxed but firm nature. He is dedicated to his work
and appointments. He will not threaten a soul unless further aggravated 
beyond the point of which reasoning is not met. He goes out of his way 
to be diplocratic.” “Thanks to you. How often has Master Matthiew 
fornicated or laid with another?” “He has not had relations with the 
female creature very often, but occasionally will take it upon himself 
to accompany one to the bed for a night of pleasure. He separates 
pleasure from employment.” “So Matthiew is not an inhmuan sort. Does 
he, or has he, killed a fellow brethren in cold blood, in this or any 
other territory?” 

“He has served his share of time with the Nuevian Armed Territorial
Service sire, but has rarely gone out of his way to kill brethren. His 
kills were of necessity, and under strict observation, including mine 
own. Those he killed were considered a threat under our Law, and 
executed unreasonable fellows.” “So in your opinion, is Fellow Matthiew 
loyal to the causes of Nuevial and her pursuits? That he will uphold 
our values from his home of birth, Port Elaine?” “It is of mine opinion 
that Fellow Matthiew, of Port Elaine, is loyal both mentally and 
physically to the causes of Nuevial, and wishes to make the best of 
creating a nation of pride.” “Very well,” said Halig. “We will 
deliberate. Please wait outside the hall while we confer.” And we did. 

9 

“All peoples of the Provice of Port Elaine and Elayne Shire! From within
this castle, we proclaim that a party, led by Fellows Matthiew Desault 
and Althius Grabould, will leave from here to persue the legend that 
has hung around our heads for thousands of centuries, our dream of 
becoming a nation will become a reality. They are to explore that one 
region many fear, not out of selfishness, but out of loyalty for 
Nuevial. They will remain brave in the face of dangers imagined since 
the first parties left for that land to never return. Our original 
founders perished then, and it is upon us to fulfill their quest. 
Fellow Matthiew has been ordered by the High Order to keep the bargains 
his ancestor, the late Lorid Andrel Descheault, the first Lorid to 
settle Lisabec, and then attempt to tame the wilds that were uncharted, 
and unknown. 

Lorid Halig's people uttered one collective gasp. “Going with him will
be the finest Law Student and Historian Port Elaine's ever produced, 
Fellow Althius, and twelve others and a guide from Enchiant. They will 
bring our history to Matronx, and become victorious in their quest in 
making Nuevial the nation we set out to be thousands of years ago!” All 
the peoples went wild, the cheering crowd loud enough to drown out any 
opposition. “It is our wish that this party will go beyond our borders 
of safety to reach success in the lands of darkness, and lighten a 
mysterious region!” 

“Their task will be a dangerous one, for the only outpost away from our
One Hundred Mile Zone of Safety, is the debauched citidel of Droardia, 
in the far interior near our border with mighty Calidor. Between 
Enchiant, our capital-City and the City of Droardia, there is empty 
space waiting for our expansion into the unknown. May your hearts, both 
of you, both brethren and team, be enlightened and wise on thy journey. 
May you find peace in the dark. We wish your services do not go in 
vain. Speed of the One, the Lorid Over All, peace in which you have 
come to this world, depart the same way.” 

10 

Within two days of preparation of our exploration, we left our home for
the last time that year in the dark of night, through the open and 
mourning gates of Elayne Shyre for the Council of Matronx. Such a 
peaceful departure, it was then, compared to our eventual ensnarement 
and the bleak future ahead of us. We didn't know that it was to be a 
doomed expedition, but it happened all the same. We left riding in our 
motored metal carriages, watching as field of golden-yellow grain, in 
abundance in our portion of the world, passed us by at a leisurely 
pace. 

We traveled only fifty miles between Trivian and the Ports on the Great
Salty Sea, and the capital-City of Enchiant, this being the first day. 
When we arrived we watered down on the sweetale, a malty sort of drink 
that I loved. There we asked to see Council of Enchiant, presided by 
Lorid Erthur, and Master Bregan. They welcomed us with open arms, and 
spoke of mythy gossip, and alarmingly fantastic tales. Lorid Erthur 
spoke with a rather excited, enthusiastic voice. 

“Brethren,” he said. “Surely this is great and wondrous news that you
wish to document the regions beyond. We know that this is a historic 
moment in our time, as we needed to document everything before, but 
mysterious things occurred. Of course, you shall have the best of our 
guides, a rather bold and attractive woman named Brigyta Nesan Morine. 
She is the most responsible one I can hand to you. In fact, she 
requested to specially accompany you. I hear her coming.” 

In walked the most handsomely attractive woman I have ever met and only
five years my junior, and very beautiful. She had a reasonable height, 
and I could tell that her beauty was worn along the edges due to her 
rough handshake, her tight mouth and fiery blue eyes, her 
reddish-yellow hair the very least of her beauty. She looked at 
Matthiew and I, and spoke. “Thou are either fools or brave to search 
those lands. Beyond Lisabec, the trail get morbid, and dark. I have 
traveled there myself only to within the forty miles of darkness, and 
nearly made it back alive. There are not good things there, so be 
forewarned; suicide will be appealing before long, especially in the 
Blackwood Forest and it's heirs. Go get those who will explore with us 
and rest. You have a long time to think about, and a long dangerour 
journey ahead.” She turned and left, with me staring at the back of her 
head, her hair waving in the wind. 

11 

“She is very wise for her age,” I said. “Aye, she is young, but she has
also been to Droardia, which notable for it's bizarre tales of a dead 
city that disappeared years ago to rise in the last one hundred years. 
It is a hellsome city, they say.” “Oh, why do they day that?” “See for 
yourself. When you leave this city, you will find that forty miles of 
darkness, a zone always in the blackness. Death and evil madness are 
within. Just beware of passing Droardia. Not many go into that area and 
return to tell happy thoughts. Stay on the path.” 

I found out that and more when I later stumbled into that hellish city
near Droardia. We left Enchiant towards Droardia to make our main leg 
of our journey. Not even a mile away from the limits of the City of 
Light, we became encased in a two mile area of jungle, and at the edge 
of it, a naked girl of seventy-one approached us with an awful tale, 
pointing to the other side of the wood. I stopped the carriage to see 
what was the matter when she launched into her story. Her chest was 
perky, firm, that much I could see, and I kept all reserves of my lower 
brain to a minimum, as the girl was very pretty. I looked down her body 
to see that she had a slight patch of fur in that one spot few fail to 
dream about. “Please sirs, I need help. Do you know how to defeat a 
witch?” she asked. “A witch?” I asked, but was cut in by Morine. “Let 
me see what kind of witch. There are a few ways.” “She cast dagwolfs in 
our town when my father refused to help her. I was bathing at the time, 
and there's no one to assist me. She destroyed my home.” “We will take 
care of this witch,” I assured her. 

12 

The witch was beautiful, and seventy-three years of age, and
enchantingly cunning. Not only had she punished her father and 
destroyed the home of the poor girl, but also put fear into the lives 
of the villagers and made the peoples afraid of assisting the two 
unfortunate people. Then she set the dagwolfs on the town to teach 
those who helped the girl a lesson. Matthiew pulled me aside. “Althius, 
this may not be easy...” “Since when has anything been easy around 
you?” I asked. “I didn't expect to save a village from a witch. Witches 
are powerful, and easily angered, Fellow Althius.” 

“What do we do then?” “Well, we better hope that this woman knows what
she is talking about, because to fight a witch, you need to be even 
more powerful, or terribly cunning.” “You expecting to find a mage 
then, Fellow Matthiew?” asked the woman Morine. “No. You'll do, I 
suppose.” “Please, help our village, she may destroy it within the 
day,” said the girl, whose name was Vefina. She told me her father was 
the leader of Gorba Village, and that the witch came from “beyound 
Droardia.” 

“I will personally assist in ridding your village of this witche,” I
said, meaning it. What can I say, this woman entranced me. “Be careful, 
Fellow. She is a dark witche.” “I will, girl Vefina. I make a pact for 
your safety.” You might say that I had feelings for the girl, but I had 
other problems to deal with. Our party set out to the hut of  the 
witche, which was set out in a patch of forest surrounded by dim 
darkness of magicke. 

She stood outside her doorway, loosely dressed peering into a crystal
ball she held. “You seek to destroy me, that much I can see, but fools 
ye be to meddle with a witche. I could cast darkness and doubt in ye 
hearts, but I prefer not to,” she looked up at us from her glass. “I am 
Danna, of Bizmaricke, a vast city in a vast land beyound Droardia.” 
“Thou have cursed a village with the Dagwolves. Why?” asked Matthiew. 
“The leader of this Hutlet refused my services. I wanted to help him, 
but he said that magicke is evil, according to the customs of Gorba. 
Ha! He knows nothing of evil.” “Witch!” cried Morine, our guide, and my 
eventual lover and companion. “Thou decieve us! I see through trickery 
and lies, your powers of persuasion are weak and baseless.” “Foolish 
youth-woman, adventuress, filthy peasant girl! You dare to challenge 
me, a mastress of magicke?” “I challenge you because I am more powerful 
than you, you foul'd witch. I demand that you leave!” said Morine, in 
the voice of the Ancients. 

13 

“O Great Saloun, Lorid of Darkness, come to thy mistress's voice, rid
this land of these pest-fools, they dare to challenge me! Destroy these 
enemies!” cried the Witch Danna. A storme brewed around us, and soon 
light cracked from the sky and struck one of the expeditioners. “She 
killed Carlosse!” screamed another. “I shall kill more of you unless 
thy let me be!” she screamed. “No, you must stay and slay her!” 
screamed Vefina. “She will lay our village to waste. Stop her!” 

“Brat-woman, meddling with me. I will make you my first sacrifice! I am
an ancient. You will go to my domain to die! Your curse has not taught 
you anything. What a shame.” The witch laid a finger on her glassball, 
and spoke darke words. I rushed to attack but Matthiew had already 
gotten to the witch and knocked the glassball from her hands. The witch 
screamed with fury, frustration in her cries echoed through the 
darkness.  She turned into a wolf before our very eyes. Morine, our 
guide woman, pulled out a hand-pistol, aimed, fired and hit the witch 
dead in the heart. 

“Silver bullet?” the witch cried. The witch raised her hand sluggishly,
and Morine fired again. The Witch was dead! I can still see faintly a 
trace of the witchly form of Danna whispering before us those many 
years ago and then always vanish from sight forever, to this day. For 
the people of Gorba Village, the phantom witch from afar, who had 
terrorized the village disappeared and never cursed them again. Gorba 
Village rejoiced as the dagwolfs, which are ghostly being enchanted 
with life to do whatever they please, (And there are degrees of 
dagwolves.) vanished. 

14 

“Heroes they be! We must accept them and place them among our own
legends. We are thankful to live as we owe our lifetimes to these noble 
explorers, these explorers who have never experienced our suffering, 
until they stumbled upon us. Pray to the Gods, for they have sent these 
fellows to us, to pass their own certayne rites of initiation to test 
them on their journey. We are fortunate to have met them, now more than 
ever! And if they pass by Gorba in times ahead, we must give privileges 
held only for us to them!” said leader Vallah. 

Gorba Village was in celebration. For many moons, they lived in fear,
isolation, and extreme poverty, they were undernourished, and stank of 
age, even the young. They were therefore finally free, all on account 
of a expedition surveying towards an eventual demise. And thus while 
celebration occurred, there was plenty to see. I still faintly remember 
when the girl Vefina attracted as she was to me, pulled my to the side. 
“Friend Althius, brave expeditioner thy are, would you love me, lay 
with me? I dreamt of a man of your attributes, having thy naked warmth 
beside me, while we were in the fruits of love.” 

“Dearest girl, although you are not doubt attractive to me, my heart
rests among another.” “Who shall this be, my love?” “One who has 
strength, power and knowledge. I am a scholar, and I cannot love you.” 
, “But why not? Aren't I not goode enough for thou? Doesn't my boxum 
(buxom) appearance entice you?” With that she smiled seductively, but I 
was not amused. “To sayest the truth, child-woman, I cannot tell you 
what you want to hear.” With that, with tears in her eyes, she walked 
away. 

15 

I knew it would be impossible for her to understand, to comprehend, and
was not surprised when another woman's hand touched my arm, so very 
delicately. I looked to my left and saw the calm, placid face of Morine 
beside me. “She has lots to learn, Vefina of Gorba.” “That she does, 
guides-woman,” I replied. “Of all the foolish explorers in this party, 
thy are the only one who will not fear anything. That shows strength, 
and plenty of women adore strength. Even bitter women like me. I admire 
a man who doesn't stop to entice death or fear it by resorting to 
stupid measures of superstition.” “So, you are saying that you love 
me?” 

“I do admit-est so. A handsome man does not go without a companion, and
I know that I am the one for you.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw 
movement. It was my Fellow and Friend Matthiew and Vefina, arm in arm, 
smiling, laughing, their teeth glittering in the early sunset. “Let us 
watch. Friend Matthiew is now caught in her web. This shall be 
interesting.” They entered a hut in the village that sheltered a form 
of sacred mystery. It was explained to me later to be the Release of 
the Gods, where a couple could be permitted by the father of the 
village to make love. 

She laid down, naked, and Matthiew laid on top of her, removing his
damned trousers in the process. We watched from small patches made in 
the hut designed for the village to see the conception of their future. 
He stood up in front of the crowd by the walls, and showed off his 
massive, erect member. She reached around and grasped it so firmly, it 
was nearly painful to see. They pulled close, and he entered her. 
Screaming with ecstasy on the floor, they mated and consummated a 
marriage that would forever (as much as I can see) doom them to death. 
She bucked to and fro, matching his thrusts. 

16 

“Thou knows what you saw Althius. It is only natural to harbor jealousy.
It is a human emotion.” “As natural as my love for you Morine.” “And I 
for you. However, it is not the time for us to couple as they couple. 
The fates deem them to misery, and will not allow us to mate just yet. 
You were destined to doom your friend by rejecting the girl. That is 
why you were chosen by the gods to continue this exploration. He is the 
ambassador of goodwill, and when he dies, he will be a saint, and one 
of the gods. Your true task will be revealed to you, as well as mine, 
only when the time is right. Most likely at the end of this miserable 
quest. Everything does happen for a reason.” And honestly, I am glad 
that I believed her. 

Matthiew and Vefina laid next to each other, her breasts matching her
breathing. I watched as her hands sifted up and down his massive male 
member, while his hands explored her naked body. From her pale rose 
shins, fingers caressed her flesh, bringing near-orgasmic sighs from 
her. Slowly he passed her knees, onto her thighs, towards her rosy 
fleshy slit. As he neared her sex, he gently lifted her leg out of the 
way. He then rubbed her slit a little more, then finally entered her 
with his ring finger into that soft fleshy underworld. 

She gasped loudly as he entered her nudity, and her hands left his
member to protect her busom. Her pink puffy nipples stood up, and then 
he left her sex to grab those breasts. He raised his mouth to those two 
fleshy mounds and suckled them. Her breathing became faster, more 
rhythmic. He shuffled beneathe her and plunged the tip of his man-hood 
deep within her sex. This lasted for a half-hour, when his seed was 
finally planted in her, leaving his one lasting mark on Gorba Village, 
on it's last most sacred day. 

17 

It was our time to depart, and so we left with Vefina never leaving
Matthiew's side. Gorba Village became a distant item on the past 
horizon as we continued our journey to the darkness that would surely 
await us. It didn't take long before we came across a stream with a 
golden field on the one side, and a vast, dark forest on the other. 
“That is the Blackwood Forest,” said Brygyta Nesan, my Morine. “A 
pocket of darkness in a world of light. An outpost for the ruler of a 
forbidden City. Beware ye that enter these lands, for the Spydiers 
attack all forms of life.” 

A sobering thought, thought I. I looked to the left and saw shadows
moving. “Spydiers? Myth!” said Richards, a nobleman. “Not so, fool! 
Spydiers are deadly, hybrids of that which once ruled the World. They 
are the cursed descendants of the Arach-king, a tyrant from these 
woods. The trail to the Uncharted Lands goes through this forest, to 
Lisabec, then the Ten Mile Wilds, then Droardia, which is the last stop 
before we head north. That is what you agreed on, right?” 

“Woman, thou speaks the truth,” said Matthiew. “Then, if we are to go
around?” “Not possible. The Drakssen Mountains cap the north of the 
forest, and there are wicked things on the slopes. And the Wildlands to 
the south harbor vicious beings that you would not dream of. Either way 
we go, we could end up with less of us than there is now. We must stick 
to the course, or turn around and call off the mission. Your choice. 
There are things that are more deadly than in the forest.” “Such as?” 
asked one of the party. “Such as Scorpios, Vultures, Gnashers to the 
north.  And Rapters, and Scalers to the south.” “We go on our way, 
Morine.” “Then it is so.” 

With that our expedition entered the Blackwood Forest, so named because
when the early peoples of Tiearra Tchcotia first arrived in the area, 
the wood for about a mile more in all directions was valued for it 
Blackwood, which was of course Blackwood Black colouration. The 
original city of Lisabec is all that remains of the great towns that 
used the Blackwood Black wood from an era of some one thousand years 
past. (According to the Historians Log in Port Elaine, there are some 
disputes as to the activities that conspired against those early days, 
due to lack of proper evidence and verification, though credibility can 
be found in record burnings some five hundred years ago.) 

A great many unknown creatures live  in this macabre forest, and not
surprisingly we encountered many that were of or had more intelligence 
than previously considered. Mokey, a humanoid, lower-level range 
humanoid, to be exact, though deemed to be cute by Vefina, were in fact 
vicious, conniving little buggers. Two hundred  feet into the forest, 
one had been bounding on the trail, and she screamed in adoration. 
Morine hissed, and the girl fell silent. I looked for a moment, 
observing it's quiet, hostile nature. 

It looked at us curiously at first, before it then ran a couple of
person-lengths and screeched. Soon the Wood became alive in calls. A 
troupe had gathered before Morine shot into the air. The mokes 
scattered, and as we went on, I believe they glared at us. We went a 
hundred paces more before the trail thinned considerably, and trees 
were more aggressive. I heard the sound of a growl, and one of us had 
been taken, bones crunching, forcing us to move a little more faster so 
that the Blackwood Forest could decide to claim another. 

19 

And the Wood did. A mile or two later, a break was called, and we set up
camp to rest for the night, on account of it getting dark. A soldier 
that was a part of the group broke off the path to relieve himself. 
Apparently a Boear attacked him and followed him to camp. “WHAT DID YOU 
DO?” Morine screamed. “Nothing. I whipped my cock out to take a piss, 
and it swiped at me!” he said, cupping his member. The Boear appeared 
and ripped his head off, before then raising it's paws and told us not 
to shoot, as it saw Morine and I preparing to defend the camp. 

“Don't shoot!” it yelled. “You talk?” I heard someone ask. “Of course I
talk. All who live with the Trees talk. Your man came near my home, and 
I scared him off a bunch of feet, but I forgot that I scared him into 
my den. He proceeded to kill my cublet out of anger, and left. I just 
saw it when I chased him. I was just protecting the Forest.” “That's 
okay. We don't let idiots live anyways. His story was sounding 
concocted.” “Boear, since you know this Wood, could you assist us 
through it?” asked Matthiew “Hmm...I'm not sure that is wise, 
Little-One.” “Why is that?” I asked. 

“You are on the path of Darkness. It is not wise to travel much farther
than Lisabec. Not many men use the Old Droardia Trail. They tend to 
take the mountain bypass. The reason being that this was supposed to be 
cut off from the route to the Uncharted Region, as it passes through 
the Forbidden City, the name of which is not spoken. That city is 
tainted with the blood of women. If you cross through, go straight 
through. Do not watch the events. No sane man must see that coliseum. 
If you want my advice, take the long way to the Uncharted Land, because 
it enters that region through the Mountains of Calidor, California. 
That is my wisdom,” said the Boear, named Zjachk. 

“We will consider that once we reach Lisabec. Our policies state that we
must be accompanied by Militares while in Calidor.” “Probably should 
take a couple Militares from Lisabec. Not from Droardia. They are in 
short supply there.” “Well then, let us not tarry from our course.” The 
Boear came with us, but he did a bloody well job of keeping us safe. 

20 

The next day we logged a three mile trek through a large lake country in
the approximate center of the Wood. As we finally course the last leg, 
a pair of Spydiers  attacked us and killed two of our men in a quick 
procession. Spydiers stand half a mans height tall and their leg reach 
twenty feet in the air, roughly three times a mans height. Morine shot 
legs, or limbs, appendages, whatever they were, crippling them. (Making 
her extremely unhappy as they were fast, high, smart, and her 
ammunition was low.) She screamed in anger as one closed in on her, I 
just whacked it in the head with a rock five feet away from her. She 
told me to attack the other one with a grende, which exploded the 
forest, us ducking on the ground as another man died. The forest was 
silent as we finished our way, with seven men in the party, plus two 
ambassador's and two women, and of course, the Boear. “I must depart 
now, and take hellish demands from Blackwood Forest for my services, 
that is our Law, but we will meet again.” 

We entered Lisabec worn, battered and fatigued. Gone for a fortnight,
and still there's more to this tale. Ten miles away we saw the Forty 
Miles of Darkness surrounding not Droardia, but that hellish City. 
Lisabec is a trading outpost from the fiftieth century, twenty decades 
before darkness came. It was a dark time with great uprisings. But 
Lisabec and a few others survived that aeon. And the people of Lisabec 
welcomed us with passive glances, unsure of whether or not we could 
pull this off. 

21 

Ancient Lisabec is divided in two; Inner Central Lisabec, or Lizabek,
and Outer Lisabec, where prostitüts, though frowned on in their 
society, are left to their own devices. Inner Central, on the other 
hand, is the more classy, built up, and futuristic. And expensive 
Golde, rare items, understandably, go for well over a million päpers. 
We made our way to the Council, where we were told to “make merry 
(Mary? Or marry?)” And we did. 

“You are going beyond Droardia. Why?” “We are doing what the old ones
were unable to accomplish. We are to chart that last spot that hasn't 
been reached from this side, due to it's isolation. We wish to persuade 
Matronx that our findings are finished.” “They wish to explore that 
area? They are foolish. It would be better to leave the Uncharted 
alone.” “Master Greage, silence! Go through the Droardia route. Do not 
take the road to the left. It is abandoned, and will never be 
renovated. Unless you have been cleared by our clergy, then you may not 
enter that city unless you wish to become like the monsters of that 
City. It steals more than bodies. It steals souls.” 

Unfortunately, we never made it to Droardia or the road that goes
through it, for Vefina was taken from us during a storm, while we were 
resting in a field. We were raising tents together when the rain 
pounded furiously, making it extremely difficult to unpack the rest of 
the necessities. Naked Vefina clung to Matthiew's arms so tightly I 
thought he would break in two from the stress. But my fears were only 
just beginning, for it grew darker still. Morine looked at me in the 
deep of my eyes, then glanced at the sky. 

22 

“Bad omens are approaching! Quick, to thy tents!” she cried. And so we
did as fast, blurry shadows danced around us. “Thiefs and Murderers!” 
screamed a man as a slick blade sliced his neck. I and my Morine 
quickly rushed to defend, but before long our camp was destroyed, and 
the girl was gone, taken into the night as we followed closely. The 
thicket was hard, as we cut our path after Vefina, but that led us 
beyond the outskirts of Droardia. 

My friend and fellow, Matthiew, urged us to follow on, and follow we
did. We ambled down well formed and worn paths through dense brush and 
tall shrubbery, and soon were engulfed in a small offshoot of the 
Blackwood Forest, on charts hailed as the Dark or the Haunted Wood. 
Where the Blackwood Forest was fifteen square miles in area, this other 
wood was only two. And in view of things, it is my theory that this 
small wood, a Glade of daemonic prophecy, is the worst and cursed of 
them all. 

Our amunes were low, our lamps dim and our morale entirely exhausted,
yet we fared through the night. Two of our number succumbed to this 
wood, one of them was killed by an immature Spydier, and another was 
seduced by a Succubus Siren, who then ate his soul (and his male 
member). My fears that this expedition, which claimed more lives than 
anticipated, I would never see it end, were mirrored by Morine's 
determination to survive, making her my ultimate final choice for a 
companion. 

23 

“Althius, love, I can sense that we are nearing a forbidden land. If the
girl Vefina is in there, then she is lost; we must turn back or else 
lose our sanity to whatever horrors may be within,” said my love, the 
Bride. “But if we lose Woman Vefina, then fellow Matthiew will lose 
hope.” “Hope is lost, love.” And lost it was, I knew it with every 
compounding step away from the sane world of Tiearra Tchcotia. 

We had sighted the tops of Droardia to our right, five miles away, but
we couldn't travel through the dense wood. And then merely hundreds of 
feet before us lay a looming metropolis. We reached open and laxly 
secured gates, with a stream of bizarre creatures of all forms before 
us. It was a giant city, with draconian walls hiding advanced 
technology, and still, the voice of this Great City of Dread beckoned 
me, us, to the centre, where the most mad events were held. 

It was a large, oval, shallow Coliseum where all watched with the
sadistic eyes of hunger, and addiction was prevalent, tongues drooled, 
thick viscous foam, the gnarled hands or appendages clutched railings 
so tightly cracks of wear showed. There were goblets of red, clotting 
fluid, bits of naked flesh was on the menu. It was as if the dark 
festivity-like atmosphere was held every hour of the day to feed the 
masses. 

24 

A gong struck the hour as a beautiful girl was drug on the ground to a
red-stained spot, (apparently a gladiator game was held recently) and 
left there in a blouse and denim pants that left nothing to the 
imagination. She was accompanied by a red-robed figure, who had the 
gaunt face of a dagwolf. It appeared that he was a master of disguise, 
and not a very good one at that. His teeth were long and pointed, his 
nose long, severely crooked. He strode silently (not even a whisper of 
cloth) to the girl and stared at her with his dagwolf eyes (this we saw 
on the holovision goggles we were given. I looked at Matthiew and his 
mouth was tight.) and she became entranced. He kissed her, and disrobed 
her, exposing those firm naked breasts which he groped. He kissed her 
again, and giving her an embrace, he stripped off her denim pants and 
showed her naked body to everyone. 

Apparently, someone had shaved her just recently, (the viewfinder of
these goggles, which I still have, can see amazingly closeup, and from 
great distances too!) as her pudendal fur was non-existent. He lifted 
her in his arms and laid her on a black, pristine slab of painted 
stone-metal. He laid on top of her and started to thrust, his buttocks 
appeared to fly. I looked away from the viewfinder, and glanced at the 
creatures around us.  They were either bored or enjoying the show. By 
way of comparison, we were shocked, horrified beyond belief at the 
scene; they had felt the same as I did. 

25 

The red-robed finished, his seed was planted. He then took out of his
robe a curious diamond covered (I could tell because only Tiearra 
Tchcotia diamond has a certain tint to it) ring that was wide enough to 
enclose her thigh. It went around her left one, and soon I became 
revolted by what was to happen next. He placed it above the knee, and 
tightened it (with the metal string that had a loop for the hands), 
cutting her naked flesh. Her trance was broken, as she screamed. He 
pulled that silver string up her thigh, along the bone, parting flesh. 
When it reached her pelvic bone, he stopped, and released the string, 
and the metal ring rose to the surface skin. He repeated the process, 
her screams varying. Her flesh was given to acolytes, who then 
proceeded to cook it and place it on a table of hideously looking 
flesh. 

Two acolytes were called over to hold the girl down as Red-Robed carved
her sex away, and it dawned on me why they shaved her pubic fuzz. He 
cut off her fleshy folds, followed by that most sensitive part of a 
woman's body, and ate them himself. He screams diminished  as the blood 
slowed and her pulse weakened. Her abdominal region was cleaned out 
(they do not eat the foul parts of the human body, I later discovered. 
And they don't kill women only. Men have been killed here too), 
removing those parts that hindered the feast. Her breathing slowed as 
she gasped shallowly. Her life was not long, and all knew it. 

The last fleshy parts removed were the girls breasts, each mound
carefully removed in an agonizingly slow, methodical way. Red-Robed 
finally end the show by driving the dagger into her forehead, and ended 
her suffering. Her breasts were then cooked, and served to us on silver 
plates (us being the “guests”) and we were forced to consume them. 
Morine, myself, and two others ate the left breast while unfortunate 
Matthiew and the others ate the right. And for such a forbidden 
dessert, a woman's left breast, baked, was essentially a treat. 

26 

We wandered, Morine and I, through the City. I saw glimpses of signs, of
homes, all in the language of the dead. Naked women were bought and 
sold at an evil marketplace. We saw plenty of carved bits of body 
parts, ranging from thighs to breasts, to other bits of flesh galore. 
Torsos of both sexes, or shapes, were sold. Even creatures that looked 
unappetizing went for sale. Those nasty Spydiers, for instance, were a 
delicacy in some far-off place. And there were heads. 

The one head, though, that made us turn and flee the City and finish our
exploration, was that of the young girl of seventy-one that ran in 
front of us, long ways back, to plead us to save her village from a 
witch, the one girl who loved me who I did not love back, who went to 
my Fellow Matthiew when I refused her. It was the sorrowed, glaring and 
severed head of the naked girl Vefina that made Morine and I bolt, and 
ran we did through the City-That-Was-Not-Droardia into Red-Robed. 

The Red-Robed was a dag-wolf, no question, and the lorid of all dagwolfs
of Nuevial. He bade us from the City, to never return. We fled a 
hunting party, and my friend and fellow Matthiew was killed by an arrow 
bolt to the head. Ten miles away, we resumed where we left off on our 
search, charting the last Uncharted Lands. (With a contingent of 
Militares, of course.) Morine and I married a month after the journey 
began, and soon she was impregnated by me. 

27 

Though these events occurred at least eighty years ago (since I am one
hundred fifty years old) those dark memories of old still haunt me and 
my love-darling Morine, for we lost those we knew to the place that 
never stops. I still remember how those leering faces with clicking 
jaws, some with forked tongues, other species had weird, flailing 
appendages, jeering at our misery, as we watched a naked girl being 
butchered like she was not a human. 

From what I found out, the City of Droardia is a make-shift City of
refugees from that City whose name was never revealed to me. And the 
tales of dread weren't directed to Droardia, but that other City, that 
city where the dagwolfs ruled. Fellow Matthiew led us to watch his 
sealed doom, for an Oracle in Lisabec told me she told his fortune that 
the girl Vefina would be taken from him, and that he would follow her 
trail to both of their deaths. 

I said before that I really don't know to who I'm writing this tale to,
but if you travel through the Proud Nation of Nuevial that I helped 
form those eighty years ago, remember that there are always better 
places to visit along the coast of the Great Salty Sea. Stop by those 
nice Cities by the Sea, and never stray inland, for if you do, the 
bleak black of despair will swallow you whole, and take you to die, 
under the watchful eye of the Lorid Dagwolf of, The City. 

From the Desk of S. J. Hjellum 

The proceeding pages were translated by a scribe when the dead sea
scrolls were found, and the original tale was lost for a while before 
being re-transcribed in 1980 by undocumented Egyptians. How did I come 
by to receive this story? I am not at liberty to discuss this at this 
time. 

S. J. Hjellum 1/11/2010 


Tweet