Alun cringed at the smell that wafted through the wasted half of the black forest. Olaf's castle had disappeared hours before, under the rancid trees, and as the night came reeling in, Orei cursed to herself.

Looking up to see Alun staring at her she said, "There are worse things than wargs in the mutated wastes of the Eldar Wars. Be on your guard."

Alun felt shivers creep up his spine as his eyes darted around. Taking in the gathering shadows of the twilight hours, he felt as if spying eyes were in every hole and crag of the rotting forest. Huldain had said little since they had left the mountains. He seemed to be in a depressive mood, and he looked about him with anguish in his eyes, occasionally touching a tree or rock and letting out a heaving sigh.

A foggy mist started to swirl about them in rolling banks as sharp ridges cut across the shadowy landscape. The sun had almost set, but for some strange reason, light still lingered about the wastelands.

Alun frowned, and tapped Orei on the shoulder. "What is going on? What is this light, Orei?"

Orei looked back at Alun, and Alun could see fear in her eyes. "You will see very soon, Alun," she said, and as the banks of fog fell away into a clearing, Alun stared in horror at the strange sight before him.

A massive horned skull lay half sunken in the forest floor. The large ridges that Alun had mistaken for hills swept across the entire forest, and were in fact the skeletal body of a truly monumental beast. Green flames flicked across the ground, and trailed up into the beast's bony nostrils. Alun craned his neck to see the eye sockets, and shivered as the skull towered above him.

Huldain looked up at the massive beast, and dropped his pack next to a fallen tree. He turned to the others. "There is no point continuing on tonight. We will reach Olaf's castle by midday tomorrow – rest now."

Orei dropped her pack and began unravelling her bed mat. Alun crouched down beside her and followed suit. Huldain stood, looking around, and without warning took his axe and disappeared into the fog.

Alun watched him go, and turned to Orei. "What's his problem? Ever since we arrived in this forsaken place he has been sullen and distant."

Orei looked around herself, checking if Huldain was near. Then she licked her lips nervously, and glanced up at the huge skull. "Huldain, was not always a smith in the pit of Doflhiem, Alun. I know that you know he was a great hero, and after what happened in Stonehill the other day, I think you might understand what happened here."

Alun sat on his bed mat and waited for Orei to continue. "During the Eldar War, the Eldar corrupted many creatures. Wargs are among those beasts, but another thing they corrupted was the dragons. Now, dragons had already been changed by the god Glauran. They were originally stupid, slow, and fat creatures, but the Dragon King saw potential, and used his mother's dark magic to craft them into intelligent, god-like monsters. They obeyed their King and named him father, but after he was killed by Kaehan, the dragons followed their own agendas. That was until the Eldar used dark magic to control them, and use them against men and Dwarves. Some dragons fled into the far north not wanting to be controlled, whilst others were bent to the will of King Vlasmir.

“The Eldar formed a guild of dragon riders and called themselves the Dragon Knights of Lornea. When they lost their immortality, the Eldar launched these Dragon Knights on the kingdoms of Fanir, Altona, and Branir, the kingdoms that now make up the Alturine Empire. Huldain, Olaf, and another hero stood against them here, on the eastern slopes of the Black Forest, and won. The dragons and their knights fell, and because of their corrupted hearts, the ground became poisoned and scorched by the power of the three heroes."

Alun sat in amazement and looked about him. He stared up at the massive dragon skull, and imagined Huldain standing opposite it, with his axe shining against the dragon fire, and his red tattoos glowing against the scales of the beast.

Eager for another story he asked, "What happened after that?"

To Alun's surprise, it was Huldain's voice that answered. He had been sat on a sunken knuckle bone listening to Orei's tale.

"What happened after that?" He repeated, emotion thick in his voice. His good eye twinkled in the green light, and his scars and tattoos seemed to paint a strange picture about his face. "After the destruction here, the third hero left me and Olaf to go and find the source of the Eldar's dark power. When he came back, years later, he was different. The war was over, and the royal lines were challenged by the Alturine Inquisition under the orders of the Elduinian Church. We had won against the Eldar, but had lost against the very people we protected. Enraged by this, Myrian, the third hero, made a vendetta against the newly formed empire, believing that the Alturine Inquisition and Church had their own secret plans. Olaf and I were forced to create an inescapable prison in which we could hold him, and together we succeeded. Since then, the kingdoms of men and Dwarves have known peace."

Orei piped up. "Mostly known peace; there was that incident with that dragon in Nordlhiem."

Huldain nodded. "Yes, well that is a story for another time and by a different story teller. It’s best if you get some rest. I will keep watch – I never get any sleep in this retched place."

Alun rolled over, closed his eyes, and watched the green light from the flames flicker against his eyelids until sleep finally began to wrap around him. Questions bounced around his head from what he had been told, but they slipped away, ready for tomorrow as his thoughts turned into dreams.

The sun blurred Alun's sight as he opened his eyes, and the first thing he noticed was the silence. He had not noticed the bird song before, in both the forest and the mountains, but now with their absence, Alun felt uneasy. Orei and Huldain were eating chunks of bread and water, waiting for Alun to wake and pack. Alun pulled himself to his feet and rolled up his mat. After checking everything was in order, he pulled out a wedge of bread, and ate hurriedly with the other two.

As he finished his last mouthful, Alun looked about him. The mist had lessened with the daylight, and the green dragon fire seemed to have died down a little. Together, led by Huldain, the three rangers headed out from the clearing and through the light fog until they were out into the open forest again. Alun had forgotten the stench the rotting trees and plants released, and so he walked with his cloak wrapped around his nose and mouth, as well as covering the rest of his body.

Questions still swirled around his head from the previous night. Huldain seemed to be following the back and tail of the skeletal dragon, using the bones as landmarks as he continuously adjusted their course. Marshes bubbled and popped either side of the skeleton, and it took Alun a while until he realized that they were actually using the dragon as a pathway through the forest. He looked down, and saw, below the dirt and grime, the occasional white glint of dragon bone.

Finally, the stinking trees gave way to a long sweeping plain that ended in the distance with a river.

"That," Orei said, pointing to the water, "is the eastern fork of the Mother-locke river. Olaf's castle is north west of here."

Huldain shook his head. "We will not be going to the castle."

Both Orei and Alun looked at Huldain in alarm. They had just spent four days of hard trekking through harder country to reach Olaf's castle. Huldain saw this.

"Peace, friends. I only say this because Olaf is not, in fact, in his castle. I can feel his presence; the swish of his blade can be heard in the town of Trystem to our north. We must race there with all due haste, but I fear we will be too late, for it is an extra day’s hike. Olaf will be fine as he always is. Let us just meet him there and see what has transpired."

With that, they set off across the plain. Great winds buffeted them, and the Rocs of the mountains flew overhead, stalking the giant cattle that grazed there. They passed the occasional herder, clad in chain mail and holding large spears on horseback, then halfway across the plain, Alun saw first-hand a Roc attacking. It dropped from the sky, talons at the ready, aiming for a particularly slow beast.

A herder saw this, and spurred his horse on, charging to the back of the pack. It was a race between horse and bird; Alun held his breath as the two crashed together. The herder wielded his spear with amazing dexterity. He slashed at the giant bird, causing it to adjust its angle and take back off into the sky. However, still persistent and now angered by the herder, the Roc changed direction once again, and dived on the spear wielding farmer. Seeing this, both Orei and Huldain sprang into action.

The herder held his ground, and held the tip of his spear towards the diving bird. Huldain ran with the full charge of an angered bear, leaving his pack to fall behind. His cloak flew like rippling wings, and his axe glittered, parallel to the ground. Orei dropped her own pack, and loaded her rifle. She fell onto one knee, and aimed her sights on the diving bird. Alun stood, his hand on his revolver, dumbfounded at the spectacle that was unfolding before him. A bang echoed across the plain, causing the cattle to scatter. The herder's horse bolted, carrying its rider to safety. The Roc's descent seemed to slow as the tightly angled dive turned into a loose and limp fall. The sickening thud and crunch caused the earth around Alun to shudder, allowing the shock to subside he picked up Huldain's pack and ran over to where Orei was kneeling. The Dwarfess stood, and stowed away her rifle. She picked up her pack, and together with Alun, headed over to Huldain. The Roc had made a crater on impact, and its reddish brown and white feathers flew in the wind, speckled with its red blood.

The thumping hooves heralded the arrival of three herders, including the one who had fought off the Roc. They stared in wonder at the fallen Thunderbird, and looked at Orei in amazement.

"How did you do that, Mistress Dwarf?"

Orei shrugged and patted her rifle. "A little bit of Dwarvish engineering and aim is all, lads. Don’t worry, I’m sure these will leak into your part of the world soon enough."

Alun handed Huldain his pack, and the three of them continued on their way to Trystem. Huldain's mood had lightened since they had left the bone infested Black Forest, and he whistled strange tunes, occasionally singing some stranger lyrics. Orei seemed to enjoy this as she walked, and the whistling rhythm was given a beat by her hands, tapping on the head of her ornate axe. Orei had taken his larger axe out of his pack and used it as a walking stick across the monotonous landscape.

The Rocs had scattered since Orei had shot one of their kind, and the giant cattle had been herded into control by the fearless herders. The ground became rockier as they drew closer to the banks of the Mother-locke. Huldain had followed his short friend’s lead with his axe, using it as a cane for his pace, ensuring that he didn't tire, although Alun doubted Huldain could tire at all. Alun noticed that every time Huldain's axe touched the earth, a smouldering mark was left behind. He looked across at Orei to point it out, but found the Dwarf looked fondly at his own axe.

Alun looked at the silver axe in Orei's hand. Dwarven runes trailed up the centre of its silver shaft, and was encompassed by silver swirls. The head shone in the sunlight extra bright, and after looking closer, Alun could see tiny Dwarves carved into and around the head and blade. These Dwarves were all kneeling, praising a central figure who sat on a golden inlaid throne. In one hand, the figure held a golden hammer, and in the other it held a golden book.

Alun looked up from the axe to see Orei looking at her. Orei seemed guilty, and Alun remembered when Orei had tried to explain herself. This time, Alun decided to let her.

Orei glanced to her axe for a moment and then looked back up at Alun. "You are still wondering why I don't hold my axes in Doflhiem, aren’t you?"

Alun nodded, waiting for Orei. The Dwarfess cleared her throat and went on. "In Dwarven custom, the better your weapon the higher your station. If a lower class dwarf was to have a better weapon than a higher class Dwarf, they would fight for the right of the weapon. Of course, the value of a weapon is not classified by what it is made of, but rather what it has done. This axe was forged in the original God Wars. It is held by the crown prince, or in my case princess, of Doflhiem as a reminder that all rulers must balance actions with consequence."

Alun stared at Orei. "You are the crown princess of Doflhiem?"

Orei's guilt returned as she bobbed her head. "Yes. I am sorry I did not let you know. Few people do. That’s why I left my axes out of Doflhiem. I wanted to serve my father's people as more than just a figure head."

Huldain had slowed down, and was now walking beside Orei.

He clapped Orei on the shoulder, and with a big smile said, "And a fine figure head you have become. Dwarf rulers have always been down to earth, but you, my lass, shall be a ruler that your ancestors will envy."

Orei smiled up at Huldain. "Thank you, Huldain. From you that is a most gracious compliment."

Once again, twilight loomed over the plains, and the distant campfires of the herders could be seen huddling close together. Huldain, Orei, and Alun sat at their own fire, shielded from the vicious winds and cold by their Dwarven proofed clothes. Again, Huldain took watch over Orei and Alun as they slept.

Trystem could be seen lit up by many fires, and the rolling thump of music and merry making was heard in the distance.