The Crusaders

(Old Man)-Prolog
The lands of Balforth are vase and magnificent, with scenery scoping all the senses of man, snow covered mountain peaks, rolling hills of grain, and the greatest cities of all the lands. But all is not well in Balforth for the shadows of a long forgotten war are starting to reveal themselves once more. The story of this war is as epic as the war itself but throughout the years people lost grip on their past and with it the secret to overcome the shadows of the past that now lay ahead of them. But not all have forgotten the stories, a small guild of men have sworn themselves to never forget, and to always protect the secrets that one day may save all of humanity. These men call themselves the Crusaders and thought their ranks holds a single universal belief that one day the war that put all of humanity in a place of ruin will return to them and with it a fallen king, a man said to end any war with a swing of his blade and with the power of a small jewel that he will carry around with him at all times . The Crusaders have been in hiding for the last 200 years, shun from society for their strong belief of mans past but now it starts again just as the stories told and the past has made it to the present.




The sun rises on past the northern mountains, past the rolling hills to the southern most part of Balforth, a small port city, Androus. The city is engulfed with the sounds of merchants, sailors, townspeople, and guards all moving along in their day. The city of Androus is small in size, but serves as a main port for exporting and importing goods into Balforth. The streets are filled with merchants stands selling anything a man could think of and more. Androus had many taverns to hold the interest of the sailors that came into the city for rest after years on the sea, the houses where all made of a rich white stone, the same stone that lined the roads of Androus. On the southern side of town was its heart and soul, the ports, made of a maple red wood the docks reached far into the bay where the sea dumped into. Using these docks ships from all over would come for trade and in a way Androus was truly the jewel of Balforth. On the shore of Androus four young boys are playing in the soft grayish sand when they notice something in the corner of their eyes, they turn their heads in curiosity to see a massive ship turning into the ports, the ship was the largest ever seen in these ports and the word quickly spreads throughout the small town that something was to happen in at the docks. In no time the docks are filled with people wondering over the massive ship and gazing at its red and white sails as it moves passed the sun blocking it from sight and casting a shadow over the townspeople. Their heads moved up and down the ships coal colored walls, seeing the silhouettes men in the ships portholes. Out of no where seven of guards, that enforced the law of Androus came from the center of town and direct the people away from the ship and from the docks.


Guard 3, “ Ok move along people this ship is non of your concern it is only transporting captures of war to the city prison for execution, now continue your business or I will be forced to take action.”

The guards where all dressed in bright armor and carried with them large broad swords and a huge shield with the kings mark of loyalty on the front.


The people of Androus where curious and wanted to see these men for themselves, but the guards pushed them back passed the docks. The unnerved people looked onwards to see a massive door swing open on the ship and a long ramp fall to the dock. Four guards dressed in all black armor and long black and white capes moved to the bottom of the ramp onto the dock. These men dressed in black have been seen by the people of Androus before during past conflicts, they are the kings personal guards and the people became very uneasy for they knew that these men where only called to perform high risk jobs. As the people started talking amongst themselves about the guards a marching sound began to echo out from the halls of the ship and rows of four men at a time started to walk down the ramp to the dock where the guards where. The captive men wore nothing but grey tattered rags and heavy rusted chains that secured their feet and hands, they all walked in unison as if they where in a trained army. The third row of men made it down to the dock when a young man emerges in the fourth row. He was placed at the end of the row, closest to the townspeople. This man was not like the others he was not even a captive of war, he came her for the murder of a slave trader, the people noticed him from the start for he was the only one not walking in unison. This man had a way about him that the people could not recognize, it amazed them for this man was not beaten down as the others where, no this man had a radiant smile upon his face. His row makes it down to the dock where the guards inspected the captures for any weapons or other belongings found as hazardous. One guard with a rather large scare bellow his left eye moves and confronts this man with a smile.

Guard 1 “ You scum what do you have to smile about” said the guard as he moved in front of the man. The guard draws a small dagger from his left holster and rests it on the mans neck.


Guard 1, “What is your name lowlife?” said the guard in a harsh unforgiving tone.

The man stood there moving his head about his shoulders soaking up the sunlight.

Guard 1, “I said what is your name? tell me before you lose that head of yours!” screamed the now irritated guard, pressing the dagger firmly against the mans throat.

Man, “Do you know how dark it is in those cells?, the fact that you can hear something move but not be able to see it, each day you try to remember how the world looked but over time you lose grip on what you thought the world looked like and then you replace it with what you see around you. For all I knew that cell was my world, for two years that’s all I heard, all I tasted, and all I saw not even knowing that there was a world past this one you stand here and ask me what I have to smile about, well I have my world back.”

The guard quivers with rage and bundles up a fist, the guard drives his hard fist into the weakened mans stomach, the man falls to his knees never loosing that grin.

Guard 1, “I said boy what is your name?”

Man, “Cough, cough my name is Aron of Caodious” whispered the man as his head slowly slipped down to face the wood paneled dock.

Guard 1, “Well Aron I hope you like this world for it will be short last.” The guard turned and walked to the front of the first group and announced all of the captures.

Guard 1, “Ok all of you are captures of war and will be sent to the Jail yards for trial then killed at the gallous at dusk now move and mind yourselves for we are ready to kill each of you on the spot if needed.”

The captures began to walk towards the town as the guards formed a human fence around each group of men. The towns people, still gazing at these men, where forced aside by the guards as the captures moved passed them, the people felt a strange bond with Aron they knew they hated for being a capture of war but he connected with something that was deep with in there souls. The men continued to walked into the city, moving along on the white stone road and passed through all of the merchants and taverns as the last of the townspeople gazed at these men as they disappeared passed a large hill on the road into the outskirts of Androus. The men continued to march passed, what looked like the last pieces of civilization when they notice that the sun had gone down. They had been walking four eight hours through all of Androus and into the harsh southern wilderness of Balforth. The sky was as black as the armor of the kings guards, non of the men could see three feet in front of them and soon the trees began to look like creatures of the night. The only source of light for the capture was the moon and stars, but the little light they cast was overshadowed by the fear of the legend that was cast around the southern forests of Balforth.

Guard 1, “Ok stop!” Announced the head guard “this is the where we will make camp for the night we will move on in the light now we will have guards posted up all night and if any of you even makes a move you will be killed and fed to the wild beasts”

Captive “sir?” questioned tired man “are the tales of this place true?”

The guard walked over to the man and stared him down

Guard 1, “well, well, well, look what we have here boys a man who fears stories and legends, ha.”

All of the guards started to chuckle at the mans fears.

Captive “But my brother said that when he was here he saw something that killed all of his troop at once and that he had to flee, leaving his men behind him”
Guard 1 “It seems to me that your brother is nothing better then a whore, running from a beast that does not exist, and why trust a man who would leave behind his fellow men he has no honor ha.”

Captive “But he was……”

The guard forcefully swung his arm passed the mans head, striking him in the chin and knocking him to his back.

Guard 1 “Now if anyone else fears these legends be sure to tell me and I will give you the same treatment as I gave this poor man, now get into line and start making camp.”

The captives started to set up there tents, still bound by there chains , making this task almost impossibly hard to accomplish. The guards had built a huge fire in the center of their tents leaving the captives to their own section without a fire or even a torch, nothing but a leathery cloths over their heads and the chains that held them in place. All but one of the guards where asleep but almost non of the captives could sleep for they knew that tomorrow held their death at the gallous. Aron was put into a tent at the center of the captives sleeping center he had almost no room to move as the other captives where merely inches away from each other.

Captive “psssst….. Aron” whispered a man, just left of Arons tent.

Captive “psssst Aron are you awake?” asked the man in a loader tone.

Aron “Yes what do you want?”

Captive “I saw what you did back at the dock, to that guard with the scare that took some courage, my name is Keltan.”

Aron “I only did what I saw fit nothing more, I’m finally back to where I was born.”

Keltan “You where born here, then why where you with us in that boat as a war criminal against your own home?”

Aron “This is all wrong I am an innocent, I was never a part of this war, I,…..I feel as something more powerful then I can comprehend is doing this to me, bringing me back here after all those years.”

Keltan “So why where you in the lands of Hutrend with us then?”

Aron “I was sent there as a child, I cant really remember why or even by who, all I know is that I was suppose to come back here, and now that I am here I can remember nothing more of my past.”

Keltan “Well if you are from here then that means you must know of the legends of these woods, right?”

Aron “Yes the man who took care of me in Hutrend told me tales of these woods once why?”

Keltan “Can you tell me of the legends, I wish to know what lives in these woods.”

Aron “Well he told me stories of men that turned to beasts when the moon raised passed the sun but I always shrugged my shoulders at such an idea.”

Keltan “Well if you are from here then that means you must know of the legends of these woods, right?”

Aron “Yes the man who took care of me in Hutrend told me tales of these woods once why?”

Keltan “Can you tell me of the legends, I wish to know what lives in these woods.”

Old Captive “Yes I know these woods they hold a dark secret that goes deeper then anyone of us will ever know, these woods hold the cursed werewolves, the men with the curse come here in hopes of not killing anyone, ha but they always fail.”

Aron “What how do you know this old man?”

Old Captive “I know for I was one of the cursed, I came here very year from Hutrend to release my beast into these woods in hopes of keeping the people safe from my grip.”

Keltan “This is all just story right? I mean non of this can be true, can it?”

Old Captive “Ha for me I hope that the werewolves come tonight and feed on these guards.”

Aron turned onto his back and faced the sky, a look confusion ran across his face as he tried to comprehend why his destiny would send him to the woods of the cursed. Aron slowly closed his eyes and drifted aimlessly into sleep. Seconds later Aron found himself in a dream, he looked around and saw a large castle that was set a blaze, he saw thousands of people running for their lives from a great shadow that soon engulfed the whole city, killing everyone, leaving everything in a state of ruin. Aron floated high above the ruins of the once great city seeing nothing but the ashes of a fallen empire, but within the ashes Aron sees an untouched tree, it was still blooming pinkish white flowers from its tips and was completely unharmed by the shadow that seemed to destroy everything it touched. Then from out of the darkness Aron hears a voice.

? “The shadows of the past will engulf all of man kind and within the dust of the fallen a new age will grow.”
Aron “Who are you show your face!” screamed Aron into the abyss.

? “It is not time yet young Aron your destiny will reveal itself in do time but for now I caution you, for the power of the woods can be a great enemy or an even greater alley.”

Aron “What are you talking about?”

? “Take head my warning young Aron we will meet soon enough.”

Aron woke up in a daze, confused unaware of his own surroundings. Aron begins to arise to his feet when one of the guards runs passed him, pushing him to the ground

Guard “Get down if you wish to live another day.” screamed the guard at Aron as he turns to his back to see what was going on.

Aron saw the all seven of the guards line up at the edge of the wood line just outside of the camps clearing. The screams of the captive men filled the forest with an unknown terror, the men where trying to flee but where stuck in place by the chains. Aron got back onto his feet and turned to see massive bodies moving in and out of the forest trees, they moved fast and where merely a blink of darkness.

Aron “What is going on?”

He heard nothing but the sounds of the screaming men. Aron started to walk to his left and saw Keltan still laying in his tent. Aron bent down onto one knee and started to push Keltan to wake him from his slumber when he notice a pool of blood dripping from Keltans mouth. Aron recoiled in shock of what he was seeing and managed to pull Keltans shoulder down to the ground. Aron could not bare to see what had happened to him but he opened his eyes to see Keltan with three large scares scraped across his chest each one filled with a pool of blood. Ron forcefully pushed himself up and took hold of a nearby captive.

Aron “Now tell me what is going on here?!” said Aron gripping the collar of the frightened captive.

Captive “The beasts are attacking…….. We are all dead, the guards can not fend them off.”

Aron slowly let go of the mans collar and sighed a deep breath.

Aron “ How could this happen, I know he told me these stories for a reason, why am I here,……….. to die?”

Whispered Aron to himself as the crowd of men still panicked for their lives. Aron takes a seat on a near by box of clothes and looks around at the ciaos that surrounded him, the guards where all killed leaving nothing but their weapons behind, and most of the captives have lost hope in there lives for if they survive this then they will still be killed at the gallous. Just as Aron begins to lose his hope to live he sees a glimmer of metal to the left of his eye, it was a long sword left behind by one of the guards. Aron eminently got up and ran for the sword, pushing the panicking captives out of his way he slowly moved to the sword that lays in the cold blood of the guard who used it. Aron Extended his out towards the sword and grips the handle, blood covered the entire sword making harder to wield. With a mighty swing of his arm Aron breaks the chains from his body, the steal sword cut through rusted chains as it where nothing. Aron turns to start freeing the others when he is hit by a giant blow to the head, knocking him to the dust. He turns around to see a massive body covered in a thick grayish fur, the beast stood eight feet tall and had arms like a bear. Aron looked up at the werewolves face and saw a nothing but a gaping mouth full of razor like teeth. He lifted up the guards sword and engaged the beast, the werewolf quickly extended his claws and began launching devastating strike on Aron. Aron swiftly dogged the monsters attacks and used the sword to combat the werewolves steal like claws, Aron swung the sword at a vertical angle towards the beast, but to no avail, the werewolf was to fast and agile for Aron to keep up with. Aron was knocked back by the beasts claw, leaving a gaping wound on Arons left shoulder that dug deep, almost striking bone. Arons face is now covered in blood and dirt and struggles to rise back to his feet, as he pulls himself up to his knees he rests his right hand onto a large wooden barrel, he turns his head and sees a guards shield resting on the barrels side. Aron grabbed the shield with his open left hand and throws it into the chest of the werewolf, the shield strikes the beats with its pointed corner. The shield is driven deep into the monsters chest and moving from the wound in which it created, the werewolf fell to one knee and let out a monstrous cry. Aron got to his feet and started to limp over to the dieing beast, still dragging his wounded shoulder behind him. Aron lifted his blade and rested it upon the werewolves right shoulder, the werewolf looked up at Aron with a look of remorse as him it wanted to die by his blade. Aron moved the sword out from the beats shoulder and grabbed the handle with both hands, then in the blink of an eye he swings the blade severing the werewolves head from its body. All fell silent in the forest as the head of the beast slowed to a stop at the end of a captives tent. Aron dropped his blade and fell to his knees, staring at the wolves lifeless body as it falls backwards, landing in a pool of blood. The captives looked in the direction of the fallen beast in amazement, at this time the other werewolves quickly moved to surround Aron and their fallen brethren. The pack of werewolves slowly came closer to Aron as he still looked on in wonder of what he had done. Aron could feel the breath of the angered beasts as they came even closer to where he kneeled, the werewolves raised their claws, about to strike Aron down when a voice echoes from the forests tree line.

? “Stop!” screamed the unseen man.

? “This man is mine to take care of, and mine alone.”

Aron lifted his head to see a large man entering the camps clearing, the man was as big as the werewolves and was dressed in a long brown bears pelt with a curled white beard that flowed down to the middle of his chest. The man walked slowly towards Aron and the werewolves that had surrounded him moved aside, allowing the man by, he carried with him a massive one handed axe that was as bright as the moons gaze.

? “Who are you human?”

Aron “That is no concern of yours beast.”

The man began to laugh at Aron as he raised to his feet.

? “Ha human I don’t think you are in a place for such words.”

Aron “Leave these men be, we will move out of this forest by the day brake.”

? “Now why would I do that, do you now how hungry my men get they need to feed on the blood of man in order to thrive and by the looks of it was will you in due time.”

Aron looked at his wounded shoulder and covered it with his hand.

Aron “I will never be as you are!” screamed the Aron as he grips his shoulder firmly with his arm.

? “Well you will see that even the most honorable men eventually fall to the curse of the werewolf.”

Aron “What are you…….who are you?”

? “I am General Arnek of the Balforth Council of High men, and of course leader of the Black Moon Clan.”

Aron “Black Moon Clan?’

Arnek “Yes we are the protectors of the werewolf species, extending our…… ah special gift to those we find as worthy.”

Aron “But you are not like the other werewolves, what are you?”

Arnek “I am a half breed, both man and werewolf unlike the others I do not change forms and I appear more man then beast.”

Aron “If you are part of the Council of High men then why are you killing in this forest?”

Arnek “We are beasts but we must feed, now we must kill you and your men.”

Aron “No weight I’m sure we can make some kind of deal.”

Arnek “And what makes you so special, why should your blood be any different from others I have killed in the past?”

Aron “Because I have this!”

Aron drives his hand into his right pocket and pulls out a small necklace, the necklace was strapped with a gold lace and a holster that held a small blue jewel.

Arnek “What……..how did you get that?”

Aron “I was told my father gave it to me before he died.”

Arnek “Your father, ha you think I will actually believe such nonsense.”

Aron “I was given this jewel for one purpose and maybe you are the one who can tell what that is.”

Arnek and four other werewolves walked slowly to Aron as he extended his arm to show the blue amulet. Arnek lowered his massive axe and gripped Arons forearm with a devastating hold, Arnek looked blankly into the amulets crystal like surface, staring into its center as if he was looking for something to catch his eye.

Arnek “This cant be how are you the………..”

Aron “Then this is something important is it not?”

Arnek turned his back on Aron and started to walk back into his previous location.

Arnek “That amulet you have there, it is the sign.”

Aron “A sign to what?’

Arnek “It is a sign of the end of the world.”

Aron “What how does this involve me and ……….my father, who was my father anyway?”

Arnek “I think it would be better that you are kept in the dark for now young one. Men gather the rest of your meals and do not touch the boy who holds the amulet, that is an order now carry on.”

Aron “No weight these men are with me, they are my……..they are my legion, you cant hurt them.”

Arnek “Ha you may not be touched but that is all my order describes I can do as I wish to the rest of these men.”

Aron “No their lives are in my hands I if I sit back here and let your men kill them I will forever have their blood to pay.”

The captive men looked around in confusion, staring at Aron and the werewolves that surrounded him.

Arnek “And what will you do to stop us?”

Aron stored the amulet back into his pocket and reached for the guards blood covered sword. Aron raised the sword with both hands and pointed the tip at his heart, a cool sweat raced across his face as Arnek and his men looked onwards at him.

Arnek “Ha boy you don’t have the guts to do such and act.”

Aron “But to the sounds of your words you need me alive, don’t you?”

Arnek “I see the sweat fall from your face boy, you are no solider, not like your father.”

Aron “But his blood still flows through my veins and if any part of this legendary man is in me it is his courage,, I am no coward Arnek, go ahead take your chances.”

Arnek looked into the eyes of Aron and saw that he was not bluffing with his act of self-righteousness.

Arnek “Fine I will spare the lives of your men but in return I wish to fight you.”

Aron “What?”

Arnek “Yes me and your father never got the chance to settle our bet, and it seems that you will be the one fulfilling it.”

Aron “I will not fight you Arnek?”

Arnek “I see where you are your father differ, he was a man.”

Aron “Fine I will fight Arnek and you will let these men free.”

Arnek “Yes there lives will be spared, but I do not wish to fight you know the odds would be to great against you.”

Aron “What do you speak of you wish to fight me, so fight me.”

Arnek “Our fight will happen as soon as your transformation is complete.”

Aron looked at his wounded shoulder and dropped his head remembering the fate of all who contract the werewolves curse.

Arnek “I wish not to weight for your third night of transformation,, instead I will apply to you a drink that will speed up the curse.”

Aron “I will never accept this fate as my own.”

Arnek “You have no choice in the matter, either you take the drink and fight me as a werewolf or all of your men die by my hands”

Aron looks behind him at the captive, feeling a bond with the men he has spent the last two years with. A loud thump aroused from the trees as another werewolf appeared holding a small wooden box with strange writing on its surface. The werewolf walk to the side of Arnek and appointed the box into his view, Arnek turned and gently placed his giant fur covered hand in the top of the box. Arnek opened the box to reveal a small blue vile with a dark black cork and a signature of blood in the front in an ancient language.

Arnek “This vile contains the path of the cursed, if you accept this fate to save the lives of your men you will prove to me that the blood of your father still flows strong through you.”

Aron “Is there a cure for this curse?” asked Aron as he pulled out his arm to take hold onto the vile.

Arnek “The only cure is death by silver.”

Aron “Arnek if I beat you defeat you in battle will you then tell me of my father?”

Arnek “Yes and because you can not be killed I declare this match to end when the other man can no longer fight.”

Aron “Fine with me General.”

Aron forcefully took the vile from its resting place and unhinged the cork from its top, Aron tilted his arm into the air and poured the potion down into his throat.

Aron “How long until its effects take place?”

Arnek “That was a one of a kind potion, it induces the curse in the first minutes of consumption.”
Aron “Fine then make room for the fight and move my men from the clearing and do away with there chains.”

Arnek “Does as the man instructed and do not hurt a hair on those men! Now go.”

The wolves ran passed Aron and started to cut the captives chains and retreat them to the nearby ruins of a fort. Aron fell to his stomach and began to twitch, violently as the potion started to take its effect. Aron raised his body and ripped his shirt as his body began to take the form of a werewolf, he began to grow a dark brown fu across his back as it humped into an arch. Arons legs grew long and his feet grew fur and massive claws, which extended from his once stubby toes. Aron placed his arms on the ground and propped himself to his feet, he now stood as a massive beast of the cursed forests of southern Balforth. He let out a giant scream and flexed his now massive arms and chest.

Arnek “There let the power flow through your cursed body, it will give you strength beyond your imagination, speed that can best any man, and the powers of the black moon.

Aron “Fight me now Arnek!” screamed the Aron with a bellowing tone.

Arnek “No this is a fight worthy of my power.”

Arnek put himself into a ready stance, with his arms locked out in front of him and his knees pressing his legs firmly against the dry ground.

Arnek “Your move Aron, strike me if you can.”

Aron bent his back placing his paws on the ground and tilted his head up, looking straight into Arneks eyes. Aron leaped with a monstrous force and lunged towards Arnek, Aron moved all fours and got right in front of Arnek, already in his defensive stance, Aron raised himself off onto his feet and swung his massive claws at Arneks throat. Arnek bent his back and quickly dogged Arons claws, he moved his two great arms into the air and locked claws with Aron. The two seemed to be evenly matched as they stared at each others eyes, while struggling to keep dominance. Arons arms started to shake fiercely as he began to lose his strength, his feet dug ever deeper into the ground as Arnek pushed him back. Aron rolled backwards and jumped onto near by barrel, then he jumped towards Arnek, delivering a devastating blow, driving his right claw into Arneks shoulder.
Arnek pulled back in recoil and stabbed Aron in the chest, while he hung on his back with his claws still deep with in Arneks shoulder blade. Arnek pulled his blood socked claw out from Arons chest and drove a forceful jab into his stomach, the punch delivered an amount of force great enough to drive Arons claw out from Arneks shoulder and pushing him into a near by oak tree, causing several braches to fall on top of him. Arnek shrugged his shoulders and slowly started to walk to where Aron had landed, Aron moved a large tree branch from on top of him and looked at Arnek as he walked slowly towards him. Aron could see Arneks blood stained claws and notices the gapping claw wounds on his chest. Arnek grabbed Arons throat and picked him up off his feet.
Arnek “This is the man that is to save us all, ha you are not worthy of such a destiny.”

Aron “Cough, cough……”

Arnek “Do you have anything to say before you lose your father bet?”

Aron “Yes I wont give up and as long as I still fight I don’t lose remember.”

Arnek through Aron into the ground, causing him to tumble over tents and crates. Aron got up and let out a scream that shook the entire forest.

Aron “Arnek! I will full fill my father debt to you without losing his honor.”

Arnek got on all fours and ran towards Aron, Aron jumped into a tree, nearly missing Arneks tackle. Aron jumped down landing firmly on Arneks back, Aron drove his claws deep into Arneks back and rapidly started to take chunks of his back off with each slash and pulling it on to the ground. Arnek raised his back and took hold onto Arons head, Arnek flipped Aron on to the ground in front of him and opened his gapping mouth, reveling several razor sharp teeth, Arnek took hold of Arons neck and bit it, hold on tight with his massive jaws. Aron shrugged Arnek off of his neck and turned, delivering a series of devastating blows to Arnek face. Aron cut into Arneks face leaving it bloody and miss formed, with one final side swipe of his massive claw, Aron drives Arnek into a far by tent, leaving him unable to continue the fight.

Arnek “Boy!”

Arnek screamed out from under the tent.

Arnek “Boy you are something else you bested the best there is and you have earned back your fathers honor and gained your own.”

Arnek pushed aside the tent cloth and stoop up strong, as if nothing had even happened to him.

Arnek “Maybe you do have what it takes to continue your fathers bloodline.”

Aron “How……..how do I change back?”

Arnek “Ha you have much to learn about what lies around you, in the morning you will remember little of what had happened this night, but when you awaken from your slumber you will feel stronger and faster then you have ever felt before, and you will be in touch with your surroundings on a whole new level, take these powers I bestow upon the worthy but take hast for the powers that keep you alive will soon kill you.”

Aron blacked out, falling to the ground still a beast of the forest.
Strange voice “Wake up…………., wake up you must be cold in those tattered rags of yours.”

Aron opened his eyes and looked around to see nothing but dark hazes around him.

Aron “Where am I?” asked the confused Aron as he leans himself up.

Strange voice “Don’t worry young traveler you are in a safe place, far from those cursed trees.”

Aron “Cursed trees?”

Strange voice “Yes you where found on the outskirts of the forest, the guards of this town feared you had been attacked by the beasts there so I brought you back to my house before they could harm you.

Aron turned his head around the small room to see nothing more then a single bed made of straw and some old creates in the left coroner, with an old rusted cud on top of one and a web covered chair pushed firmly against another. The roof of the mans house was leaking into a small wooden bucket close to Arons head, the floors where hard pine planks, with many cracks and abrasions that where scattered amongst the surface.

Aron “Who are you?…….Where am I?”

Strange voice “I am Venstle, and this is Hitlond a small peasant town just north of the southern forest, where we found you.”

Aron placed his hand onto one of the creates and propped himself to his feet.

Aron “So Venstle is it? I want to thank you for bringing me to your house and out of harms way, but why did you decide to risk your life to protect me from guards?

Venstle “Well Aron we are brothers, we share the same blood and I cant let one of my family die by the sword of some guard, now can I?”

Aron “What how do you know my name and what do you mean by sharing the same blood?”

Venstle “Your will is strong, I think that’s what Arnek liked about you.”

Aron “No, that was a dream………..I know it was nothing more then a dream.”

Venstle “Come now Aron, Arnek told us that you would be the strongest werewolf ever to walk these lands, but you still suppress your memories.”

Aron “No I cant be cursed, not like them.”

Venstle “Now Aron if what Arnek told me is true then you should be embracing this power within you.”

Aron forcefully stood up and grabbed Venstles throat.

Aron “Tell me now! What the hell is going on why is everyone talking to me like im some kind of god?”

Venstle “Because you are Aron, you are the one told in the prophesy of Belforth, you are the fallen kings son and the holder of the amulet that is said to hold powers no man could ever hope to dream of.”

Aron “Ok I need some time to,…….to think this over what am I to do now I have no guidance, if the words you have spoken are true, what am I to do?”

Venstle “Well Aron you must go see the council.”

Aron “Yes the council of High men the same one Arnek is part of right?”

Venstle “No young Aron you must seek the council of the Crusaders.”

Aron “The Crusaders who are they?”

Venstle “They are a secret guild of men who hold all of the prophecy they keep for the rest of humanity has forgotten, of there past.”