The Chronicles Of Jar'tai

Lac’orath

The city was only just waking up, as the toughened Warlord Rode over the Blackened heath. The ancient landmark was of huge cultural significance, eons ago the Gospel hero Bensha had burnt a rebel Heksoi outpost to the ground. The actions Bensha took to pre-empt the Heksoi settling pushed the feared race north, into the realm of chaos and darkness. Now the descendents of the Heksoi were back and they meant to correct the Gospel failure.

The clinking of armour and the clattering of shields could be heard from a mile away.
Breaking away from the initial horde the demon like man’s stallion bucked as he galloped to meet his warlord. “My liege, your intricate planning has served to aid us in our great quest” The sly voice came from second cutthroat Sai. The tall, battle scarred veteran was Warlord Ku’inkal’s most trusted military adviser and a close friend.
“Indeed Sai, but we have not yet won the battle, the people of Lac’orath will undoubtedly put up a stern resistance.” Ku’inkal’s fearless voice could stir courage and a sense of valour in the lowliest peasant.

Ku’inkal’s appearance was like no other, sharp features characterised his oval face, his leathery skin was the colour of pale slate. Razor sharp ivory horns adorned the top of his head, long black and silver hair streaked down his back. His mystically enchanted armour burned red as if on fire, the effects of an ancient incantation. Ku’inkal raised his metallic sword as the hordes war cry grew louder and louder.

“Sound the alarms, seal all the gates, and man the defences!” Jar’tai had never imagined that this day would come. Advance scouts had spotted the giant horde progressing at high speed from the north. Only key labourers were awake at the time and the alarm was slow to be raised. The horde would be upon the city before daybreak.

Jar’tai ran from the balcony with fear stabbing at his heart, impending doom was all he could think about. The gifted soldier ran through an intricately carved stone arch, down a twisting staircase and into his private chambers. In his haste to sound the alarms and restore order he had left his armour and weapons on the floor of his apartment. While he was fastening the clasps of his highly polished brass chest plate, he glanced up at a mirror, which hung crooked on the terracotta wall. His rugged features and golden locks earned him many female admires. Tired and fatigued he rubbed the stubble on his chin. Not knowing what was to become of his beloved city, he blew out a sigh of relief and fled down a long corridor. Perhaps for the final time he looked longingly at the magnificent skyline.

“Sir, Eagle battalion and Fox company are in position at the main gate.” The backdrop to the unravelling scene was astonishing. Rising up from the sandy ground stood the Palace of Kings. The roof was a uniquely sculpted dome inlaid with gold and emerald green enamel. At each corner of the rectangular building there were guard towers positioned purely for defence. If ever there was a need for them it was now. “Prep the archers and tighten up the back lines of infantry. We’re going to have to fight to the last man.” Jar’tai always knew what to do in tricky situations; the ability to keep a cool head in the worst of situations was one of the military leaders greatest asset.

Two-foot thick walls made largely of yellow masonry stone surrounded Lac’orath. The walls were tough but they wouldn’t stop the advancing horde for long. Unprepared and undermanned the cities defence perimeter would have to hold. The battle for Lac’orath was about to begin and with the war cries and alarm sirens blearing the collapse of peace and harmony was underway.

Old fiends
“Hu nai, hu nai, hu nai.” The sound reverberated off the distorted metal walls, twisted structures of bone rose from the wall to support the pyramid roof. Smoke bellowed from a deep pit in the centre of the chamber. The air began to tremble as the chanting increased.
“Unto the sacred fires of Di kaieth I place this sacrifice.” From a high plateau the robbed figure lifted the carcass high into the air the ritual chanting subsided. The carcass sagged under the weight of flesh. The victim for the sacrifice was an initiate in the order of Zanzor Rao, a deeply religious cult. The flames flickered as the nameless body fell through the polluted air. “Di Kaieth Devour!” In a split second the white-hot flames engulfed the body of the young woman. As the innocent flesh gently crackled and burned the ceremony was brought to an end.
“The flames are pleased with our efforts tonight. Everyone rise.” Whispering broke out as the ring of Prophets stood. In the same moment the disciples of Zanzor Rao flipped back their hoods. An aged bold man approached the speaker.
“Now child you have pleased the gods. Come let us feast!” As the ceremonial pyre slowly burned the unholy congregation filled through a narrow tunnel and into a huge banquet hall. A thick stone boulder slid into place to block the cave’s entrance.

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***(I am 15 and have only just started writing. Any comments and feedback would be very welcome.I plan to evolve this story over time by adding multiple plot lines. I have many ideas and should have something else posted soon.THANK YOU for reading a small part of a soon to be epic.***)