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I'm putting my last story on hold due to a mocking individual that insults my talents. This story is specially made for you Zinc. Even if you aren't impressed, at least appreciate that I dedicated a whole journal entry to you.




Darkness covered the landscape of Radon. Warriors, wizards, peasants, and kings, have suffered greatly from the inhabitants of this land. Wild beasts run amok in the forests. Crazed monsters lurk outside cities and wait for a stray villager to wander it's way. Denizens of darkness watch from the shadows as their minions reign terror upon cities in their disfavor. This story begins near the border of Radon. At the edge of a small town called Thallos......

Three weary travelers staggered down a dirt road. The first man is a half-elf. He is tall with handsome features, blond hair, gray eyes, and the pointed ears typical of his mother's heritage. To his left was a somewhat shorter man. His eyepatch suggested that he had seen rough times. His black hair stuck out from underneath his horned helmet. His green eye was alert. His face was weary, but still intently listening for any sign of movement around them. To the half-elf's right walked a much larger man. He stood a whole head taller than either of them. His poorly groomed short brown hair was drenched with sweat, but his blue eyes burned with determination. His large muscles were covered in scars that proved he was no stranger to battle. All walked with the hope that a town lay somewhere nearby.

"You know," the man with the eyepatch growled, "we wouldn't be in this situation if Psycho hadn't eaten the map!"

"I said I was sorry!" the large man replied defensivley, "I was hungry and I can't read. It was your fault for even trusting me with it!"

"That's enough!" the half-elf commanded, "Leave Psycho alone Megadeth. What's done is done. We cannot change that. We have no energy to spare for this bickering. Just keep moving."

"Sorry Syris, I'll leave him alone," Megadeth mumbled moodily.

They walked in silence for another hour. In the distance, a light could be seen. Soon it became many lights. It was not a town, as they first guessed, because it was moving towards them. As it got closer, they identified the moving lights as a caravan. The people who drove the carts looked terrified. Syris stopped one of the carts.

"What's going on?" Syris asked the old man driving the cart.

The old man's face was wrinkled and sullen. His eyes were sunken and dark. The grief written on this man's face was as visible as the words you now read.

"Destruction," the old man croaked, "Turn around traveler. I lost my entire family to the zombies. The Zombie Lord torments the town ahead every night. His power continues to grow. We cannot take it anymore."

"We desperately need food and shelter. Can we come with you?" Syris asked, "We can protect your caravan."

"I'm sorry, I really am," the old man replied, "We don't have extra supplies. There's no way we can take you. However, if you are as bad off as you say, go to the town up ahead. There are people that stayed behind in the church. They will put you up for the night. Beware, I cannot guarantee your safety."

Without another word, the old man and his cart rode off into the night. Without any other options at hand, Syris and his companions pushed on. Syris, Megadeth, and Psycho headed to Thallos with no idea of how their night would end.

I'm sorry but this is all I can do for now. I'll finish it this week Zinc! I swear!