Killing Monsters Page 4

  The woodlanders who were also able to bond with nature developed a close bond with this dragon and shared the forest peacefully with Freya. She regularly passed down her knowledge of nature and all living things to the woodlanders.

  Many more dragons ruled with Storm and his friends. However, sadly and for reasons unknown, in the year 375, the dragons took to the sky and left.

  These first dragons were never seen again and even left their eggs behind, which were subsequently captured by humans, dwarves, and elves and hatched successfully, leading to the generation of dragons that occupy the lands today.

  To this day, in the year 417, it's still unknown as to why the dragons disappeared, with some people claiming they ventured off to colonise new lands. Some also say that after overseeing Dragons Continent they decided the leave, feeling all other beings were capable of maintaining the lands without the dragons present. There are some who have more sinister beliefs, beliefs of a dragon war that was far off on unknown lands, though this has never been proven true. People refuse to believe there are lands outside of the known world of Dragons Continent, but the famous pirates and seamen that reside in the seafarer’s village of Ocean’s Kiss, which lies south of Centre Plate, regularly sail south, and when they venture beyond their maps they are never seen again.

  Yoshihiro would often tell Hiroki stories of the famous first dragons when he was a child, which filled his heart with excitement and grandeur, like most kids.

  Hiroki, now a young man, tended to look back at the dragon’s history with great sadness regarding their disappearance, and just like all beings, yearned to know why the great rulers of the lands decided to leave.

  The night had begun to approach, the area of which the War Hogs had set up camp remained prominent with many warriors enjoying the time of peace, rest, and relaxation.

  The War Hogs boasted a fighting force of three thousand five hundred, and Yoshihiro had spent many years growing this army. Most men within this fierce force were aspiring warriors who could not refuse the opportunity to fight alongside the greatest swordsman of all time; others were slaves or individuals that Yoshihiro had rescued on his journeys. They promised a lifetime of service to him, as he had saved their lives, and some, like Ragrim, Astaroth, and the other Cursed Bastards, were friends of Yoshihiro and had met him on their travels. Hiroki himself had been rescued as a child and was taken under Yoshihiro’s wing to train and serve as an adopted son and student.

  The War Hogs had been camped in their current location for many days, as a wicked warlord named Darius Kazim—who occupied a fair amount of land on Centre Plate—had requested Yoshihiro’s services for what he promised would be a ‘high risk, high reward’ endeavour. Yoshihiro could not resist, and marched towards Darius’s lands; however, Yoshihiro was no fool. He did not trust the wicked warlord, and had a salty history with Darius. The warlord's settlement was aptly named Cutthroat’s Grasp, which suited the vile man and his ways as well as the scum that happily served him. His army had carried out many atrocities over the years.

  Yoshihiro and his War Hogs knew this would perhaps be their last endeavour, as two monstrous armies on the Eastern Plate were warring between each other, and these two opposing royal families were said to command armies of up to one hundred thousand each. If the rumours were true, with the victor then wanting to march onto Centre Plate to expand their dominance, Yoshihiro knew the centre would have to unite. This, however, was a fool’s dream, and to make matters worse, the two wicked kings from the East both commanded grand dragons.

  Despite the current threat, the War Hogs’ encampment near Darius’s lands cheered and celebrated Hiroki’s achievement of earning his black headband as the story of his triumph quickly spread through the army.

  Barbecues had started cooking the finest meats from locally hunted game, such as boar, deer, and elk and the smell of seasoned meat and spices overpowered the senses. Steaks, bacon, and sausages cooked on fire pits and everyone ate until their stomachs ached. They were living like greedy kings on this joyous night. Some warriors who could play instruments such as banjos, harps, and flutes began playing, creating an unorganised and rugged orchestra, a warrior’s orchestra. Drums were beating and the warriors were merry. They had been dancing and drinking honey wine and ginger spiced ale, seemingly enjoying this last day of relaxation, as no doubt combat would resume shortly if Darius had an exciting offer.

  Local whores from Darius’ lands and local villages had also entered the encampment to earn their coin for the night, perhaps sensing that the warriors here had become wealthy due to successful war vendettas. Whores were heard in tents, screaming and groaning with sexual pleasure, and those not in tents could be seen naked around campfires with their breasts out on show, luring in would-be customers. This was indeed a joyous night for all.

  The evening had approached, and the moon shone bright, illuminating the open green fields and encampment of the War Hogs. Food, drink, and whores were in full circulation of what would be the War Hogs’ last night of relaxation.

  On the edges of the camp, under the moonlight, isolated and free from noise and distraction stood a tent. Much like all the other tents, this black tent stood at eight feet tall. The ridge of this tent was sharp and perfectly straight, and the War Hogs’ crest had been sewn in on multiple locations with matching red ropes holding the tent firmly in place.

  Steam was emitting from the overlapping cloth doors, and sighs of relief could be heard. This was the tent of the young master swordsman Hiroki Mitsue.

  Having won his duel against Yoshihiro earlier in the day, Hiroki had been busy. He’d spent the day recounting the battle to his fellow brothers in arms who wanted every detail of how he bested Yoshihiro. The day had flown by, and now the duel seemed like nothing more than a dream. Hiroki knew that celebrations would go on into the evening, so he had decided to bathe before the evening celebrations, though wine, whores, and crowds had always been something he steered clear from, being naturally shy.

  This night felt different. Hiroki knew great battles lied ahead, and the sudden request from the rich warlord Darius had also piqued his interests. He also wanted to spend some time with his commanders to thank them individually for their guidance and tutelage over the years and he also craved an audience with his sensei, Yoshihiro, again to thank him for the years of training.

  One person occupied his mind more than ever—Angelika. They had been friends since childhood, and this friendship had blossomed into an unspoken romance. Her smile always made him feel warm inside; her laugh was addictive to a point he’d try harder than normal to make jokes that tickled her humour, and her cheerful personality made Hiroki want to be with her always.

  Hiroki had finished bathing in a giant timber bathing bowl which was kept toasty thanks to the fire pit underneath. He emerged from the bath to dry and ready himself for the evening. Thunder the baby dragon was curled up asleep, as like most baby dragons, the challenges of mastering flight and hunting prey could be quite taxing on young dragonlings.

  Hiroki began to dress. He wore a dark red kimono which had white stitched patterns of dragons covering it, and the kimono smelt of ginger and cinnamon. No doubt Yoshihiro had ordered one of the whores to clean the kimono in the alluring scent.

  Hiroki stepped both feet into a new pair of black geta sandals before Thunder woke. “Are you ready for tonight?” asked Thunder cheerfully. Thunder, excited at seeing his master, rose sharply and seemed to be full of life after a quick nap.

  Hiroki smiled. “You were in a deep sleep, Thunder!” he said merrily. “It’s been a wild day; the excitement has knocked me back a bit. I’m looking forward to some normality in the coming days.”

  Hiroki began petting his baby dragon under the chin. Thunder enjoyed chin and belly strokes, and it had always fascinated Hiroki that a dragon that could grow up to become a monstrous and powerful beast can have such sensitive tendencies and characteristics, no different to a cat or dog.

  Hiroki continued, “
When things quiet down, we can work on your flying, and you’ll master flight in no time! We might even be able to work on your fire blasts, but don’t kill any sheep this time—the farmers won’t be happy. We will have you blasting green fire like the first grand dragon Storm in no time.”

  Thunder yelped with excitement and began licking Hiroki’s cheeks. “Can I ask you something?” Thunder asked innocently. Hiroki nodded and Thunder continued, “The story of the first dragons, do you think something bad happened and that’s why they left?

  Hiroki had feared this question. How can I answer this? he thought. Thunder is young and yet to learn the ways of the world, he shouldn’t worry about such sinister conspiracies! After a few seconds, Hiroki gazed into the dragon’s eyes. “Thunder, I hatched you; we are bonded, joined by heart and soul, and I’ll never leave you. I don’t know why the first dragons left, nobody does.” Hiroki continued to pet his dragon, trying to keep the mood pleasant despite the awkward question. “I’ve told you of some of the evil in the world, the evil that killed my parents, and between the two of us, we have to get strong and rid the world of this evil. We will do it together, I promise!”

  Thunder responded merrily with a big scaly dragon smile which spread across his face. “When I’m big and strong, I’ll burn our enemies to cinders and all the evil that oppresses the innocent. I will lend you my power.” Hiroki and Thunder laughed and cuddled once more.

  Yoshihiro entered the tent and spoke to Thunder. “Oh, you’ll be more than big and strong, young dragon! If Davorin is right, you’ll be a grand dragon by the age of twenty, then you’ll be able to rule these lands!”

  Hiroki smiled at Yoshihiro as his teacher entered the tent. “There was no need to organise these celebrations for me, being trained by you is a big enough gift.”

  “Don’t be silly, boy! You’re a master swordsman now. Besides, no doubt everyone wants to celebrate my rare defeat, even if it was just a swordsman duel for a headband!”

  Yoshihiro laughed loudly, as did Thunder.

  Hiroki loved seeing his intimidating and fearsome master let his guard down and smile from time to time. All Yoshihiro had known was war and death, but love and laughter suited him, on the rare occasions he embraced it.

  “Right, Hiroki, feed yourself and speak with your commanders, no doubt they’ll have gracious words for you. When you’re done, meet me on that nearby hill on the other side of the encampment. Now you’re a master swordsman, I’ll treat you like one! I will reveal our plans for the next few months . . . oh, and I almost forgot. Angelika, very much like you, doesn’t like crowds. She’s by the old barn where we duelled in the morning. She’s alone, and wants you to come to her when you're done here.” Yoshihiro smirked, and Hiroki blushed.

  “We’re . . . we’re just friends!” reasoned Hiroki frantically.

  Yoshihiro laughed aloud again. “It’s not a crime to fall in love. As travelling warriors, a women’s embrace is one of the rare things we can enjoy!”

  Hiroki’s face was burning, Thunder even joined in the playful banter. “Hiroki and Angelika will marry one day . . . and probably have a family!”

  Thunder and Yoshihiro continued to laugh at Hiroki’s expense, and from the outside looking in, one would view them as a happy family, not members of a barbaric traveling army. “Knock it off, both of you,” an embarrassed Hiroki roared.

  Yoshihiro began leaving the tent, but turned back to speak to Thunder. “Davorin wants to see you before he flies back to Swordsman Shores. Go and be with your fellow dragon brother for a bit. It’s the first time you’ve seen one of your own kind, it’ll do you good. He’s just east of the entrance to our camp and is currently feasting on wild boar that he hunted, if you go now there may be some left for you!”

  Yoshihiro stared back at Hiroki and smiled. “Remember the hill, see you there.” Yoshihiro saluted, then left the tent.

  Hiroki gave Thunder a kiss on his golden scaled head. “Go, it’ll be good for ya! Davorin is one of the most powerful dragons on the map, you can learn much from him.”

  Thunder left Hiroki and flew off into the distance. Hiroki was alone with his thoughts. I never thought I’d have friends like these, let alone my own dragon! To be a skilled warrior surrounded by love and wise tutelage. I don’t want this life to end!

  Hiroki smiled to himself before picking up his sword and leaving his tent to see his commanders and celebrate. I think I’ll see Astaroth first, he’s probably caring for the horses.

  Chapter 5:

  Astaroth Dragonclaw

  Hiroki had begun to make his way to Astaroth, and he was stopped and greeted by his fellow members of the War Hogs seemingly with each step. The night of celebrations had started many hours ago. The food was cooking, people were dancing and playing music, whores were in competition with one another and tried to lure in the finest of warriors, and there were also pockets of warriors sharing stories of past achievements and predictions of possible new endeavours ahead. Of course, there was lots of honey wine and ginger ale to aid in the merry celebrations.

  Hiroki felt overwhelmed and could feel everyone looking, pointing, and talking about him, everyone seemingly knew of his victory over Yoshihiro. Step after step led to more congratulations, warm embraces, and handshakes, Hiroki was humble and shy, and did a classy job of accepting the well-deserved praise. The War Hogs boasted numbers of over three thousand and all were celebrating on this night.

  Astaroth was like all gargoyles, big and brutish, physically intimidating, but yet quiet and very much a recluse. Gargoyles had a long history of privacy; they lived in small tribes in secluded areas on the map, and even though these powerful beings were ferocious in combat, violence in gargoyle culture was a means of self-defence only.

  Hiroki knew exactly where Astaroth would be, and began to make his way to the makeshift horse stable, which was isolated from the ravenous partying. When he arrived, just as he predicted, Astaroth was seen brushing down a fiery red destrier horse. They glanced at one another and smiled.

  Gargoyles were peaceful creatures and loved the innocence of the wildlife that they share Dragons Continent with. They regularly looked after wounded animals, healing them back to health before freeing them, and Astaroth was no different; he had developed a love for horses in particular. Gargoyles had never fought amongst each other. They were one of the few races that could display a racial history of peace and prosperity amongst each other, and they were highly intelligent beings and spoke the Human tongue very well, as well as their own native language, known as ‘Gargolic.’

  Surprisingly, these brutish intimidating creatures did not live off of meat. Instead they fed on fruits and vegetables, which were grown and produced in their own tribes. They were very capable and intelligent farmers, being able to turn even some of the most rugged areas on the map into fertile lands to grow crops, fruits, and vegetables.

  A few yards from the stable where the mighty red destrier was being brushed by Astaroth lay a small burning campfire. The fire pit was circular, with rocks and stones forming the outer circle to prevent the spread of fire. The fire itself burned brightly, perfectly illuminating the area and revealing two thick logs for sitting. On either side of the makeshift seats were two bowls of oats, crushed berries, and dragon fruit.

  As Hiroki approached, the warmth of the fire met his skin. It was calming, and the sweet smell of fruit and berries that Astaroth had prepared surrounded the campfire.

  Astaroth had finished brushing the horse. “Good horse, rest now,” he whispered merrily before handing the horse a juicy red apple and a bucket of oats. Astaroth made his way to Hiroki. “Now, finally! My turn to eat!”

  Astaroth gathered the bowls of freshly crushed fruit that he prepared, then made his way to Hiroki, and they both began tucking into the juicy ripe fruit whilst enjoying the warmth of the evening campfire. Sitting next to Hiroki, Astaroth looked huge, and dwarfed the young swordsman with his enormous frame.

  Astaroth was huge, standing at ten fee
t tall; even by gargoyle standards this was impressive. He was eighty years old and in his prime, as the life expectancy of a gargoyle is two hundred years old, with some living even longer. Astaroth’s back, upper arms, and the back of his upper legs were covered in scales and were of red diamond-like patterns and visibly similar to a snake. His wings were jet black, and shone under the moonlight, which made them look as though they had been carved out of onyx. Astaroth’s skin that wasn’t covered in scales, including his face, the entire front torso, lower arms, and the fronts of his legs, was of a dark green colour, and there were all kinds of tribal markings all over his body.

  Gargoyles’ muscular bodies are traditionally covered in native tribal markings, which are painfully carved onto their bodies using razor sharp daggers that have been heated and dipped in colourful inks. These markings reflect combat achievements and signify status and position within tribes.

  Astaroth’s face looked as if it was chiselled out of stone. With thick cheekbones and a pair of sabre-like teeth, he had long black hair which was tied into a ponytail that reached down to his lower back, and he had a well-groomed beard. Astaroth dressed in traditional gargoyle attire with a short kilt made from animal fur. He donned silver gauntlets with matching silver shin guards that tied round the backs of his legs with black leather straps. Matching his fur kilt was a waistcoat-like garment, also made from animal fur, and he wore a giant silver shoulder guard above his left shoulder. The silver pieces of his attire had been crafted by Ragrim, and there were engravings of horses that had been etched onto these pieces with great skill. This was dwarven craftsmanship at its finest.

  Astaroth’s orange eyes looked to be glowing as he sat himself next to Hiroki at the campfire. Even sitting down, Astaroth’s broad shoulders and physique looked immense. “You fought well today. Besting Yoshihiro is no easy task!”