GR1M-R3AP3R-008

"Voices. High and low, young and old. But all of them frightened. Confusion reigns and fear rules...Darkness returns... Silence....No...not quite, the voices are still there. But they are subdued.... and quiet....What is going on? How much time has past? Where am i? Cold...So cold....Why cant i see anything....and the darkness.... beckons..." In the light of the early morning, Jakeant awakens in a famillar room, but it isn't his, it is his cousin's room. He is alone, and everything seems surreal. The Light is too bright, shadows too dark, and silence too perfect. "Warm...." as it should be, for Jackant is covered to his chin in two heavy w

Chapter Three As the eastern sky grayed, and the roosters began the ritual crowing for the new day, the village awoke and began to prepare breakfast and do their chores for the day, no one really paying much attention or caring if one of their sons or daughters only completed something halfway, after all they weren't doing any of their chores different from them anyways, everyone was waiting until the sun rose completely, the signal that the Spring Banquet had begun. As with most everyone else, Harkean and Veiena Sazzak were up and doing the daily chores that goes with running a farm, feeding the chickens, milking the cow, and preparing the

Prologue How many lifetimes have I lived? How many centuries has it been since I first drew my first breath? Heh. How many has it been since I drew my last? My mind is clouded by the echoes of time and the mists of the ages. But I can still remember, no matter how I wish to forget. I remember my life and my "birth" into this curse, this madness of Undeath. And yet, I am content. I look back and I know that my existence has never been a bane of those I wanted to keep safe, those that I loved. I remember my master, a goodly man, the firm, unyielding man who protected the village of my birth, as he did in the centuries before and since. I remem

Chapter 2 As the boy looks around the tree that he is hiding behind, he knows that he is in a perilous position. He sees that he is no more than fifty feet from safety, but he also sees the one that took out all of his friends and allies. As he sees the gaze of his foe turn towards him, he ducks behind the tree again. "Now what do I do," he thinks, "If he wasn't there, I could make it. Even if he was fifteen feet to the side one way or the other, I could make it, but he is straight in front, and I looking right at this tree, so I can't sneak around. What am I gonna do?" As he ponders this he notices a rock about the size of a mouse sitting

Chapter One The piercing cry of a child goes through the late autumn night, like an arrow in moonless night seeking the heart of the monster that looks over the village with greed in it blacken, dead heart. It doesn't know why that cry frightens it so, but he marks well the house that it springs from. As he slinks away into the dark the child quiets and is handed to his mother, for the first time. As the doctor lets the proud father and mother know that the plague, which strikes three out of the four births in the village from the very cursed land that their homes are built on, is not infected in this child. As the mother breaths a heavy sig