Sorry for the lack of a post yesterday.  Internet was down yesterday and this morning so I didn't get a chance to post it for a while.  Anyways, here's yesterdays post.

Part LXVII: Field of Battle

Date: Kornun 21st, 114 A.U.

“The Mother Tree has spoken to me.”  High Priest Jaine addressed the remnant of the priests of the Mother Tree, seated around a round table.  “The Mother Tree has finally spoken after decades of silence and has made known unto me her mystery and what we must do to reclaim our fallen followers.” 

“The Mother Tree has spoken?”  It was the eldest of the priests that was speaking, one of the few that had been around during the Great Upheaval and had witnessed how the Mother Tree had saved them from the wrath of the elves.  Jaine was the only other priest who had witnessed their salvation that still believed in the Mother Tree.

“The Mother Tree has again spoken,” Jaine said.  “It was during my address to her that she heard my prayer and spoke unto me.  I was given the privilege of entering into the Mother Tree itself where she spoke to me.”  He lifted up two golden corsha arjla weapons and gently placed them—still in their scabbards—on the table.  “The Mother Tree gave these to me—the first and most powerful of the Old Weapons—which were given to us to protect our people.  Lost for decades, the Mother Tree has returned them to us and has shown me how we will bring back her followers.  The Mother Tree will rise again.”

The Elder Dragon snarled and a flume of fire erupted from behind the bars of the metal cage.  Freglak stepped back, before drawing closer to look at the Elder Dragon which was snarling inside, caught by the chains that held it in its prison. 

“Tamer—tamer I have made it, sir!” Frindle said.  “It is still evil—evil it is, sir—but I can control it well!”

“I know,” Freglak said, turning from the cage.  “Your victories the past couple months have been obvious.”

“But are you not here—you are here are you not because of the last battle?” Frindle asked.  Frindle had lost control of the Elder Dragon during the last battle and he had nearly destroyed the goblin’s forces before Frindle had managed to retake control of it and keep the elves from winning much ground. 

“That was one of the reasons for why I came,” Freglak said, turning toward Frindle.  Behind him, a group of goblins were practicing their shooting.  “I thought it would be wise to check up on how the Elder Dragon is doing to make sure that it wouldn’t happen again.”

“It was an accident—an accident it was, sir!  I was trying new reins as opposed to using his long ears—reins I was using sir!  It was the second battle and I hadn’t made them tough enough—tough enough they were not and I lost control.  I will make sure it doesn’t happen again, sir!”

“Yes…” Freglak muttered.  “Well, it is a pity that I already put down those priests and their blasted Mother Tree.  They would have had my head for this.”  He looked up.  “So what are you doing for the next battle?”

“I will use his long ears again for the next battle, sir!” Frindle said.  “His ears will I use until I make better reins!”

“Very good,” Freglak said and turned to see Major Erklen coming toward him.  “Major Erklen, it is good to see you!”

“It is an honor to see you as well, Lord Freglak,” Major Erklen said.  “I apologize that I was not here to see you when I first arrived.  I was detained by other matters.”

“It is no urgent matter,” Lord Freglak said.  “I assume there are no new developments since we last communicated via the Codex two days ago.”

"No, sir.  We are still preparing for the next assault of the enemy,” Major Erklen said.  “Would you like to see our defenses?”

“Aye.”  Lord Freglak walked with Major Erklen toward the defenses away from Frindle and the snarling Elder Dragon.

"You were mentioning the priests when I came up?” Erklen asked.

“Oh, that,” Freglak replied.  “I was just mentioning to Frindle that it was good that the Elder Dragon catastrophe did not happen while the priests still had influence over the people.”

“Aye,” Erklen said.  “You did well in putting them down.  Their stock has been utterly defeated.”

“Yes,” Lord Freglak said. “I shan’t expect to receive any more trouble from them any time in the future.  All that remains is for the Mother Tree to be destroyed by some fashion for the corpse of the group to finally die.  But enough about the priests and their blasted dying cult.  How is our war progressing?”

“You can see our defenses here,” Major Erklen said as he arrived at the top of the cliff where they had set up the embankment.  It overlooked the edge of the Great Forest, the forest falling behind it while down from the cliffs the open plains began, upon which Freglak could see the elven airships hovering about

            “I see,” Freglak said, gazing up and down at the various anti-aircraft missiles that they had set up.  “Do you have any idea from the elves how long they plan on continuing to pursue our forces?  They have been driven out of the Great Forest and don’t have much hope of winning anything while we have the Elder Dragon on our side.”

            “I have no idea,” Erklen said.  “It’s strange though…  It’s almost as if they’ve given up in some fashion.  The amount of reinforcements they have been getting have been lessening over the past couple months as if they are giving up their effort to exterminate us.”

            Freglak narrowed his eyes.  “It isn’t like Jaigran to concede a battle.  Mark my words, Erklen—I smell deceit.”  Freglak paused for a few minutes.  “Keep up the fight, but keep alert for any information you can glean from them.  Because I’m sensing a surprise that they’re preparing to spring upon us.  And I don’t like surprises.”

Bother.  I had tried to post this on Thursday, but for some reason I came on today and it was only saved as a draft and wasn't ever posted...  And I have no idea why...  Anyways, there should be a new comment contest coming soon...

Part LXXVI: Home Again

Date: Kornun 17th, 114 A.U.

Reynyagn stood on the crest of the hill, gazing down into the valley as he knew that he had finally found them.  Jroldin, Augger, and Brother Tomas came up behind him to stare down at the valley and at the huts in it. 

“Is this it?” Jroldin asked.

“This is it, I believe,” Reynyagn said.  “My tribe.  Stay here until I can assure them that you aren’t their enemies.”  And with that he began walking down the hill.  It had been two months since the Xavier Team had split in half on the search for the fabled Sla’ad golden weapon known as the Arglem, the weapon of the kings.  They hoped that with two golden weapons, they would be able to better stop Emperor Jaigran.  They had thus split in half to follow two different leads—half had gone to find a man named Hagion, who had been a key general in the war against the Sla’ad. 

Number 994 had discovered his name in the slave camp directory and so half of them had gone to infiltrate the slave camps and find him.  The other half, which Reynyagn was a part of, had gone to find Reynyagn’s former tribe in hopes of finding information about the Arglem there.  They had pre-decided to meet in a certain location at Kapton 2nd to regroup and share their information concerning the Arglem.  And finally, after a month of wandering through the remains of the former elven empire, they had found Reynyagn’s tribe.

Reynyagn’s pace quickened as he moved down the hill and entered into the valley, legs moving faster and faster as he ran down the hill, the dark forms of the Sla’ad coming into more clear focus as he drew near. A couple turned to stare at this newcomer as Reynyagn slowed down as the downward curve of the hill ended, now moving through flat ground.  Two Sla’ad came up to meet him, each holding corsha spears.  Reynyagn noticed the reel around their belts—evidence of the rezquiets that they had ready to draw.

Reynyagn slowed down as he put his hands up to signify that he was not a threat.  The two Sla’ad came up to him; Reynyagn was surprised not to recognize either of them.

“Who are you?” one of them asked.  “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.”

“My name is Reynyagn,” Reynyagn said.  “Former leader of this tribe.”

Goblet’s clinked and people sat back down in their allotted places as the chatter began.  Jroldin looked around, marveling at the numerous Sla’ad that sat at the table—more Sla’ad than Jroldin had ever seen in his life.  Course the only Sla’ad that he had ever known beforehand was Reynyagn, but still…

Reynyagn hadn’t left his wife’s side since they had arrived.  Jroldin couldn’t pronounce his wife’s name.  Reynyagn was seated near the head of the table next to his wife, as were the rest of them.  After everyone was served, the Sla’ad at the head of the table stood up.

“Greetings to our new arrivals and our old friends,” the Sla’ad said.  “For those new arrivals who have not met me, my name is Tzjearjlan, the leader of this tribe.  We welcome to the table Reynyagn, former leader of this tribe, as well as many of his friends.”

Taking the cue, Reynyagn pushed his chair back and stood up.  “Greetings,” he said.  “It is good to rejoin you all, though I confess that there are many of you whom I have not met before.  I suppose a word of explanation needs to be said for a couple things—my life, as many of you thought me dead—and my travelling companions.

“As many of you know, I haven’t been with my tribe since Traje of this year, when I went missing on a reconnaissance mission.  My group of warriors were ambushed by elves, who caught us by surprise, slaying all of us except for me, whom they spared in order to take me to appear before Emperor Jaigran.”  Low murmurs went throughout the crowd.  “Thankfully, their plans were not brought to fruition.  While being transported to the Mothership, while flying over the Great Forest, the elves themselves were ambushed by a group of goblins, who took them by surprise, overcame their ship, and freed me.

“I was then brought into the goblin civilization in the Great Forest.  In order to answer any future questions, there is a large civilization of goblins in the Great Forest who have kept themselves alive by scrambling the elves’ radar so that they didn’t realize that they all existed.  I was introduced to the goblin’s leader and became involved with their scheme to make the first major assault against the elves since the Great Upheaval.  Those plans were quickly changed.

Jroldin listened as Reynyagn detailed how he and Flek decided to follow the star to find the rest of the Xavier Team, how they met up with them, about the human and dwarf civilization, and about the plans they made in Araelia about the Xavier Team before being proclaimed and sent North.  He went on to detail their capture, their assault on the Emperor, their discovery of Augger, and then of what they had done since they found Augger.

“And here we are today,” Reynyagn said.  “Three members of the Xavier Team along with one of our friends.  It is a great joy for me to be in your presence, back with my tribe, although it will not be for a long time.  I come bringing friends, and a promise of hope through the Xavier Team.”

There was applause and Tzjearjlan stood up again.  “It is good to have you back, Reynyagn,” he replied.  “As you have told your tale to us, so it is fitting for me to tell you of our tale since you left.  After your capture, your tribe was set upon by elves, who had taken notice of them.  Your tribe managed to fend them off before going into hiding, where they came across my tribe.  Our twin tribes were both weak and so we joined to be able to better survive.  We began camping in this valley four months ago, after finding the deserted birth-place of the Mothership in a valley neighboring ours.”

Jroldin’s ears perked up at this.  The birth-place of the Mothership?  What was that?  But Tzjearjlan continued.  “We will do our best to help you and your Xavier Team to find the Arglem to be able to bring down the elves.  Tonight will be a night of feasting and celebration.  Tomorrow we will gather together a council and discuss the Arglem and the Mothership.  A toast, for new friends and old!”

“A toast!”  And glasses clinked.

Sorry about Saturday's post, or the lack thereof...  Saturday was busy, to say the least...  In the meanwhile, to make up for my forgetfulness, I'll be posting on Thursday this week to catch up on the missed post, so hopefully that's all good.

Part LXXV: Laying the Lines

Date: Kornun 22nd, 114 A.U.

Oldin, head of the FRI, looked up from his desk to see ex-Governor Astrid come in.  She didn’t have an appointment, but she didn’t need it—even if she wasn’t Governor of Araelia anymore.  She wearily sat down at one of the swivel chairs and turned to face him.  After quickly signing a paper, Oldin turned toward her.

“Just got back from a long foreign policy talk with Iraina and his crew,” she said.  As the caller and initiator of the Xavier Team, she had managed to get some policies and positions at work before she left to basically become the official head of the Xavier Team.  Meaning that she was the one who had all the contact info of the Xavier Team and that everyone—including the new Governor of Araelia, Iraina—would have to go through her first.

“How’d that go?” Oldin asked.

"It was alright,” Astrid said, sighing.  “We got into a long debate about what the Xavier Team should be trying to do.  We got our first message from them in a while.  Apparently they decided to split up in their search for the Sla’ad’s rezquiert weapon.  Some of them were going to follow a lead to find a slave in the elves’ slaves camps while the others were going to go find the Sla’ad tribe that Reynyagn was a part of and try to glean info there.  Anyways, Iraina wants to insert more control over the Xavier Team since he thinks they could work really well together if coordinated with our other spies among the elves.  And I, of course, think that things should just be left to them, especially since it’s so hard to send messages to us without the elves intercepting them that the communication lag would make it near impossible to work.  He says that it’s high time that we stop worrying about the elves intercepting us and just take the risk since, according to him, the reward outweighs the risk.”

“I see,” Oldin said briefly, not wanting to get into the power conflicts between Iraina and Astrid.  “Any news from Jroldin?”

“He says he really wanted to be among the group that was infiltrating the elf work camps, but couldn’t,” Astrid said.  “The others agreed he was probably the most qualified to being a spy—thanks to you—but in the end they found it would be better for him to be with the other group.”

“Well, I guess that’s how it works…” Oldin said, tapping his finger before looking back up at Astrid.  “Would you mind if I asked for your advice?”

“Go for it.”     

“Well, you remember the operation we did that had captured the other Astrid as well as Jroldin?” Oldin asked.

“Course,” Astrid replied.  “Go on.”

“Well, apparently the group was more deeply rooted than the one hideout we broke into,” Oldin said.  “Because it keeps coming up.  And we’ve been trying to narrow it down.  Unfortunately, since then we’ve had five people who have been important to the case killed by some freak heart attack.  So somehow this group can kill people via stimulated heart attacks or something like that.  And according to new info we’ve collected, they appear to be connected with the elves.”

"What?!”

“They’ve been sending out low-level signals out of the mountain, heavily encoded of course,” Oldin said.  “And some source is sending them back.  We discovered this a couple months ago.  The question then became who they were communicating with.  Our potential leads have been frustrating—most of our communicants have been killed by this gang—but we’ve found lots of small money transactions from a more open elvish-sympathy gang that runs throughout several other dwarven cities.  And given that there aren’t many people they could be communicating with outside.”

“Got it,” Astrid said.  “So what do they want, and what are you doing about it?”

“That’s the problem,” Oldin said, frustrated.  “We don’t know what they want.  All we know is that the low-level operation we were tracking that captured Jroldin and Astrid was merely a façade to try to hide the other parts of this operation.  So for now, we’re just trying to gain information.  We’ve talked a good bit with Iraina of course, and he’s helped us some, but we’re not getting much anywhere.  So I wanted to know if you had any advice.”

“Well, I don’t have all the information and people that I used to have,” Astrid said.  “So I’m not completely sure…  But if you’re correct that their whole drug-running operation was merely a coverup—well, it seems a strange coverup to pick.  And if they are conspiring with the elves…”

"It means they’re a step ahead of us,” Oldin said.  “That they know about where we are and are probably planning to attack us.  Iraina has begun to put together a better defense system, as well as trying to intercept and stop these transmissions without either of them knowing.  And we have our best experts trying to decode their signals, though we haven’t had much success yet…  I feel like we’ve been caught by surprise…  And we’re going to have to really step it up to get past the base that they already have here in order to stop them from spreading their tyranny into the mountains.”

Question of the Week: What are the elves trying to do in Araelia?

And now we get to hear from one of the good guys!  Yay!  Since I haven't fully revealed how the Arquenia Saga calendar works (I plan on doing that soon, as well as drawing up a nice map), suffice to say that it has basically been six months since we last left the Xavier Team in Book II...  Which means a lot has happened "off-screen" so to speak...

Part LXXIV: Interrogation

Date: Kornun 19th, 114 A.U.

The boy and the girl talked softly as they marched with the rest of the slaves back, eyes darting from side to side as they scanned the people around them, pretending that they had done this forever—that they were used to the life of constant tending of the immense fields and vineyards that provided the food and drink for the luxorious elves.  They wore their cloaks high, hiding their faces as much as they could underneath their hoods.  As they came to the large apartment complexes, segregated by the different races represented, the group split in several directions, according to the different races represented, each moving through different doors as the elven guards there checked to make sure that each one was authorized.

Moving through the doors, the two humans moved quickly, racing to be the first to the elevators.  Getting in the first car up, they waited as it moved up through the floors before getting to floor #19, the only ones to get off at that floor.  The moment the doors closed they moved fast, and the boy pressed a button hidden under his watch, glancing back at one of the security cameras as, after a moment’s hesitation, it moved to face the blank wall.  Running down the hall, they quickly came to a room number.  The boy quickly unlocked the door before the two slipped in, locking it behind them, before they moved into the bathroom, shutting the door in front of them as they waited.

“He had better have been ready for our signal,” the girl whispered.  “If he-”

“He’s trained,” the boy hissed.  “He’s done this forever.  He’ll have gotten the signal to shut off the security.”  Footsteps were heard outside and both of them were silent as they heard the key twisting in the door.  The door opened, and the footsteps came in.  They heard the door shut as the person beyond walked further into the room.  Now.

The boy quickly opened the door and stepped out, the girl following.  Suddenly aware of the other people in the room, the older man who had entered spun around, his scarred face contorting as he opened his mouth to scream.

“Shhh.”  The boy lunged forward, clamping his hand on the man’s mouth as the man struggled for a few minutes and then stopped, his eyes bulging.

“We’re not here to hurt you,” the girl said in a quiet compassionate voice.  “We just want to talk with you.  The security’s off, so they won’t know about this.  You’re free to talk.”  The boy slowly took his hand off of the man’s mouth.

“What do you want?” the man spat.

“Your name is Hagion, right?” the girl asked, her soft eyes gazing up into him.  But he scorned her gaze.

“What’s it to you?”

“My name’s Astrid, and this is my brother Monty,” the girl said, undoing her hood to let it slip off her head.  “We’re part of the Resistance.”

“The Resistance?”  Hagion had a disgusted look on his face.  “And what makes you think I won’t report you.”

“We’ve done our research,” Monty said earnestly, his head now uncovered.  “You were a key general during the War against the Sla’ad were you not?”

“What of it?” Hagion snapped, taking off his cloak.  “Why are you here?”

“We’re looking for this object.”  Monty pulled a picture out of his pocket of a golden rezquiert—a long glowing whip that was a primary Sla’ad weapon.

“I’ve seen many a rezquiert, but never a gold one,” Hagion said.  “I don’t recognize it.  You can go now.”

“It was known as the Arglem,” Monty said softly.

A spark seemed to go off in Hagion’s eyes.  “The Arglem?”  And then he shook his head.  “I’ve never heard of it.”  He began untying his shoes.

Monty gave a growl of annoyance, but Astrid spoke first.  “We’re not elven spies,” she said softly.  “We work for the Resistance and are getting closer to overthrowing Jaigran.  Your information could help us dearly in winning back this fight.  You were part of the entry group into the Sla’ad capitol.  Surely you at least heard of the Sla’ad’s fabled weapon.”

“Sorry,” Hagion said, his scars contorting as he shrugged, kicking off his other shoe.  “I haven’t heard of it.”  He took off his shirt as he sat down on his bed, revealing the numerous scars on his stomach.  The white hairs on his chest moved as he stared up at them.  “You ought to leave.”

“You’ve surely heard of it,” Monty snapped.  “What’s in it for you?  I suppose there’s no need for you to turn around.  It’s already obvious that you have many scars on your back from the elven whips. Why are you resisting us?”

“I have no need for this conversation,” the man said hoarsely, turning as he hung up his shirt, revealing the scars that Monty predicted would be on his back.  He turned back to face them as he shook his head, his bitter eyes staring at them.  “You will gain no help from here.  Just leave.”

“But-”

“Look, it was the one Sla’ad treasure we never found, alright?” Hagion snapped.  “The Sla’ad took it somewhere else for safekeeping and we never found it, except for snatches of some Keystone Chamber where it might have been hid.  Now go!”

“But-“

“It’s too late for you anyways so I might as well say,” Hagion said.  “Your cover was blown.  I was supposed to stall you until they caught you.”

“What?!” Astrid shrieked.  “But you—why?”

“I had no other choice,” Hagion whispered.  “I’m sorry.”  There was a loud noise at the door.  “Now go!” Hagion yelled. 

Monty ran to the window.  “Move, Astrid!”

Astrid ran after him as Monty threw himself out the window.  Astrid took one look, and then in a split-second decision, wrapped her arms around a surprised Hagion as the door behind them exploded.  And then she threw themselves out the window after Monty.

Question of the Day:  Who is Hagion and what is a quick backstory of him?

Part LXXIII...  a part I have had planned since when I first decided on what the culture of the goblins in Arquenia would be like.  I've been awaiting this post for a while...  and now the plots and schemes of Freglak will get a bit more complicated...

Part LXXIII: Murmurs of Awakening

Date: Kornun 20th, 114 A.U.

High Priest Jaine applied the holy oil to his forehead, bowing several times as he approached the Mother Tree, now deserted and forsaken of all of its former followers.  Although his thoughts were supposed to be empty—leaving his thoughts open for the Mother Tree to imprint her conscience upon, they were anything far from it.  Before there would have been an audience—priests and goblins coming to see one of the monthly addresses to the Mother Tree.  Instead today, Jaine could only see a couple goblins who were standing around, but Jaine could see that they weren’t here to see him.

Everything had gone wrong for the Mothertree.  It had all really started with Freglak’s uncle, and the scheming plans he had devised before they had managed to replace him with his nephew Freglak—a disastrous move in retrospect.  Freglak had learned too much from his uncle about why the priests were evil and how he was to thwart them.  Jaine had been itching for month to gain the leverage to be able to replace Freglak..  But it was his alliance with the Elder Dragon that had broken the nearly-frayed bond between them.  After that, they had had no choice but to publicly denounce Freglak and replace him as Lord, electing a goblin named Narlen in Freglak’s place, a goblin they had thought they could easily influence.

Unfortunately, the populace was well against them and quickly decried this move.  With Freglak a hero, Narlen had received several death threats from anonymous goblins before he publicly renounced the Mothertree and pledged himself solely to Freglak.  And then…  Along with Freglak’s public mockery of the Mothertree and the continual victories being won out by the Elder Dragon, their group of priests had turned into a laughingstock.  The believers fled—even many of the priests renounced their vows and joined Freglak’s side.  And Freglak was anointed the sole Lord-Protector of the Great Forest, marking the completion of his rise to utter dominance.

Now all that was left of the worship of the Mothertree was a corpse—a ghost of what their belief once was—the only remaining priests ashamed of their duty—and all their believers scared into hiding to avoid the public mockery and shame that was now synonymous with the worship of the Mother Tree.

“Great tree of the ancients,” High Priest Jaine muttered, invoking the holy script.  “Sole protector of the Forest.”  A title which the heretic Freglak has claimed for himself.  But Jaine tried to ignore the thoughts within him as he continued his prayer.  “Oh Great Mother of us all, the Tree from which we gain our life and meaning!” he cried out, but he knew his heart was not in it.

“Oh…  Oh Mother Tree…”  Jaine fell on his knees as he broke the long-held ritual, with no one else around to see the first break in their ritual in the past one hundred and fourteen years since the Mothertree saved them from the elves.  “Your people have forsaken you!” he cried out.  “The Lord of the goblins has committed sacrilege, usurping your title and power for himself as he tries to make war against the elves without you!  He has broken the traditions, spurned the holy symbols, and committed sacrilege against you!  Your followers have dispersed—forsaking faith and fearing shame and have so rejected you!  Only a handful of your true followers remain!  Am I to be the only one who still believes in the promises?”  Jaine cried out in distress.  “Am I to be your last one standing when all else have gone away?  Am I the last in a long line of believers?  Why have you rejected us and let your people to go astray?  Your people have forsaken you for another—bring vengeance upon them!  You have seen what the heretic Freglak has done—how he has made an unholy pact with the Elder Dragon of old—how he has spurned the use of the old weapons with the profane guns.  You have seen how he has publicly put himself forth as an alternative to you—wrestling the status as ‘Protector of the Great Forest’—a status which belongs to you alone!  Rise up and be our deliverer!  Bring your call of vengeance!”  Jaine slowly looked up, tears streaming down his face.  “Don’t let your knowledge pass out of our memory…” he whispered.

A pulse rippled out of the Mothertree as the grass stalks bent and the trees swayed in the invisible storm that shook the earth as High Priest Jaine stared up at the rippling Mothertree, the moss peeling off of it as it shuddered.  Before his eyes, a door opened up, the wood moving and twisting aside to form a dark passage that descended into the Mothertree.

“Come.”  High Priest Jaine stayed kneeling, too breathless to move—too scared to dare that his wish might have come true.

“Come,” the voice repeated.  “Come.  And I will teach you the secrets of the Mothertree.  You will be the scythe in my hand to wrack vengeance upon my foes.  Come.  And I will teach you how you will be my prophet.”

And High Priest Jaine entered into the Mothertree, which slowly closed behind him.

Question of the Day: What will the Mothertree tell Jaine to do?

_

And thus begins Book III: The Quest!  I'm excited to begin posting again and looking forward to writing Book III...  I've got a lot of things planned and a lot of side-plots that will begin gearing up this book to prepare for the final climax in Book IV...  Let's go.

Prologue: Forged from Fire

Date: Kornun 18th, 114 A.U

The pale elf walked down the metal catwalk over the raging flames beneath, metal pounding on metal as the steel was slowly forged out of the fires below for the parts needed to upgrade the Mothership into a higher model, able to do all that would be necessary in light of the hastening cataclysm that would shake the very foundations of Arquenia.  Walking down metal stairs, the elf walked over toward the head foreman of this plant, who deftly saluted him as he saw the pale elf coming toward him.

“All hail, Watcher of Jaigran,” the foreman said, bowing his head.  “I have been expecting you.”

“Aye,” the Watcher said coldly.  “I have come for a report of all the progress that you have made over the last month.”

  “We are well past the half-way point in preparing the upgrades for the Mothership,” the foreman said.  “We’ve tested out our models in space quite profusely over that time.  The air exchange unit still has some trouble adjusting to the vacuum of space, but we have it in near-working condition.”

“I see,” the Watcher said, his voice devoid of any emotion.  “And the workers?”

“A few of the goblins tried to cause a revolt two weeks ago, but they were quickly put down,” the head foreman said.  “There haven’t been any problems since then.”

“I see.”  The Watcher was quiet for a few moments as the metal banging on metal continued behind him, sparks flying in the raging flames.  “How durable are the models?”

“Excuse me?”

"How durable are the models?” the Watcher said.  “Have you taken into account what would happen if there was a collision in space?  Would the Mothership hold or not, and how extensive and lengthy would it be to fix it?”

“I-” the head foreman began, and the Watcher suddenly realized the answer to his question.

“You haven’t tested its durability?!”

“I never thought!” the foreman began.

“It is your job to think of these things—not mine!” the Watcher snapped.  “Your lack of foresight could cost us lives.  The life of the Emperor himself, as well as all of elven civilization is at risk here!  It is your job to think of these things, not mine!”

“Forgive me, my lord,” the foreman said, falling on his knee.  “I have failed in my duties and I beg for my life.”

“Get up,” the Watcher snapped.  “I am in no mood for your pitiful groveling.  You will do better next time or you will be thrown into the flames that you have stirred up.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord.”

The Watcher turned to go, his feet slowly climbing the metal stairs as he walked over the precipice of flames, gazing from side to side.  How fierce were the raging flames.  But it would be nothing like the flames that would purge the world of their enemies.

Question of the Week: What does the Watcher have planned?

114 years before, under the command of General Jaigran, the elves made war against the other races of Arquenia with their allies, the orcs, and having defeated them, rose up in their airships to live in the skies, above all the other races...  This event is commonly known as the Great Upheaval.  Now those remaining strive to stay alive under the oppressive reign of the elves...  and to fight to strike back against the elven tyranny...

Flek was just your average goblin warrior--albeit the best goblin fighter that had ever lived--and one with a voice in his head--a voice that Flek would tell no one else about.  Flek wielded corsha weapons, weapons that used a burning hot metal as their blade.  Under Lord Freglak, the ruler of the goblins of the forest, Flek awaited for the day when they would be able to come out of hiding and strike back against the elves.
 
Finally, that day came.  According to their reports, an elven transport would be passing over the Great Forest carrying a Sla'ad--a race that almost no one had seen since the great war against the Sla'ad.  Seeking to get an ally, Flek along with his band of fighters boarded the airship, quickly taking over it as they freed the Sla'ad, a mysterious leader named Reynyagn who agreed to help them in their fight against the elves.

And the fight came soon.  After hearing of the takeover of their airship, the elves began sending forces to discover who this before-unheardof threat was and to exterminate it.  Around the same time, a star appeared in the skies--a bright electric-blue star that hadn't been there before, causing much talk among the goblins of what it could be.

Reynyagn explained that the star was one that had been prophesied before--a star that the prophesies said would call together a group of warriors from each race that would have to work together to take down the greatest threat to Arquenia that ever existed.  And, according to Reynyagn's perceptions, he and Flek were listed by the prophesy as the representatives of their races that would join this group, commonly referred to as the Xavier Team.

And so, after finally getting permission from Lord Freglak, Reynyagn and Flek set off to follow the star and find their allies that would help them in their war against the greatest threat to Arquenia--the winged elf known as Emperor Jaigran and his army of elves.  After journeying many days, the star led them to the mountains where the dwarves had used to live before the Great Upheaval.  There, they found beneath the rock a whole country of those who called themselves the Resistance--those who still tried to fight back against Emperor Jaigran and his elves.

And Flek and Reynyagn weren't the only ones to find this place by following the star.  Soon they gathered together a group of people.  An elven rebel named Zarien who had tried to disable the Mothership--the prize of Emperor Jaigran's fleet; an orc known as Number 994 who had once fought against Zarien, but now apparently had joined Zarien in the fight against Jaigran.  A female human medic from the Resistance named Astrid also was called, along with a young dwarf named Jroldin.  Along with one more elf, a quiet one named Rider who had spent most of his life in hiding planning how he could destroy the elves, the team was complete--one member from each of the six races and two elves formed the Xavier Team.

Meanwhile, Emperor Jaigran was not idle.  He had long been trying to figure out how he could destroy the rebels once and for all, and now he was being offered help.  Receiving a strange message to come to the Citadel of Tzel-Maret, Emperor Jaigran decided to go there and see if the mysterious being that sent the message would indeed be able to help him against the rebels.

The Xavier Team, now fully formed, likewise set out to the north to see what they could find.  Their mission however, was soon put at risk.  Ambushed by renegade orc tribes, the team was split in half, most of the team captured by an orc tribe led by Farshore Garum, while Reynyagn and Number 994 met up with another orc tribe who promised to help them to free their friends.

Farshore Garum, aware of the power that the Xavier Team could have, decided to use the Xavier Team for himself.  Planting microchips in their skulls that he could detonate if he was within a mile of them, Farshore pressed them into joining him to help him topple Emperor Jaigran, whom Farshore had learned would be coming to the Citadel of Tzel-Maret for some mysterious purpose.  Learning about Jaigran's visit, Reynyagn and Number 994 decided to go to Tzel-Maret as well--both to free their friends and to try and fulfill the prophesy by defeating Emperor Jaigran.

Meanwhile, Lord Freglak was dealing with his own problems.  The host of elves were invading the jungle and were consistently beating the goblins back.  Worse, the cult of priests that worshipped the Mothertree, a large tree in the forest that they claimed saved them from the elves, were trying to use their power to get Freglak out of office to instate their own ruler in place.  And as Freglak tried to keep back both threats, he was losing.

As Emperor Jaigran explored the Citadel of Tzel-Maret to find the being who had sent him the message, the assault on the citadel began.  Leading the imprisoned Xavier Team, Farshore Garum and his troops entered the Citadel to try and assassinate Jaigran as Number 994, Reynyagn, and their friendly tribe of orcs tried to do the same.  Trapped, Jaigran dueled Reynyagn and Rider for quite some time before managing to slay Rider, only for Reynyagn to mortally wound Jaigran and throw him out the window.  Meeting up with the rest of the Xavier Team, rejoined, the Xavier Team managed to escape and get out of the reach of Farshore's detonator.

But Jaigran wasn't dead yet.  Managing to fly up to a window, Jaigran collapsed on the floor but managed to get up, the loss of blood abating, as he entered into a chamber in the middle of which was a dark void, where he met the Watcher.  The Watcher told him that his golden corsha weapons that he had had magical powers that enhanced his skill, his healing, and also elongated his life to be able to outlive all other elves.  The Watcher promised Jaigran a deal--to help Jaigran to destroy the rebels once and for all by finding the seven golden corsha weapons and using them to unleash the Watcher's secret plan.  Agreeing, Jaigran and the Watcher began working on a plan to destroy the rebels.

Meanwhile, Lord Freglak finally got his stroke of luck.  A certain goblin commander managed to find and awaken the Elder Dragon, a dragon of ferocious power that the goblin managed to control enough to wreck devastation upon the elves.  Using the Elder Dragon as his weapon, Jaigran managed to beat back the elves and use it as an excuse to send the plotting priests packing.  In full control, Lord Freglak continued to fight the elves--but this time he was the one winning the battles.

Having escaped from the Citadel of Tzel-Maret and now aware that Jaigran was still alive, in despondency, the Xavier Team stopped by a volcano to assess their situation, gazing up at the star as they tried to hope that they could still win with the loss of Rider.  Suddenly, out from the volcano came a large humanoid lizard who introduced himself as one of the auggers, the mysterious seventh race of Arquenia that no one else knew existed.  Their race had been almost wiped out centuries ago and few people remembered them.  This augger, calling himself Augger after the name of his race, said that he, not Rider, was supposed to be the seventh member of the Xavier Team and now complete, the Xavier Team pledged themselves again to their goal of defeating Jaigran once and for all.

This so far is the story of the Arquenia Saga.