Coming around a sharp corner, they caught sight of something black, but at the same time light. It was surrounded by a deep blackness and it had tongues of fire that licked out of the maelstrom of darkness which surrounded it.
"Watch out! Dehekon!" Shendron roared.
Isurra watched him move. He was impossibly fast. "How does he move so fast?" She thought, but her thinking was cut short as a massive claw struck out at her. She moved out of its way so quickly that the Dehekon was forced to go off balance for a few seconds as it tried to counter the force with which it had struck! Shendron was at it in a moment, slashing a gash into the tendons of the demon's shoulder, and severing the nerves. Its left front paw hung slack, but the creature didn't mind, it would only be slightly slowed by this, and seeing Shendron, as he darted away, it gave a scream which rocked the room they had come in to. Isurra noticed that the wizard was nowhere to be seen, but she sensed that he was close by, dealing with his own problems. She collected her thoughts and focused them on the matter at hand. Shendron was soaked in the sticky black blood that oozed from the Dehekon's limb, but he faced it head-on, with the tenacity of the warriors she had known growing up. They were like he is now, but more refined and dignified when not in battle. But he was definitely quick. The Dehekon aimed a bite at Shendron's head, and it missed by miles, for even though the beast was fast, Shendron dogged and cut up and into its chest, before it maw was shut, biting into air. "Strange man, no wonder he is still alive, even as a mercenary." Isurra thought. She moved forward and drew her blade; the metal glittered with the reflections of the fire that came out of the Dehekon's body. She was aware that its first wound was almost healed, the demon fire was cauterizing it and soon it would only have a few scratches on its body, unless they acted quickly and dispatched it before it could become really angry!
"Stay away, this battle is not for women! You'll get in my way!" Shendron's voice sounded like a snarl, and for only a second, his eyes seemed almost animalistic. Isurra moved in on the beast. Strike! Its healing limb was severed entirely; it dropped to the stone floor. Her thin blade was soaked in the blood, but in a quick twist of her arm, she flicked the sword, and drops of thick blood fell to the ground, to congeal in a sticky mess. In again, a gash to its hind quarters. In and out, in and out, she cut to the bone and sometimes through it. The blood of the Dehekon covered her and she tasted its malevolence on her lips.
"Not even Shendron could keep up with my speed, quick as he is." She thought.
The beast was limping, almost dead, but its ferocity was not yet quelled. Shendron had cut away most of the face, and left a bloody mask of horror covering the beast, its eyes were almost useless. The time was now! Shendron moved in under the beast, and could make out the partings in the ribs, he plunged his sword in to the very hilt at exactly the right place; into the heart, and its beating stopped almost instantly. Isurra ran up the back of the thing and the flames bit into her heels. She stabbed her blade in at the base of the massive neck, and the Dehekon slashed at Shendron with its last energy caught him in the stomach, throwing him against the wall. It shuddered and fell, while Isurra, in one move, released her blade and jumped off. She tried to land on her feet, but when she connected with the dark black stones, pain shot up through her feet and she fell backwards. Isurra knew that a handful of people had ever faced a Dehekon from the front and survived. But Shendron had, and he was coming to, on the far side of the room. Her feet were burnt and she wouldn't be able to stand for a few minutes, until her feet healed.
"The wizard is still somewhere else, and it was probably the noise of his spell which had attracted the Dehekon." Shendron was a bit groggy, but he could think. "And these beasts are only summoned to the protection of something which even the owner should not ever get to again. Whatever we are after, it is no ordinary thing. I think I'll ask double when we get back." He got up and shook himself, his way of checking for broken bones. He walked over to Isurra. They were both injured, but alive...

Focus on footsteps...be human....that was the thoughts going through my head. I could not give away anything! Humans tread heavily...such noisy creatures, always announcing their arrival, that is why they were so easy to catch. I pulled my thoughts away from those days. I could not allow myself to be tempted. However, I have had no cravings, perhaps it is the spell...I held a certain respect for wizards, a kind of enlightened human, so I would never pray on Rowen. As for Shendron...he had his own secrets.
"There is no point in us all getting lost. Let us continue with the mission. The wizard will find us again." I said.
"And what makes you so confident that he will find us?" Shendron said raising an eyebrow.
"Don't underestimate him." I said with a sharp stare...perhaps a bit of an unnatural stare. I looked away and found my thoughts wondering again. I have known many wizards in my life, they are generally friendly, unless a person got on their wrong side...I don't like fire...that is why it is so important that I must appear as human to them as possible. If they knew, they could try to kill me...especially if they teamed up, they could actually get away with it!

All of a sudden, a booming voice cut through the silence of the castle! My sensitive ears felt as if they would burst! It echoed for a moment and then it was gone.
"WHAT was that!" exclaimed Shendron.
"A spell!" I turned around. The sound had come from a passageway opposite to the one the wizard had supposedly taken. "I think the wizard may need some help."
"Oh, lovely, is he already in trouble?" Shendron rolled his eyes. I ignored him and began to run -slowly...like a human.

How they underestimated him! He was a humble person by nature, but he also knew this. He knew that he was much more capable than the others seemed to think. But no matter. They would at some point come to realise his worth. Of course, this was not to say that he thought himself better than them, goodness no! Both were masters in their professions, possibly the top in the world. Unfortunately, though, he had a very independant streak in him which he was yet to find the spell to get rid of. He couldn't counth the amount of times he had gotten himself into trouble after wondering out of safe areas on his own. Not that he had ever gotten himself in over his head, but he still knew that life would be a lot easier if he would just accept the fact that it was often a good idea to stay with his group.

But he could worry about this tendency later. He had a castle and it's mysteries to uncover.

Even now he could hear his friends murmuring about his whereabouts. He also noted that the decoy he had sent ahead had done the trick. He had sent a shadow up one of the passages up ahead, albeit quite noisily. He knew the mercenary would not be fooled by this ploy for too long, so if he was to get anything worthwhile done he would have to move.

Carefully, quickly and silently he made his way down his chosen passage to the left. He soon found what he had suspected would be there. There was a large stone inside a transparent, oblong container which was suspended in the air by thin strands of copper. He suspected this to be the source of the eerie glow which was emanating from the lanturns in the main passage. He also knew that the only type of stone that could perform such a function would be Gerine, a rare and magical stone found only in this area. It could prove useful in his forthcoming mission. Their forthcoming adventure...

The stone would definitely be protected by all manner of spells and traps. It would take a few minutes to find out what spells were in place, but this was a simple matter calling only for a detection spell. The spell would detect all spells of moderate to high power in the surrounding area. He always knew it would be useful to have this spell at hand. He performed quickly, as he knew time was running short.

He discovered two very strange things on completion of the spell. Firstly, there were actually NO spells anywhere near to the artifact (besides his own protection and enhancement spells). Secondly, and more peculiar than the first discovery, was that the spell showed that there was an immensely powerful spell enveloping his companions. Obviously not of earthly origin, but then from where?

It seemed that this question would have to wait though, as he could hear muffled footsteps coming closer and closer. Now... time to think of an excuse...

Isurra didn't really have anything to be suspicious about, Rowen was making an expedition of a place which was older and stronger and more powerful than all the magicians of the Fourth Age put together! He would tinker perhaps, but at peril of his own life.
"The wizard is like all his kind!" The thought came into Shendron's head, and he knew he hadn't placed it there. He listened. But that was all, nothing else was said. He shivered. Glancing up at Isurra, he said, "He went into the passage in the right corner. He thought he was going quietly."
The voice was right though, he was like all his kind: Over confident! He had the aura about him off all-knowing, but in the mind of the mercenary, he was harmless. No person would be able to sneak away from him (or up to). He wasn't the best because he was unobservant.
"Let's go quickly! We have a mission, and we can't wait for him to fiddle around!" Shendron said.
"Yes, we need to get him, before he gets us into a mess. This place is not the kind you want to stay in too long." Isurra replied.
She made her remark seem casual, but he knew she was hiding. He didn't know what she was hiding, or how, or even for what reason, but he knew she was concealing something.

The old language was all over this castle...this place could very well be older than I am. It was an overwhelming feeling of fear and respect. The artificial light gave my eyes an unearthly glow. My hair prickled with the feeling of ancient magick...the time of the Gods. We walked down a long hall. The end was lost in darkness. A soft breeze caught my blonde hair, it had been irritating me -my hair- more out of frustration I tore a part of my sleeve and used the material to tie it up. I glanced at Shendron. He seemed absorbed by the castle. I frowned...where has that wizard got to? I stopped and looked behind me. He was no where to be seen. Shendron noticed I stopped.
"What's wrong, Isurra?" He said tensely.
"Where is the Wizard?"

Being the usually calm and collected person he was, it was quite unnerving for Rowen's friends to see him this apprehensive. But then, he had plenty reason to be apprehensive. Already the warnings the wraith had given him were coming true. The runes that had been so carefully etched in stunning detail onto the lanterns served two purposes. Whoever had created these symbols of ancient magic had been quite creative with their art, as they could be read in two different ways. In the more modern language of E'crrt, he could read of the tale of how Antaris had worked to restore what balance he could to Tyra, or earth as it was more commonly known, by recreating the gods of old. This process, of course, had come at a price. A huge price. It had cost Antaris his freedom. He was now trapped in his own spell of restoration, continually working to keep his delicate workings alive.

The story continued to tell of many of the other-worldly gods' involvement in this process, but all but the beginning part of the story were common knowledge to all learned people.

The runes had been cleverly arranged, however, to also form the castings of a spell in another, much more ancient language, the name of which escaped Rowen at present. By reading the runes from top to bottom, as opposed to the traditional left to right, he could make out a very grim, though vague, rendition of a curse. Unfortunately time had made quite an impact on these eons old inscriptions, which didn't help Rowen at all while trying to decipher them. What few words he could make out gave him a dim outline of the workings of this spell, and yet didn't make sense to him. All through the first seven lines of the spell, he could make out words such as "death," "pain," and similar types of unpleasant meanings, but near the end of the spell he found symbols of hope, light and redemption.

He decided to leave the spell for later contemplation.

He realised, once looking away from the etchings, that while he had been studying the lanturns at a leisurely pace, his companions had wondered ahead without him. This would prove an excellent oppurtunity for him to investigate his surroundings more thouroughly. He had a few spells up his sleeve which might help uncover some of the mysteries he had heard concerning this castle...

There was a slight breeze from no particular direction. The party was only about twenty metres away from Teimien now. The breeze didn't strengthen, but there was strength in it. It turned a little cold. Fifteen metres. It turned cold. Ten metres. It turned frigid. Five metres. It froze the plants around them so quickly that they shattered. Inside. It was dry, but had a smell of Harpies in it. No, not harpies, it was more malevolent. The three glanced at each other, with more than a bit of apprehension in all their eyes. The air inside turned their breath into wisps of visible vapour. The moisture from their lungs came into the air and remained there, solid, but ethereal. It seemed to be stuck, almost as if the walls didn't want it to come close to them. It wasn't cold.

They advanced. Inside, the castle looked condensed, somehow smaller. It was oppressive. The walls stared at them. It wasn't that any of them were imagining it, the walls were looking at them with no eyes, but they saw them, and the guests were unwelcome. Looking around them, they could make out everything clearly. The light inside was given by lanterns, hanging from the ceiling. The lanterns had patterns on the glass and the patterns cast the shapes of magic which Rowen recognized as the magic of the first age.

Three ages ago, the first age was a time of great power, and the wizards of the world had vied for ultimate power. In their lust for superiority, they had overthrown the gods of the world, killing them, and had brought a horrible fate on the whole planet. The gods were not only there as deities that require continual worship. They were the protectors of the planet, keeping at bay the cruel gods of other worlds, and protecting the earth from the Demons of Perdition. The balance had become undone, and the people of Ryna were in peril. The wizards had to agree on a pact of peace, coming together to weave the spells of Antaris. The only god left alive. They created the patterns and they cast the spells of protection. They saved the world, but at the cost of balance. The world of Tyra was always in a state of flux, being dragged into wars with other planets, even though no one knew of this except the god Antaris. He had been made earth's protector, and it was his task to defy balance and he was then the god of chaos, and the god of order; chaos for the universe, but order for Tyra.

Rowen was aware of their danger. This was a place of protection. They had been sent on a mission to a forbidden and magickal place where they were not meant to be. If they stayed they would die, but they could not go back, the cold would kill them before they could go three metres.

Shendorn drew his sword, and the runes on the blade were pulsing. This had only happened once before, but he did not want to tell the others when or why...

The sun began to burn my skin. I walked closer and closer to the edge of the path, towards the shadows. I glanced at the others with my false blue eyes. I had performed a spell to appear as human as possible. They need not know my secrets or true form. I had spoken in private with the Harpy. The foul creature had given me another mission I had to perform without the others ever knowing of it. I had to redeem myself. The past haunted me. The sun tore me from my thoughts, my eyes began to tear, the burning was becoming unbearable. The spell was wearing off. Slipping my hand into my grey coat pocket I removed a small blue glass bottle. I took a sip, the effects were almost immediate. That wizard knew his stuff. The sun seemed to waver and the burning feeling lifted. I put the bottle away and we continued our journey towards the castle. The liquid had replenished my fading eyes and now they shined. I felt the tension of the others. The castle...I had heard of it before...Teimien...mainly rumours, I think...I hope.

Rowen had always been a man of few words and more action. As an accomplished Wizard of Eonus, and the star pupil of his late master Wai Chi Yan, he definitely had no lack of feats to boast about. Yet he prefered to remain mysterious. Indeed, most would probably use that word to describe him. Mysterious. At this moment, however, even his silence was noticed by his companions. Mainly because they were too aware of their own silence, and wanted to distract themselves from this uneasiness. He couldn't have cared less though, as he was too deep in thought. For the last week he couldn't help but think of the strange encounter with the Harpy.

While the other two had discussed the Harpy's mission with Scrotz, he had been more than distracted. Right below the point where Scrotz had hovered above them, he had been in deep telepathic conversation with a wraith. The wraith, who called himself Ra, a bold claim indeed, had warned him of the power struggle they would become involved in should they accept the harpy's mission. He told a tale of how many of the Elven gods had come to a disagreement with Ra, the details of which the wraith would not explain. He did say, however, that they would be in great danger if they were to become involved in any way, but also that there would be great reward for the survivors of this struggle. Before he could enquire further, the wraith had faded away, an annoying but perpetual habit of wraiths which he had come to despise.

He had not yet let his companions of his encounter, as they had not seen this creature. Only the trained eyes of a wizard could see such other plane creatures, and such a revelation would only worry his friends further.

He surveyed the other adventurers with his icy blue eyes, trying to penetrate their thoughts and discern what it was of their mission that kept them so rapt in thought. Alas, he knew even before he tried that it was a futile attempt. Both were well trained in their professions and would long ago have taken some or other precaution against such attacks.

In the end he could only imagine what was going through the minds on either side of him. This at least distracted him from his own worried, so he continued to ponder this fascination while they all continued in silence.

One of the biggest reasons of worry in all their minds was the mysterious Harpy who had sent them on this mission. Shendron knew that he was on his own quest, even though he was going with his two friends on this undertaking. The retreating figures just reminded them all of the strange things they had lived through the past few weeks. As apparently shocking as the ghostly figures were, it would have taken a lot more to make an impression on their dulled senses. Everything in this land seemed backwards. Shendron looked at his companions with his frosty green eyes and noticed how they all looked younger, yet more weary. The Harpy had been very vague about the mission, but they were all mercenaries and each one of them was more than willing to work for her, at the price she had paid. They needed the money, Shendron needed the money. His mind was filled, suddenly, with the overwhelming urge to kill his companions, claiming their payment as his own. He restrained himself, knowing that what lay ahead of them could be almost anything. He needed them, for now.

The Harpy's only reason for the mission was that they should steal the documents in the Castle of Teimien because she needed them for her own ventures. Shendron was too salted to just accept a blind mission, he was a mercenary, and the best anyone had ever heard of, a legend. He knew that to walk blindly meant certain death on most occasions, but, he really needed the money...

The Harpy said her name is Scrotz, ugly name, but the race was only good for two things: Money, as in this case, and feathers. She had smelt of carrion when she spoke and her eyes betrayed her cruelty, despite the efforts to hide it. He didn't know what the documents were, but they were important. Whatever they were, he didn't care; all he cared about and knew he needed was money. His very first priority now!

He looked over at the two walking to his left, and wondered to himself why they were here.

As the three adventurors made their way down the meandering stone pathway, they couldn't help but notice the lush vegetation and beautifully landscaped garden surrounding them. They continued in silence, as they observed the magnificent sanctuary and at the same time reflected on the events of the last few weeks. What a lot had happened in such a short space of time! And now, here they were, on their way to the foreboding castle ahead of them, ready to enter the gates and face whatever it was that lay inside. Waiting.

Up ahead they could see the dim outline of two figures lying on a checkered blanket on the grass. A few notes of the melody being sung by the figures made their way to the trio, and held them rapt as their worries of what was to come momentarily drifted away, only to fade out of existance again. When they had caught their bearings again, they looked up to find the distant figures growing more and more distant, with only a faint hum now evidence to the haunting melody they had just heard.

They continued upwards, all the while not saying a word, as each knew what the others were thinking. Silently they kept their pace, never stopping, admiring the tranquility of their surroundings, and somewhere in the back of their minds always thinking on all that was troubling them.

This is my idea for the story. Hope you guys will go along with it. Going to create a setting in a moment. After that, I want each of us to work from the perspective of a character (of your own design), and even though we're all in the same story, we must show the differences in their perspectives. The story can go wherever we like, although I'd like the most important aspects to be:

a. Develop your character as the story progresses
b. It's a fantasy story. Feel free to use your imagination, but don't be ridiculous. (e.g. you're not allowed to have an all powerful, all knowing god who overcomes all obstacles at the snap of his / her fingers!)
c. We're the good guys. Of course you can have character flaws (in fact they're expected), but we are generally nice people ( / elves / dwarves / mythical beings / etc )

Um... I think that's about all I wanted to say. Oh, one more thing. If you feel it's time to start bringing in a change of scenery, be my guest, but just don't do it too often. I'm just creating a rough starting scene so long...

Ok, here goes!