Jason And The Wraith King - By Dave

[Blackwolf-Dave]

This story is loosely based on furry things. The main character transforms into my interpretation of a shade, and forms a spiritual and mental bond with a wolf companion. Plot details for the future may include the main character being able to transform into a werewolf. Also may include a pink were-dragon who has her eyes on the main character for some naughty reasons. Also WILL include ALOT of furries, but this is just the beginning... and I am working up to the good stuff.

The story is WAY too long to post in one post so I will in separate posts.


#1

A young boy of sixteen by the name of Jason travels home after a hard days work. Jason is a boy of average stature but very muscular for his age, he has blond hair and bleu eyes. Little did he know that this day would be a changing point in his peaceful, uneventful life. As he turns the last corner on the rough gravel trail leading to his small hovel, he finds himself gazing upon a marvelous yet also terrible sight. No words could quite describe the feeling someone gets when confronted with a creature born in the Abyss, and young Jason will never forget it. To this day the shrill screams of his family and the sight of his hovel -the only home he had ever known- burning haunt his dreams, and he wonders why the demon spared his life. The fact that he could do nothing to ease the suffering of his family only compounded the feelings of sorrow, grief and loss that now fill him. That day was twenty long years ago. Since then Jason has had only one thing on his mind, the fact that his honor demanded that he avenge his family’s death. Since that day, he has trained himself in the art of combat and joined with mercenaries hoping to gain further skill with his weapons. Jason had always skill with a bow even when he was a boy. Now, with his experience fighting for powerful men who desire yet more power, any friends or relatives he might have would no longer recognize him. His once fair facial features are now weathered and slightly scarred; his once honey-blonde hair had a tint of brown. Gazing upon the demon had awoken something deep inside of him, something he could not explain or understand, like a personality that gradually took hold over the past twenty years. The world of Trieldum has been a troubled one for as long as many can remember. Ravaged by plague, war and, on occasion, hideous beings born in the abyss. The ancient defenders of the land have perished long ago. The once proud Trilian knights were once a symbol of all that is good and true. But they have dwindled, and became little more than myth in these dark times. Trilian knights were an elite class of people, if you still considered them human. They forsake all ties of blood and kin for fear that their adversaries could exploit them as a weakness. They train to and beyond the limits of human endurance and more often than naught possess powers that would help them fulfill the oaths they must take. The people needed a hero, someone to look up to, someone to tell stories and grand tales about… Someone to vanquish the darkness…
　
　
This brings us to the present, when Jason is out practicing his newly found trade of hunting mythical beasts and monsters, hoping, in the back of his mind, to one day find the demon that killed his family. As he pulled back the string of his bow, preparing to let the arrow fly that would end the life of the harpy, an evil bird-woman, which stood but a few feet in front of him; he heard the faint snap of a twig behind him. “Shit!” He thought furiously of what to do. Any sudden movements could break the cloaking spell he had cast upon him, thereby revealing himself to the deadly harpy. Yet if he did nothing, he thought to himself “that twig could have snapped under the boot of someone who meant harm,” and they would succeed. He decided on a plan of action that was risky, but held the best (if still slim) chance for survival. He let the obsidian tipped arrow fly, and a split second later he had turned and threw a handful of polished steel throwing knives he always kept in his belt. But they hit nothing save for air and trees. Some might have thought it strange that the harpy did not scream or make any sound at all before it died, but that was precisely what Jason meant to do. He wanted to avoid detection in case there was someone or some thing nearby that happened to be fond of the harpy he was sent to eliminate. His cloaking spell was broken by the throwing of the steel knives, so he had to rely on his woods craft to escape to his secluded lair unscathed.
Lyeisden forest was no place for people who had no means of defending themselves, or even in fact some people who could under normal circumstances defend themselves. It is one of the most dangerous places in the dangerous world of Trieldum, which is why Jason chose to reside there. He would be close by to a good portion of his bounty, and only the people that had reason enough to risk traveling through the woods would have tasks worthy of his expertise. Myth hunters are a rare enough sight these days, and he did what he could in their stead. They are not the Hunters that hunt deer and small game as you might believe, but being a myth hunter means that you slay all that is evil, for a price of course.
Jason crawled through the dying underbrush, making barely any noise. Then, he suddenly felt weak, and his vision blurred. Breathing became extremely difficult and he slowly passed out, with no idea what was happening.
“Damn it!” Jason cursed as he once again became aware of himself and his surroundings, noticing he was no longer in the woods of Lyeisden but in a small room with a hot fire burning in the corner. Considering he had no recollection of how he got there, he came to the conclusion that he had let his guard down and somehow been captured. But to his surprise, his hands and feet were not bound and there was no one in sight so he was left to himself to sit on the edge of the soft, straw filled bed and ponder how he got there and what to do next…


Jason got up and walked to the heavy wooden door, he wanted to escape. He was not surprised to find the door locked, but he was surprised to find that there was no keyhole. He kicked the door and pulled on it with all his might but could not budge it. After about ten minutes of battling with the door, he gave up and went back to the bed. Without warning, the heavy door that confined Jason to the fowl chamber opened on poorly oiled hinges, making an ear-piercing squeal. And through it stepped a woman hunched over with age, she looked so fragile that Jason thought he could break her in two simply by shoving her. She grinned a rotted smile which made Jason think of tales of witches he had heard as a boy. He waited for a full five minutes for her to do or say something, not noticing as the door which he tried so hard to open earlier closed silently on its rusty hinges. As soon as he decided she would sit there until she died of old age, she let out a horrid cackle that sent a chill down Jason’s spine, but he refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing she could unnerve him. “Oh have I waited for you, Jason of the taught bow!” said the old lady. Her enthusiasm startled Jason almost as much as the fact she knew who he was and was waiting for him.
“How do you know my name, and how did I get here?” Jason wanted nothing more than to be outdoors, where he knew always what was going on around him, at least he thought until he woke up here apparently caught off-guard within the woods he called home. But he did not let any of his emotions be displayed upon his face; his pride was still intact, but for how long?
“Many questions you have but am I the one to be answering them? Am I the evil one who drove you to this path of life? I will tell you one thing, Jason of the taught bow. The next time we meet it will be under… Distasteful circumstances.” The old lady cackled again, the effect was the same as before, and like before he did not give her the satisfaction of seeing that she was unnerving him. He wondered at what she meant by Distasteful, was it a threat or a warning?
“Speak plainly or not at all. I do not take kindly to those who would try to confuse me” Jason stated rather bluntly.
“Ah, but you seem to forget your situation and where you currently stand,” the old lady observed.
“That is exactly what I would like for you to reveal to me!” He retorted. She smiled that disgusting smile yet again and held it until she saw him shiver.
“That is not what I meant.” she said, pointing to the floor at Jason’s feet. Before he had the chance to react the floor collapsed beneath him and darkness engulfed him…

[Blackwolf-Dave]

Jason awoke with a dull ache in his head. “Curse that damned witch to the abyss!” He muttered and began surveying his surroundings. It made no sense; he was in a forest, but not any he had ever set foot in before, the trees were taller that any he had ever seen in his life, he could sense magic emanating from the very earth and stone he stood upon. But what happened? I’m getting tired of waking up in strange places, he thought. As he marveled at the beauty and the perfume-ish scent of this strange forest, he had once again let himself be surprised. He mentally chastised himself for it. Bracing for immanent death at the hands of some strange, magical creature, he whirled around. Only to be challenged by a little silver wolf pup not much larger than his foot. For the first time since he could remember, he actually felt like laughing. It was a strange feeling to him and he enjoyed it. “Hello there little fellow!” he greeted the little cub. Nothing could have prepared him for what would happen next.
“Hello Jason of the taught bow, it is good to see you.” He panicked, not understanding what had just transpired; he heard the wolf in his head!
“What foul magic is this!?” Speaking to someone’s mind directly was considered an abomination by his former people and culture, especially without consent. As if the pup had read his mind, retorted:
“But you have consented by greeting and talking to me, have you not?”
“How did he know what I was thinking?” Again, as if on cue the pup answered the question in Jason’s mind.
“I hear your thoughts and you will hear mine if you open your mind, Sir Jason, knight of Trilian,” replied the little wolf.
“What?” Jason replied, dumbfounded. The wolf pup cocked his head to the side quizzically.
“Do you not know?” Jason fumbled about his thoughts;
“Did he just call me Hunter?”
“Then the situation is graver that I thought, come, Jason and I will explain as is my duty as your companion, sealed to you during the ceremony, albeit a pitiful ceremony.” Jason did not know what to do, and when he hesitated, the wolf pup reminded him. “You have little choice but to follow me, or risk being lost in the forest of Waylithe.” As much as he hated the thought, the wolf pup was right, he had no choice. So he reluctantly followed the little wolf pup through the strange forest, all the while examining –and memorizing- the new environment. He needed time to himself to think about all that had just happened. Who was that old lady? Why am I following a wolf pup through a magical forest and speaking to him through my thoughts? It was all so strange but he was confident that he would stumble across the answers once they got to their unknown destination…
　
　

“So, while we are walking through this huge forest, would you mind answering some questions of mine, little wolf?” Jason asked.
“I am in no position to answer any questions you may currently have, that is why we are going to Trilian city, Sir Jason,” replied the little wolf.
“Trilian city? But that place no longer exists!”
“Patience, Sir Jason, all will be revealed soon.” Replied the wolf.
“Why do you keep calling me that?” asked Jason. When the wolf didn’t reply, Jason began to get frustrated. But for some strange reason, he didn’t blame or resent the little wolf in any way. After long hours of traveling through the immense forest, Jason spotted a glint of silver, only a dot on a mountain from the distance he stood. When they came closer, Jason could see that the wolf was indeed telling the truth. They were heading to the fabled Trilian city. He recognized the city, made seemingly of pure silver. Every child in Trieldum learned the story of Trilian city, said to have been built by powerful wizards in times long past, held together by an unimaginable magical force. But it was also said that as the wizards who created the beautiful city died, the city slowly collapsed and all who ever set foot inside died of some unknown sickness. It was also said to be the headquarters of the Trilian knights, an elite group of heroes who risked their lives for the greater good. Jason discarded the stories when he was a child because he knew that no heroes came to the rescue when his family was massacred by a demon born in the abyss. But now this strange wolf is calling him a knight, he did not know what to make of it, but decided he didn’t like it, especially considering the knights were said to be extinct. When they approached the city, Jason realized that it was in fact made of silver, the most beautiful city in the world of Trieldum, right in front of him. He also noticed there were no guards at the front gate, strange.
“Do not be frightened Jason, there are no guards because no living being can get through Waylithe forest without guidance. No living being has even found Waylithe forest for over 1000 years now. That is a tale I might tell you at a more forbidding time, for we have much to discuss with Grievance, leader of the Trilian knights.” They walked through the crowded city, gleaming bright in the sunlight. Everyone cleared a path for them and they walked past smithies, libraries, apothecaries, and continued to the largest building that lay in the middle of the silver city.
　
　
　
“HALT! Who dares approach the great hall of the knights?”
“It is me Grath, stand aside please,” said the wolf pup. Reluctantly, the towering, muscular, heavily armored guard named Grath stepped aside to let them enter the building they found in the very centre of Trilian city. Upon entering the great hall, Jason quickly looked around for threats, not that he could do anything if there were any. He had lost his weapons when he was caught off his guard by that weird old woman. To his amazement, the interior hall was made out of pure gold. Golden statues of great heroes long past lined the walls and stood almost as tall as the ridiculously high ceiling. As they approached the gigantic door at the end of the hall, it opened just enough for a small, richly dressed man to creep through and greet them. He asked their names and then blew into some weird whistle he had on a silver cord hanging on his neck. The great golden doors opened silently on hinges the size of two men and revealed a hall similar to the one they just stepped out of, except the roof seemed to slant down and the walls slant in until they came to an average sized door also made of pure gold. As they approached the door, it opened on its own. This room was a little easier on the eyes, as it was not made of sparkling gold or silver, it was a big room with a deep red carpet and bright red walls with great paintings similar to the statues outside. Where does one collect such extreme wealth? Jason thought as he observed the indoor scenery. He expected the wolf to answer again, but to his relief, got no such response to his thoughts. Instead, his question was answered by a middle aged man with graying black hair and a well-groomed beard dressed in quality clothing with a crest over his heart. The crest depicted a Dragon fighting with a Griffon.
“One does what one can, Jason of the taught bow,” he said. Jason had so many questions he wanted answered and had the feeling this was the man who would answer them. He sat down in a comfy chair across from the man and started asking his questions, only to be interrupted by the wolf pup that, since entering the great hall, had been silent.
“Master Grievance, what Jason meant to say was that he is honored to meet you and thankful for your hospitality.”
“Yes, that is what I thought I heard, but I can see the young man is impatient so I will answer one question, and then you will be taken to your rooms for the night for a chance to freshen up after your long journey,” Said lord Grievance. One question!? Jason thought of the one question he wanted answered the most. “Why is this little wolf calling me ‘Sir’ Jason?”
“Ah, so there is much to explain to you then, it seems you have suffered the side effects of the binding spell. I will tell you this much, you are now a part of the order of Trilian knights. That wolf pup is bound to you, has become a part of you and you a part of him. I will explain the rest later, but now you must rest.” He snapped his fingers and a servant led Jason and the pup through the halls to what looked like a kings personal chambers. Much like the last room they had been in, grand paintings and tapestry’s hung on the walls. It had an opening to the large garden outside where the wolf ran immediately.
“Lord Grievance will see you at dawn tomorrow, in the mean time you may bathe and sleep, supper will be brought shortly.” Said the servant and before Jason could thank him disappeared through the heavy wooden door…

[Blackwolf-Dave]

When dawn came Jason was already awake, finding it difficult to sleep because of his excitement. Yesterday he had attempted interrogating the wolf pup, but to no avail. So when the same servant came to escort him he was more impatient than he had ever been. “Would you accompany me, Sir Knight?” He gladly accepted the guide, even though he had memorized his way around the immense building yesterday. When they arrived in the same room they met grievance in yesterday, he was sitting in the same chair, wearing the same clothes. Jason amused himself with the thought that maybe he hadn’t moved since they last spoke.
“Ah, Jason, please take a seat, we have much to discuss,” he said in his deep, commanding voice. “Now, ask what you will and I will do what I can to answer your questions.” This pleased Jason immensely and he started recounting the strange events since his killing of the harpy, then asking about the old woman. After a long pause, Lord Grievance replied. “It seems you have met Haag, she is a wood witch and a mischievous one at that.” Jason still didn’t understand how he came to be in the witch’s house, but decided it was not as important as the other questions he needed answered first.
“What did you mean by side-effect of the spell? When did I become a knight?” asked Jason. Grievance then began explaining the spell that was cast upon him, how they met and the circumstances of witch he was admitted into the order. Apparently he did not remember anything because the spell that bound the souls of him and the wolf pup can, in rare cases, disrupt your memory, similar to being drunk but without a sickness in the morning. He also explained the oaths Jason had taken.
-I swear on my blade, my honor and my life that I will
-Protect those who are helpless
-Destroy evil in all forms great and small
-Protect the honor of the order of Trilian knights
-Until death take me or my master release me
The ceremony for admitting someone into the order is usually a major thing. Everybody in the city usually comes. When Jason took his oaths, none were present but High priest Barry, Lord Grievance and Arch mage Harrok. Grievance then went on to tell Jason of how the knights have all been killed except two, him and the other, who broke the oath that held him and betrayed the order. Since then he has wreaked havoc on the lands of Trieldum, it is said he can take the form of a demon and raid small villages for sport.
“He is called Omenthroth.” When Jason heard this his eyes went blank, Grievance waved his hand in front of Jason’s face but it was useless. Jason was remembering the day he laid eyes on Omenthroth as a child. When he finally came to his senses he was still silent, his past was his own, not to be shared with everyone who crosses his path. “I will serve the order Grievance.” He swore that if there was one good thing he accomplished, if it was the last thing he did before he died, Omenthroth would die by his blade.
“And so shall it be, Jason of the taught bow.” He recognized the voice of the old woman in his head, but no longer cared. There was only one thing he could think about. Revenge.



When Grievance told Jason he was to report to the academy and train every day until he was deemed ready to perform his duty as a knight, Jason was furious. “I am skilled with bow and blade, old man! I have trained with masters in the art of war and fought with mercenary bands for years. I doubt the fools in your academy have anything they could teach me,” stated Jason. Grievance took his first serious look at him, sized him up and seemed to come to a conclusion.
“Show me these skills you posses then.” They walked to a large silver building, similar to all the others in the crowded city. “This, my friend is the academy, the place where the greatest swordsmen ever to live have learned and taught,” said Grievance They went inside and Jason was offered a set of plain steel armor in the style of a knight, which he refused and chose plain steel chain mail and leather, thinking he would be better off with maneuverability over protection. He donned his armor and selected his weapon, a simple but sharp one and a half handed steel sword. “Defend yourself, Sir Jason. I am challenging your honor and the honor of your order.” Jason took his battle stance in the centre of the arena and waited. Grievance, standing at the edge on the small arena, un-sheathed a huge two handed sword that hung across his back. The sword was seemingly made of pure silver with gold runes engraved down both sides of the blade. The sword matched his armor. He was a fearsome sight indeed. The lord cleared the space between them with tremendous speed taking two leaps and without his reflexes he gained from twenty years of fighting experience, Jason might have been decapitated. Grievance moved with incredible speed especially considering the sheer weight of his armor and weapon. He struck at Jason with blow after blow until Jason began to tire; he had no chance to retaliate because he could barely defend himself. At last the lord disarmed him and placed the point of his great sword on Jason’s throat. Jason demanded a rematch and this time he was on the attack. Grievance said a short, incomprehensible word. As soon as Jason’s sword hit the lord’s armor, it shattered and he was left holding nothing more than a hilt. “There is always room for improvement, young Jason. In your case not much, but nonetheless, you can improve.” Jason stood there stupidly eyeing the hilt he held in his trembling hand.
“How do you move so fast?” Jason asked.
“When you come to embrace your position as a knight and strengthen your bond with Carnage, you will have the same power as me if not greater. As it is your power grows with time, notice how you have rejuvenated from that fight so fast? Most men would be so out of breath they would not be able to stand.” Jason pondered this and asked if they had a range to practice with his bow. “But of course! Follow me, I wish to see how you compare to the other archers in the city. This will be interesting indeed.” Jason followed Grievance to the archery range and let his thoughts trail to the little wolf pup who had led him here. As if at his bidding the little wolf appeared beside him.
“So that’s your name then? Carnage, have you been here all along?” asked Jason.
“Yes Jason, I am impressed with how well you fought master Grievance. Most fall to his test within seconds, yet you lasted almost twenty minutes before being defeated.” Carnage replied.
“You look bigger than yesterday, little one.” Jason observed.
“I will grow fast, Jason.” They walked together behind Lord Grievance…
　

[Blackwolf-Dave]

As they stepped up to the range, Grievance spoke privately with the other young archers. When they finished Jason spotted grins on the faces of all but one. He made a mental note to find out why. Grievance then sat on a golden throne and motioned for his archers to fire on a target set so far he could barely see it. They did, and all but three missed the wooden target. The archers that missed stepped back and watched from the side as the three remaining archers loosed their arrows until only one hit the target. “Good! Jahmir, you may yet make captain in the guard.” Jahmir was a tall, slender man in his early twenties. At first glance he looked like one of noble birth, especially considering the gold trimmed velvet uniform he wore. Jason intended to talk with this archer later to find out more about him. “Now we will see these skills you have, Jason of the taught bow.” Grievance made a slight signal with his hand and Jahmir loosed an arrow at a fresh target that had been set up during the time in which the archers exchanged pleasantries. The arrow flew straight and true, hitting the center of the target over the extreme distance. You could see the delight on the face of Jahmir when he realized his lucky shot. Then all eyes were on Jason, Carnage came behind him carrying his favorite bow in his jaws, the one he had lost to the witch.
“Thank you.” Was all Jason could say for there was but two things in his world, his arrow and the centre of the target. He took the bow, notched an arrow, pulled back the string and let the arrow fly with startling speed. The arrow whizzed by Jahmir’s head and cleared the distance to the target in milliseconds. The arrow hit Jahmir’s arrow right in the centre, shattering it. He notched another arrow and instantly let it fly with the same, whizzing speed. It struck his arrow and shattered it. He repeated this for five shots until Grievance finally said
“Enough.” Jason looked around the range to see that a small crowd had gathered and all but one jaw was dropped seemingly to the floor. The same archer who would not smile when the others would, Jahmir stood pouting in the corner.
“Excellent, Jason. That was a true display of extraordinary marksmanship!” Carnage said. Jason had since gotten used to the voice of Carnage in his head, in fact he found it useful and, though he would never admit it, comforting. He decided to attempt speaking to Carnage through his mind.
“Do all wolves talk? There is still much I do not understand about you.”
“No, Jason all wolves don’t talk, when we were joined we shared certain abilities with each other. I gained the ability to speak and the wisdom of an elder human, you will soon gain increased strength and speed. I see your vision has already improved, you do know it is night?” That startled Jason, he noticed a slight green twinge in the corner’s of his vision but dismissed it, assuming he was becoming ill. He had night vision!
“That, my friend Jason, was skill. I now see where you got your name, would you follow me inside? We have things to discuss and time is short,” asked lord Grievance. Jason agreed and they entered an office of sorts. Grievance spoke a word of magic and the runes carved in the wooden door glowed, indicating the room was muted from anyone who might be eves dropping.
“Magic! I’ve always wanted to learn the arts of magic, all I can perform are simple cloaking spells.” Jason stated. Grievance only grunted, for the first time since Jason met him, the friendly mask of his face was removed. He looked weary and troubled.
“Jason, times are troubled. This city, as you surely know, is the last bastion of true peace and good in the world. You must train in these halls as much as possible before embarking on your journey. I know what it is like, being new to the order. The excitement, the impatience for wasted time. Promise me Jason that unless the need is dire, you will not leave the city until your training is complete.”
“I will obey, my lord.”

So Jason trained, every morning at dawn he went to the academy, learned magic and practiced with his bow and sword. He also studied the ways of the knights with lord Grievance. Every day Carnage was by his side, he also trained in his own way with High priest Barry and Arch mage Harrok. The bond between the knight and his soul mate grew stronger with every passing day. Jason didn’t forget about Jahmir, they talked when it was convenient and learned things from each other. Six months passed since the day he arrived in Trilian city, Jason’s training went smoothly and he made friends such as Grath and Jahmir, even master Grievance seemed to beam with delight when he saw Jason. It was too good to last; Jason knew nothing his whole life but his solitary world until he came to that city. There came a day when Jason was walking the battlements with Carnage, with his enhanced vision he spotted an unfamiliar darkness over Waylithe forest. “Jason, we must alert master Grievance, this could be bad,” stated Carnage. Jason agreed with him and they ran as fast as they could down the strangely empty streets. They arrived at the entrance to the great hall to find that even Grath, who was always there before, was nowhere to be found. Jason entered the hall while Carnage went to search the city for anyone, anyone at all.
“Hello?” The echo was enormous and he winced at the broken silence. Nobody answered him so he decided to explore. He checked every room. He came across a musty smelling food pantry, servant’s quarters, dining room. He searched and found nobody until only one door remained unopened, the quarters reserved for lord Grievance. “Should I knock or just go in?” Jason asked Carnage but strangely, got no reply. He started feeling strange; there was emptiness inside of him, a vital part of him torn away. It made him weak and he felt the urge to lie down and sleep, but he couldn’t, he had to find out what was going on. He reached for the door, and was surprised that his hand would not obey him. His vision blurred and he started falling, falling into darkness… He woke up with a start to find Carnage right beside him on the battlements.
“Jason! What happened? You just fell over and I could not wake you,” asked Carnage. Jason got up; ignoring Carnage he jumped off the wall into the city with a loud snapping sound as the silver bricks beneath his feet shattered. “Have you gone mad!?”
Jason had no time to explain so after he caught Carnage he just said “Later.” He ran down the crowded streets of Trilian city with amazing speed and reached the great hall yet again, the sight of the building made him sick. Grath greeted him but Jason just pushed past and ran to Grievance’s personal quarters leaving Grath sprawled on his ass at the entrance. Seconds later Carnage jumped over him in pursuit of Jason. Before Jason could kick the door in Carnage was in front of him, blocking his path. Jason stared into his eyes for long seconds then with his mind said “you will let me pass.”
Carnage looked at him for a few more seconds and then responded “I cannot disobey you Jason, but hear this, whatever you are thinking, bloodshed can wait for discussion.” He then moved out of Jason’s path and after rattling the golden handle; Jason kicked down the door to find Grievance sitting at his mahogany desk, reading an ancient tome. With his enhanced vision, Jason could see that the book was not written in any language he knew. It looked like some kind of spell book. When Grievance did not greet or even seem to notice him, Jason cleared his throat, making as much noise as he could, but to no avail. Grievance seemed entranced so Jason walked closer and noticed an ethereal blade sticking through the lord’s chest. Jason circled the corpse of his master and gripped the hilt of the sword in his back. His glove disintegrated into smoke and his hand was branded with the image of a black skull. He let go and screamed, for no sane man could bare the grip of a wraith blade. Carnage was at his side in an instant, looking for the danger. The candles which lit the large study-like room blew out and it took a few seconds for Jason’s night vision to kick in. When it did he wished he hadn’t come to this place, anywhere in the world would be a better place to be at that time. An unearthly laugh sounded behind him and he turned very slowly…

[Blackwolf-Dave]

Surrounded by skeletons and wraiths, Jason reached for his training sword on his belt with his branded hand, his sword hand. The closer his hand got to his blade the more it burned. His hand shook and beads of sweat appeared on his face. Carnage growled at the fragment of pain that escaped across the mental link Jason tried to close to spare his companion the pain. He finally gave up, defeated, he waited for his fate. A path cleared for one particularly powerful wraith, wearing a gruesome crown. It held the sword that had killed Grievance. “The one true knight left in the land, to dispose of in what way I please.” The voice in Jason’s head was raspy; he knew it was not Carnage so he assumed it was the wraith in front of him. “I am the wraith king; you would do well to bow in my presence, Jason of the taught bow,” stated the wraith.
“I bow to no man, and you would do well to remember it,” Jason replied, he had a plan. He just needed to buy some time and regain his strength.
“Is that so?” The wraith king started to laugh and so did the other undead creatures surrounding them.
“NOW!” Jason sent his message to Carnage and the wolf leaped into action, growing to the size of a regular wolf in the air and engaging about half of the enemies in the room, during the distraction Jason’s training kicked in and he said three quick words. Three lesser wraiths simultaneously dropped to the floor, writhing in pain and faded from existence. He cupped his hands and channeled his magic into them, creating balls of fire the size of fists. He then whipped one at a group of skeletons and they exploded into small, flaming fragments of bone. He whipped the other at the huge mass of enemies that had cornered Carnage, finding him by following the trail of bodies with his eyes across the floor. The explosion took its intended toll on the enemies, killing two wraiths and six skeletons. But it also distracted his wolf, and he felt a stabbing pain in his leg. It was not his leg; he felt Carnage’s pain from the wound a skeleton had inflicted upon him. He ran to rescue his wolf but was slashed across the back of his leg, making him fall to the floor.
“ENOUGH!” Jason heard the raspy voice in his head, it was abnormally loud and it felt like his skull was in a vice. He looked around to find that the entire room full of undead warrior’s had stopped fighting, clutching their heads and dropping into small, black holes that opened beneath their feet. All that remained was the wraith king, who hadn’t moved since Jason had attempted to escape. “I am impressed, knight. You have more heart than skill, but you will serve my purposes,” stated the wraith king. Jason stood and looked for Carnage. He found him sprawled in the corner, suffering from numerous wounds.
“Jason, leave me, I will be fine. Deal with the wraith,” Carnage pleaded, bleeding from the mouth. Jason was reluctant to leave his companion but had no choice; he stood defiantly against the wraith king, the wound on his leg leaving puddles of blood around him. He was dying, just too stubborn to acknowledge it.
“Your purposes? I will never help the likes of you. I would sooner rot in the abyss!” said Jason.
“Indeed you shall, but not yet. You will help me whether you like it or not, Jason of the taught bow. Your feet have been set on a path which will inevitably end in your death, and my rebirth.” Jason took one step forward, then another, his lifeblood draining on to the floor. He grabbed his sword and tried to un-sheath it, but it weighed a thousand pounds. He willed himself forward another step, the thick red carpet soaked with his blood. He reached for the wraith king, hoping to throw back its hood. If he were to gaze upon the face of the wraith king, the wraith would be banished back to the underworld. His arm would not obey him, his vision clouded but he pressed on, channeling all the energy left in his being into moving his hand forward. His branded hand met cold steel and gripped the sword of the wraith king, the ethereal blade that had killed his master. He could not see it but he could feel the sword’s presence, it had been bonded to him similar to the way Carnage was bonded to him, only this was an evil bond, a forced one. He started to fall into darkness. He did not expect to rise again.
　
　

Grievance sat at his desk, an ancient tome of radiant power lay before him. “So it has come to this…” A soft knocking sounded at the door.
“Lord Grievance? Is everything alright? I heard quite the commotion earlier.”
“I am fine Grath, return to your post please. No one is to enter the great hall until I say otherwise.” There was a pause, then:
“Understood my lord, none will enter.” Grievance waited a few seconds to make sure Grath had gone and opened the tome of the wraith king. He gazed upon the pages, trying not to wince and he felt a wave of pure evil hit him. He murmured a simple spell he had learned from High Priest Barry, intending to protect himself from the corruptive powers of the book. The presence he felt tugging at his soul receded. Satisfied, he resumed reading the tome. He found the text difficult to understand, being inexperienced in the field of dark magic. After long minutes of page flipping, he found the passage he was seeking. The light turns black, the living die, the dead rot. All will enter the abyss. He read it aloud in the language of magic, as he did so the room gradually darkened. Holes opened in the floor, where undead minions crawled into the room. Evil, disturbing, throaty laughter rose from the largest hole in the middle of the room. Flames rose from the holes and slowly, the wraith king rose with them.
“I am glad you have finally fallen into my trap. I am now one step closer to my objective,” said the wraith king. Grievance thought about this for a moment. Noticing his disastrous mistake, he attempted rising from his desk. Before he could budge, the wraith king sprang into motion. In a blur of speed the wraith king cleared the distance between him and the desk. He circled around and slid his sword into the back of lord Grievance. Grievance felt the sword inside of him, the coldness of death leaking out of it into his body. He then said in a strangled voice, his last word.
“Why?” He slumped forward in his chair, darkness took him and he knew no more. The wraith king ignored the death of his prisoner, answering his question.
“Do not always believe visions you have in your sleep. Did you actually think a wraith would care for a petty organization like yours? I simply used you to get to Jason, I will aide him in the slaying of Omenthroth. Once that petty fiend is out of the way, I will take control of Trieldum and end the suffering of all living things, by taking their souls into my… Protection.” The wraith king then scanned the city for his prey. Finding Jason on the battlements, he sent a wave of thoughts, twisted to hide any useful information. Knowing Jason would soon arrive; the wraith king stood in the shadows, motionless, and waited.

[Blackwolf-Dave]

Wrong again. Jason woke up in his room in the great hall of Trilian city. He rose from his bed, walked to the window, feeling very awkward. It had been so long since he had come to the city and discovered a meaning to his life; he had almost forgotten the cold, empty feeling that lay dormant within him. He did not remember what had happened since he had walked on the battlements with Carnage. “Carnage, where are you?” He did not get a reply and that worried him immensely. When he reached the window he found that the sun burned his skin. His eyebrows raised, he pulled back his sun burnt hand, exited his room and walked down the corridor. He was confronted by Grath, but instead of the usual clasp of friendship, Grath drew his sword, a look of horror in his eyes.
“Who are you and how did you infiltrate the great hall!? I am taking you in for questioning about the murder of Luke the Grieve-stricken, lord of Trilian city. Murder? Infiltrate?
“Grath, stop. What is this all about?” Grath’s eyes seemed to light up with recognition, then dull as his face settled into a mask of puzzlement, anger and concern. “Jason, you had better come with me, you have a lot of explaining to do.” Jason was still confused by what was going on, he hated the feeling. At the moment, he had no choice but to follow Grath down the grubby looking corridor leading to Grath’s office, and the holding cells.
“Jason. Help me I don’t know where I am but I sense you moving farther away. I’ve been drawing on your strength to stay alive, haven’t you noticed?” Jason had almost forgotten about Carnage when he had run into Grath. I must save Carnage, Jason thought. He weighed the importances of his two conflicting tasks and come to the conclusion that any news Grath had could wait. Deciding that talking to Grath about his predicament would only cause more complications, he stealthily slid into the next doorframe they passed. He waited a few seconds; satisfied Grath was long gone he stepped back into the musty corridor and ran back the way he had come. Feeling strangely light on his feet, he decided to push himself to run faster. Before long the doorframes and paintings that now lined the walls whizzed by. Faster and faster he ran until he came to the front door, he then stopped on a dime, not feeling tired at all. Remembering his ordeal with the window earlier that morning, he fetched a dark cloak and some black leather gloves from the near-by closet. Completely covered in black, the sun didn’t burn him much at all. In fact he found his sunburn had healed already. He walked among the peasants and they avoided him like an unwelcome presence. The few faces he managed to see had looks of grief and sorrow upon them, seeming to confirm the news Grath had given him that lord Grievance was indeed deceased. Using the mental link between him and his wolf to his advantage, he began his search. He walked around the whole city, not noticing the peasants cowering in fear as they saw him. Putting his hand on every wall and door of every silver building he passed, attempting to sense the presence of Carnage. The sun was beginning to irritate him but he pressed on, putting the pain out of his mind. After hours of searching, Jason left the city, searching Waylithe forest. Walking amongst the immense trees, he remembered the first time they had met. It was under similar circumstances; but this time he was the rescuer.

Jason continued his search for his lost wolf in Waylithe forest. When evening approached he found a small wooden cabin and he knew it was where Carnage was being held. He walked up to the cabin, making no effort to conceal himself. He would meet the bastard that dare keep his wolf prisoner head-on with cold steel. He slowly opened the door, at the same time flexing his right forearm, letting a silver dagger fall into his hand from the sheath hidden in his sleeve. Noting the green tinge in the corner’s of his sight, indicating it was dark inside, he scanned the interior of the small wooden cabin. It was just as ugly inside as out, with a rickety table and two wooden stools which stood in the centre of the room. Cobwebs hung in every corner and everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. Jason walked around inside the cabin; he knew Carnage was there, he could feel it. He looked more closely at the walls and floor. There you are. Jason thought as he spotted a small throw-rug in the far corner that had been hastily set down. Jason grabbed the rug and flung it away, revealing a trap door. Sensing Carnage moving farther away, he swiftly opened the door and dropped to the pitch black tunnel below. It took a few seconds for his vision to adjust, and when it did he caught a glimpse of rustling robes at the end of the rough rock tunnel. You’re mine now. Jason thought as he broke into a run, intending to catch the wearer of those robes he just saw. He used his speed and, after a few seconds he was in front of High priest Barry. “J-Jason...” Barry stammered. He had no time for this.
“Shut up, priest. Where is Carnage?” High priest Barry swallowed hard, breaking into a cold sweat. This was the first time Jason had seen the man up close, his thin blond hair was turning white and he looked older than the forty years Grievance claimed he possessed. Barry pointed a shaky hand back toward the way Jason had come. Jason turned and was surprised to see Arch Mage Harrok standing in front of him now. His long black hair flowed down his back, and he rubbed his well-groomed beard with his right hand, as if trying to remember something. Jason was about to say something when Carnage warned him “Jason! Look out! You are in danger!” Jason reacted instantly, kicking Arch mage Harrok in the chest so hard he heard multiple cracks. Then turned to face the priest, realizing he was too late. The priest had his staff pointed at Jason’s face and before Jason could react to the new danger, Barry screamed “jinrathi!” A brilliant light shot instantly from the end of the staff into Jason’s face. It burned and stung like a million needles were being pushed in and out of his face. His eyes felt like they were going to explode and he screamed an inhuman, high-pitched scream that would make any hardened war veteran’s blood run cold. Unconsciousness tugged at him, but he refused to be beaten by the priest. Blinded and dull-witted from the excruciating pain, Jason gripped his dagger and charged forward. Barry clearly did not expect this and was caught completely off-guard, knocked onto his ass. Jason found Barry’s throat and slid his dagger across, feeling the warmth of blood wash over his hands. Barry attempted to scream, but could only manage a strangled gurgle. Jason had his dagger under the priests jaw, and pressed up until only the hilt was exposed. Feeling a strange hunger take hold of him, instinct took over and he started licking the blood from his hands. Feeling it rush through his body and renew his strength. He looked, unseeing, into the eyes of the priest he had just killed, and a spectral figure started to rise from him. Jason was taking his soul. Barry fought but it was useless. Jason had no control over himself, what he was doing disgusted him but he couldn’t stop. Barry’s soul entered him and he felt an overwhelming pleasure. The pain in his face disappeared and his vision began to return. Jason stood and turned, grey smoke rising from his shoulders. Arch Mage Harrok knelt on the ground in front of him, a look of pure horror and disgust on his face. Jason could see, but his vision was different now, there was no green twinge, there was no color at all. Everything was black and white. He could hear the Mages heartbeat and as the strange blood-frenzy he had gone through came to an end, realized the full extent of what he had just done. A black tear ran down his ghost white cheek. Jason pulled back his hood and revealed to Arch Mage Harrok the face of a shade, half human and half wraith. Midnight black eyes, white skin and black hair that ran down to his neck. Harrok gazed upon Jason’s face, and instead of the “wraith” being banished to the abyss, Harrok screamed. A dark hole opened in the floor below him and he was sucked into oblivion. Jason fell to his knees, his hands at his sides. What have I become?

[Blackwolf-Dave]

Free from Harrok’s spell, Carnage limped down the musty rock tunnel, clinging to life the way Jason so often did. He was determined to find out what just happened to Jason. Carnage refrained from leeching Jason’s energy, but he did so when he felt he was going to pass out. When he did it seemed like Jason was a bottomless well of energy. Jason was alive and well, he knew that much. But the emotion emanating from him was very strange. Grief, disgust, horror; the weird thing was that those thoughts were of himself. Maybe he killed Harrok and Barry, but he had never shown anything but delight, or nothing at all, when he had taken someone’s life before. He now knew how Jason felt when they had first met, tons of questions and not a single answer. He regretted holding his tongue, but the past was the past and nothing could change it. Carnage continued his laborious trudge through the dark, rocky tunnel, trying desperately to reach Jason. When he eventually rounded a corner, he saw that last thing he wanted to see in his condition, a wraith. As much as he hated the thought, he needed help. “Jason, help me please. There is a wraith walking toward me! I cannot fight it I am too injured.” There was no reply from Jason, Carnage began to panic. He tensed, ready to pounce at the shade if the need arose. The wraith stopped just out of reach, and pulled back its hood. It must be a dream; Harrok must still have me under his spell. It cannot be! Carnage thought frantically about the horror in front of him. It looked like Jason, but it had black eyes and from them flowed black tears. Beads of obsidian against its white marble face. He had never seen a wraith with a solid face before either. Carnage knew it was Jason because of their sacred bond, but he refused to believe it. Jason drifted closer, and after a moment’s hesitation, Carnage limped toward him. Jason reached down to touch him and, confident that it was in fact Jason reaching down; nudged Jason’s scarred hand with his snout. BANG! A clap of thunder sounded in the tunnel that would make any eves-dropper lose his career. A surge of dark power flowed through Carnage, his fur turned black, his claws and fangs grew long. Carnage grew to thrice his size and all of his wounds had healed; leaving the same mark found on Jason’s hand, on the side of Carnages face, under his right eye. The only difference was that the skull under Carnages eye was white. Jason had pulled his hood over his head again, plunging the obscene sight of his face into shadow. One of his tears hit the ground and sizzled, leaving a small, deep hole.
“Carnage, kill me, I cannot live like this. I just killed two men and sent their very souls to the abyss.” Carnage thought about this, it explained a lot but unlike Jason, he remembered that if Jason died, so would he.
“I can’t do that and you know it. If you wish to take your own life and be defeated by Omenthroth then do so, I can’t stop you either.” Jason stood slowly. He walked down the tunnel and Carnage followed. After a few seconds they came to the resting place of Barry. Harrok was nowhere to be found. Jason knelt beside Barry, grabbed the dagger lodged in his jaw and pulled, blood squirting everywhere. Jason then reversed the dagger and plunged it into his own stomach. Carnage braced for the shared pain, but it never came. He sensed Jason’s frustration, watching him pull the dagger out and look at the black blood run down the blade, mixing with the red. Jason’s hand shook and constricted as he realized he would not be able to die, leaving the hilt of the dagger crumpled and rendering the weapon useless. He then screamed to the heavens:
“What do you want from me!?” Carnage was at his side, and he snarled as he saw the form of an elderly woman materialize in front of them. Jason slowly raised his head, recognizing Haag, the wood witch. She cackled and shook her head.
“I told you so.” She said and sat on the air behind her, crossing her ancient legs. “I will explain some things for you, and then you will choose your path for the first time in your life.” Jason wanted to die, nothing more, but he listened. “The wraith kings controls you Jason, and through you he controls Carnage. He is using you to kill Omenthroth because he wants to take control of this plane of existence. You can do so and relinquish command of Trieldum to the wraith king, sacrificing every living being left on the planet for your self. Or you can choose to betray the wraith king, destroying him and saving the world. This path will ultimately end in your destruction and endless torment until the end of time, for your physical form will be gone and you will be forced to roam the planet, not being able to do anything but watch as generations come and go, kingdoms rise and fall. This choice will be yours, when the time comes, you will know what to do.” Jason knew she was telling the truth, she had last time. He just didn’t like the truth she had given him. He already knew what choice he would make, just not how he was going to live with it.

Jason walked down the gravel road leading away from Trilian city. He had spent the night with Carnage lying awake under one of the huge trees that covered Waylithe forest. Jason had decided that going back to Trilian city would only cause him problems. Carnage had explained during their journey the wrongs of the mage and the priest, but it did little to settle Jason’s guilt at having sentenced them to an eternity of suffering in the abyss. They had plotted against the knighthood, planted the very book that brought about the death of Grievance in his study. Jason did not know or care what they would have gained with the falling of Trilian city. At first light, Carnage led the way to the edge of Waylithe forest and stopped. “What’s wrong?” Jason asked.
“It’s just… I’ve never left the sanctuary of Waylithe forest before.” Carnage admitted shamefully.
“Do not trouble yourself Carnage. We all start somewhere. Besides, now I get a chance to play hero and guide.” Carnage snorted and for the first time in his life, stepped out of Waylithe forest into the golden plains of Karamir. The sun beat down upon them and it irritated Jason, but he refused to let it slow them down. When Carnage started to protest, Jason cut him off. “Yes, I know theses plains stretch as far as the eye can see, but night is fast approaching and I will be fine. Just concentrate on keeping up.” Jason took a deep breath and broke into a run toward the horizon, gaining speed until he ran as fast as any stallion ever could. A few seconds later Carnage was at his side, matching his speed. They bolted through field after field of golden wheat, until they started a small competition. Jason pushed himself to run a bit faster, pulling ahead of Carnage, who in turn did the same. When Jason attempted to take the lead again Carnage bolted forward, doubling his speed again. Meanwhile a jackrabbit was blown away a few seconds after they flashed by, because of the huge gust of wind that followed them. Jason had nothing left, he had to slow down and he called to Carnage. “Okay, Okay you win. Come back now please.” A few seconds later Carnage was there. Jason could feel excitement and joyfulness flowing over the mental link from Carnage. Jason’s shoulders and neck were starting to really bother him, like he had hundreds of splinters. “It seems a heavy black cloak can’t keep all of the sun out.” Jason stated, and Carnage seemed to sober up with comprehension.
“You can ride then; we will reach the mountains of Grothgar twice as fast. I will make all haste.” Jason thought about this a moment, not understanding what he meant. Carnage approached and grabbed him in his powerful jaws, flinging Jason over his back. Then he understood.
“I have much experience on horseback, but I have never ridden a wolf before,” stated Jason
“Just leave it to me.” Jason grabbed some of the rough fur and Carnage launched into movement, picking up speed until Jason started to slip. He set that as the pace, thrice the speed of any leopard that ever lived. They bolted through the plains until dusk, when Carnage caught sight of a mountain peak in the distance. From time to time, Jason let a sample of his pain escape through their blocked mental link and Carnage began to worry. Jason was delirious and more than once loosened his grip, forcing Carnage to slow down. Jason loosed his grip again and came so close to hitting the ground that Carnage had to catch him with his jaws. Carnage carried Jason in his jaws the rest of the way, putting on an unbelievable amount of speed. He left a ditch in his wake where he wore down the earth. Within a minute they were at the base of the first mountain they would traverse in the lands of Grothgar. Carnage examined their surroundings and, spotting a small cave, decided he would leave Jason there and scout the area for potential enemies. Carnage walked to the cave, gingerly plopped Jason on the ground beside the entrance and began to search the immediate area for threats. He rounded a rocky corner and spotted movement in the shadows. In an instant he darted forward and found the thing lurking in the shadows to be but a rat. Carnage thought about the last time he had had something to eat and decided this dead rat would do nicely until he could catch himself a proper meal. Carnage gulped down the rat and started off to check on Jason. Suddenly, a lance of pain went through his stomach and Carnage stumbled, retching.