The Magical Quest (Part 1)
Halas starred up into the sky as she lay on her back on the comfort of
the mosit grass. Everyday after chores, Halas slips away to this spot
out in the heart of the Western Woods. The spot seemed to console her,
as if the trees closed in and shut out the rest of the world. She
dreamed of so much more than what her family had to offer. Her future
hardly even promised a simple life of a comon sheep farmer, probably,
no doubt, in a very small hut, like the one she lived in now. And she
wondered if the fall of Tunaria had anything to do with it. See, Halas
lived in Tunaria, or what was left of it. Tunaria was once a beautiful
country with plenty of good, magical creatures, but then The Dark Ages
came and Tunaria's beauty and goodness turned into destruction and
crime. Now, Tunaria was full with crimanls, anywhere you went and
if any magical creatures, or people for that matter, were seen you
were considered lucky. Halas hated Tunaria now, but her father told
her over and over again that things could be worse. Take for example,
there was no ruler. Unluckily, the country was not run properly, but
luckily there wasn't a Dark Ruler ruling over the land. So, Halas did
see some of Tunaria's good points, what good ones they had. So, anyone
could see why being a hero meant a lot to Halas, and often she talked
about how someday the land would be restored. Mostly it was all dreams,
but Halas still had much hope that one day her dream would be
fulfilled and that one day she would become more than just a peasant,
perhaps even a leader...
"Halas!" the high-pitched scream interupted Halas's thought, and she
quickly picked herself up and ran through the glen, towards the two-
room hut her family owned. Dodging trees and their branches, Halas's
feet touched the ground only for a second, due to how fast she was
running. Thoughts raced through her head, like what the scream was
about and why. She began to pant quickly as she trudged through the
thicket that laid just behind her house. Finally, she reached the
small cabin and threw open the small wooden door.
"Halas, Halas," said a meak voice, that Halas quickly relized was her
mother, who lay on the damp, hard floor, unmistakably close to death.
Halas rushed to her side and took she mother's cold, shivering hand.
"Who did this?" shrieked Halas, looking around the room.
"Rallos," Halas's mother strugged out. Giving herself only moments to
think, Halas tried to remember who Rallos was, and suddenly remembered
one of the old Tunaria tales her father had told, and remembered that
Rallos was the most evil villian of them all, half man, half monster.
Halas never dreamed Rallos would walk Tunaria again, thinking he had
died with all it's wonders.
"But how..." said Halas, full with rage as she saw her father laying
in the corner of the hut, dead. She rushed over to him, as tears
streamed down her face.
"Halas..." whispered Halas's mother, as Halas returned to her side.
"You must stop him, he is planning to take over Tunaria. Please go..."
Halas watched as, slowly, the sparkle of her mother's eyes seemed to
die along with her. She continued to hold her mother's hand,through
the fist ten minutes of her death. When Halas got the courage to let
go, she stood up and whiped away her tears. Quickly, her sadness
turned to rage and she went back to the room where she usually slept
and gathered a few things. "If nothing else," she said to herself, "I
will get revenge upon Rallos, and he will be sorry he ever returned to
Tunaria."
As Halas trudged through the forrest, occasionly wiping away stray
tears, she thought of only one person that could help: Neriak. He was
the only magical elf, that Halas knew of, that was still around. She
knew he lived in a house south of the Swamp, where she was headed. She
just knew Neriak could help, and if not he could surely give her some
tips for the journey. As she neared the southern part of the swamp,
she spotted Rallos! She ducked behind a nearby rock, in listening
range of Rallos and his crew of starnge creatures. 'There must be
fifty right there,' thought Halas. She balanced her hands on the side
of the rock, it's cold, slimy feeling crawling under her fingertips.
"These woods have been covered," said one of the strange creatures to
Rallos.
"Good," creaked Rallos's dark, shrill voice. "You shall go to Felwithe
then Rivervale, killing every moral living thing in sight. If you
see some reason to spare the live of any creature, capture them and
bring them to me. Now go!" Rallos ordered and booming sounds of heavy
feet hitting the swamps could be heard. 'Felwithe and Rivervale,'
thought Halas, skectching the names of the nearby towns into her mind.
After she was sure they were all gone, Halas crept form her spot and
continued towards Neriak's house.
When she got to the small house, Halas got the slitest bit nervous.
Toads seemed to crawl all over this place, but since Neriak was an
old, hermit elf he probably didn't pay them the least bit of attention.
She climbed up two, wobbly steps and knocked on the door three times.
"Who is it?" said an old crackling voice.
"I'm Halas, and I'm hear with import news and seeking wisdom." said
Halas, in the bravest voice she could muster. There was a long pause,
and then she could hear tiny shoes hitting the floor as they came
over to open the massive door. Neriak was unsuprisingly short, with
long gray hair and dressed in a priest-like robe.
"Eh? What's your news?" he asked. Offened by Neriak's rudeness of not
asking her in, Halas hesitated for a moment then said, "Rallos has
come back to Tunaria, sir, and I must stop him." She felt only the
least bit proud of her speech.
"You?" he asked, eyeing her. "You wouldn't last," he said, about to
close the door. But Halas stopped him and pleaded. "Please, Neriak!
I'm Tunaria's only hope. I need help! I don't know where to start!"
and with that Halas let herself inside and sat down in a large arm
chair near the fire. For a moment Neriak looked outraged, but he
soon put on a smile and joined Halas near the fire.
"Now," said Neriak calmly, "Do you have any information about Rallos?"
"No...Well yes," replied Halas, "They are on their way to Felwithe and
Rivervale. There they will kill any good thing in sight."
"Oh? Well we do have a problem then. Have you been to see Imoen?"
"Imoen?"
"Why, Ms. Imoen of course! The magical centaur. She'll surely help."
"But, I thought that..."
"That all magical creatures were gone? No, we've just been hibernating,
not exactly knowing what to make of you humans."
"All right, I'll go at once to see her. Where might she be?"
"Oh, dear, let me think. If I'm not mistaken she lives here, in the
Western Woods. Try east of here, I know she lives in a small clearing,
but you'll never see her."
"And why not?"
"She's a centaur, quite scared of humans. Getting near to her would
be like near to the stars."
"Well, how will I get to her? I must talk with her."
"Try this," Neriak said helpfully as he went to get something from
another room. "This here is Hoshgejig, and centaurs love it. Say ole'
Neriak sent you and hand her this Hoshgejig and she'll tell you all
you wish to know."
"Thank you very much!"
"Ahh, and yes. Take this." Neriak said as he handed her a map and a
weird looking stone. "This is a baubble. It will help you when your
in trouble."
Halas got up and gave Neriak a big hug and put his gifts into her bag.
"Thanks again," said Halas and she was on her way.
