~Gole~

I am Gole of Everburning Rage, and I have made it my mission to banish Terror from my world. I am not the only creature who wants him gone, either. All the creatures of the Strange Lands and most of Nearth wants him gone. Those who don’t want him gone are evil creatures of his. I know Terror is too fiendish to stay away and mind his own business.

Luckily, I’m a master tracker alterna who has made a name for hunting down bad guys and for helping to save the entire world ten years ago.

My mission is to banish Terror from my world, and I’ve learned of a way to do it. Ancient legends speak of a “Walled Box” that only opens its “doorway” once every ten years. Those trapped inside supposedly can never escape back into the world from which they came. I need to trap Terror inside this Walled Box. However, I have several problems. First off, the doorway to the Walled Box opens near the glowing cats’ land in the Strange Lands, the Glowing Jungle.  The Glowing Jungle is several miles away from Terror’s fortress, and the doorway is only open for about two minutes. I will have to lead Terror on a chase after me before the doorway is even open.

Another problem is the scant information about what’s inside the Walled Box, since those that have entered have never returned. All that is known about the Walled Box I have stated already. Supposedly, the last time anyone went into the Walled Bow was sixty years ago, when the keepers of the Strange Lands, a dwarvish race called the manufa, went through the doorway.

None of them have been seen since. No one in our world knows what is inside of the Walled Box, but the verdues and uticales have been guarding a book that fell out of the doorway ten years ago. They call it the “Manufa Manuscript” because they believe that it was written by the manufa.

The manuscript is written in a language unfamiliar to Nearth or the Strange Lands. No one in our world knows what it says, but the verdues and uticales are faithfully guarding it, just like they’ve been guarding the Bronze Spire from Terror. I know what you’re probably thinking, “Wow, Gole finally did some research!”

Well, I’ve had to do my own research ever since the group split up after Trouse’s death. I’ve been alone since. Now, Trouse wasn’t the first to die by any means, but his death hit everyone hard. He was the glue that kept us all together, and once he was gone, everyone fell apart. Now, I’m tracking down the last surviving member of our group, Poole Pand, to go on one last adventure together. Hopefully this will be our last adventure out of necessity, but not the last out of choice.

I’ve heard Poole Pand lives in History as the resident hero, studying Nearth with his wizard friend, Tgeat. I myself am now twenty-four years old and six feet tall. I always carry around a bow with a quiver full of arrows on my back, and I sport a scar on my face to remind me of the hole in my memory thanks to Terror. I glance around at the bustling metropolis streets of History and then gaze up at the immense stone skyscrapers.

How on Nearth can Poole stand living here?

“Do you know where Poole Pand and Tgeat live?” I ask a scrawny rem girl with short curly hair and she gazes up at me in awe.

“Are you Gole of Everburning Rage?” She asks breathlessly and I mentally groan.

I hate being a celebrity. All the people fawn over you and want you to give them some memento.

“Yes, I am Gole of Everburning Rage. Now tell me where Poole Pand lives before I release my everburning rage on you!” I snap irritably and the girl’s hazel eyes widen.

“He lives in Poole’s Court. It’s in the Scholar’s District, with a giant statue of Tgeat in the front.” She quickly says and I growl slightly,

“Where’s the Scholar’s District?” I demand and the girl’s face brightens as if she’s suddenly hit with an idea.

“I can show you there.” She offers and I snort.

Right. She’s thinking of what a great chance this is to get “cool points” with the other rem children. She does seem to know how to find things in this metropolis cluster, which I don’t. I may be a tracker, but I’m a wilderness tracker, not a metropolis navigator.

“Fine.” I growl and the girl gestures for me to follow her.

“Come, come. It is far away.”