TRA: Brothers Of The Scar

Chapter 1: Tyril

Grodak

Grodak approached the gates of Whitewater just as the sun started to set behind him. This will be interesting, Grodak thought as he eyed the guards stationed at the gate.

"Halt." A guard shouted. "State your business."

"I am here to speak to your king-"

"Another for the quest." The guard shouted to the others, interrupting Grodak. "Alright," he said turning back to Grodak, "come with me."

Grodak hesitated for just a brief second before following the guard. "So," Grodak said as they walked, mostly to fill the silence that seemed to stick to him like sweat on a hot summer day, "what are we supposed to be doing for this quest?"

"You will find out from Tyril, our king." The guard spoke with pride as he mentioned the king, he held a hint of what almost sounded like a son praising his father. Grodak looked the soldier over, he appeared to be no younger than his mid to late thirty's, Grodak could only imagine what the king must look like then.

Grodak didn't have to wonder long as they came upon a white spiraling castle that touched the sky. Grodak gasped at the beauty of it, he had always seen it from afar, but it looked so different up closely. The doors, big enough to welcome dragons into its great halls, where wide open, allowing the citizens to come and go as they please.

"Wait here," the guard said, suddenly snapping Grodak out of his trance like state, "I'll inform the king that you have arrived."

Grodak stood at the doors admiring the craftsmanship that was put into the building. A few minutes go by then the guard returned. "Alright," he said with a wry smile, "you may enter to see the king."

Grodak entered the great halls and followed the guards as they guided him to the throne room. Grodak stepped into the large ornate room and looked around at the trinkets, he didn't have much taste for valuables but even he knew that these were all worth twice his weight in gold.

As Grodak looked around he spotted two other figures standing in front of him. One was a human with blonde hair and whistling a strange tune, the other was a Dasari who, strangely enough, didn't have his dragon by his side. As Grodak took these two in a shift of movement caught his eye.

Grodaks eyes jerked to the source of the movement, cursing himself under his breath for not realizing sooner that there was a third man in the room with them, and caught his breath. Sitting upon a golden throne, looking bored, was a young man with white hair and red eyes. Grodak felt a chill come over him, this man struck Grodak as unnatural.

"Is this everyone, Isaac?" The young man asked, his gaze never leaving the group.

The guard gave a sharp nod and replied, "Yes, my lord."

"I guess this outcome is better than I had hoped." The young lord spoke in a soft tone that carried years of sorrow and wisdom upon it. "I am Tyril, king of Whitewater, and I welcome you to my humble city."

Grodak watched as the two in front of him bowed their heads to this man and started to follow their lead but stopped as Tyril raised a hand. "There is no need to bow before me. You have accepted the request I sent out so you may consider me an equal."

Grodak straightened up and watched the king, he did not dare to look him in the eye for fear of what he may see. "If you have the courage to do so," Tyril continued, "then you must take the challenge."

There was a loud click from behind the throne as three hounds with white fur and red eyes appeared. "Defeat these hounds," Tyril said with a hint of amusement, "and we will discuss the details of the request after."