Chapter One: King Tombin

Here is the first thing I ever wrote for Kazaran! No joke.

King Tombin loomed over his war table, and could practically hear the screams of the dying. The metallic stench of blood even swam into the sweet fragrance of the wine he had left abandoned next to this throne. The war had gone on for nearly five generations now with no clear victor in sight. Each time he gained the upper hand against the Barron Bimax some cunning attack yanked the rug right under his feet. No victory seemed like victory but the hate between the two lands raged on. He had even given it a name, the Hateful Flame of the Fathers. He had been inspired by the memories he had of his late father in much the same position. Thinking the same thoughts, yearning for the same goal. It was maddening. Addicting. Lovely.

It was unknown to Tombin why the war had begun, or who had started the first battle and where. The only remaining piece of fact left was that the Castle Jengin was the strongpoint of the Fairfax Empire. Taking that would assure that the Baron Bimax’s hard fought kingdom would collapse into rubble. Yet there was a reason that Castle Jenjin had withstood over four generations of war. Creating a defensive wall on both sides was the Bordon Mountains which had but one pathway through them, a treacherous road that was surrounded by thick forests. On the other was open flats, which were easily bombarded with cannon fire, and finally, behind was the cliffs. Looming walls of rock which made the perfect natural cover defence. Should any of these obstacles be overtaken the raiding party would need to get through the first wall, which was four times as thick as a normal castle, it gave the base level of the city it’s fortitude. Two more massive wall rings circled the Castle Jengin, making it the most well fortified place in the entire land.

For a few moments Tombin wondered if it was all pointless. If all these thousands of deaths in each generation of people was really worth it. Perhaps it was. But then again, perhaps not. It was his duty as a king to ensure sniveling wretches be kept in check, and this mighty room was just the place to plot the demise of his enemies. Every stone was a pitch black color that cast little to no light, unless a torch was lit. Several adorned the walls now, and still the light was faint. Quite suddenly, someone laughed heartily outside. It occurred to Tombin for the first time that there must be some kind of party going on. Slowly, he got up to join them. His head still roared for military strategy, but there was more to that when it came to being king. He exited to stand among his subjects.

Light blinded him for a moment, and as his vision readjusted the view of the dining hall came it. There were thousands of people laughing, drinking, and feasting below him. Some were even on the seemingly infinite wooden feasting table. A smile formed in the corners of Tombin’s mouth. War or no a noble would always find a way to be a drunken fool. His smile faded at the sight of his brother, Adolis. He sat at the high table which was separated by one grand staircase, which had been adorned with golds and purples for the feast. Here the king and his family sat. It was a beautiful place, yet it never seemed to be very festive. Yet that sort of unreachable loneliness made it all the more appealing. Adin was much the same. His golden hair was always somewhat wavy, but he kept it short to not bother him while in armor.

Adin was a strong man who fought hard in what he believed in. Every battle he had been in his body count always broke three or more scores of men. Each weapon in the armory was held with ease in his hands, from greatsword to dagger, he could wield them all. No man had ever beaten in him combat, coupled with his noble lineage that assured him power, he had gained a glorious reputation among the armies. Eventually he was given command of his own private force, which he had dubbed the King’s Blade. With only six thousand men he had been able to do the impossible, facing hordes of foes that outnumbered him in the thousands. This sort of flawless air made Tombin very uneasy. Should his brother ever challenge him for the throne he was unsure what the outcome would be.

Slowly, he joined his family at the noble table. At the moment it seemed his daughter Casta was arguing with her twin, Mora.

“I’m telling you, listen to me!” She huffed, and Mora sat collected. Such was the demeanor of the Moon Flower.

“He did too slay a dragon! I was told by Prince Lordin--” Mora cut her off there with a wave of her hand.

“Lordin is a fool, but you are much more the fool for listening to him. I’m done arguing this with you.” At that, she stood up and made her way back to her chambers. One could practically feel Mora’s hateful glare on her sisters back. Tombin sat next to her, and she looked at him with fury.

“Why must she always be so...so...poised!” It was a phrase he had heard countless times since the two were little, and like always he assured her that Mora was just a different kind of person. Today, that seemed to be all Casta need, shortly after she drifted over to Adin. Methodically he picked at the food before him. It was quite the feast really. Large boar were roasted on spits, garnished with grilled vegetables, and drizzled in a hearty gravy. He took a generous portion of it and took the largest bite he possibly could. An explosion of flavors entered his mouth, it was as juicy and succulent as ever. A quick blow to the back of his head reminded him to wipe his mouth, but it was too late.

“I swear, you are a grand king yet you have the manners of the common drunkard.” His wife, Sarah,  sat next to him, and took a much more reasonable bite.

“See? Not so hard is it?” She smiled, and her loveliness was unmatched. Her features were angled, but not without purpose. It gave off the air of elegance, and importance. A quick glance at her body assured that her bust was grand yet not too grand, it only accented perfectly hourglass hips. In some respects, she seemed to be an impossibility, and he often wondered how in all creation such a woman existed. He playfully suggested that she didn’t mind his crass nature while in the bedroom and she laughed. It was warming to hear someone laugh like that again. The night wore on like for quite some time, and he exited around midnight. In his chambers the king made love to his wife, a pleasurable experience, yet it lacked the same passion of youth. Together they fell back into cool sheets, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Dawn’s light shone upon Tombin’s face. He awoke slowly, admiring his wife’s sleeping form for a moment, and eventually got dressed. Downstairs he could see Adin sitting alone, not eating anything. His hands were twirling a solid coin, a habit he had since the two of them were boys. Tombin spoke to him directly;

“Adin, you seem to up early this morning.” For a moment there was nothing, and Tombin was forced to walk all the way down to him.

“Adin,” he put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, which caught Adin’s attention immediately.

“Why are you up so early?” His brother looked at him with a solid gaze, one that went unbroken until the moment he finished talking.

“Order me to launch an assault on Castle Jengin.” So serious was the tone of his brother’s voice that Tombin stumbled backward.

“That’s madness! I won’t send my own brother to his death! Absolutely not.” Adin stood, and his slight height advantage became apparent.

“Give me four days, and you will have the Barron Bimax’s head decorating the wall outside.” At that, he excited the room, leaving his brother in a shocked silence.

Author's Note

Grammar and spelling. They must be fixed! Besides that focus on:
1) Characters, are they developed enough for you to know who is who?
2) Complexity, did it seem too simple of an action?
3) Believably, I know that fantasy can get away with a lot of stuff, but that's no excuse for something absolutely stupid to happen.
Thanks!

Ps. If you have questions about anything (mostly characters at this point I'm sure), feel free to ask. I'd be more than happy to answer.