Mass

It was a cold dark night in the forest of Isthel. A single shadowy figure moved quickly and quietly thought the shrubbery with out so much as rustling a single leaf or snapping a single fallen twig. The figure advanced upon a strange many horned animal in a clearing, eating a small berry. With one fluid motion the figure moved behind the horn animal and broke its neck. The figure then dragged the horned animal off into the brush, to never be seen again.

“That's the stupidest story I have ever heard.” The young boy shouted at his rotund father. “Well it certainly used to amuse you.” the father retorted. “Now wash up and head of to bed little one.” the father finish and the son headed off to do as instructed. “Proud of that one. Headstrong and he speaks his mind.” the father said thinking out loud. “He certainly takes after his father.” said the boys mother, breaking the silence. The father just nodded as they quietly got ready for their own slumber.

The next morning as the sun broke over the tree line of the forest Isthel the young boy was awoke by his father. “Arise my sleepy son, the sun is out and today is your day/” the father said almost musically. The young boy sprang from him bead. It was his day he remembered, today was the day he officially became a man. He was just a boy of eight but as was the tradition in the kingdom of Mass-vile, this was the age where a boy became a man and started attending school or went to work. He began to review everything he was taught by his father about the rites of passage as he dressed for the event. The young lad flew down the stairs and arrived in the kitchen where his mother was preparing a feast. “Our beloved son. When you return tonight from the rites we will feast and be merry.” his mother sang to him. The boy was very hungry, he had been fasting for three days as part of the tradition. His mother had the sweet melodic voice, like a choir of angels. The young boy just nodded. He was swooped under his fathers arm as they headed out of the estate and out into the town. He boy was greeted by a garrison on the troops from the small kingdom his father ran. As was the custom the boy was led into the town by the troops as his father stayed behind at his home. The boy and his escort arrived at the center of town where all the men of the kingdom, minus his own father, had gathered.

The troops presented the lad to the men of the kingdom. “Here stands Mass, the younger. Son of his honor the mayor.” shouted the town crier. The crowd erupted in a thunderous applause. The boy was awe struck by everything. Then the men turned and face a large enclosed area where a full grown great bear was caged. The boy remembered that first was the test of strength. “Boys who pass the first test and fail the others become solders” his fathers voice echoed in his memory. The general of the army produced a ceremonial broad sword and a small bauble on the end of a plain rope necklace. “Now lad” the general began “put the necklace on so if the bear wins you can be revived. And when your ready enter the cage.” The boy swallowed his fear as put put the necklace on over his head. He then took the broad sword firmly in both hands and entered the cage. The great bear reared on its hind legs revealing its full eight feet height. Yet for some reason the boy was no longer afraid. He swung the sword with all his might at the bears head. And at the last possible second he turned the blade sideways and smacked the bear unconscionable but not killing it. The boy turned to the crowd and spoke “I would prefer not to kill this beast. “ even as he spoke these words the lad knew he didn't have a choice. The crowd roared and it was clear the bear died or he did. The boy flinched as he drove the sword into the bears heart.

The young boy then exited the cage and was met with much fanfare ans the men chanted strength test passed and carried the young man to the next test. The motley crew arrived in a few moments at the home of the most kingdoms respected elder. The elder took a good look at the lad and after a long while of silence proclaimed “Why is the sky blue?” The boy remembered his father explaining this was the test of wisdom. Those who passed only the wisdom test became elders. The crowd murmured among itself as the boy had a seat on the ground and thought about this difficult question. After the sun had passed its peak and began to set the boy realized the answer. “The Gods.” is all the young boy said. The elder sat and twisted his flowing snow white beard. Then he nodded “that answer shows a great deal of wisdom.” the aging man said. The crowd once again erupted in fanfare and they carried the boy off yet again. This time to the most difficult test, they were off to the temple.

The men arrived at the temple and set the boy on the great golden steps, yet not villager stepped forward with the boy. “This test you go alone and quietly. We await you out here.” said the general. The boy nodded, his father had left that part out of his preparations. The boy shrugged it off and entered the monolithic cathedral. Once inside the boy thought back to his father once again, all his father had told his about the final test was that it was a test of faith. Men who passed the test of faith and no other test were destined for the priest hood. As the boy advanced further into the temple he noticed a priest who motioned for him. The boy saw the priest was indicating that he should stand on a small mat in the middle of the room. No sooner did the boy reach the square, it fell through and dumped him into a small dungeon. The boy frantically pounded on the walls but gave up when he realized that his prison was carved into solid rock on all sides. From above the priest yelled “You haven't eaten in days you will surly starve by the end of the day.” The boy sat down and began to think about all the thing he would miss in his life. “All you have to do is renounce our gods and you will be released.” yelled the priest again. The boy knew that he would rather die then ever renounce his beliefs. So he sat in silence as what sounded like a hurricane was going on above him, he couldn't see anything but he imagined that the priest was preparing some sort of sacrifice with his body. And then suddenly a rope appeared next to the lad. He grabbed it and after testing if it would hold his weight began to climb up.

          

Upon reaching the top the boy was greeted by a full temple, there were as many people in the temple as it would hold and they were cheering him on. The priest patted him on the back and smiled “You passed the final test. By showing you would rather die then give up our deities.” The boy smiled, he had passed all his test just like his father before him. This meant that many doors where open to him and he could take any job he desired. It was the priest who brought the young man back to reality. “Now son the gods wish to grant you a gift.” the priest said. The boy wasn't sure what to think of this twist either. It was something else his father had not mentioned. The young man was led to the alter where a small white whirl of smoke was gathering in mid air. The priest stepped up on to the alter and soon light exploded from his eyes and mouth ad he began glowing white. Mass arose as the villagers all looked away. “I grant you young Mass with out most sacred gift of all” the possessed priest bellowed so loud it shook the temple to its core. The priest reached out and touched the young mans eyes. “For as long as you walk our lands you will be endowed with vision in any condition even darkness.” the spirit boomed again. The young man stepped back and dropped to his knee as his eyes began to burn...

The elf god Reali waved his hand. “enough of your camp fire fairy tales Oman. I am seeking the one true warrior not some child with magic eyes.” He got up and stormed out the great circle. Reali stopped and turned toward me and glared “You know, I would have expected you of all gods to understand my quest. After all finding this warrior means as much to you as anyone else.” he yelled, before continuing to storm off. I chuckled to myself as Reali walked away. I said “We will see...”

The young mans name was Mass, he was named for his father. Who was named for his great girth. When he was born he was only average in size. He was born to wealthy farm owning and politically active peoples. He grew up and early on became strong like an oxen and quick like the large strange birds that flew over head. When he was young he believed the stories his father told, but as he grew into adolescence he began to disdain his father. His father was a small time local mayor. Basically the ruler of the entire kingdom of Massville. Which his father had named after himself. His fathers father was a farm owner and made himself wealthy on the blood and sweat of laborers. Mass the older was an extremely lazy man, his political career was marred by accusations of corruption and bribery. Mass the younger took a job in the fields doing manual labor when he was old enough, at the age of eight. This enraged his father who had hoped to send his son off to school, in the mecca that is the Northern Kingdom. Mass the older had hoped to pass on his mayoral duties to the younger one day. But fate conspires to destroy the plans of man and beast alike. The younger would grow to become a local legend and would soon turn his eyes to the Northern Kingdom and the calling of the life of a fierce warrior. As teenagers often do the younger would dream of the glamour that was elsewhere. As the younger began his teen aged years he grew in strength and mind.

Often as he stood in the fields and wiped the sweat from his large strong brow, he would think that he was destined for something more then this. Many times his father would yell at him for slacking off and send Mass back to work. Even though the younger worked twice as hard as the other workers and arrived earlier and stayed later then the others. This was his fathers only means of punishing his maturing son. All of the physical labor caused the muscles to explode from his arms and chest. As he became a teenager it became clear that this Mass would not be anything like his lazy father, who would sent others to work for him while the sat in office and counted gold coins, and then yelled at the laborers who weren't cutting it, and often some who were. The younger Mass was hard working and determined. He gained great speed from chasing rabbits around in the forest. Often running down the rabbits and grabbing them, with his bare hands. The rabbits were then sold my his father for profit. And still the younger yearned for something more. When the young man was not working he would often explore the woods of Isthel that flanked his small hamlet all around. Mass the younger had quite the reputation for his adventures. The legend grew to mythic proportions one summer evening when Mass was around seventeen or so.

           

It was an extremely hot summer morning, the kind of day that drives men insane, the younger had awoken at dawn like he always did and had headed off to work as soon as the sun peaked over the horizon, while his father slumbered off his drinking from the night before. When he arrived at the fields he discovered that the fields has been robbed the night before, picked clean and upon further inspection he discovered that no beast had made the damage. The vegetables had been pulled from the ground and their roots had been cut off. Mass met the other workers as the arrived “This theft was executed by a man” he said. The crew suddenly looked ill, as if they had all suddenly taken sick at the same time. “No man, sir.” one squeaked out. Mass shook his head “Not this silly legend of the shadowy figure again. Killing horned rabbits and children who stray to far into the woods” he proclaimed. “It is an old wives tale, meant to scare children who wander into the forest.” he finished. The crew did not believe him as they continued to have the deathly pale look on their faces. Mass knew there was no point in arguing with the men, these silly small minded villagers had no concept of reality outside the cozy town, and because of such the townsfolk liked to tell tall tales of mythic demons. “To disprove this shadowy figure nonsense, I will take to the woods to capture our thief.” he proclaimed. The workers attempted to protest but Mass was by far the fastest runner and was halfway to the woods when the first sound of protest emerged from the workers.

Mass entered the woods armed only with his beloved hoe. The gardening equipment was the only thing he owned. He had toiled all last summer to earn enough gold for it. He had bought it himself. His fathers wealth was of no consequence to Mass. He soon found himself past the furthest mark he had ever made into the forest. A large oak tree on which he had ripped the word MASS into with his bare hands. He swallowed his fear as he advanced past the marker. The forest was so dense past the great oak tree that almost no light shined inside. Mass has been gifted with the ability to see in any condition when he visited the priest upon his ascension into manhood. His eyes instantly adapted to the light and soon he could see as well n the dark as any other being could in the light. He proceeded his his grip tight around the hoe and tracked forward into the great unknown.

His sense of direction was nonresistant in these trees because like many others he relied heavily on the sun for bearings. But Mass was sure he had passed the same forked tree more then one time, but then again all of the trees blended in with each other. He stopped to kneel and wipe the sweat from his massive brow. A sharp sound exploded in front on him, twenty paces ahead. Mass dove left for cover, only just manging to grab his hoe before he began to roll. He had not looked closely in his haste to move out of the missiles way that he dove off a steep hill. He rolled down until he stopped with a hard thud, he exploded up from the ground and assumed a defensive position. Clap, clap, clap, in the dense brush the sound echoed. Mass wheeled around to face the sound. There on a wooden chair in the middle of a camp sight sat a minotaur. “Impressive, human child. You 'tracking' skills are far superior then many of your race.” the monster bellowed at Mass. “I don't appreciate the mocking tone beast.” Mass screamed at the minotaur. The creature stood up and took hold of a lantern and chuckled. “I am surprised that you avoid the arrow trap I set up the hill. But I assume you are here about the food I stole form your pathetic village.” said the minotaur. Mass nodded, as he fronted his weapon and move into a fighting stance. The creature just laughed again “do you really think you stand a chance? All over some worthless vegetables?” the creature boomed. Mass did not move and he did no speak, his mind was melded into battle mode and would not be stirred. Upon seeing the human was serious the minotaur said “okay” then without warning hi flipped on the lantern that he has been clutching and lunged ant Mass. Since his eyes adjusted immediately Mass stepped to the side as the minotaur rushed past him, he then struck the minotaur squarely on the back of it's massive head. The creature was stunned but not hurt, it simply shook it off and wheeled around again to rush. This time Mass sprung into the air and the minotaur came rushing right under him. The creature arrived back at its tent and shook its massive head again.

          “I have never been bested in a fight and it has been quite some time since I have been challenged in a fight.” the minotaur bellowed out. The with out warning the creature lunged at Mass, the large beast was moving ten time as fast as his previous attempts and caught Mass before he could react. The minotaur took hold of the hoe and cracked in fourths with his bare hands and cast the pieces aside. Mass was stunned but he forced himself to refocus and put his fist into position. The beast looked amused and swung his enormous fist at Mass, the blow connected with the side of Mass' head but the thick skull of the young man did not give and inch and a convincing crack echoed through the forest as the minotaurs fingers broke against Mass' head. The creature dropped and examined his hand. The large creature shook its horned head “how?” it stammered. Mass was unsure of what had just happened, the best he knew the creature had made contact his the side of his head but he felt nothing.

          The minotaur returned to its camp sight while Mass was still befuddled by the events that had just occurred. The creature picked up and enormous bolder with its good hand and tossed it in the air. The beast moved under the falling rack and put his good hand up in the air. The bolder crushed into pieces as small as pebbles after contact with the minotaurs fist. The creatures lowered it's hand. “Rocks, bricks, and the skulls of many humans during the Great Duna War.” the creature paused “and yet your skull breaks all my fingers...” the creature trailed off. Mass stayed ready in case the creature made a move at him, but admitted to himself that he was just as confused. He did something no warrior would ever do, Mass dropped his fist and walked toward the minotaur. “Let me wrap your hand.” Mass said. The minotaur waved him off but gestured for Mass to sit in a second chair at the camp site. Mass had a seat as the minotaur sat in his original seat and lit a camp fire. “Let me tell you about the world outside your tiny hamlet. As I am sure it is your destiny to leave this place. I will impart on you the wisdom of the world.” the creature began.

           

          It was nearly a century ago when the Great Duna War erupted but the ground work was laid even before that. In the days before Duna there two major powers in this world. The Northern Kingdom which was still in its youth and the great Southern Kingdom, which had been the dominate force for as long has history was recorded. The kingdoms where separated by not only geographic location but the ideals they embodied. The Northern Kingdom was open to all beings who wanted to become citizens. The Southern Kingdom was shut off from all non humans. About five years before the Great Duna War, (or BGDW) when an imperious young politician seized power in the Southern Kingdom a man named Oba. Oba was young and beloved by the people of the Southern Kingdom, but he was inexperienced in the realm of leadership. Oba very quickly after his rise began to consolidate the outlying territories around his new kingdom, to grow it's size. The new leader also passed laws that forced all young men into military service. Oba worked quickly and in just three years he had amassed a billion man army and had expanded the reach of the Southern Kingdom through the Great Wide Plains and right up to the gates of the Northern Kingdom. No other Kingdom made any move to stop the south. So about two years BGDW the Southern Kingdom begins to round up all the minotaurs that they could get their hands on, even going as far as taking minos from their homes as they slept, and demanding the other Kingdoms of the world turn over all minos to them. The Northern and Western Kingdoms did what was requested of them, not knowing what was going to happen to the minotaurs. Once they had rounded up all the minos in the world they walled us in in what the called a 'reserve' in the north west corner of the world. Now this reservation was nothing more then a work camp.

          

A small group of minos, including myself escaped and headed through the treacherous Majectic Mountains to seek the help of the Western Kingdom. After hearing of the atrocities that were transpiring they king of the west Rwela promised his entire army to the minos. However, the west was a small nation and their entire army was less then a thousand. King Rwela sent our small party of minos to the Northern Kingdom to see if we could recruit the Northern Army which was a million strong. So off we go to recruit more help which of course we got. A few day later an army of men, dwarves, and minotaurs numbering around two million formed ranks on the Great Wide Plains and advanced toward the Southern Kingdom, where we met Oba's billion man army. The resulting battle which kicked of the Great Duna War, started right there on the plains. We were massively out numbered but we had our advantages, the armies of the North and West are highly trained as are the dwarves and minotaurs. The Souths strength was numbers but most of their forces were just kids. The battles were long and hard and after clashes all over the world it all came down to one final battle. Our side, the newly named Alliance of Free Peoples had advanced on the Southern Capital.

Oba was entrenched with an army of around ten million including his cavalry and elite troops. Our numbers were waining from lack of reinforcements. But we knew the time was now so the Alliance sent all the troops is could muster, some five hundred thousand or so to the capital. The fighting was intense and at one point the minotaurs were pinned down by the southern elite, and we were saved by a dwarf. That, however, is a another story. But we fought on and ultimately took the capital and Oba was captured and forced to stand trial for his actions. Sadly, I never found out what happened to Oba because I left the Alliance to return to the minotaur reserve, which had become the minotaurs home. The Southern Kingdom was disband and its people were force to leave the kingdom so it could be razed to the ground. Most of the residents of the kingdom claim to this day that they didn't know what Oba was doing and just went along with it so they would not be killed. The displaced southern peoples went on to form the new Eastern Kingdom, or the Eastern Alliance of Free Peoples as they call it now. Taking the name from our army to show that all were welcome in their new kingdom. Also as not to be confused with the original Eastern Kingdom which fell a thousand years before the Great Duna War even began. That's about as much history as I know young man.

The minotaur put down his pipe and finished his story. “That's all the history that I know of.” he rested for a moment. Mass noticed that the minotaurs hand was bothering him. “Wow” Mass started “that story should be told to everyone the keep it from happening again.” he finished. The minotaur just sat there, the silence was deafening. “I apologize for the brief and sporadic history but as you may or may not know facts are not minos specialty. We are warriors.” the beast broke the silence, Mass could only nod. The minotaur arose very suddenly and took a step toward Mass, who shot straight up and prepared to defend himself. The minotaur shook its massive head an disappeared into its tent, submerging a few moments later with a small aged leather bag, a sword in a scabbard, and a scroll. The minotaur thrust all three items into Mass' hands. “Take these” bellowed the beast “perhaps you can make much better use of them then I” he paused.”What is all of this?” Mass interrupted. “Well” began the beast “the pack is my travel supplies, the sword is an indestructible broad sword forged at Matock, and the scroll is a recommendation to admit you to the Warrior fights in the Northern Kingdom.” the minotaur stop to catch its breath, which appeared to be causing his some amount of pain. “You studied at Matock?” exclaimed Mass. The beast just nodded, “what is wrong?” Mass inquired. The beast struggled to sit down in his chair. “I am afraid boy, that you have ended my life.” the minotaur stated clutching at his chest. “From a broken hand?” Mass blurted out the only thing that came into his mind. The minotaur cracked a smile, Mass believed that the beast had not smiled in quiet sometime. “You really must not realize.” the minotaur began “when I clutched my broken hand, you reached in and used a technique called the exploding heart punch...” the minotaur trailed off as even breathing was becoming laborer. Mass was dumbfounded, he was aware that in the blur of the battle he was relying on instinct and nothing else. But he was unsure where his sub conscience would have learned this maneuver. “Answer one more question before you die” Mass began, the beast looked him in the eye. “The warriors who train at Matock are the greatest warriors in the whole world, even a small kingdom farmer knows that. So I guess my question is this: where you using your full strength and speed when we battled? I ask because it seems that I defeated you quickly.” Mass finished. The minotaurs smile got wider. “Full strength and speed...” the minotaur trailed off as he fell to the ground still clutching his heart and still smiling. Mass rushed to the minotaur and placed the creatures large head in his lap. Mass began to weep very silently. The creatures eyes shot open and he spoke “ONE TRUE WARRIOR.” then then minotaur again fell silent. Mass close his friends eyes as the beast was no long apart of this world. Mass arose and began to search the brush frantically until he found what he was looking for, some halper leaves. Mass then wrapped his minotaurs body in the leaves. The halper leaves would prevent the body from decaying long enough for Mass to take the minotaur from this terrible and bury him in a warriors grave. The using the supports from the minotaurs tent and some other branched Mass fashioned a sled to lay the Minotaur on, so that he could pull his friend instead of carrying him. Mass gathered up all of his new possessions and his broken hoe and pulling the beast behind him began to make his way back toward Massville.

          

It has just before dusk when Mass arrived back in the town he called home. He was meet by this father and a garrison on troops from the militia. “Son! Gods be praised, we were about to come in after you.” his father began. “Yeah.” Mass dismissed his father flippantly. The younger pulled his make shift transport around to the back of his family and buried the minotaur in a quiet ceremony that only he attended. Mass used a large stone as the head stone, into the large rock he carved 'Here lies a friend. A veteran of the Great Duna War. A student trained at Matock. But most importantly a Minotaur and proud of it.' Then Mass headed inside to wash up for dinner as his family was most likely waiting on him. Unbeknown st to the teen aged Mass, his legend was growing. Many villager were already telling the story of how Mass returned from Isthel with a dead minotaur. A minotaur that he killed. And as gossip usually does the story would only grow from there...

           

         

 “What?” Byll the minotaur bellowed out, “is it true Oman?” A tall slender deity named Noq asked. The elder god Oman still just stared into the great fire. “I don't know Noq” Oman began “as I am sure you are aware the legend states that not even I know who the one true warrior is.” Noq stared at Oman and weighted whether or not he believed Oman or not. Deciding he did he re took his seat and motioned for Oman to continue.

          

Something greater then what he was doing here in the small industrious kingdom of Massville, just east of the great metropolis of the great Northern Kingdom. In these days the rock stars of the time were the men who fought in the great gladiatorial wars. Not so much wars as they were one on one matches. Two men were locked in a cage and forced to fight until one of them was dead. The child dreamed of being famous and fighting in those battles. As soon as he was the age of consent, you see even with Byll the minotaurs letter of recommendation a human warrior had to be eighteen years age before he could set off on a journey and that my friends is where we pick up, as a young man sets off.

          

Mass checked his pack. This small leather sack contained everything he owned, or inherited from the great warrior Byll, which was scant. Mass had dreamed the night before of being the greatest warrior of all time. He recalled the images from his dream as he rechecked his pack for the fourth time. He looked to the house and it became clear that no one was coming to see him off to the big city. He was also worried about what he would do for food. He had some twenty rabbits that he had caught the night before. Mass and grown into a handsome young man with a chiseled jaw and bulging muscles. He ran his hand across his bald head as he fondly remembered his hair. But people in the big city were wearing no hair this season. A movement in the corner of his eye brought his glance around. There in the doorway that had been closed was his portly father. “Son, I must beseech you to stay one more time.” he bellowed. Mass lowered his glance as if to think about this proposal. “I am afraid father that I cannot do such a thing. I yearn for more then just the farm. Or your political corruption” Mass said casting his glance toward his father. His father moved from one side to the other as if to shift his weight. “I think I know where you are coming from. I think the time as come for you to become the Mayor, you don;t have to be corrupt, that was a decision I made. You can choose to be decent.” Mass laughed a little, then realizing his father did not share his amusement, he stopped. “This father, has nothing to do with position. I simply believe I am destined for more then you.”

          

And with that his father slammed the door and Mass was once again alone. He shrugged it off and set off down the path to the big city. It was a long and arduous journey...