Acacia

Acacia is the granddaughter of Queen Akasha and King Enkil, once rulers of the Nile and later on the queen and king of all vampires. She learned of how they became vampires from her mother, Ankhmutes (meaning image of her mother). They had enraged the spirit Amel and as punishment, Queen Akasha was possessed by Amel, transforming her into a creature with a lust for blood. The queen then gave her blood to King Enkel, transforming him as well.

Ankhmutes feared her parents transformation and for their lives as well, so she stole away with her younger brother, Tepemkau (meaning best of souls) with the help of the servant, Khayman (before he became a vampire). Khayman put the children in the hands of a band of gypsies, knowing they would be safe with them. There they stayed safe and hidden from Akasha and Enkil for some years. Ankhmutes feared, yet still loved, her parents, and named her baby girl after her mother.

Many more years went by without incident, and Acacia grew up to be a beautiful and intelligent young woman. She had a striking resemblance to her grandmother but fortunately had none of her prideful and "bitchy" qualities. She loved to venture out into the unknown by herself especially at night, due to her curiosity and love of adventure. Her mother however, disapproved because of Queen Akasha and her vampire brood; Ankhmutes had learned that her mother had been searching all those years for her and her brother, intent of giving them the "divine gift". Acacia went out anyway and did not take her mother's fears seriously.

One night when she was seventeen years old, a vampire saw her and was surprised by her resemblance to his queen. He decided to let her be and secretly followed her back to her home. He then reported to Queen Akasha of what he saw. The next night, as Acacia was coming home she heard screaming and smoke coming from the direction of the camp. The queen and a few others vampires had come to the gypsy camp and were killing everyone. Acacia started towards the camp but saw her uncle Tepemkau running towards her. He grabbed her and pulled her away from the chaos. Acacia struggled and asked him what was happening. He said nothing and kept pulling at her. Then the queen herself came out from the shadows and grabbed Tepemkau and sank her teeth into his neck. Acacia screamed and could only stare as her beloved uncle's life was being taken away. He managed to tell her "Run..." before he lost consciousness. The queen stared at Acacia, smiled and said "Yes, run!" and then reached out for her. Acacia screamed and ran blindly into the night. The queen smiled again and cried out after Acacia "You cannot run from me. I will find you!".

Acacia ran without knowing where she was going, what she was going to do. After a while, she stopped, exhausted and hurting all over. She saw a lake and stumbled towards it. Before taking a drink she saw Queen Akasha staring back at her from the water. She gasped and then realized it was only her reflection. With hatred she cried out and clawed at her face. She felt her nails dig into her skin and her warm blood sliding down her cheeks and neck. Then the world suddenly started to spin and she fell forward into the lake. As she fell into darkness an image of her family flashed in her mind, and then nothing. (time-trap into the future: 22nd century)

When Acacia awoke, she found herself in the arms of a strange woman. She looked up and saw another woman with crusted blood where her eyes should be. She trembled in fear but in her mind came the voice of the woman, "Do not be afraid. I will not harm you. I am Mekare and this one by me is Maharet. We know who you are. I must be quick however for my time is coming to an end. I have waited all these centuries for you. I carry the spirit of Amel. When Akasha, your grandmother, met her end, the spirit of Amel had to pass onto someone else to preserve all the vampires - she was the lifeforce of all vampires for she created them. And so the spirit was passed onto me but I was too weak to keep the spirit and it has drained my strength. The spirit of Amel desired for you to be the new lifeforce for he has sensed the power of your soul."

Makare stood up, walked towards Maharet. They nodded to each other and with that, Maharet plunged a dagger into Makare. Acacia stared dumbfounded as Maharet carved out Makare's heart and cut her skull to take out the brain. "Eat" she whispered hoarsely and shoved the still warm heart and brain toward Acacia. She tried to back away from Maharet but found that she couldn't. And to her surprise and horror, she felt her arms reach out and take the organs. She saw Maharet smile and grin. She cried as she ate the organs against her will. As soon as she did this, she felt a powerful force enter her, almost knocking her to the ground. She screamed as she regained her will and rushed towards Maharet. She grabbed the woman and without thinking about it she bit into the neck of Maharet and started to drink her blood. With her last dying gasp, Maharet exclaimed "Hail, the new Queen of the Damned!".

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Acererak

My name is Acererak. I was born twenty-one years ago into the warrior tribe known only as the Walker of Shadow. My father, Thelos, was truly proud that day but would soon come to realize that his third son was to never be all that was expected. I was born an outcast, having what my people call a sickness of the mind, but my illness was not to manifest
itself until my thirteenth year. By this time I had realized that I had not the heart of a warrior, but felt the calling that a few of my race ever answered. I knew I was to be an ESPer. A few months before my thirteenth cycle I met a male known only as the Watcher. He helped me to open my mind to the universe and all it secrets. Then my father discovered me one night on my way to my midnight meeting with the watcher. That’s when the beatings began. He would howl with rage as he
struck me, telling that I would become a warrior and not disgrace that family honor. Little did he know the damage he was bearing upon me. One night during a particularly harsh beating I felt my mind shift, my hand flew up to meet his when…….

……I saved that little twerp from the butt-kicking of his life. Still hasn’t thanked me. Ungrateful louse. My name is Lorthos and I am what Acererak calls his “evil side”. Evil huh? He would be dead if it weren’t for me. Whenever he gets
himself into a jam I come out to save him….

….and he also got me into serious trouble that night, so much in fact that I was forced to leave my tribe and my home world forever. I have wandered may years searching for a world that I could call home and be safe of the torture and ridicule of this disease one doctor I met in my travels called MPD- multiple personality disorder. Shortly after being diagnosed I was walking a long a lone road when I happened upon a small child lying in a ditch close to death. She had been beaten badly. As I knelt closer to her I felt my mind go the way it did when first I encountered lorthos…..

….and as I looked upon that child I felt the I, Jena, was her only hope. Taking out a powerful healing potion Acererak had purchased, I touched the bottle to her lips. As the thick liquid touched her tongue I could see in her eye her health regaining. I stayed with her long enough to make sure she would be able to make it home alright….

…it was shortly after that that I came open what was to be my new and permanent home. This planet of 4 dimensions was perfect for me a land as jumbled as my mind. And it was here that I would come to find my new family. Drifter, the leader of a clan that thrived on chaos, found me in a dark alley, lost in a dark reverie, fighting to keep my sanity as the
voices in my head fought for control. It was he who took me in and gave me shelter, realizing that as the chaos of my mind drove me to keep control, so would it also keep me in service of the clan. I am truly thankful for him finding me that day, and I remain hopeful to one day silence the two who battle within me. But until that day I will remain loyal to my clan and leader.

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Aeia Eiae of the Iai'ea

Within the depths of the Iai'ean mountains, a secluded forest valley lies. Protected from those who can not survive the trek across the bitter frost, the people here have no fear of the outside world. Euae the healer, was teaching her son the skills of medicines, using plants, roots, and herbs the forest graciously provided for them. Near the outskirts of the forest, a faint cry could be heard, and out of healers instinct Euae went to investigate the sound she had heard.

As Euae and her son Aeia reached the edge of the forest, a dozen spans from the mountains base the faint cry could be heard again, slightly louder this time. Searching around the large boulders that are at the edge of the mountain, the sound could be heard many more times, but as she and her son got closer, it seemed to jump places. Unsure and weary of the situation, Euae took her sons' hand and began to rush back towards the forest edge. From the shadow she saw from corner of her eye, and a low crackling sound she heard, she instinctively stopped, jerking her sons arm back so hard, she dislocated his shoulder. With a resounding crash, a boulder slammed into the ground with great force, only a few feet away. The dust expelled from the impact of the boulder was thick in the air, making it hard to both see and breathe.

Covering Aeia's face and eyes with a silklike cloth, Euae held him tight in her arms and began to run back towards the forest again. Once out of the dust cloud, and back in the safety of the forests edge, Euae began her healing techniques on Aeia's shoulder, caressing his face every time he whimpered at the movements of his shoulder and arm being put back in place. She then bound his arm to his chest with a sling, and reached into her pouch for a small black root, which she placed in Aeia's mouth. Quickly the drowsiness took over, Aeia still in his mothers arms, fell into a relaxed, comforted sleep.

Dreams, more like nightmares. A vision of a blizzard, bitter cold, darkness surrounding. A familiar voice faintly in his ear. But what is she saying? "my son ... evil here ... I love ... forever ... give you ... power ... never return..." Darkness again. Falling, the wind in his ears, but no other sound. He tries to make a sound, but nothing.

--

A flash of white light, quickly jerking upward, I opened my eyes. Out of focus and confused I jumped up quickly, listening and feeling around, using senses that were just as confused. I close my eyes, my head spins, I try to concentrate... Slowly... Breathe... I open my eyes again. It's winter? I have never seen snow in the forest before, it usually can only be seen on the peaks of the mountain. Winter hasn't touched our forest in 14 generations. This forest is different, as my eyes continue to focus, I can see the trees are quite different. A rough substance surrounds them. I can break a piece off... There! Smooth like our trees, what is this stuff? I taste it. Very bitter, I spit it to the ground. What evil has done this?

I went running towards the edge of the forest, but stop abruptly when I get there, where are the mountains? What is that great stone building in front of me? Wait, it's not stone, it's ice! Turning quickly, I began to sprint away from the magnificent castle, not wanting to know what being resides within it. Wandering lost in the Frozen forest, I came upon a path that looked to lead to a way out. After many hours I see a large stone wall in the distance, the path leads directly into the wall, which has a gap for the path. As I pass by a well, I suddenly feel thirsty, stopping for a drink, I look into the water and don't recognise the person looking back. My eyes are the same, emerald green with flecks of light green throughout. My face seems older, much older than I remember being. Thats when it comes to me. What's my name? Searching my memory, my head aches, but I begin to remember. Iai'ean forest... A quick flash of a woman caressing my cheek, but it dissapates as quickly as it had surfaced... I wonder who she is. But that still doesn't answer anything, I know where I'm from, but who am I?

Taking another sip of water, and staring into my own eyes again from its reflection, it just arrives in my head, like someone had whispered it in my ear. Aeia Eiae. You are a son of the Iai'ea.

Satisfied for the moment, I continue to wander towards the wall. As a get to the wall, 2 guards step out from the shadows and snap to attention. One smiles and tells me to "Have a good day." That's when I see a sign in the ground. It's in a language I can read, but one word is unkown to me. The sign reads "Olde Yorke". Wandering into this village, a woman approaches me and requests money, stopping to speak with her, she is amazed to find out I have no idea what money is. She explains the concept of currency to me, though confusing, it seems it is the custom here to make trade for the things you require, in either a currency form, or by agreement of one type of resource for another. I continue on and reach what would look to be the center of this village. A rift in my vision as I'm looking around catches my eye, and I walk towards it. Holding my hand out, I reach to touch the

rift... As I do, everything turns fizzy for a moment, and I'm in a different place. Startled I quickly look around to find no one. "Calm down". I jump again, looking around everywhere. "I am invisible, as you need not know my identity. I welcome you to 4 dimensions traveller. I suggest you go north and learn the rules and customs of this place." I feel a pat on my back, hear a gust of wind and feel alone. Reading the signs and following the arrows, I go north towards a "Mud School". So it seems my journey begins here.

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Aemelia

I've never known my birth date, or even my place of birth. I have vague recollections of my life as a child. They place me in a small villa during the 13th century. I spent most of my years in this place called Aragor, with the human Azure's. I was one of three children in the home. It was some time before I realized that I wasn't really their blood. I suppose if I'd ever asked why I looked different, they may have told me.

They treated me as their own, and as naive as I was at the time it didn't seem to matter. I felt security in my new family. The Azure's taught me philosophy, religion, and even self-defense. I grew, respecting this "God" they'd taught me. Reading any literature, poetry, or even notes that I could get my hands on. So thirsty for knowledge.(a trait I can't seem to outgrow). Ah yes, the children. Philip and Annebelle... Needless to say we were the best of friends until their teens. I suppose all the teasing and ridicule from the locals got to them. Or perhaps their parents obvious favoritism of me. I loved them both the same.

I never knew Master and Mistress Azure's names, as queer as it may sound, I always referred to them as father and mother. I loved my new family with all my heart, and day in and day out I spent an hour in the nearby cathedral praying for their well being. *A single tear falls*

The Azure's were a wealthy and educated family, and as all prominent families, the Azure's had a few enemies...One night while we were asleep, I was awoken by the sound of broken glass. I rushed from my rest to investigate. It was too late... the doors and windows were all barricaded except for the one used to ignite the house. I didn't know what to do. I gathered the family and dropped to my knees. Praying above the loud screams from outside. Over the, "Half-breed!" "Freak!" "Demon Lovers!" "Burn and rot in hell!" I prayed like I never had before. I even prayed as I heard my love ones cry, and felt the flames licking my skin. I prayed harder and harder. Wishing that "God" would spare them. I kept praying when the flames took the air from my lungs and left me unconscious. I prayed harder and harder.

I awoke some two days later and found myself at the feet of The Time Guardian. I cried out to him, "Where are they?!" "Please tell me they got out!" ....he gave no answers. I lay there at his feet for days, churning with emotions in his silence. A horrid desire of vengeance, hatred of "God", and the greatest despair fathomable. So here I am, not sure of where I'm going or what I'm searching for. I only know that I will find vengeance, I know no faith, and I hope to find my true heritage during my travels.

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Ahriman

Ahriman was born to a merchant. Not very wealthy but not dirt poor. He was the youngest son of two, so when his brother took over the business, Ahriman was forced to go find something else to do. The merchant, (who died soon after so you don't need to know his name), had a local swordsman teach his sons some basic weapon skills.

So Ahriman decided to see if he could join some mercenaries. While he was wandering down a road, he ran into the Red Hand. They took him in as a camp worker, but not a fighter. While he was there, an elderly soldier taught him some more combat tactics like bashing your opponent and using your feet. During a bloody battle, the enemy broke into camp and Ahriman was forced to defend himself. Many died, but the regiment leaders took notice of Ahriman's skills and hired him back at a soldiers pay. From then on he became a good fighter. While not very strong, he was very fast and accurate, sometimes landing two or so blows before his enemy could react. He picked up that weird accent and some strange terms from his work with the Red Hand.

Alas, there came a day when the regiment was attacking the city of a local independent baron. An evil wizard working for the baron made a horrible poison, blended it in the drinking water and killed most of the soldiers. Many of Ahriman's good friends died. They took Ahriman prisoner and tortured him severely, but he finally managed to escape. While he was running, he snatched a strange looking blue stone from the wizard's room.

The wizard chased and trapped him again. In desperation, Ahriman threw the stone down and was magically transported in time to the shattered realms of 4 Dimensions. Since then he has been hunting down the wizard through time, searching so he could get revenge...

He finally tracked the wizard to a town named "Olde Yorke"... Knowing that he would be recognized, he disguised himself as a common thief. There he has been waiting. But while being a thief, he has become more evil than he used to be. Backstabbing his friends has corrupted him some. Will he ever become good again? Or will he become as evil as the wizard he hunts?

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Alayna

The woman looked over her shoulder at the small group of people, smiling and waving to those who boarded the shuttle from her home planet Niveroku to the nearest time trap. The people of her homeland were unique in the way of Nekos. Feline ears and tails on seemingly human bodies. Though they could purr, and had feline-like abilities... always landing on their feet, for one. They are kind hearted folk, so it broke her heart to raise a pale hand and wave to her two little sisters, mother and father. With nothing more than a bag over her shoulder she made off to this strange new way of life... a time traveler.

Yeah, her skills are kind of low, the woman still has one hell of a sense for adventure, so of course this is perfect for her. It would keep her out of trouble, for instance. When she was a kit (Kind of a mix between kitten and kid) she used to wander through the forest, collecting random items, and bringing them to people, to barter for something soft, or shiny. Also she had this weird idea that completely robbing certain places (The ridiculously wealthy folk up the lane for one) was ok, so long she could use the things, or pass them on to someone else.

Memories like this flooded her mind as she took a not so comfortable seat in the rear of that shuttle, and tucked her bag against her flank. Taking one last peek out the small smudgy window at her home world, those bright eyes closed lightly and her head reclined against the seat. What was to come? Would she be successful in her travels? Is it possible that new friends, relationships and trusting bonds can be formed in this 'fourth dimension'? The thought knotted in her stomach so terribly she was going to be sick, but it was too late now... She was on her way.

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Alexandria

Alexandria was a young babe when her parents left her for good. She lived a long life, though still very young. She has been traveling her whole life, ever since walking was able. She seems a quiet girl, and timid at times. Her family, she does not know. She does not wish to see her family, as they had left her. Her life has had many troubles, including the loss of her best friend, a small black kitten, with the name Moonstarr. She wishes to get another black kitten, and have another Moonstarr, though the first will never be replaced. Her life seems long, though it is not. She works hard to fulfill her life, and now she is with child, and soon to be married to Jared, her first and only true love. She is happy now, she has a family, and will be adding on more now.

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Alexis

Alexis wasn’t always as complacent as she is now, nor has she always been a slave. It was just a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. So let me go back to the beginning of Alexis’ story.

Alexis was a little bit on the rebellious side, well maybe a little bit is an understatement. She would always pick fights with those that were always way out of her league. Then, for some reason that she doesn’t want to disclose, she gave up on picking the fights. Alexis started to learn how to track animals, and finally came to the conclusion that tracking animals was too easy and she wanted something more challenging.

So, one day she was in Aussie and she picked her victim within the throng of the crowd and followed her. She walked as indiscreetly as possible without trying to bring attention to herself and eventually lost her victim when they rounded a corner. Alexis became frustrated, and tried to find the female she had been following.

About five minutes later Alexis felt a hand on her shoulder, and was spun around swiftly which caused her to lose her balance and fall to the ground before her victims feet. As Alexis looked up, she took notice to the female caressing a whip, and she instinctively grasped her weapon in her hand and tried to get up to slice the female’s throat.

Fortunately, the female was more agile than her, and whipped Alexis so hard she collapsed to the ground, with her weapon falling just out of reach. Her body ached from the force of the whip and she just lay on the ground in agony at her ‘victim’s’ feet.

The female turned to leave and dropped a tiny gold plated brochure accidentally on the ground, as if she didn’t notice. When the female was out of sight, Alexis moved her aching body over closer to the item the female dropped. Alexis opened the brochure and suddenly found herself surrounded by overstuffed satin pillows, but the gold and silver shackles which covered the walls made her a little uneasy.

The female appeared behind her and startled Alexis the second time that day. This time she revealed her name, Isis, and gave Alexis a choice; either she could stay in the pleasure pit and be tortured and rot, or she could become Isis’ slave. Alexis didn’t like either idea all that well, but all she knew is she didn’t want to be tortured again. So Alexis decided to become Isis’ slave.

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Amelia

I was born into a noble family of High Elves. My parents were always aloft and distant towards me. They let me run about and do what I wanted. On my 18th birthday the elders of the community approached my family about a marriage for me to the son of a neighboring noble family. The son of the family hated me as much as I hated him, yet he was willing to go through with the marriage because the elders had told him to. I refused; I would not marry him and indulge the whims of the elders. My parents begged me to reconsider, in an effort to save the family honor, I scoffed at them saying, “Family honor? What does that mean to me? You never cared about me before why now? Just to save the family honor? I have no care for that, what about what I want and need?” My parents got angry and sent me away. The next day the elders approached me saying that if I didn’t marry I would be cast out of the village and all other villages. I was to be shunned by al elven kind. I still refused and was thrown out of the village. All of my thoughts and emotions turned against them towards hate. None of them ever cared what I thought or felt or wanted, ever. So I decided to travel and find the drow. I wanted to join them, for I hated my kind, as did they. I arrived near the hills that I was told was the land of the drow, after about a year of travel. One day while walking nearer to the hills, someone that at first, I couldn’t quite see attacked me. I noticed it was a drow, and I said, “Wait! Don’t kill me I’ve been searching for the drow for about a year now. I want to join them in their mission, the elves have no care for me and I hate them all.”

The drow stopped and looked at me and said, “Follow me.” I followed him under the hills past many drow and into a room that looked like a temple altar. Then the drow turned to me saying, “Get on your knees and keep your head bowed if you want to live.” I kneeled down and bowed my head and waited for whatever was to become of me. I waited for what seemed like 10 hours or more. I wasn’t even sure anyway because I had lost count after the first hour or so. Suddenly I heard a voice say, “How dare you, you despicable elf, come into my temple? What brings you here alive, for you are certainly not a sacrifice? Hurry and answer me before I turn you to stone.” “My lady, I am not exactly sure what to call you; I have come seeking to become a drow. The elven people have kicked me out because I would not do what they wanted me to do. They have no care for me and have exiled me. I have nothing but hatred for those who gave me life, and wish to serve you in your mission to exterminate them.” I didn’t hear a reply for the longest time. I kept my head down and stayed on my knees. I expected to be turned to stone, then the voice said again to me, “I have considered your request and have examined you for any hint of lying, and found your story sound. I also see the hatred you hold in your heart for the high elves runs pure,” I hissed at the mention of their name, “So I have decided to grant your request.” “My lady,” I said hesitating at being so bold to ask anything of her with her giving me permission to do so. “yes I see you have something to ask, it had better be reasonable or I will change my mind.” “My lady, I only ask that you would change me into a drow so I am fully accepted by them, also so I don’t cause distress in your kingdom.” “Ah! Not only are you strong in spirit but in mind also, I will grant your request, stand up Amelia.” I stood up but still kept my head bowed. Suddenly I saw a dark cloud envelop me and enter every part of my body. A wave of fire, or heat, crashed through me. It felt as if my skin was on fire. In a matter of seconds my skin had turned from a talc color to a charcoal color, my hair turned to deep purple, and my eyes to a vivid green. Inside I rejoiced finally I was free from the only thing that still bound me to the high elves. Then the voice said to me “Welcome my daughter to the land of the Lolthites. Now as joining my kingdom you need the pledge your self to me and my goals. Also I want you to become a priestess in training.” “My lady, you are the only person I know who has ever cared for me. You listened to me even though you wanted to kill me. So I pledge my life, my skills, and all my power to honor you and accomplish your goals. I will gladly undertake the goal of becoming your priestess.” Then Lolth said, “I accept your pledge of loyalty,” as she embraced me, “Now go learn and accomplish my goals.” I bowed and turned walking out of the room with my goals turned towards proving my self to the drow people and becoming a priestess of Lolth, the only person who ever cared for me.

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Amidala

No one is quite sure how Amidala came to the realms. It didn't matter anyway. She quickly made friends with her personality and fun-loving attitude. Dela and Nicoli adopted her and raised her as their own. She won the heart of one of the strongest players in the realms, Johas. They married and she adopted his son, Pharggo.

Soon, she started feeling like something was missing. Something wasn't quite right with life, so she moved on and travelled on her own for quite some time, searching for something that she couldn't quite put her finger on. After two years, she returned to the realms thinking that she would never figure out, or find, what it was that was missing. Yet, little did she know, that what she was looking for, was waiting for her back in the realms the entire time.

However, things had changed while she was gone. Changed in a big way. Her father was gone. Her mother had moved on as well, however still comes back to visit every so often. Amidala went back to what was once her home, and found it abandoned. Everyone had left. She was on her own.

But she was welcomed back into Dark-Jedi with open arms. They took care of her when she was a child, and they were here to take care of her now...as they always will be. She quickly picked up what was left of her life and moved on. She met a wonderful man named Shade, and they quickly became devoted to one another. So devoted, in fact, that their first child is already on the way.

Although a good part of her life is filled with good and happiness, having been raised on the darkside has had its affects on Amidala. She will stop at nothing to get what she wants...

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Amsacaia

Candlelight danced on the wall as an old armour-smith - (a friend of my father’s I was later told) - worked on a breastplate over a glowing red anvil. You could hear a baby’s cry coming from the next room. In there you could see a baby lying in a cradle. When it turned it was clear that it was an elf, its pointed ears stuck out from under its long blonde hair, and when you looked into its deep forest green eyes you would be brought almost into a trance. On the bed was a sign that said Qurion.

IT’S ME, SILLY, I’M ABOUT 3 MONTHS OLD HERE. I’M CALLED QURION HERE, BECAUSE THAT’S MY NAME… BUT MORE OF THAT LATER.

Ok... Let’s skip a few years, since no major events happened over the next 5 years … So now, here I am, a five year old child in an old armour-smiths house. My life is great. I have friends, good friends and my best friend is Lirona, a male human. I have a great guardian, Reno, an old grey human armour-smith. He cares for me as if I were his son. And finally, there’s my home, a great little room in Reno’s house.

But when that night came, that took it all away from me, my life was ruined, or at least I thought as much at the time. That night I was lying in my bed, when suddenly I heard lots of screaming coming from outside. It sounded like hell itself. I decided that if I didn’t do anything my life was over, so I jumped out of bed, and pulled on my animal skin clothes. I ran into the main room looking for Reno, but he was gone. He must have gone to help the rest of the town. So I searched the room (he was an armour smith after all, so I thought there would be some kind of weapon or armour that could help me). But there was nothing. No weapons, and all the armour was either to big or to heavy. So I ran out the door in just my night-gown.

It seemed that the screams were caused by a knoll raiding party, attacking the village. I saw Lirona at the door to his house, so I ran to him and told him to follow me, so we could get out alive. We were running to the gate, dodging side to side around the knolls. We were a few metres away from the main gate when suddenly Lirona … Sob, sob… - my best friend hit the dust… I saw a javelin had been thrown into his back. And before I knew it there were like six knolls all around me.

I did all a 5 five-year-old elf kid could do. I screwed into a ball on the ground and sobbed, when all of a sudden a green ray burst from my chest and a spirit appeared. It spoke to my mind, it said “ Amsacaia, you are the hope of the forest, you do not belong here. Go north from the city to the forest of Lerqishon. there you will find your birth parents. You are not meant to die here and now.“ Then it disappeared, and all of a sudden I felt hope, my heart burnt with righteous fury. I thought; Lirona, Reno, I will avenge you... And all of a sudden a green blast came out from me, going in all directions. It killed the knolls and I ran and ran north. I wanted to find the forest…

After hours of running I collapsed at the edge of the forest. (I was told that I was out for weeks). I dreamt about the spirit, the death of my friends, and that power I had felt. I dreamt of the knolls. And suddenly I woke in a bed in a wooden room. There was a beautiful Elven maiden next to me and she spoke, “Hello Qurion, I am your mother. I am sorry that I haven’t been there for you in the past. Oh, how I have looked for you after that day, when Arrone, an evil mage - he looked half man, half wolf - (I now know he was a space wolf but, in that land those didn’t exist) - he stole you. He spoke about how you were the hope for the good and how you must die. He left the village and left me, your father and, oh yes, your twin sister … If you’re here now, someone must have saved you. You will now live hear back home at long last.“

And then I screamed “Who’s the one? I have a sister?” And as I said that a young Elven girl walked in. “Hello,“ she said to me and then she turned and whispered to my mother. I heard what she said though; ”How can he do anything? He is already 5, he has no skills and he’s a scrawny little weakling.“ Then I shouted, “I’d like to see what YOU can do then… Ha! Nothing!” All of a sudden a missile of energy appeared and blasted into me. Sure, it hurt, but I didn’t move. I had regained my strength. My sister just gasped and said, “Mummy, maybe he is the one that normally sends daddy flying to the ground? So with a bit of training he might save us all.“ “What do you mean? Everyone keeps calling me ‘the one’, and saying I have great power, and I can save them all. This spirit even said I was the hope of the forest.“ ”Ok, son,“ a man walked in; “You out of anyone who lived or will live has been hand chosen to save the forest and the Realms from the evil tide. In case you haven’t noticed, evil has struck the world. You must help us. The forest is the most magical place in the world. I shall tell you what the prophesies has written. An Elven child, born as a twin of the forest of magic, when the world is in need, will save us all. I will train you to use strength and to survive.”

Over the next few years I trained in the class of a ranger. I did so for 12 years. Until the day I was to leave the village. So I donned my armour and wielded my weapons and climbed onto a horse. As I rode out, I heard a horse gallop towards me from behind and a voice cry, “Qurion, I’m coming with you!” It was my sister. I didn’t argue, just went on riding beside her. As we rode on I felt a blast in my head and I fell off my horse. I appeared to be in an endless plain of white, there was nothing there, just me and that green spirit. It said “Amsacaia, hope of the forest, so you are starting on your quest? Good luck “ I replied, “Huh, I’m Qurion, not Amsacaia.“ It said, “Ok, you were called Qurion at birth, but you are the chosen, so you should use the name of the prophesy; Amsacaia, hope of the forest.” “So be it,” I said. ”Ok, now I will tell you what you should do. You must only kill evil and help the good. You also should join a clan called Table Round. You can’t join them yet, because they only take the strongest, so you must train in goodness until you are strong enough. When you have done that, I will tell you where to go from there. Good luck!“

I awoke. I had nothing, no weapons no armour and was only in my underclothes. And so was my sister, who was sitting looking at me. She said, ”Qurion.” “No it’s Amsacaia.” “Ok, you have accepted your fate, but where are we?“ As she said that, a great space wolf appeared, riding a giant black dragon. I screamed, “Look out!“ She turned around and said, ”Arghhhhhhhhhh, Amsacaia, look out!” He grabbed her with magic and beat her and did …..errrrr… I couldn’t say… I knew I had no power and no items, but I jumped to my feat and dived at him, screaming “FOOOOORRRRRR THHHHHHHHHHEEEEEE FFFFFOOOOOORRRREEESSSSSSSTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!” He just fired a giant blast at me, sending me crashing to the floor. I looked, and saw my sister casting a spell. It looked as if she was doing a spell to send me to the safest place. But then I fell asleep. I awoke in a place they call Recall, and that’s where I am today.

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Angel

Born into a wealthy family in the Elven city of Lyrria; my life was pretty much guaranteed to be exciting. Growing up as a boy, I was taught various things such as etiquette, how to address your elders or people of status. I never really understood any of those things and would always skip out on my lessons and find myself wandering the forests in search of anything adventurous. The last time I went out into the forest, I was exploring for a longer time than normally. As the sun set I started to walk back to the city. Arriving about a mile before the city, my nostrils filled with a horrible stench. That of death and decay and of fire... Looking closely up ahead I saw that the entire city walls were engulfed in flames. Seeing this all I could do was run to the city to see what was going on.

Ten steps from the gate, I noticed it was shut and locked? Why would the gates be locked with an inferno blazing inside I wondered? THUMP! I didn't know what hit me or who hit me... I thought I was dead, another helpless victim being carried off to the Otherworld by the Guardian of Life. I don't know how long I was out for but eventually I did open my eyes. And instead of seeing a glorious peaceful city in the heavens, I saw the total opposite. Around me stood 12 demons in robes gazing down at me, piercing my very soul with their eyes. At me feet stood a distinct individual who was taller than the others and I could clearly see his face... red skin, deep red glowing eyes; and horns on his head like that of a picture in one of our books in the City Library, a bull.

I didn't feel fear, I didn't feel my body. All I could do was stare at that man and around me. And then just as I blinked, the 12 robed figures beside me kneeled and all that stood now was the horned figure at me feet.

"Angel Penumbra, I've been searching the whole continent for you, above and below. In the heavens and in the Netherworld. I have finally found you. See, you are a distinct individual my son.
Only you of everyone in the World possessed the ability to pass in between the Netherworld and the Heavens, as well as other dimensions that we have never seen before. You see, one of those dimensions is where our supreme father lies and is awaiting to be resurrected."

Moving to the side of me he grabbed my arm, and now I could feel my arm against his. It felt very warm as if he'd been in the sun all day or even fire. "My name is Khorne, some might call me the Blood God or rather Khaine Lord of Murder. Before I can accomplish the resurrection, I need you by my side as my General, General of all of Hell's Army. To put it in words you understand; if you do not join me by my side your life will consist of eternal suffering here in the pits of hell. But if you join me, I grant you unimaginable powers and eternal life for as long as you serve me. Will you accept my offer, General... Mortifer? I shall call you Mortifer, Bringer of Death and Destruction. What is your decision Mortifer?"

I had no other choice, and I didn't want to die... or suffer eternal damnation. So I agreed to his proposal with a stern reply, "Yes, I will serve under you Khorne and I will give you total devotion." As I looked at him he sneered and grinned.

"I knew you'd agree, so we have a deal then." He shook my hand and held it still. "First, before we can resurrect our supreme father you must first seek out my brothers and tell them of my plans so that we may do this with united will and power. They can be within any Dimension; so as you see this may take a very long time. My brothers are Tzeentch, God of Magick and also an excellent Strategist. Nurgle, the God of Pestilence, Decay, and Disease. And last, Slaanesh, the Prince of Chaos and Lord of Pleasure and Pain."

"When you find all of my brothers, bring them to me so that we can perform that sacred artifice that will bring our father back to this World with powers to pass through dimensions at will and destroy entire Worlds. Do not be afraid to ever call on me if you ever need help. I will be here for you as well as the entire Realm of Hell. You are our only hope, do not fail us. Now go! Seek out my brothers and tell them of my plan!"

Letting go of my hand, the robed figured stood back up and began chanting slowly and then faster as they raised their arms high. A red glow begin to build inside my body as it grew and enveloped me I was now floating up into the room... but it wasn't a room anymore like before, it was inside a stone castle that I've never seen before. Standing up, and looking around, observing a painting nearby... it read "Lord Mirkheim".

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Aramil

Long before time travel was even heard of me and my brethren elves were very well known in our world. Times were good, peace was reigning throughout the land and the only battles and strife taking place were in the lands of the undead to the west. At times parties of orcs would stumble into one of our villages, but besides these rare encounters pacifism occurred. We had made new friends with the dwarves of the mines and our companionship was of great importance to the elders of my race. We taught them in the ways of art and magic, and in return they forged great weapons for us. Yes, all elves lived great lives knowing little of hardship.

Till one sinister day when our dark kin attacked a small party of dwarves. The dwarves in their short tempers put the blame on us, and so The War of Beard began. At this time dwarves were well known for their temper and lack of forgiveness. No matter how hard we tried to restore peace, they kept attacking. But still, we refused to fight those who at one time were our greatest friends. Slowly the dwarves took our land and slaughtered all of elven descent.

Finally the dwarves arrived at one of our main cities. They stormed through our gates and killed our men while they slept. Their leader broke into our palace and found the Phoenix King, ruler of all the elves. They fought for hours, and many times the Phoenix King could have slain the dwarf but refused to kill. The King then laid his sword down, showing he would not fight his friends and wanting to end this unjust war. The dwarven leader, showing that there truly was no hope and that all honor had escaped from the dwarves, then cut down the Phoenix King. He stole his crown and wore it proudly, the dwarves hailed him, as we thought of him as a murderer.

Finally the last of the battles came. The dwarves were at our final front, and we were preparing to evacuate everyone to the island of Ulthuan were no dwarf would go. I had prepared my sword and was sprinting through the forest towards the battle. On my way I slayed many dwarven scouts and warriors. Finally I saw the battle. It seemed all hope for the elves on this land was gone. But still, I ran towards the fight.

I fought on in the battle, and worked my way to the leader of this dwarven war host. Parry after parry we fought on. I finally broke his defenses and the dwarf lay helpless on the ground. But instead of being lowered to dwarven standards and murdering this high leader, I dropped my sword in hope of them seeing that all we wanted was peace. But the dwarves still showed no sign of any of them having a brain to think with. One sneaked behind me, and pierced me in the back.

All went black. Until I found myself at the feet of some being known as the Time Guardian. And thus my life as a Time Traveler began.

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Asher

The history of Asher:

The sun beat down mercilessly upon the backs of the workers bent over sheaves of corn that stood like sentinels. Sweat trickled down between Asher’s shoulder blades, tracing the paths of the firm muscle of his torso. He glanced up, dark sapphire eyes trained to the blazing orb in the sky that hung mercilessly above him.

There was a dull ache at the base of his spine caused by carrying bundles of corn into the silo where they would be stored for the coming winter. When the day’s work was finished his father clasped his shoulder with one callused hand, a silent testament of thanks for another day of labor.

Since his family had moved away from the cities to become citizens of the old west and live ‘the good old life’ as his father called it when reminiscing, life had been an endless stream of toil. The sun still hot in his back he stumbled out to the barn, finding no respite in the bustling household full of younger siblings.

As he collapsed into the pile of hay that was closest to the back wall of the barn Asher soothed the cow who pawed the dirt floor nervously in her stall. A few bits of yellowed straw had entangled themselves in his dark curls and as he settled down to sleep in the cool dampness of the barn more of the straw prickled against his shoulder blades and back.

Just as he was about to doze off he felt a sudden pain against his side and wincing dug into the hay until his hand made contact with something solid. Slowly he pulled free a wooden box made of a rough dark material. Slowly he slid his hands over the surface and brushed a bit of dust from a rusted nameplate. Asher B. Dorilam was just legible and Asher frowned, this was certainly not his box, but his curiosity was peaked.

Using the tip of his pocketknife he pried the lid off and slid an oilcloth free to look within. Nestled there was a revolver. Asher brushed his lean fingertips across the cold steel of the barrel and smiled. This was the weapon of his grandfather, the man his father would not speak of, and now he knew why. Pacifism clearly did not run in his family as his father had sought to instill in him.

In the morning as the gray fingertips of dawn crept over the horizon Asher stumbled out of the farm house and ran towards the dirt path that lead away from the frontier and into the strangeness of the outer world. Asher would not be like his father, to be rooted in place was not his desire, rather to be free to roam the world and make his own destiny.

That was how his story would begin, with naught but his grandfather’s pistol and a backpack with essentials Asher set out to brave the world on his own.

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Asmoday

Well to understand who Asmoday really is please read the followings:
Name of the prince of demons: The meaning of the name and the identity of the two forms here given are still in dispute.

In the Book of Tobit.
Asmoday first appears in the Book of Tobit. According to Tobit iii. 8, vi. 14, the evil spirit Asmoday -"king of the demons," in the Hebrew and Chaldaic versions, is a later addition-fell in love with Sarah, the daughter of Raguel, and for that reason prevented her from having a husband. After killing seven men successively on the nights of their marriage to her, he was rendered harmless when Tobias married her, following the instructions given him by the angel Raphael. Asmoday "fled into the utmost parts of Egypt and the angel [Raphael] bound him" (ib. iii. 8, vi. 14 et seq. viii. 2-4).

In Testament of Solomon.
Akin to this representation in Tobit is the description of Asmoday in the Testament of Solomon, a pseudepigraphic work, the original portions of which date from the first century. Asmoday answered King Solomon's question concerning his name and functions as follows: Test. of Solomon, transl. in "Jewish Quarterly Review," xi. 20.
"I am called Asmoday among mortals, and my business is to plot against the newly wedded, so that they may not know one another. And I sever them utterly by many calamities; and I waste away the beauty of virgins and estrange their hearts. . . . I transport men into fits of madness and desire when they have wives of their own, so that they leave them and go off by night and day to others that belong to other men; with the result that they commit sin and fall into murderous deeds."

Solomon obtained the further information that it was the archangel Raphael who could render Asmoday innocuous, and that the latter could be put to flight by smoke from a certain fish's gall (compare Tobit viii. 2). The king availed himself of this knowledge, and by means of the smoke from the liver and gall he frustrated the "unbearable malice" of this demon. Asmoday then was compelled to help in the building of the Temple; and, fettered in chains, he worked clay with his feet, and drew water. Solomon would not give him his liberty "because that fierce demon Asmoday knew even the future" (ib. p. 21).

Asmoday, Ashmedai, and Æshma.
"Originally a mere epithet of the storm fiend, Æshma was afterward converted into an abstraction, the demon of rage and anger, and became an expression for all wickedness, a mere name of Ahriman ["Introduction to Vendidad," iv. 22]. This description of Æshma, as he appears in the Zend-Avesta, tallies with the dominant conception in Pahlavi writings. Thus in Dabistan, i., Dink, xxxvii. 164: 'The impetuous assailant, Wrath (Æshm), when he does not succeed in causing strife among the righteous, flings discord and strife amid the wicked; and when he does not succeed as to the strife even of the wicked, he makes the demons and the fiends fight together.'"

In "Shayast ha-Shayast" (xviii.) Æshm is described, quite unlike Ahriman, as the "chief agent of the evil spirit [Ahriman] in his machinations against mankind, rushing into his master's presence in hell to complain of the difficulties he encounters."
A consideration of the linguistic arguments does not support the hypothesis of an identification of Ashmedai with Æshma-dæva, as "dai" in Ashmedai hardly corresponds with the Persian "dæva," in view of the Syriac form "dawya" (demon) with the consonant "w"; nor is there any instance of the linking of "Æshma" and "dæva" in Persian texts. The Asmoday of the Apocrypha, and Æshma, however, seem to be related. In the Testament of Solomon Asmoday appears as seducing man to unchaste deeds, murder, and enmity, and thus reveals many points in common with Æshma. The "Bundehish" (xxviii. 15-18) furnishes the most striking resemblance: "There, wherever Æshm lays a foundation, many creatures perish."

Well this is his history through time. Now he has joined another time and world... the 4D one... and be sure his legend will continue.

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Asmodeus

Asmodeus was the elven son of the devil himself. In fact, the name 'Asmodeus' means devil. He was born with powers beyond all belief. As he was growing up, he thought his life was made. There was one problem though, Asmodeus was missing something. Something inside of him, like a hole in his chest...

As Asmodeus grew older, stronger, and more powerful, the pain inside grew along with him. Eventually, he realised what was happening. He was lonely, hated by everyone but his father. He made a decision which made his life really hard for the rest of his life... he decided that he didn't want to be the devil's son any longer. Asmodeus didn't know how to accomplish this, but he thought long and hard. He came up with the simplest idea for a child’s mind...

Asmodeus tried to run away, but, of course, it was no use. The devil found out about Asmodeus and punished him dearly for defying him. He scolded him and took away all of his powers, so he thought, and left him weak and even more alone. He dumped him in the middle of a dark forest, hopefully never to find his way out.

Little did his father know that he could never take away all of his strength or strand him in the middle of a forest, because his mother was watching upon him. His mother, which Asmodeus didn't know, was an archangel, and would always watch over him. One day, still completely dark out in the middle of the forest, a silvery light shown through the trees. Asmodeus followed it, for he was alone and thought nothing worse could happen to him. He reached the end of the forest. He took shelter in an abandoned cave, and lived there for a while.

After all of this had happened, Asmodeus started learning how to be a mage by scrolls he had found in the cave. Asmodeus decided he needed to find some friends because he was miserable. Eventually, while exploring, he found his way into 4-D, and his life was never be the same again.

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Autumn

On a warm autumn morning, a beautiful daughter was born to an upper-class elven family and was given a name describing her season of birth, Autumn. She was an only child, as well as the only grandchild to both sides of her family. She never wanted for anything, but as fortunate and grateful she was this, it did not fulfil her need for adventure or her constant search for those who are different from herself.

On her 17th birthday, she bundled up her most prized possessions, took one last look around the place that would never fulfil her need for adventure, and left her family, community and the only place she had ever known to, find a place for herself, a place she could make a home for herself.

After many months of searching, and after having lost all that she had brought with her to thieves and other scoundrels along the way, she stumbled into 4 Dimensions. As she took a good look around, she found that it was a place that many different races and classes called home, and lived together, somewhat harmoniously. The scenery was breath-taking, and almost everyone she met was friendly and helpful. There were so many places within these realms to explore, she knew that she had found her place in the world, a place to call home.

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Babbette

A quixotic story to say the least, a small elven child was born to two time travelers who would spend their days exploring and adventuring across the dimensions, never in any spot for too long. Her parents would have been called at best space drifters, hopping from planet to planet in search of what nobody knows, except perhaps on a pleasure-seeking thrill ride. The young Babbette was dragged along with her parents, never able to call any one place “home.” And not many people “friend”… as soon as she met people, her parents were off to another place and time and would drag her with them on their search for another adventure.

Babbette began to grow up, learning to be sarcastic. She would flirt with all, but never allow herself to get close to any one person in fear that one day she would have to leave again with her parents and it would break her heart.

One day, while her parents were planet hopping, they decided to visit the Pleasure Planet Her parents were always up for an adventure that fulfilled their thirst for the extraordinary. While there, they visited Quixotica, a strange place to be sure. On the trip to Quixotica, her parents came across a quirky little crooked house and stopped to look at the exhibits. Babbette, who was with them, yawned with boredom (as most young children often do). She spied a ball on the ground and began kicking it around. Before she knew it, she was out the door of the house and on the Northern Causeway.

She wandered the Causeway for awhile and then came across a vendor selling balloons. She exclaimed over the pretty colors and turned to ask her parents if she could have one, only to find that they weren’t there! She began to cry and the balloon vendor asked her what was wrong. She told him she lost her parents in a crazy little house somewhere nearby. To comfort the obviously distraught Babbette, the vendor gave her one of his special balloons and took her by the hand.

They went off in search of her parents, as it wasn’t safe to wander the Causeway due to the unsavory types on the rampage these days. The vendor led her back to the crooked little house and they searched it high and low, but her parents weren’t anywhere to be found.

Not sure what to do with the young Babbette, as it wasn’t safe to keep her with him all day, he took her to the Shangri La Hotel where he knew of another time traveler who might be able to help find her parents.

The time traveler’s name was Karth and he promised to try to help find the young Babbette’s parents. Thus, they began their search through time and space and eventually came to love each other, though Babbette was at first reluctant to acknowledge her feelings for the reclusive and handsome time traveler, fearing she would one day become just like her parents.

They returned to Quixotica often, hoping against hope to find her parents, but to no avail. Perhaps one day she will finally find them, but in the meantime she is starting a new life of her own.

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Belial

Belial, deity of Darkness:

Belial was born in the year of death and sin, now known as the years of the renaissance. He is a mere mortal with altered powers given to him by his father Raistlin Lord of Fire.

Belial, while growing up studied many traits in the arts of combat, such as the massful stealthiness of the Lin'Chea Thief and Ninja guild near the South Banks of Hiram'oshe of the western civilizations. He also studied the skills and combat masteries of the warrior, thus learning to skill of steady swift swings with a sword or perhaps even a piece of bamboo, qualify as a deadly weapon, knowing these skills of fierce combat fighting. In his later years He took up the arts of the Eronatic'sihn monk skills used for rejuvenations of the human body, also known as the way of the Priests and Paladinian warriors.

Being the fact of the matter that Belial grew up with a immortal father and a mortal mother gave him a more odd reaction, allowing him to time travel in his dreams, in another term Shifting Reality, this occurrence allows him to periodically shift reality allowing him to imagine being different places on command and showing up in his Fantasy dreams of reality.

After finally starting to settle down and take advantage of the different life cycles of shifting reality made him stop for a period of time, leaving him in this new bizarre, erotic and yet demanding life style of freedom, which ultimately allows him rejoice in life and live life for what it's worth and not what’s expected. About the first month into his new realty of life, he became very good friends with a woman by the name of Juno, a nice- kind hearted friend that has been teaching him many ways of his new life, and outlook upon humanity and many other races together in harmony.

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Blade

Before coming to 4D Blade has wandered many realms and has become a hellacious fighter, but a generous being, helping any that he saw needed, and those even that asked. Blade hasn't always been a ranger. Generally he was a fighter or a thief but here he took both skills and molded them into what he is now, one hell of a good ranger.

Working on his own for the time being Blade will occasionally ask for help but will generally work solo. Blade is generally quiet, working the shadows and just walking around doing his own thing. When things get tough Blade will not hesitate to get physical and rumble with the best of them.

Do not mistake Blade's skills based on him being a ranger. He has traveled far and wide, and learned many skills not even thought of in this realm, except by a few who truly know Blade from elsewhere. Blade is a kind guy, but generally avoids relationships and any other things that can end up in disaster and feuds. At first glance Blade looks like your general shmoe, but what he knows and what he can do is not included in his outward appearance.

Talk to him, quiz him, fight him, and find out that this guy has no ordinary limits. His knowledge and potential are only limited to the time he can physically spend loping around and
becoming the best on the Realms. You'll slowly see him rise to fame and glory as he has elsewhere. You'll come to know him well and most likely not fear him but you will take him seriously.

His name will not be common but it will be there in the back of everyone’s mind. Whispering, haunting, chilling you to the bones. He is Blade, and he has come to 4Dimensions to increase his knowledge and potential!

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Brutusia

Brutusia always lived in the peaceful Elvenland. The Elvenland was one big island surrounded by the Icy ocean. She had a happy childhood. Her father is an expert in taking care of trees, plants and all other living things in the forests. While her mother, next to raising all her children, still managed to find time to do lots of cooking and helping out the other elves in the big Elven forest. Since the first day Brutusia could take a few steps, she tried to help her parents, together with her brothers and sisters, as much as she could, while learning all about cooking and plants and animals. If there was a celebration in one of the other elven houses, Brutusia was always around to help out.

As she got older and after learning everything she could about the nature in the Elvenland, she went to the Elven Elder who taught her the basics of magic and brewing potions. Being an eager and diligent student Brutusia learned fast and in no time she was an expert and began to teach others herself. Unfortunately that wasn't enough for her and she started to get restless. There wasn't a tree, plant, bush, flower, mountain or hole in the Elvenland that Brutusia didn't know. Yet, she put her restlessness aside and was always walking around with a happy feeling as long as she was busy.

Then one day, Brutusia must have been around 16 years old then, a foreign Elf appeared in the Elvenland. He was kind and got easily accepted by all the other Elves. At nights gathered around the warm campfires the stranger told stories about other races and other unknown places outside the Elvenland. None of the Elvenland people had ever been outside Elvenland so they where astonished by all the stories the foreign Elf told them. When Brutusia found out about all those new places outside Elvenland she got more and more curious and started to spend more time with the stranger. After hearing lots of other tales from the foreigner, Brususia's happy smile became sadder. She realized that if she would stay in Elvenland she would become very unhappy, knowing that there were more plants and places to explore outside the Elvenland. So she made the biggest decision in her life and decided to go look for those outworld places the strange Elf was telling about.

Firstly she informed her parents, brothers and sisters, who sadly let her go but all knew that Brutusia would be unhappy if they ordered her to stay. Then she went to the stranger who, in the mean time had settled in Elvenland and asked if there was a way she could go to the places he spoke of. He told Brutusia that there was a way, but that she had to think carefully about it because the worlds out there could be very dangerous at times. Nevertheless Brutusia made up her mind, so the stranger taught Brutusia a new strong spell that would take her to new, unseen lands where she would be able to learn new species, new plants and lots of other things.

Knowing that there could be a chance Brutusia wouldn't see her family again she said farewell to them and her friends and took a last look around her hometown. She then went to say goodbye to the stranger and after a last stroll in the Elvenland she went to her favorite spot: a big waterfall that formed a small lake. She sat down under a big, sturdy oak and closed her eyes. The only thing she could hear was the streaming water of the fall and Brutusia started to chant the spell the stranger told her about out loud.

After some time she noticed that the sound of the waterfall had disappeared. She slowly opened her eyes and found herself at a totally new place. Her everlasting smile showed up on her face again. She stood up looked around, picked up the clothes that were gathered in a box in front of her, put them all in a backpack she found and started to explore the new realms she was at.

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Cali

The faint sound of a baby’s laughter was heard deep within the forests of Xinanthe. Somewhere deep inside that dreary forest a little child could be heard giggling away with no fear of her own surroundings. Many who considered themselves warriors trembled at the thought of entering such a dominion. Though one hesitated not one second to find and help the baby within.

Big round eyes glimmered as Talburna came into view. Her hazel eyes shined brightly and immediately she burst into a bubble of laughter as Tal’s hand slowly descended to stroke the baby’s curly hair out of her face. A line of drool continued down her chin and as Talburna went to wipe it away, she caught her finger in her tiny grasp. Squeezing tightly she tugged it closer to her mouth and popped it inside. As her mouth curved into a small smirk, she knew she had found her family, she would not let her go.

Cali knew she was not born in that village near the forest. Though, she still loved her sister dearly, thriving on the lessons she provided on the skills needed of a dwarven warrior as well as the art of seduction. She had learnt a while back that flirting would get her many things in life. At age 16 she wanted a new bow, but the only wood to make it was in the dreaded Xinanthe forest. Gently swaying her hips, her chest pushed out, she walked up to one of the boys in town. Softly she ran her index finger down his chest and whispered to him ‘Could you possibly get me that bow, hon? I’ll make it up to…’ and with a light kiss on the cheek, she had her bow the next day.

As time went by, Cali became more and more restless in the small confines of the village. She wanted to venture out and use the skills she was taught. She wanted to see the world and all the dimensions that existed within it. Thus began Cali’s journey.

While on a small path, Cali met another dwarf who went by the name of Garion. He spoke of the many clans in the world and one in particular roused her interest - The Vikings!! Here she could use both her skills as well as gain the strength and power she yearned for.

It was here that she also met her first true love. He was known as Briseis, a sly elf, who could be kind and caring one minute and go on insane killing sprees the next. Perhaps it was his changing moods that attracted her, or maybe it was the fact that he could seduce her better than she. Either way, they became inseperable - you could always tell they were around when loud moans and grunts were heard close by.

One day, while walking away from a kill, a young man passed Cali by clapping his hands in appreciation. He was known as Parker. She had seen him wondering many times before but had never spoken to him. Bursting to tell someone of her victory she started to walk along with him and soon learnt of his newfound clan Chaos. Having her own chaotic lifestyle it was only right that she too join the clan. Thus after a little persuasion (smirk) she got her wish and was soon raised to her high status as the Chaotic Seducer.

All was going well for Cali - she had her man any time she wanted; she even had her clan leader any time she wanted and she was growing stronger with every passing day. Until suddenly, everyone disappeared. Parker left never to return again. Briseis followed soon after and Cali was left alone, single and FREE to be with anyone she wanted. (grin).

So of course she had to explore! There were so many new people she had yet to meet roaming around the world, and more importantly so many she had yet to seduce. On one of her expeditions to the local bar, she noticed a new young man in the far corner. He had a smirk on his face, with his hair slicked back, stirring a drink slowly. He seemed too sure of himself and if Cali had one reason for living it was to teach one and all never to be so smug. She had not seduced anyone for quite a while, and not wanting her skills to diminish she needed to practice them. Pushing her chest up, she slowly got off the stool, and swaying her hips to and fro walked up to the young man. Puckering her lips up, she slowly, purposely bent down and whispered to him ‘What’s your name sweety?’. With a slight quiver, he replied ‘Phar…Pharggo’.

Funny enough, Briseis returned that same night. Thinking she would never see him again, Briseis’ rugged appearance shocked Cali completely - she had to welcome him back of course! Oh what’s a girl to do!! Busy! Busy! Busy!

After 9 stressful months, Cali gave birth to two gorgeous babies. The baby boy looked a lot like that man in the bar, while the little girl had the exact same eyes as Briseis. Thus, having two kids to feed and take care of, it was time Cali begun to settle down. I wonder if she has though??

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Camazot

Far above the planet Mars, on the gray moon called Phobos, a small child was born. His parents, exiles of their home planet, were completely forgotten by the people of Mars. No one had seen or heard from them in nearly fifty years. They had hidden themselves away in the mountains of the moon, knowing that they would eventually have a child. They wanted the baby to grow up knowing his parents, but they also wanted him to grow up in the best life possible. They hoped that they would be able to move back to Mars by the time they had him, but this was not the way it would be. The male child was born on Phobos and during a very wonderful time of year.

The boy was born upon a day when both of the moons aligned with the sun. An ancient prophecy spoke of this day creating a child with great powers, beyond that of all of the Martians, that the beams from the sun would be mutated by the chemicals the first moon contained and strike the second moon, giving the one born upon that day extraordinary powers. He would use these powers to take over Mars and rule it forever. Alas, none of the prophecy was true. Only a single half-truth would come to be revealed when their child, Camazot, developed his ESP faster than any other Martian known.

Camazot, named after a god in one of the ancient earthly religions, was a kind and gentle person. He was nothing like the god which he was named after, and had no will to take over anyone or anything as the prophecy had foretold. When he was two years old, his parents found a way that they could move back to Mars. It was a perfect plan; everyone had thought that they had long since died in their exile. They would move in with his aunt, who would act as though Camazot were her own. His aunt had locked herself away in her house when her husband had died. She lived alone, so to get the things she needed she would order them and have them shipped to her storage room, which had a dock door. She never had to leave her house or let anyone in. It would be an easy story to weave.

Camazot’s parents would change their names and move into a house that was down the street from his new home. They would find work around the town and eventually “adopt” him from his aunt. That was the plan, anyway. Two weeks before Camazot’s third birthday his parents had gone back to Phobos to collect the rest of the memorabilia that they had left there and never returned. The only thing that was ever seen of them again was the holographic homing device that they had taken with them. What had happened to them was gruesome. The ship had been tampered with and exploded. Everything had been recorded including several minutes after the explosion.

By the age of five, Camazot had surpassed the students in his local school. His aunt was amazed by his talent and decided she would send him to a school for gifted students of all origin. The school was located on the rings of Jupiter, which was rather far away, but he knew he would be able to make the change. He moved to the school within a week after the suggestion and immediately started working diligently.

Camazot was very gifted when it came to schoolwork and very active in many of the clubs and activities. His greatest achievement of all was being the youngest person on the debate team, which he was admitted to at the age of ten. He used this popularity to gain a circle of friends, which he found that he could very easily manipulate. He would attempt to use this gift to advance himself in whatever he pursued. This gift of his would get him to the top of his class, the top of the hierarchy of students, and put the administration right into his pocket.

By the time Camazot would graduate from his school, he would become bored with everyone and everything around him. He wanted something. He began to explore all over the galaxy trying to find some place that wouldn’t bore him. Finally he found a place that was so interesting to him that he decided he would never leave it. Its name: 4 Dimensions.

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Casy

When you look upon Casy Rheon you see a female with long red braids, short stubby beard and a homely face, a typical dwarf. There is one thing that does stand out, that is the adventuresome glint in her eyes that burns with a flame, so bright you can never imagine it burning out.

Casy’s Story:

I come from Dromburrin, a well ordered society, where all the men are looked upon as High Supreme Ruler of all. Females are just jewels to be admired and put upon a pedestal.
Therefore, being the second child in a family of four and never having any hope of becoming clan leader, like my father, I was put upon a pedestal that I hated to the very core of my existence. I was not the kind of Lady Dwarf to sit back and be waited upon. I wanted to see the world and live it, not kept behind glass that I could never break free from. It was a chance day that came that I asked father to visit Mithdale a nearby village, it was a surprise to hear him say yes.

That fateful day will always stick in my mind.

Later an old family friend staggered into Mithdale, telling the story how Dromburrin was attacked viciously by a band of Dark Elves seeking a traitor. For the next hour I listened to how my clan was victimized and tortured, then when all was done they torched my village.

A grief that I had never known before gripped me in a too tight vice, for the first time in my life I realized that power was mine - a god almighty need for revenge. I approached Kail, chieftain of Mithdale, seeking help, he allowed me to form a war party. Skills I lacked I sought in other dwarfs, I had the ability to organize, after all my father was a clan chieftain. Revenge was mine but all too soon it soured. I walked through Dromburrin seeing what I didn't wish to believe to be true. Standing at my family’s burned out home I realized that I had been granted a wish but at a terrible cost. For the first time in my life I sought a direction that I had only dreamed about, that I was going to take life by the throat and live it for all I was worth.

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Cati

Nightdragon Mountain and the surrounding area used to be called Glen-Faliene. The village (Faliene) at the center of this area was one of peace. A place where creatures of all sorts could meet, trade and live. The centaurs of the nearby plains and forests had a special connection with the humans that lived in the town and the elves that lived in the forest - both were ancestors, cousins and friends.

Then the NightDragon came.

Dark as night with eyes that glowed as though they were portals to the flames of Hell itself, the dragon leashed his vengence upon the village, fields and trees - anything that could and would burn. The only crime the villagers and those around it had commited was to be alive. Once the area was burning, the NightDragon tore into the highest mountain and made his cave, his nest, his horde.

For the next ten years he terrorized any that dare step into the light of day, and sometimes those that would sneak into the night. The next hundred years, the NightDragon grew erratic in his attacks, allowing bushes to grow and sapligs to root before he destroyed any hope of life again.

Then came the first big slumber.

Life slowly crept back onto the plains as the dragon slept. But the elves who had been so dependant on trees had moved on, or some had even moved underground. The humans, unlike the elves and centarus with their long lives, only knew the terror of the NightDragon so it took them longer to return to the plains from the caves they had taken cover in for generations.

The small band of centaurs that remained took pity on the humans and helped them reclaim the ground for food and water. As the Nightdragon slept, the land thrived.

Then, after a couple of human generations, he awoke again.

Generations of Elves and Centaurs have passed since the dragon first arrived in Glen-Faliene. Living life while the dragon sleeps and living in fear when he wakens. The signs have come that the dragon will awaken again soon.

The only hope lies in the words of an old, mad blind woman who said:

"A Centaur foal
will be born to you
he'll celebrate life
with golden hooves.

Hoves that sparkle
Eyes that shine
showing inside
he's part divine

He'll muster his courage
and take no flack
until his sword's
in the nightdragon's back.

He'll be the hero
for all he sees
the savior of all
in Glen-Faliene"

Cati was born into the small centaur herd - each member of it is somehow related to her - parents, siblings, uncles, aunts - there was none for her heart to love. So it was known that she would venture from her loving home when her time came. And when it did, she left home promising her parents only one thing: She would marry only a centaur. No other race would be good enough for her.

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Cerinatha

Cerintha was born in the year 347, and her race when she started out was Centaur while being raised in the lands of the PreHistoric dimension. Whilst her parents took good care of her, they always taught her to never date out of her race, but this didn’t do any good. As she had a tough childhood because her parents were mean to her and made her do all of the work, she decided to leave and find herself. This was the only way that she could have her problems taken away, and get away from all of this prejudice which her parents had against all other races.

She moved around visiting all of the dimensions, and meeting new and interesting people. When she was searching through these dimensions there were many people that broke her heart, and made her remember how she was treated at home. This made her realize that anything is better than how her parents treated her while she was at home.

While she was in one of the dimensions she ran into this great guy named Krell, and they started dating. Although she had gotten her heart broken many times Krell gained her trust, and love. This relationship was built very fast, and they decided that they wanted to get married and have a child. After she became pregnant they decided that she would change her race to become a Spacewolf, instead of Centaur.

Later on she found out that he was from Varna, the son of the ruling royal family, Dregg. They are planning out their royal wedding right now, and Krell and Cerintha will be taking over his parents’ places in the royal family line. Although she wouldn’t be part of the bloodline, she knew that everyone would still love her and be kind to her.

Whenever you see Cerintha she will always give you a hug and be very kind, giving you all of the help that she can give to you.

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Chalista

Chalista was born into a wealthy family many years ago in another world. Another realm, Dragon Realms. Not to long after she was born, her parents left her and she was forced to live and survive on her own. She found her parents, who still forced her to leave, as did also a man - who broke her heart.

She left that world, leaving everything she had behind... her skills, her equipment, everything, but a poor travellers backpack and a shirt.

She wandered forward until she crossed paths with a kinda, handsome man by the name of Zenathos. Zenathos Orsini. She had known him slightly before in the other realm, and had taken a strong liking to him. He asked her into his world, 4 dimensions, and helped her back on her feet. She also got heaps of help from other citizens and friends.
Now Chalista is with Zenathos and loves him dearly. She continues to train hard when she can, because she wants to be strong. Her dream, her wish, something she's always wanted, is a nice house, a car maybe, a husband and children and to be a high and strong level, maybe even immortal one day... And she strives towards those goals every second of her life.

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Cheata

Man of knowledge
Wise one
Idiot
These were some of the names he had been given on his travels, but…
Who was he really?
Where did he come from?
And how did he get here?

Billy, as he was christened, was born in a small village situated in the middle of a place known only as the void, a strange place where the time and space overlapped, a place where nothing is certain, not even the flow of time is smooth there. Small wonder that Billy’s birth certificate said he was born on the 20th of June 1897 AD, and that he was christened 3 days later, on August 5th, 3000 BC.

From a very young age Billy realised that if one could harness the time flow and manipulate it, one could gather vast amounts of knowledge very quickly. So as soon as he could read and write Billy started studying and learning everything he could about the time flow in the void, hard work was rewarded by success. After this success and by his 21st birthday Billy had learnt how to manipulate the time flow and had already learnt what would have taken him 50 years to read from textbooks.

Now at the same time the elders of the village were getting worried because Billy had learnt in a few years what had taken them there whole lives to figure out. But they weren't able to do anything about it until he had come of age. So one year after his 21st birthday the elders got together and started talking. This progressed to arguing, which progressed to all out war, and the centre of there anger was poor Billy, who was cheating them of their wisdom. And because they were so jealous of him, the elders renamed him Cheata and banished him for life from the void.

Doomed to wander the realms without means of learning, Cheata slowly, day by day, got madder and madder, his thoughts became more and more chaotic. Until finally he snapped and his thoughts reached perfect Chaos; then his eyes were opened and he saw before him the largest library of knowledge in all the realms. The place that would be his new home, the Chaos Clan Hall.

Now Cheata roams the realms looking for more things to add to the collection in the library of Chaos, settling the odd argument, creating a little chaos of his own, and searching for a way to get back to his home..... The void

The End

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Cheyyenne

Running Doe is her name, and she is a Cheyenne Indian. She does not know exactly when or where she was born, in fact, neither do her parents; but she was a young woman already when the white men came to America. Most of her immediate family died in the wars with the white men, as many Cheyenne braves did.

For many years she hated the white men, even after she fell into her first time gap. Since then she has spent much time hunting in the woods of pre-whiteman America, and even landing herself back as far as the time of the dinosaurs a few times.

She loves the woods and plains, and hunting the wildlife to stay alive. She also seems to like the medieval times, although she doesn't much care for the expensive dresses and manners of the ladies.

Still, she is kind, and fairly well mannered.

Her early years, of course, were spent with her family roaming about the plains of America. At the time she was born, the Cheyenne depended heavily on buffalo for their survival.

Since she was the eldest daughter of the chief, and he did not have any sons until three years after she was born, he taught her something of hunting... luckily for her, as she found when the white men, and then the time portals, came.

Now, though, since it has been a few years of her time since she left the plains, she has warmed quite a bit to other people, white or not. Her natural beauty lies more within than without, although she is good looking, and she is kind enough that it is hard not to like her.

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Christoph

A sliver of moon broke through the gray clouds as Christof reached the top of the hill. The night wind cut through his battered armor, chilling his overheated body. His limbs ached as they never had before, and cried out for rest. But he had not prayed all day, and would not let his body collapse until he had done so.

The Crusaders of the Order of the Swordbrethren had been on a forced march since dawn, chasing the faster, lighter-armored barbarians. Sir Cuthbert had reluctantly allowed them to stop only when nightfall made further travel impossible.

After pitching their tents, the Crusaders gratefully collapsed onto their straw mats. But Christof did not. He had a need greater than sleep. Friar Bertrand's energetic orations against the barbarians were stirring, but his perfunctory prayers gave little consolation to the eighteen-year-old Crusader. The Savior had decreed that Christians pray alone, in their private chambers, and Christof diligently followed that stricture every day since childhood. But there were no private chambers in the wastelands of Moravia, so the desolate, windswept hilltop would have to suffice.

Christof paused at the peak of the hill and looked down. From his perch he could see the entire Crusader camp etched in cold moonlight. A dozen watch-fires glowed reassuringly around the perimeter, warding off the terrors of the night. Most of the Crusaders slumbered, bone-weary from the day's forced march. Even some of the watch dozed fitfully at their posts. All was quiet, except for a few unarmored serfs who scurried about the camp, hauling sacks of grain, digging a shallow cesspit, and preparing for the morning meal.

For the first time that day, Christof felt safe. He pulled off his heavy, battered helmet and let it clatter to the ground. The cold night air lashed his long, brown hair, which was matted and dripping wet. He rubbed his eyes with a mailed fist, wiping away rust and sweat mingled with the grit of the road. His armor was battered and in need of repair. The white cloth over his
mail hauberk was torn in many places and streaked with dull, brown dried blood. But the crimson cross across the chest was still as bright and proud as the day he first wore it. His limbs ached from weeks of marching. But Christof was not ready to rest.

He drew his broadsword from its scabbard, plunged the tip into the crust of the dry earth, and knelt before it. He pressed his feverish brow into the handle, closed his eyes, and prayed quietly.

"Our Father who art in Heaven…"

But his mind did not stay on the prayer. The tension that had coiled around his warrior's spine slowly melted away. And as the tension ebbed, a flood of memories rose up, unbidden. And unwelcome.

***

In his sixteen years, Christof had never struck a blow in anger. In the little French village of St. Claire, he had raced against, wrestled, and mock-dueled every lad and able-bodied man. He won most of his bouts, and always emerged unscathed, as if protected from on high. Until the day a wild boar had thundered across the village green.

The boar charged the villagers, who scattered before it like geese, jabbering in terror as the boar snorted and slashed. Two watchmen panicked and fled, dropping their hatchets as they ran past slower-moving villagers. Christof easily outran the massive pig, but a scream more piercing than all the others cut through him like a razor. He turned and saw that the boar had
trampled a small child, who lay crying on the green. A white-hot fury ignited in Christof's chest. He stopped, and held his ground as the slower villagers ran past him. In a moment, the village green was empty except for the child, the boar, and Christof.

The massive pig wheeled to survey the damage it had done. It snorted with satisfaction, and lowered its yellowed tusks to charge the screaming child again. Then it noticed Christof, now very alone on the green. It charged in Christof’s direction, testing the lone, impudent creature who did not fly from his wrath. Christof quickly stepped sideways, toward a hut, narrowly
evading the creature. The boar sped past him, and hurtled back around the green. Satisfied that Christof no longer defied him, the boar returned his attention to the squalling child.

Christof grabbed a sharpened tent pole from the hut, and approached the child. The boar snorted with rage, stomped the grass, and charged Christof, determined to punish this act of defiance. Christof crouched low, planted the butt end of the spike in the ground, and braced against it. He faced the beast and lowered the sharpened end toward its onrushing jaws.

The spike snapped like dry kindling as the boar toppled Christof and gored his right shoulder. The beast snarled a blast of hot, foul breath in frustration as it realized that it had charged, openmouthed, right into the tent spike. It stomped its hooves and ripped at Christof's chest, tusks inches from Christof's face. But the spike had torn though the boar's gaping mouth and shattered its neck bone. Its monstrous head glowered with impotent, disbelieving rage as the light slowly faded from its eyes.

The villagers poured into the green, cheering. They hauled the monster off the gasping and bleeding Christof. They village elders held a week-long festival in Christof's honor and for those seven days he was great as King David. "Christof, God hath given thee a great gift of courage," the elders said. "Thou art meant for greater glory than life as a freeman baker or
cobbler! Perhaps thou shalt become the youngest village elder." The vainglory felt sweet, but also embarrassed him. The lasses adored him, and lavished him with honeyed praise. "Christof, thou art the bravest man in Christendom! Blessed is she thou takes to wife!" The lads also admired him. "Christof, thou should'st fight for the glory of God! Go thou! Go far from St. Claire! Join the Crusade, and bring fame to our village!" But Christof barely heard any of them. All he could see was the massive, oppressive face of the beast inches from his face. Angry. Hateful. Fire in its dead eyes.

***

Christof shook his head to dispel the memory, and focused again on his prayer. He was anxious to finish, and eager to sleep. He continued quietly, "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us…"

***

In his seventeen years, Christof had never killed a man. The hot sun beat down on him and a roaring filled his ears, drowning out the angry clash of steel on flesh. Sparks flew before his eyes and his head spun around as the barbarian's axe struck his helmet from the right.

Christof was certain he was dead. He prayed that the Lord would find his soul in the midst of the battlefield wasteland, and blindly gave his sword one final thrust. The pommel rattled painfully in his hand as his blade bit deeply into flesh and struck hard bone. The barbarian collapsed like a straw man at a harvest festival, and lay still.

The ringing in Christof's ears subsided, and his vision slowly cleared. He tugged at his sword, which had pierced the barbarian's heart. But the weapon did not budge. It was caught on the barbarian's rib bone, and would not dislodge. Christof gripped the hilt with both hands and yanked furiously. The barbarian's corpse vaulted upwards, as if rising from the dead. The
shattered chest bones groaned like the hinges of hell, and snapped open as the sword burst free. The broken body crashed back to the earth, shuddered, and lay still. But one hand stuck straight up, as though begging Christof for absolution.

Christof stared down into the dead man's hollow eyes. The piercing black pupils stared back with the same accusing, disbelieving look as the boar.Christof looked away, but knew the sight would never leave him all his days.

***

Again Christof tried to shake off the memory, and focused on his prayer. But he felt ill at ease, and the prayer brought him no comfort. "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from-"

His attention drifted from the prayer, but not to another memory. He opened his eyes, and peered down the hill to the troops slumbering below. The camp was quiet, except for a few serfs finishing their chores. Though they carried heavy packs that weighed as much as a Crusader's arms and armor, they were expected to labor while the troops slept. All seemed well.

Christof was closing his eyes again when he realized that a guard outside Sir Cuthbert’s tent was swaying drunkenly at his post. Christof opened his eyes, and watched as a small serf in a hood and tunic whispered in the ear of the tall guard. The guard fell backward, nearly toppling into Sir Cuthbert's tent. But the short serf effortlessly pulled the large man away from the tent and quietly lowered his body to the ground. Then the serf darted toward the guard at the opening of Sir Cuthbert's tent.

Christof pulled the sword from the ground as he leapt to his feet. He tried to cry out but no sound emerged from his mouth. He charged down the hill as the small serf gently lowered the second guard to the ground. Weary Crusaders glowered at Christof as he stormed past them. Only when the serf disappeared inside Sir Cuthbert's tent did Christof finally find his voice.

"Alarum! Alarum!" he shouted breathlessly, bursting into the tent. The serf was already crouching over Sir Cuthbert, who lay atop his straw palette, dead to the world. Christof sword flashed in the torchlight and crashed down on the serf's head, where it bit deeply, with a satisfying crunch. The skull caved in, and a chunk of bone and gristle flew across the tent. But the serf did not fall. Instead he turned and glowered at Christof with eyes that were black pools of hate. Christof froze. For a moment all was still in the tent as the serf locked eyes on him. Dead eyes. Full of hate.

Then the serf snarled, and clawed at Christof with long, cracked fingernails encrusted with filth. Christof dimly noticed his sword bouncing silently off the hard earth at his feet, and his right arm suddenly felt cold and faraway. The serf paused to wipe his eyes clean of the blood that flowed freely from the gaping head wound Christof had delivered. He crinkled his
ashen face into a wicked leer. His thin dry lips peeled back to reveal long, glistening yellow teeth. The yellowed fangs flashed in the torchlight as he silently lunged toward Christof's unarmored head.

The stillness abruptly shattered with a roar, as shouting men in clanking mail burst into the tent. The serf unlocked his grasp on Christof's arm and pushed him toward the charging Crusaders. Christof stumbled backward, blocking their path. The serf howled a hideous, high-pitched snarl, and turned, shredding the back of the tent with a sweep of his razor-sharp
talons. He bounded through the hole and ran, toppling a Crusader who stood in his path.

Christof found he could suddenly move again, and charged after the serf. He ran headlong through the dark, past groggy troops rising from their deep and troubled sleep. An uproar swept through the camp. Finally, Christof slowed. He peered into the darkness, but to no avail. The creature had vanished into the chill of the night.

Fear replaced exhaustion in the hearts of the Swordbrethren and banished all hope of sleep as word of the blood-mad devil raced from man to man. Two of Sir Cuthbert's officers found the shivering Christof and led him back to Sir Cuthbert's tattered tent, which flapped in the night wind despite the efforts of several serfs to mend it. The tent was now ringed with a barrier
of Cuthbert’s retainers, who muttered angrily to one another, debating the most fitting punishment for the serf- once they caught him. Sir Cuthbert's Steward parted them, and beckoned for Christof to enter. The retainers stepped aside to admit Cuthbert's officers, but they scowled suspiciously at Christof, who appeared undistinguished from any other young, front-line
soldier.

Inside the tent, the white-haired company Empiric was examining a pale Sir Cuthbert, who looked weary, but solid as granite. At length, the old man gruffly announced, "'Tis the will of God that Sir Cuthbert be delivered from the devil's grasp! He is whole."

The Officers roared with relief, and toasted his health. But an impatient Sir Cuthbert pushed past them and strode out of the tent. Outside, the anxious troops erupted in cheers. With an abrupt wave of his hand, Sir Cuthbert cut them off, and the camp fell silent. Sir Cuthbert surveyed his men for a long moment before speaking.

"Saved," he hoarsely bellowed, "by the grace of God!" The troops cheered again, louder.

Christof tried to follow Sir Cuthbert out of the tent, but the Empiric blocked his path. The old man peeled back the blood-soaked mail from Christof's right forearm, and gripped his bicep to stanch the blood flow. He forced Christof to sit on a barrel.

"The demon unleashed a torrent of blood from thy arm," the old man scolded, pouring wine over the jagged claw marks. "Thy very life leaks out upon the uncaring soil!" He gently rinsed grit from the wound and wrapped it tightly in fresh linen. "Disturb not this dressing," he said sternly. When he finished, he retrieved Christof's broadsword from the ground. The old man
scowled as he handed Christof the weapon, saying, "When next thou are inclined to chase the spawn of hell… pray remember to bring thy sword!" And just for a moment, Christof thought he saw a hint of smile on the sour face of the old man who had witnessed so much suffering and death.

Outside the tent, Friar Bertrand intoned, "In the name of our Lord and God Jesus Christ, for his glory and for the exaltation of his holy faith. Amen. The barbarian dogs felt the sting of God's wrath in our swords, and they fear us. They flee our wrath like cowards! They cannot win by honest force of arms, so they have sent a devil to our camp to slay your lord and master, Sir Cuthbert. But the Lord was with us this day, and drove the devil from the sight of righteous men!"

The Crusaders cheered again, louder. As Friar Bertrand continued his litany, Sir Cuthbert stepped back into the tent. He approached his Steward and said, "Give the men an extra tot of brandy tonight, or they will never rest."

"But is that wise?" the Steward asked. "We must rise before dawn! If we should delay further, that barbarian hoard shall surely-"

"We’ve lost those jackals," Sir Cuthbert snapped. "We could wander these hills for weeks and not find their trail. The filthy barbarians wear armor of fur so that they may run like deer and hide like mice. But it will protect them no more than it did the beast they skinned!" He pause, and composed himself. "No. Let the men sleep past sunrise. We've pushed them
hard enough for one week."

"Whither do we go after sunrise?" the Steward asked.

"To the barbarian supply camp here! We shall seek for it here in these Moravian hills. It was doubtless the hoard’s destination. And we are close, by God, or their demon master would never have risked entering our camp, even by night!"

"Yes, my lord!" the Steward replied. "But they will continue to seek thy murder!"

"Aye. My retinue will protect me, if God wills it. Now fetch the men their brandy. Tomorrow we scout these hills. I want the men at full of vigor when we find the barbarian camp."

"It shall be so," the Steward nodded, turning to leave.

Sir Cutbert glanced at Christof.

"Who is this boy?" he snapped at the Steward.

"The very one who smote the demon and drove him from this tent!"

Cuthbert studied Christof a moment, and then motioned him to approach. Christof stepped forward, trying to conceal the trembling in his knees. He had never been this close to the great Crusader before. Christof fumbled as he clumsily sheathed his sword, and knelt.

"What is your name, boy?" asked Sir Cuthbert.

"Christof Romuald, of St. Claire."

"Thou art a brave lad, and true, Christof Romuald of St. Claire. Dost thou love God?"

"Aye, my liege."

"Seek ye salvation of thy sinner's soul?"

"With all my heart, my liege."

"Art thou prepared to die for the Kingdom of God?"

"Aye, my liege."

"No longer shall thou fight upon the line. Thou shalt join my retinue, and smite all who would kill me."

Christof felt light-headed. Almost giddy. "I obey, my liege," he said, breathlessly.

"Thou hast cleft the devil’s skull in twain and lived to boast of it."

Christoff nodded slowly.

"God has smiled upon thee. He spared thee from certain death because He has conceived a higher purpose for thee. Therefore, fear not in battle, but give the devil his due, for thou art blessed!"

"Aye." Christof replied, though he was far from reassured.

Christof slept that night, dragged under by weariness and wine, he was at long last no longer haunted by the dead eyes of the boar, or the dead eyes of the barbarian. Instead, all he could see were the dead eyes of a man with a cracked skull.

Christof slept deeply that night, dragged under by weariness and wine. For the first time, the hateful, hollow eyes of the dead boar and the dead barbarian no longer haunted him. Instead, all he could see were the hateful, living eyes of a dead man, and the eyes of his future.

That was many centuries ago.... no one knows how or why... but Christof lost his way... and his humanity... and has lived many centuries in unlife, as a Kindred. Hiding his true demon self from those not of the underworld, he searches endlessly for an answer to the recapturing of his lost soul... how he fell from the man of God that he once was is a story that shall also be told....

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Chuckslam

I am Chuckslam from the country of Danxily, I don’t speak great English :-).

When I was born there was a great storm over the city that I was born in, the city of "Danxily". My family had been cursed with a Demonic Child curse, they were cold at heart and ruthless. When my family tried to abandon me in the woods of the vampires I was left to die. I met an old looking vampire that I thought would kill me for sure. I was only 15, but instead he took me in and trained me to fight like a vampire. One year passes and I go back to my city, still cursed with hate from my birth. I was still hated - and I still hated.

My ruthless heart told me to murder everyone, and I did so.

Finally I came across my parents. They begged for forgiveness but I would not hear it so I ripped their hearts out and ate them. I ripped everyone in the town apart until I came across a pair of beautiful eyes. I couldn’t bring my self to kill this wonderful creation known as... a woman, I had never seen any other women than my mother.

I was drawn to this wonderful girl, she did not speak for she was in shock of my presence and my actions on these people. From that day forth I realized what I wanted in life, about nine or ten kids.

I didn’t want no wife.

I started with this young girl about the age of me. I seduced her right there. With all the anger I had going through my head it was hard not to kill her, but I resisted.
I thought; if I can resist killing for this pleasure once I can do it again. I continued to do this to every fair girl I saw in my life span even the taking ones I had my way with.

Then I came across the realms of 4d and discovered my destiny.

That being to stay and try to seduce every lady I felt I had a chance with, and kill all the guys in my way. To this day I still do this and have only been rejected 1 time and she knows
who she is... :).

Thank you for reading my story and please remember I’m from a foreign country
and don’t speak good English. ;-).

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Coondason

I was born to a family of elves, 3641 years ago. My father was the leader of our clan, my family's status in the elf's world was the highest, we had servants in every place in the country. My dad was a very skilled and powerful swordsman, that's the reason for our high status. My mother was also an elf and she was a daughter to a mages family, but she never followed the tradition. When she was only 1001 years old, she ran away from her home and married my father.

About 100 years ago, the rival clan of elves kidnapped my mom. My father was devastated, he recruited an army and went after the kidnappers (i was among his army to gain skill). After a bloody fight near their domain, we got into the domain. My father found the prison and my mom's room. When he entered the room he saw my mom hanging dead from the ceiling. He began crying, and while he was crying a rival survival managed to sneak behind him and stabbed him in the back! When I saw my father falling on the ground, I took put my BlueTongue and cut the killer’s ass into small pieces.

Since that day, I swore to regain the family honor and status, that was the day i joined 4 Dimensions. I'm a son of a great warrior and I'll become even Greater!!!

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Cyan

When looking down on a city from high above, say, from an eagle's point of view, it generally looks like an ant's nest. Thousands of tiny black dots milling around looking like they've got nothing especially important to but are nevertheless trying to do something or another. This city is no different. It is a big city situated on the coast with a large harbour. The people are doing their best to make out that their lives are, in fact, important and the jobs they are doing are helping the city in some way.

Apart from one figure. He (if it is a he) is moving with a definate purpose in a definate direction. For some reason he is keeping as much to the shadows as possible and looks like he is trying to avoid getting close other people.

It is a child in his teens. He is a thief. He has no home so he makes a living on the streets, stealing what he needs. In fact he is a very good thief - the best around even - but he is tired of living like he does. Which is why he is leaving. He doesn't know where he will go exactly, just that he wants to leave the city. He has left the city now and is more at ease. The sun is hot and walking is hard but he doesn't care. Back in the city nothing had been easy. There were always people out to get him and if he wasn't on his toes he wouldn't be leaving now. He'd never actually been caught, people seldom noticed when he took something but even the few that had seen and chased him had never been able to keep up for long, he was always quick enough to escape.

The sun is physically burning now and the child is slowing. He won't stop though, even if it kills him. Life holds no more challenges as it is. It is getting towards evening now but his time is up. The child collapses on the side of the road - he couldn't keep moving if he wanted to. The sun is almost set and the moon is directly overhead. The child's eyes are shutting, the last thing he sees when he looks up through half-shut eyelids is the moon - blue from his point of view.

Then he shuts his eye's for the last time...

...then he opens them...

He looks around. Everything looks the same as before, just... distant. Almost as if he were looking at it from far off. The child looks down. He is standing above his own body. He decides he must be dead, but he's not sure what happens now. Nothing seems to be presenting itself to him. So he sits down again.

A moment later he hears a scream and has to scramble out of the way as a strange figure falls through the sky and almost crushes him. It is a man... though not an ordinary one. He is rather short and has uncommonly hairy legs with small hooves where his feet should be. He also has to small horns on the top of his head. A faun. The faun stands up slowly, dusting himself off and grumbling something about finding a better safer form of travel. He glows. Not a normal friendly glow, but a sort of local glow. As if he keeps it all to himself without making anything around him any lighter. "Cyan?" he says, addressing the child sitting in disbelief, "That's you, right?"
"I'm not sure." the child replies, "I could be I guess. Never really had a name before, everyone just called me Kid."

"Yeah well, that's what I've been told so that's what your called from now on, take-it or leave-it... only you have to take-it. Now follow me, we havn't got that much time."

"What? I don't even know who you are! Where am I following you to?"

"Name's Mordecai and it doesn't matter where I'm taking you cause it's gonna be better than hanging around here haunting stuff." With that the one called Mordecai looks around, shrugs and seems to pick a direction at random, then walks off. The one now called Cyan gets up and follows him quickly.
Everything around him seems to be fading but Cyan keeps following the strange faun ahead of him. Eventually they stop and Mordecai turns around and speaks to Cyan.

"Here we are then."

"What?" gasps Cyan, "It's almost pitch black! Where are we?"

"Oh, right. Guess I can tell you that. Ever heard of the 4th Dimension?
Because that's where you're going." Mordecai then gives Cyan a quick pat on the back and walks off.

Cyan looks around him. It's no longer dark and he is standing in front of a huge building. Nothing looks distant anymore, he's made of flesh and blood again.
Cyan grins. I've died and been given another chance in a new world. "Sweet!"

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Dabug

After the brutal attack the barren waste that was once a flourishing small keep is left to decay, the only sound is the chirping of the insects and the sobbing of a small child. Alone and without family or help, the small child begins to imitate the only other survivors of the attack in order to survive himself. He studies and learns the ways of the insects surrounding him. The cold efficient survival skills of his insect friends are his guide and he strives to learn their secrets to become and survive as one of the insects.

Later feral, without human contact, he was found and befriended by a noble Samarian named Gryz. Good and kind Gryz taught the young one, and after a time convinced the youth to come with him and become his squire. Some things in the spirit of Dabug refused to change, leading to an interesting relationship with his benefactor. Dabug can appreciate the good and giving nature of Gryz. B