Dungeon Siege: The Novel

Greetings, my dungeon siegeing allies. Upon hearing the news of a Dungeon Siege movie, I was overjoyed. But upon realizing its cruel fate, I was enraged, and, out of... madness, I suppose, authored a bit of something, in a fanciful mindset of thinking that this could be the actual movie. Ah well. Here it is. I'll finish it sooner or later.

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As I deeply inhaled, I was met by the rugged aroma of wet dirt, sharp evening air, and valued above all, utter contentment. I glanced to my left fleetingly to see my few chickens loitering about, pecking at the ground and squawking back and forth to each other pessimistically, and looking up slightly, I saw the tall green trees brushing each other fondly in the wind, and naught but absolute calm undercurred my mind. I was... in a wonderful world, one without care, without doubt, without fear, without strife. I was... submerged in an idyllic time. Paradise. If I could have the choice to have never lived these past few months, just to feel that beautiful emotion of undisturbed, subtle joy, I would. It may be the nostalgia talking, but those final halcyon hours are the one thing I'll never have again.

I straightened, my head tilted towards to newly tilled earth to inspect my work. No weeds, no rocks, just fertile soil. Excellent. This would make for a bountiful harvest, and a leisurely year. Something I had been looking forward to for some time.
My meandering thoughts were rippled as I heard a familiar wheezing breath, torn ragged by haste, and in that very moment I felt a massive weight of dread pressed into my stomach. When a man's driven to his final moments of life through dire need, you can hear it in his breath alone.

Dropping my hoe, I spun on my heel to see an old, frail man stumbling across the short bridge over the small stream winding past my house. His aged limbs gave out, and he collapsed, coughing wreckedly and clutching at a bleeding, gaping wound in his chest.

My legs moved of their own accord with unaccounted speed, and I bound forward to his aid. My knees hit the rough wood- had my legs given out?- and I grabbed the man by the torso, propping him against me delicately.

"Norrick..." I rasped.
He convulsed weakly, coughing up blood, and it ran down his chin into his snowy beard. He turned his bleary eyes towards me. "The Krug are attacking!" he said, the words delivered with such heat I was taken aback. "I couldn't hold them back..." he coughed again. "You have long been my friend, GrrMan, but... you can do nothing more for old Norrick. Go to Stonebridge. Find Gyorn. If the Krug have elsewhere betrayed us, your bravery will be needed by the King."
"Norrick..." Not him. Of all people to die before my eyes...
"Go now!" he snapped at me fiercely. He blinked blearily. "Ah, yes... I was to give this to you upon your twenty-first birthday. A shame I'll never see the day."
"Don't say that!" I growled, supported by false hope.
"Silence, child. A man knows when his end is near." He reached down to a belt as rough and aged as he, and drew forth a beautifully forged knife, the hilt inlaid with gold and wrapped his the finest of wires. "Let this guard yours. Now... my soul has no more bounds. Farewell, GrrMan."
He breathed one last, pure breath of the sallow twilight, and with his complexion softened by complete contentedness of the impending night, he closed his eyes and laid his head against my chest.
Norrick was dead.

Laying his still body carefully down against the bridge, I stood shakily and absorbed my surroundings. As my eyes cleared from unshed tears and the clouds lifted from my vision, I looked up to see that my barn was in flames.
Well. That's one way to start your night.

Rushing back to my cabin, I quickly grabbed anything I'd need for my sudden expedition to Stonebridge. All my gold... only thirty coins. That old spell tome Norrick gave me on my twentieth birthday... as if he expected such a catastrophe to befall in the near future.
Bolting out of my house, over the bridge (stopping to pay Norrick his last respects, of course) and finally into the small clearing of my meager cornfields and now ablaze barn, I beheld something I would learn to loathe and utterly despise with every particle of my being: a Krug.

It turned, sensing my presence. I eyed its short, slouching stature, its narrowed bloodshot eyes and startlingly hard muscled body. I had heard that the Krug were an advanced kind of primates, eerily similar to the early humans scholars studied so intently, but when I gazed into those eyes brimming with suspicion, all I saw were the most marginal scrapings of intelligence and pure hatred and wrath towards... me.
It snarled, and lifted it's makeshift torch in attempt to bludgeon me. Sidestepping, I grabbed him by his protruding brow, forced his head backwards, and drove my knife into his throat, twisting it as he flailed his limbs. Ripping the blade from his neck, I kicked the Krug into a duo of barrels nearby. Collapsing in a bloodied heap amongst splintered wood, I bent over the corpse, and inspected it. I was about to rise from my analysis, but a red flicker caught my eye. I reached down, and sifting through the broken wood, I retrieved two sheafs of paper, both inscribed with writing in the archaic language. One glittered with blue sparks, the other glimmered with orange... were these...?

Yes. Spell pages.

Strange. I had never cared for those barrels... had Norrick slipped them inside, knowing I would uncover them? Or did the previous owner of said barrels have some kind of interest in the arcane arts?
At that moment, I didn't have time to ponder. Quickly depositing the two sheets in my tome, I looked up to see three more Krug advancing. One armed with a branch, another with the femur of some unfortunate animal, and the other with a bow (yet using it as though it were a blunt instrument), I wouldn't burst in laughter upon beholding such a comical trio. However, all humor had been scourged from my mind, now that I had been charged with so dire a task.

Glancing at the pages of my tome, I uttered the old words as well as I could, which was rather broken. Despite my ineptness with magic, a slender bolt of blue lightning lanced from my right hand and into the chest of the middlemost Krug. The three exclaimed harshly in surprise, as did I; the surge of raw power through my body and mind was such a shock, yet not an unwelcome one. The idea of how much pure energy would travel throughout my being was a compelling thought. I spoke the words inscribed on the yellowed piece of paper sparking with an orange aura, and a small, fist-sized sphere of flame flew from my open hand into the middlemost Krug. He sputtered, and dropped dead in midstep as his heart and lungs was reduced to ashes. Placing the tome inside my shirt, I rushed forward, cutting the throat of one remaining Krug and stabbing the heart of the other. I bent to take the aforementioned bow and few arrows tucked into a fallen Krug's belt, only to look up and see more Krug approaching.
I must admit, I'm a born fighter and gifted with admirable strength, but I'm only one man. And men have their limits.

Dashing out of the clearing, I sprinted through the trees and underbrush, trying to be as silent as possible as I slowly made my way to Stonebridge.

I passed a number of farmhouses as I slowly crept through the trees. Most had already been ravaged by Krug, and from the piles of bodies piled outside the doors, I didn't so much point to intervene. That is, until I snuck down the short slope and past that familiar pond, to a place I knew ever so well. Norrick's cabin.
I slowly walked towards the house, surveying my surroundings with utmost alertness. It could be a trap... the house seemed almost completely unharmed. But the Krug didn't seem to have the intelligence for traps, let alone fire. But, at this point, anything seemed possible.
Placing my hand on the doorknob, I slowly pushed the door open, to see the cozy fire lit interior. Strange. Not marred at all. Ascending the stairs to complete my analyzation, I came onto the second floor, Norrick's bedroom... and library. I had always marveled at the sheer amount of volumes stacked neatly against the wall, always wondering what it'd be like to have so much knowledge stored snugly in my head. Must be marvelous, I'm sure. In an old awe, I placed my hand upon a volume and slowly walked, letting my hand touch each book. As I did, I could just feel the archaic wisdom stir under my fingers, beckoning my study. I was tempted... so tempted. But Norrick's last request was not to be simply ignored.

As I turned to descend the stairs and continue my little escapade, I noticed something on his table that caught my eye. A small, yellowed sheaf, with little green spheres of light floating serenely over the paper's surface. I walked over to the circular table, and realized... it was another spell. I picked it up, ever so carefully, and inspected the inscribed text. There seemed to be more on this piece of paper than the others, but I couldn't comprehend it at all. I placed it delicately in my spellbook, and took my leave from Norrick's house, after quickly inhaling a loaf of bread just for the sake of a burst of energy.

I felt a slight coldness running through my hair, and I reared my face to the sky to see rain beginning to fall from the blackened heavens. Was this the beginning of the storm? Or... simply... the storm? I never thought much of that cliched phrase, and I really wasn't going to do so now.

Walking carefully now, looking in all directions for Krug, I found myself beholding Edgaar's cabin. He might have been a bit slow and seemingly without any worry in the world, but... hope was a flame that knew no difference between life and death. My pace quickened and I almost tripped over the bloodied and battered Krug on his doorstep. Stepping cautiously into the cabin, a fleeting glance revealed Edgaar sitting on the edge of his bed, hands rough, knuckles sunken, and a recently dulled hatchet lying at his heavy feet.

With a sigh, he lifted his balding head from his chest, and looked at me with a startling dullness. His eyes brightened momentarily as he realized who I was, but then fell back into their aforementioned state.
"GrrMan." Softly said.
"... Edgaar?" I asked hesitantly.
"I never assumed the Krug would take such a violent turn. They were never smart, no, but they wouldn't resort to violence out of boredom or simple sake. There's something abrew, my boy."
He was right. Well, I assumed he was right. "What are you going to-"
"I thought you'd be coming this way. You always had a fiery heart. Did Norrick get to you in time?" Strange. He was so... calm. Content.
"Yes," I said. "But... he's dead." I couldn't put it any other way.
"Ah..." he mused. Depression, like a cloak, weaved itself tighter around him. "But... at least he delivered his message. I stayed here to keep the pursuing Krug at bay. I never thought I had the pluck to do such a thing."
"Circumstance can unbridle our most bound feelings," I stated weakly. How was he so damn calm about this? Did he have no fear? No fear of death?
"When I realized that the Krug were actually attacking us, I tried to get to the safety of my cellar, but they had a little welcome party waiting for me. If you need any supplies for the long trek to Stonebridge, and wouldn't mind clearing out the remaining Krug downstairs, you can help yourself to whatever you need from my stores."
It's as if he had recited what he were to say, the way he issued his words with such... precision. His voice didn't falter at all.
"Ah... I... Thank you," I rasped, turning to leave.
"Wait," he said. He took up a small vial of red liquid that was laying upon his bed, and tossed it to me. Letting it fall into my hands, I observed the clear vial's contents with suspicion.
"Is this-?"
"It's a healing elixir. Never thought I'd have a need of it, but what do you know. Take it, I won't be needing it."
I gave him another thanks, and walked out of the cabin. Circling it, I throw open the doors to the cellar and descended the few steps into its torchlit interior. There wasn't much down here... some grain, wheat, a few barrels of water, some other seeds. But where were the Krug?
I turned to my left to see a large metal grating set into the stone tiles. What was that, I thought? There was a carved brick jutting from the wall adjacent to it as well. Intrigued, I walked over to the grating, and placed my foot upon it. The brick moved slightly.
I reached over and placed my hand firmly against the brick, and pushed; to my horror and awe, the grating fell away and I found myself descending into darkness.