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'Lo people. My second story here of Yiffstar, although the first I wrote doesn't really count (it sucks). This will hopefully turn into a fantasy epic, with perhaps half of everything stolen from various authors. Or at least heavily inspired. To do some name-dropping concerning this first chapter I would say Terry Goodkind, Ed Greenwood, Niklas Krogh, Robert Jordan and R.A. Salvatore. As I write new chapters I will list new authors that have inspired me, and don't worry, if you like this short-story I have a whole novel thought out in my head.

The warnings; Well, this first chapter is actually quite harmless, with death as the only 'adult' theme, all the yiffiness will come later.

All of the characters are of course the property of me, Greatdane, but stealing them will do none any good, because they are so heavily inspired by other characters in other fantasy worlds, and I have invented none of the names, except for Kanarn.

The Saldean War

The wind rustled over the rooftops of the greatest city in Kanarn, perhaps in all the Midlands. From the huts and sheds of the outer slums to the bronze roofs of the Centrals, the residence of the rich and powerful. In one of these houses, a mansion really, a clandestine meeting was taking place. Lord Byron, who sat in the high council of nobles, and his wife, the seductively beautiful Lady Sha was meeting a number of nobles. They were all walking around or sitting in a spacious room with numerous divas and comfortable chairs. Oddly enough, the servants had been sent outside, and the doors leading to the room had been barred, the nobles wanted privacy.

"My love, I believe that all have arrived," said the Lady, nuzzling her feline nuzzle against Lord Byron's equally feline chin. The last arrival, an old, but well groomed panther in robes, had just materialized himself, and was walking slowly from guest to shocked guest introducing himself.

"Aye, my dear, with the arrival of master Kyzul we are complete." Lord Byron raised his right hand and made a shooing gesture, purple notes of light streamed from his paw and struck each of the three doors that led to the room. As the notes hit the doors they exploded in small flashes of purple and gold.

"My guests!" Boomed his voice, "We are all here. You all know each other, more or less, from court, and have been given some time too learn each others acquaintance. There is no need for small talk; our king is old and weak, his wife is barren and their only child is a girl who shows no interest in the throne. She is much more devoted to her academic studies." His voice had gained a scornful tone, and several of the other men assembled in the room nodded in disgust. Women were not supposed to learn the academic skills, not in the minds of these nobles, at least.

"We have been encroached upon by the nations that surround us, most notably the merchant states to the south, because of our king's incompetence." The nobles nodded in assent, although not all felt like that inside; as alway, things were a little more complicated than they seemed.

"But most horribly of all; The barbaric state of Saldea has grown in power, which should never have been allowed since we broke them in the Blood War two hundred years ago!" At this all the nobles nodded eagerly, especially those who had lost trade interests because the Saldeans had chosen to go other where in their trade since their military had become strong enough for them to defy Kanarn.

"Our king wants 'peace and prosperity for all', that dolt! His weakness has caused our country to loose the asset that once made us as great an economic power as the Emirates in the south.But I say differently. I say we take the throne and lunch an immediate attack on Saldea. Plans have been made for the king's death and for the soon coming occupation of Saldea. All of you are gathered here to witness the death of the king and the ascension of a new one, me." His jade-green eyes walked over the gathered nobles. All had, at one point or another, agreed to support his ascension, so none were surprised.

The old wizard, Kyzul, had eagerly been rubbing his grey-black paws against each other, now he stepped forward. He motioned people to clear space in the back of the room, then held up his hands to stop the muttering that had begun with the end of lord Byron's speech. All were silent.

He began to mumble and waved his hands in two identical circular patterns. A cirkce of blackness materialized on the back wall, it expanded and ended up being a six feet tall, eight feet wide oval. Now colours could be seen, and soon everyone could see what was going on; a short, wiry man was carefully making his way through a narrow corridor.

The secret corridors of Castle Okardeen were damp and dark. The assassin's feet were making slightly muffled sounds, occasionally interrupted by a splash as his boots hit a puddle of water. He was clad in well-made clothes that seemed to change colour depending on where he was, so right now they were a mix of brown and black. A mask of black steel mesh covered his lower face, and a black hood, made of the same material as his clothes, had been thrown over his head, so the only visible feature were his eyes, ice-blue. Two swords hung scabbarded across his back, crossing each other so their handles stuck up on opposite sides over his shoulders. The clothes he was wearing were loose, but tight enough so an observer could note his strong build. He wasn't big or buff, simply in perfect physical shape. To watch him was to see the stride of a cheeta, strong and smooth.

He came to a turn and slowed his already slow walk down. He peeked around the corner, and when he noted that none were there, he continued. Occasianally there were a hollowing in the wall, this was where the doors leading to the different rooms in the castle were. He counted eight doors, and when he came to the ninth he stopped. He neared the portal slowly, noted the light-filled cracks and brought his eyes to one of them. Inside he could see the main royal chamber. The whole family was assembled.

Good, that makes my work much easier, thought the assassin.

They were sitting at a round table and eating their dinner, which seemed to consist of some kind of soup, the smell was wonderful, a combination of basil and sheep. The old king, a once-powerful tiger, with a thick beard that grew all the way down to his chest, was sitting closest to the assassin. The Queen, a still beautiful tigress, was sitting on his right side, and their daughter, Felicia, was sitting to his left. Felicia was picking aimlessly at her bowl of soup, while her father was lecturing her.

"Listen, my dear, You need to step forward and take up the reins when I pass away. It is not unheard of in Kanarn to have a queen ruling, and as You are our only child we need You." The king spoke with his most imploring voice, the most reasonable voice he had, but to no avail.

"No father, I won't! I don't care about the people, the circus of the court nauseates me and those filthy old nobles are always leering at me and asking me when I will marry. As if that's their business!" Yelled Felicia. The assassin could hear that this was not their first argument of that kind. This is why I have to kill you, foolish one, he thought.

On his side of the hidden door there was a square plate on the right side of the door. He put his hand on it and whispered a couple of words that had taken the old wizard Kyzul months to uncover. The door opened.

He was running before anyone had a chance to react, he unsheathed his swords, both glew with a malicious blackness, as he was running. At this point the only one who had noticed him was the princess, she gasped and put her hands in front of her mouth, the king was about to ask her what was wrong as one of the two blades exploded through his chest, shining with his blood. The assassin pulled out the blade and made a double cut that took the king's head clean off. The princess screamed and tried to get away so fast that her chair fell backwards, with her in it. Her head hit the floor with a solid thunk! and she passed out.

The queen, however, was not so easily scared. Her eyes misty with sorrow and at the same time glinting with rage focused on her husband's murderer and she spoke three clipped words and pointed at him, three glowing darts of pure force made their way towards him, but before they hit him they simply faded out of existence. The assassin quick-stepped forward, jumped up on the table, and cut through her throat with a well-placed slash. She fell in over the table, making gurgling sounds as her life-blood poured out of her.

Meanwhile

In the courtyard of Castle Okardeen, the court-wizard Erivagar was watching the exercises of the newly-formed corps of royal wizards. Most were apprentices, few were able to cast a fireball, but he could sense stability and strength in each and every one of them. He could see five wizards-to-be combine their forces and throw a lightning bolt that ripped through the targets, conjured balls of colour, with devastating ease. Erivagar was not even sure that he himself could have been able to cast such a powerful bolt. Then he felt a sudden pain bloom in his chest, a split-second afterwards he felt a detached feeling in his head.

The king is dead, the gods preserve us, he's dead!

The magical bond he had to the king enabled him to localize the remains of the king. Without a word he dissapeared, only to reappear a second later in the private royal chamber. He was shocked, both the king and queen were dead, and a killer clad in colour-changing clothes was quickly nearing the princess, blades bared. Erivagar throw the most powerful spell he knew, and a green ray of oblivion hit the assassin squarly in the back. However, the black clothes, and several rings and amulets he hadn't seen yet absorbed the ray. The clothes were burned cleanly off, and several of the amulets melted in puddles of metal. The assassin spun around in surprise, noticed the wizard and grinned evily. Erivagar snapped his left fingers and a black rod made of wood materialized in his hand. He pointed it at the now-charging assassin and let loose a bolt of fire, it was absorbed by the twin blades the assassin was carrying, then he uttered the command word Karoma! And a powerful gust of wind hit the assassin and threw him backwards, he hit the wall, fifteen feet behind him, with a bone-crunching crash. The assassin slid limply down the wall.

The old mage ran to the still-unconcious princess, knelt down and noted, to his relief, that she still was alive.

Then he heard a gruesome laughter behind him, he snapped his right finger, and a five feet tall staff made from red polished wood came to be in his hand. He turned around.

"Greetings, Erivagar. I had hoped that Leevoth here," the newcomer, Kyzul, nodded at the still form of the assassin, whose face now could be seen and identified him as a white tiger, "could have finished the job, but I forgot about the bond you had placed on the king. You two were quite close once, weren't you?" asked Kyzul.

"It must hurt you greatly to know that your one-time lover is dead, but such is life." Kyzul pointed at Erivagar. "It will make my day much easier if you could accept your fate, and let me kill you and the girl."

This, above all, shook Erivagar out of the stunned condition he had been in. He knew Kyzul would never have attacked so boldly unless he had a good plan ready Also, Erivagar was not at all ready for a battle of spells. Instead of attacking, which Kyzul obviously expected, he knelt down, took hold of the princess' hand and teleported them out of the castle.

Back in the room, with two dead royals, Kyzul was laughing, at that moment the guards that he and the alliance of nobles had bribed were busily killing the few they hadn't. In the courtyard, several scores of crossbowmen, and mercenary wizards brought down those wizards who refused to bow down to the new rulers of Kanarn, the Lord Byron, known now as King Byron, and his court-wizard, Lord Kyzul. Dark days were coming to the land of Kanarn, and to its neighbor, Saldea.