Chapter 1

An energy blast screamed through the castle hall, nearly taking Abbadon's head off as he valiantly battled the orc minions of the sorceress that was periodically sending spells his way.

To her this battle was just another in a long line of fights against knights who were hoping to make a name for themselves that they carved out of her hide. In over twelve hundred years she had faced thousands of such knights and defeated them all but this one was doing better than the others, he fought with an inner strength that seemed to keep him from dieing or from fleeing in terror.

Abbadon was a Knight of the Blade, one of the lowest ranked knights in the Order to be precise and doomed to advance no farther because of his mixed heritage. Born of human and half-breed blood he was allowed to join the order but he would never gain the rank of paladin which he had hoped all his life as a slave before being freed by a paladin.

Grunting with the effort of parrying the blow from the orc he stumbled backward nearly falling over, which saved his life as another magical attack slammed into the monstrous orc who had been about to strike as he was nearly defenseless. Seeing that there were no other minions present who were still alive he dived behind a nearby pillar to catch his breath.

Cautiously he peered around the pillar to see what the sorceress was doing. He saw that she was moving her arms in an arcane circle, chanting to one of the demonic gods that were prevalent throughout the sword coast. Magical power screamed through the room and gathered around her body and he knew exactly what he had to do. Gathering his strength he charged from around the pillar and ran as fast as he could straight at her.

The evil flicker of a smile that crossed her face told him that he was probably already too late to deliver the fatal strike to stop the spell from finishing but he had to try. Raising his sword he brought it down in an overhead blow that cleaved her skull like a melon, her body dropped to the floor convulsing in the spasms of death. Unfortunately that did not stop the buildup of power throughout the room. Streaks of black and red lightening flashed throughout the room cascading across the ceiling to strike the bodies of the dead minions that were strewn throughout the cathedral sized room. With each flash of lightening a body was destroyed leaving behind the minion's weapons, armor, and whatever else the person had had with them at the time of their death.

Looking around the room in despair Abbadon tried to find a way out without running the gauntlet of demonic energy but he couldn't see any obvious way. Muttering a curse under his breath he called upon the spirit of Tyr patron god of the Order. Hoping that his prayer for help would be heard he continued the chant even as the first lightening strike impacted against his shield. For a moment his heart stopped thinking that he was about to be blasted into some infernal hell dimension but the blast ricocheted off his shield and rejoined the growing energy storm in the room. Hope flared to life in him that maybe just maybe he would survive this day but it dimmed as he saw the storm's energy fly directly at him with all its strength. His mouth opened in a silent scream of unbelievable agony as the demonic energy streaked across his body before he vanished from the world of Toril, never to be seen in the land again.

When he came to he was surprised to find himself still alive. With the power displayed by that evil sorceress he should have been killed instantly by that spell but here he was. Quickly running his hands across his body he checked to make sure that he was still intact and that all his possessions were with him. After confirming that everything was were it was supposed to be he looked around trying to figure out where he was, in all directions that he looked he saw naught but endless trees.

Standing he gazed in different directions hoping for a sign or anything to tell him in which direction lay home or even an exit from the forest so he could get his bearings. As he turned he noticed a small pool of water that had been behind him, the water in the pool was the clearest that he had ever seen in a forest. Bending down he cupped his hands in the water to take a sip and it felt like he was drinking from the fountain at the Temple of Selune in the town of Athkatla where the water was said to be purified by the Goddess herself it was so pure.

Since he had no idea of which direction lead out of the forest and there were no points of reference he decided to start walking. Before he got but five steps he noticed a pile of equipment under one massive oak tree. All the belongings of the sorceress's orc minions were haphazardly lying in a pile. Abbadon decided that since it was unlikely that he would find a town or village anytime soon that it would probably be a good idea to go through the pile of equipment and see if he could find anything useful.

After taking everything that seemed of value and use he set off in a random direction carefully listening and looking for anything that would give him a guide out of this forest. For hours he marched in a single direction, not changing his heading for fear of wandering in circles. Growing tired as his endless trek through the woods revealed nothing but even more woods dotted with areas filled with tiny pools of water he was near the ends of his resolve. Collapsing to the ground he began to wonder if this was some sort of test or even a punishment by one of the demonic gods.

'Come.'

Abbadon whipped his head around, looking fervently for whoever had said that. Seeing no one in the area he stood and yelled. "Who's out there? Answer me!" His booming voice echoed through the endless woods. After a few moments of silence following the ending of his voice's echo he began to wonder if he had hallucinated the other voice.

'Come.'

He spun around trying to find the source of the voice. He knew that he had heard it that time but no matter where he looked he could not see anyone.

As he was about to take a step in the direction that he had walked from, intending to re-trace his steps back to find out how he came to be in this weird forest he felt a mental prodding. It was prodding him to walk deeper into the woods away from where he arrived. "Meh, what the hell. Can't get anymore lost than I am already." With that Abbadon started to move in the direction that the mental prod was coming from.

The mental prodding seemed to get more forceful and insistent the farther he walked, almost as if he was getting closer to wherever it was trying to lead him. Thinking that it could be a trap he unsheathed one of his swords, ready to defend himself from any manner of beast or creature that dared to attack him. Cautiously moving forward the undergrowth seemed to have built up in this area so it was hard to see what was in front of him, moving the shrubs aside he came into a clearing that was surrounded by twelve massive oak trees that towered into the heavens. In the center of the clearing was a small pool of water just like the others that he had passed on his march through the woods.

Walking forward he stopped at the edge of the pool. It was most puzzling, why would there be so many pools of water spread throughout the forest. If it rained this much to leave behind so much water then shouldn't the land be flooded completely and not just in these small tiny areas.

'Enter the pool.'

Once again that mysterious voice spoke to him. Abbadon stood on the edge of the pool gazing into it seeing his reflection staring back up at him. This voice, whoever it was, wanted him to step into the water and then what? Was he to drown or was there some deeper meaning to the water, would it take him to whoever was directing him through the woods.

Stretching out his sword he carefully dipped the blade of his sword into the pool, ready to retract it at the slightest hint of trouble; he waited for something to happen. The only thing that did occur was the ripples that appeared in the water as his blade broke the surface of the pool. Seeing as he had nothing else to go on and there seemed to be no danger in following the voice he slowly entered the pool until the water reached his waist.

Standing there as the water flowed around him he wondered how long he was supposed to remain in the water freezing his ass off when all of a sudden something grabbed onto his legs and sucked him under. Flailing about he tried to reach the surface, to break the hold that whatever creature was attacking him had on his legs. He swung his sword in the general direction of where he assumed the attack was coming from but the blade passed effortlessly through the water without touching anything. It was like there was nothing there. As he struggled harder to break the hold he felt himself growing weaker as he body succumbed to the weakness brought upon him by the lack of air. Just when he felt that he could no longer take it and he would pass out he was thrown from the water to crash back onto dry land.

Panting with the exertion of filling his lungs with the air they craved he crawled away for where he had landed thinking that he might still be under attack by whatever had grabbed him. Abbadon moved with great haste as he scrambled to his feet unhooking his shield from his back he once again grabbed up his sword ready to defend himself. But as he searched the area, which was radically different than the woods that he had just been in, he found himself once more alone only now he was soaked head to toe from his little adventure in the pool of water. The land as far as he could see was covered in snow and ice, nothing besides trees that looked half dead grew out of the snow. It was a desolate place that he found himself in and the very air felt impure as if there were poisons flowing through it.

Knowing that he wouldn't last long standing about in the middle of the forest in his damp clothing he began to walk in the general direction of the mountains that he could see in the distance. Abbadon never noticed as he walked that he passed not twenty feet from a clearing where a lamppost sat, of a design that he wouldn't have recognized as it resembled nothing he had ever seen before, with its candles growing brightly. For the first time in nearly a hundred years the lamppost's candles were lit and growing brighter with every step as a Knight of the Blade walked the realm of Narnia, a herald of things to come.

As he walked his mind began to wander wondering whatever had happened to his faithful horse Shadow who he had left tied to a tree near the sorceress's castle. Abbadon sent a quick prayer to Tyr that someone would find Shadow and care for him and that he not be left to rot near the decaying ruins of the evil castle.

His moment of solitude was shattered when he heard the sound of hoof's striding over the snow. Thinking to himself that some unknown rider was moving this way he quickly hid himself amongst the sparse cover afforded by the trees. Abbadon had no knowledge of the land he was in or the laws which governed it, for all he knew his half-breed heritage could mark him for death or worse. Better to hide and be safe than to be caught out in the open with no where to run.

He could hear the sounds of the horse getting closer so he knew that whoever was out there would come into view within a few seconds. Preparing for the worst he carefully drew his sword and settled his shield comfortably onto his left forearm. All of his preparations came to an end when to his surprise he saw Shadow, his faithful horse, come through an opening in the trees. Looking around to make sure there was no one else in the vicinity he walked over to where his horse stood waiting for its master.

"Aww, Shadow how did you come to be in this infernal wasteland?" Abbadon said as he checked the horse over for any injuries that needed tending. Finding none he ruffled through the saddle bags that were still miraculously attached to the saddle, completely intact and with all their original contents, he brought out a fresh apple for his horse.

While Shadow happily chewed the apple, Abbadon was fast at work moving the items that he had ransacked from the pile of orcish equipment in the mysterious forest that he had been in into the saddle bags. Once everything was safely tucked away and balanced out he mounted Shadow and rode through the woods still heading in the general direction of the mountains.

As he rode through the woods, the wind biting deeply into him making him freeze all the more quickly thanks to his still soaked clothing, he wondered how Shadow came to be in this realm. Maybe Tyr or one of the other gods had sent him to aid him for whatever reason they had. Though trying to determine what exactly the gods had in mind for him was nigh on impossible and it was not his place as a mere mortal to question the god's reasons for sending him here.

As he got closer to the mountains he was able see more of them, they towered into the heavens so far above that the actual peaks of the mountains were lost in the low lying clouds. Even as a child he had been impressed by the mere sight of the towering titans of rock and stone that had surrounded his village. They seemed as guardians that had kept all the evil and demons out, though that fantasy had been utterly destroyed when his village had been overrun and his people enslaved. Abbadon being of mixed heritage had been lower than all other slaves and punished accordingly, without the kind gestures given to him by his fellow slaves it was extremely unlikely that he would have survived all those years as a slave laborer.

Shaking his head Abbadon banished thoughts of his time as a slave to the furthest reaches of his mind. Those days were long since over and it did nothing to help him by dwelling on the past. As he rode he noticed that there didn't seem to be any real passage through the mountains and they seemed to stretch for such a distance that they faded into the horizon in either direction. Deciding to head east he altered direction and began to ride a little faster. The sun had begun to rise farther into the sky and its warmth had heated him to the point where his clothes were beginning to dry enough to give him so relief from the cold.

For nearly a week he rode eastward, always on the lookout for any sign of civilization or any other travelers who could point him in the direction of the nearest city or village, but to his dismay he found none. Endless woods covered in snow were all that he saw save for a few frozen lakes that he passed. He was starting to become a little concerned about his food supply situation as he rode, in a few days if it didn't improve he was going to have to either start rationing or let Shadow go free to make his own way in this desolate wasteland.

Up ahead he could see the forest becoming thinner and the trees seemed to end. Spurned on by the idea that maybe he had found an area that had been cleared by civilization he urged Shadow to move faster. As they moved closer to the edge of the forest Abbadon could see what appeared to be buildings and even a castle wall that dominated the skyline. It took him nearly twenty minutes of hard riding to approach the walled city, but he grew disheartened to see no signs of smoke or watch fires anywhere at all along the approaches to the great castle. Hoping to find some sign of where the citizens of this great fortress might have gone he decided to enter and explore, if nothing else he might find food or other items that could come in handy.