Chapter 1

"You want us to go... where?" Kieron the Rogue blinked. His two associates also did not bother to hide their disbelief. The Lord who sat opposite them in the darkened corners of the tavern leaned forward. All around them the sounds of the tavern seemed mute and distant. It was typical of the local taverns, a large, central room with a central fire pit and chimney with numerous smaller alcoves dotting the periphery of the main room. Opposite the main entrance was the bar, with a small kitchen behind it. Slaves worked the floor of the tavern bringing drinks and food to the patrons. The only reason for the alcoves in the tavern was for 'discreet' business.

"I have come into possession of a map of the border of the Empire. Just on the other side is an old tomb that was captured during one of the wars a long time ago. In that tomb is the key to defeating the Empire once and for all." His eyes seemed to glow in the dim light.

Kieron knew this was a bad sign. No one violates the Empire's borders with impunity. And no one ever returns.

"I don't buy it." Rolf, the Tracker, spoke. "If this 'key' could defeat the Empire, do you think they would leave it lying about? Especially in a tomb so close to the border?" Rolf looked anxious as the man spoke. There was something wrong, Kieron noticed. Something he wasn't saying.

The man waved aside the questions. "THEY," he announced grandly, "Cannot touch it. The artifact emits a rather pacifying field that affects only women."

Kieron had a hard time believing him. It was common knowledge that for thousands of years the Empire has stood the test of time. Ancient. Inviolate. Forbidden to any male who did not accept the divine sovereignty of the Empress. In the dim echoes of the past the Empire was born, from across the realms, refugees, mainly women and children, made their way across the great mountains and to the passes and valleys therein to the heart of the wilderness at the edge of the Great Inner Sea. It was upon those shores that the first settlements arose. They survived, thrived even, in the harshest of conditions, until the Empire was born in blood and battle. They espoused the divine right of the Female to rule, and woe be to any male who challenged such claims. Thousands more females of every race flocked to the Empire from the Realms in the beginning, and soon the Empire had a population that rivaled the greatest of the Realms.

"Let us," Ambrosis, the Sorcerer, spoke, fidgeting with the folds of his robes. "Accept for the moment that all you say is true. What is in it for us?"

"The eternal gratitude of the King," The man smiled grandly. "And wealth beyond imagining."

Kieron liked the wealth bit. Gratitude was often forgotten once the wine gave out. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was definitely wrong. And the 'King' of Daven was little more than a jumped up Warlord, being the strongest human able to hold lands in what was considered by many a mainly Orc Realm like that of Orgues. Wealth, while good, was lacking in this land. Wealth was counted in the form of how many slaves one owned. Gold was much better in Kieron's opinion, less hassle to deal with and much easier to exchange in other Realms. He glanced at his companions for the moment.

"Please," Kieron said. "Allow me to confer with my associates."

The Lord nodded and stood, pausing to fondle one of the slaves that worked the tavern, then left. Kieron wasn't too fond of slavery, but since it was the practiced norm of this kingdom, who was he to challenge it?

"Well?" Kieron spoke.

"Suicide." Rolf took a big drink. The Ranger wore hardened leather armor that was dyed in greens and browns that allowed him ease of movement in the foliage. His bow leaned against the wall behind him unstrung, and his other weapons remained close at hand.

"Perhaps," Ambrosis replied. "If the tomb is where he says it is we have a chance of getting in and getting out before they notice us." The mage was as flamboyant as Rolf was dour. Brightly colored silks surrounded his frail form, making him almost effeminate in appearance, but it was his keen mind that was his greatest weapon. His skills were great in the arts of Magick.

"You've been sniffing incense too long." Rolf countered. "Correct me if I am wrong, but there are Dragons on the Empire's side, correct?"

"Technically," The mage replied. "We know they have nests in the mountains, and the Empire does nothing to them..."

"What about the consequences?" Kieron asked. "If this Empire shattering weapon exists. Do we want to subject it citizens to the world outside. If you remember your history, the Empire never opened hostilities nor invaded any realm."

"Screw the consequences." Ambrosis sniffed. "I can handle anything that comes our way."

Rolf finished his ale. "Maybe," he groused, waving the empty tankard to gain the attention of a slave.

"What say you then?" Ambrosis pressed. "You said yourself that you didn't want to spend the rest of your life 'sniffing a deer's ass' and leading idiots into foolish ventures into the wilderness."

"Alright," Rolf grabbed the ass of the female slave that served him. She made no movement to remove his hand nor complain. Her eyes were dead.

They both looked at Kieron. "This is a mistake," The young rogue spoke. "But a deal is a deal. One last job." The three men met a year ago when a mutual patron gathered them for a mission to retrieve a statuary from the ruins of a temple just across the border in Orgues. The task required teamwork, a feat the three were not well versed, but after a satisfactory conclusion to the affair, they decided to remain a team for the foreseeable future. It was only recently that Kieron began to have doubts about the two men. Both seemed too willing to mire themselves in the quagmire of indifference, and take jobs that would net them quick payoffs instead of tasks that might further their skills and reputations. Kieron had already gained as much learning he could glean from the two, and his trust in them was wearing thin.

They managed to reach the border undetected after a week of travel from Koruuvaal. Dense swamps and dead trees marked the journey, with the far mountain ranges in the distance dividing the border between the Empire and the Realms. The sun raced across the sky as the mountains grew. The line that delineated between the Empire and the Realms became more distinct with each step, the lush, healthy forest that was nestled against the mountains versus the sickly foliage of the swamp behind them. Night soon fell, and it was quiet, dark, with no moon to illuminate their path. Kieron held up his thief's lantern to check the map they were given. Rolf knelt down amongst the foliage with his bow as Ambrosis simply stood on the path.

"This is a bad idea." Kieron whispered.

"You worry too much." Ambrosis snapped.

"And you worry too little!"

"Are we at the border or not?"

"We are."

Ambrosis strode forward. "Then let's go."

Kieron looked at Rolf, who shrugged then followed. He whispered a silent prayer, then hesitantly followed. Crossing the border felt wrong. Every fiber of his being screamed out against it, but his associates had voted to do this, and as the odd man out in this micro-democracy, he had to go along with it. After all, he gave his word to his friends, and he has never broken it. According to the map, the tomb was about fifty miles from their present position, carved out of the mountain itself and surrounded by a lush forest. It was a nervous march to the tomb through the forests. Travel across the mountains was out of the questions. Dragons frequently made their homes in mountains.

The tomb loomed before them in the mists. The Lord who hired them told them that the tomb was thousands of years old, and contained the artifact that he needed. Just from observation the tomb in question didn't look that old. Kieron took the lead, checking the door for traps then focused on the lock. The door wasn't locked. In fact, it seemed well oiled and made no sound as he opened it. He signaled the others to wait as he stared pasted the threshold. He stepped into the darkness slowly, letting his eyes adjust. The passage led down, into the cool darkness of the tomb. There were no side passages as he penetrated the tomb, no marks or signs of traps or alarms. At the far end of the passage was an arch that led to the goal of the mission. It was a simple room, unadorned with any of the trapping and finery attributed to such an ancient structure. It even lacked the dust and smell of ages. Something was very wrong.

He stepped into the tomb, moving lightly, until he reached the place where the artifact was kept. He worked quickly and quietly, until he managed to open the tomb. There was a rod inside, about a meter long, decorated with mystic runes and symbols. Definitely sorcerous. He held the object in his hands, his mind awash with the implications. The mere existence of such an artifact boded ill for females not only of the Empire, but females everywhere. There were some things in his past that none of his current associate knew about, things that did help the Empire indirectly. Thoughts that he had once forgotten and buried returned, memories of the past that weighted heavily on his heart began to sink their chains in him once again. Not again, he thought to himself. NEVER again. Without a second thought, he shattered the artifact, then turned back to flee the tomb. He thought of a hundred excuses to tell his friends, his mind racing as he reentered the night. He looked around for the others. There was no one there. He raced down the steps, throwing aside his lantern aside as he dove into the forest. Branches slapped him as he wove a zigzag course. In the darkness he saw the border and safety. He never saw the warriors that rose up from the tall grass, only the glint of steel encasing a fist before he saw a flash of light, then stars, then nothing.

Kieron's jaw ached, and his arms were numb. He tried to open his eyes but found only blackness. He panicked. His wrists stung as the ropes bit into them, as the rope around his neck tightened. He relaxed for a moment, and tried to fumble for one of his knives only to find bare flesh. He heard a woman's laugh as he soon discovered he was nude.

The blindfold was removed from his eyes and he blinked in the firelight. He was tied in the center of the Imperial encampment, on display for any of the women who cared to examine him. Never before had he seen so many different races together in one camp. Elves mingling with Dwarfs, Haflings dicing with humans, Gnomes arguing with DragonKin. The apparent leader of the camp was an Elf, dressed in leather and steel, she gave the impression of one who did not like males.

"Well sisters." She announced. "Looks like our little plaything is awake." She grabbed his chin in her gauntleted hand and raised his eyes to hers. With practiced ease she forced his mouth open, felt his teeth, smelt his breath, and looked for any signs of disease or decay. She ran practiced hands over his flanks, checked his legs and feet, and then slapped his ass hard.

"Your 'friends' sold you out." She sneered. "The tracker is already on his way back to your 'civilization' with a hefty purse. The Sorcerer has been rewarded for his presumption." She waved to the crucified form of Ambrosis. He died hard. "You are the true prize of the bunch. It would be amusing to watch your 'friend' try to spend cursed coin in the Realms."

He hung his head down and digested her words. His eyes looked around the camp once more, before he slumped in defeat. She laughed harshly.

"What will happen to me?"

She slapped him for speaking, then again for impertinence, but in the end answered his question. "Why, I am going to ride you back to the capital, then sell your worthless ass." She grabbed his genitals and squeezed. "If you're lucky, you might keep these." Then she strode away.

He was released from his bonds, only to have his wrists and ankles encased in steel and leather cuffs. A heavy collar was locked around his neck, and he felt leather straps fastened around his shoulders and waist. One of the warriors was not unsympathetic, as she allowed his to take a drink of water before strapping the leather bit into his mouth. She leaned forward to lock the strap and whispered into his ear.