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The Hand of Darkness
an illustrated tale
page 1

    Garalt slowly walked into the great throne room of Illana Castle. After learning that King Ulmerad and Lord Daravon had recovered from the curse they had been put under weeks before, Alyia, Tundrock, Hillsbrad and Golan had gone ahead, leaving Garalt to see to the comfort of the elves. Garn and Tundrock elected to stay behind and keep the elves company, on the upper levels of the castle, where the airship was docked. 
    Garalt stopped just inside the entrance of the throne room and looked about.  Almost all of Ulmerad's remaining high level soldiers were present.  Near the thrones themselves stood King Ulmerad, debriefing Tundrock, and Alyia and Queen Allamir  hugging each other at his side.  Xanath, the great mage, was even there, standing back from everything.  The dark knight, Lord Daravon, was standing to the side of Ulmerad, looking with much disdain upon the whole scene.
    "Is that you, young Garalt?" Garalt heard the familiar voice of his king call out to him.
    Garalt approached his king slowly and saluted.  Tundrock quickly stepped to the side, and the three Storm Crow knights that had accompanied them took their leave of their superiors.
    "My word lad, you've changed quite a bit, haven't you?" Ulmerad smiled, returning Garalt's salute.
    "Yes Sire, a lot has happened since last we spoke," Garalt said slowly, looking over at Alyia smiling at him.
    "Yes yes, my daughter and Tundrock have filled me in on everything that has happened.  I'm quite impressed with what you've accomplished lad."

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