Author name: admin

What a journey it’s been!! The reign of Lord Dreck has been nothing but horrific. Now he’s been killed. Finally! Time to bring this story to an end… “Lord Dreck and his minions are dead. Mandeland is free.” As the first rays of the morning sun began to creep over the horizon, casting a warm

That laughter. That evil, sadistic laughter. Billa and Diyaka doubted they would ever experience a moment as hair-raising as that. Having Lord Dreck watch them directly, with that evil laughter. “Well, well, well! Look what we have here! Three for the price of one! Goodness, my thirst for blood came at the right time! This

The hours had stretched on like an eternity for Billa and Diyaka as they anxiously sat in the living room of their humble cottage, waiting for Soayi. The night had come for them to join Soayi on his quest to defeat Lord Dreck. They had spent the past couple of days and restless nights preparing

Billa and Diyaka froze. Stunned by what they had just heard. They exchanged bewildered glances, then turned to Soayi. “W-w-w-what?” Diyaka stammered. Billa’s jaw hung. What crazy kind of plot twist was this? An elder of Lord Dreck actually wanted to help them??!! Soayi nodded, the expression on his face slowly turning tender. “I tell

The streets of Mandeland were cloaked in a melancholic dusk, the sun sinking below the horizon as Soayi walked alone through the cobblestone streets. His hooded robe concealed his face in darkness, but his heavy heart was a burden he could not hide. As he strolled through the quiet town, the memories of his late

“Oh! E-E-Elder Soayi!” the bandit on his feet stammered, hurriedly bowing to greet their elder. “W-w-we didn’t expect you back so soon.” Soayi raised an eyebrow in surprise. “What do you mean?” he asked. “It’s almost midnight. I should be in by now, no?” The bandit went mute. Soayi, giving him a strange look, shook

Morning had arrived, and the palace of Mandeland was busy as always, with the evil lord’s bandits readying themselves for another busy day. The elders had advised them to briefly pause their chaos agenda and switch back to patrolling the streets, just to mess with the minds of the people. Even though they had not

Evening had arrived. In a dimly lit, underground hideout somewhere in the village, a group of men sat around a makeshift table.  The flickering candlelight cast deep shadows on their faces, each one bearing the weight of loss and vengeance. These were villagers of Mandeland. A diverse group, made up of farmers, craftsmen, former guards