Power Awakens

Just over thirty-five leagues south of the Gateway, Javelin crested the last hill before the border with Necro’s. As foretold by the Elders, thirty thousand Necro Warriors had massed on the border and had quickly defeated the two hundred strong border guard. Somehow, they had managed to kill the beacon guardians before they could light the warning beacons.

It had been a long time since the last mass incursion, and Javelin had been a young officer then, newly promoted to Section Leader. Now he was Generali One, and he had many responsibilities, not least of which was keeping his Nation alive. Trained since the age of five, Javelin had been pushing himself to be the ultimate Warrior for nearly thirty five years. He had reached Master status over a decade before, and was renowned as being the youngest in recent history to reach this status. He had mastered all weapon types and was generally considered to be the best strategist of the age. Javelin had, like all the Warriors in his Secular, been training twelve hours each day to keep him honed and ready for just this type of conflict.

Javelin, as far as he was concerned, had been lucky enough to be on Patrol in this region when the messenger had found him. He was happy that once again he could test his martial skills in a non-friendly environment. Mock battles and fights were one thing, real life combat something else.

Honoured throughout the realm, all Hayven Warriors knew that one day they would give their life for the lives of everyone else in the Nation. This they accepted with honour and some even seemed to revel in it, but only in the combat, not in the killing. Even the warriors of Hayven abhorred the taking of life. What all Hayven inhabitants valued above all was the preservation of life and achievement of oneness with nature. There were many routes to achieving the state of Koan and ultimately Satori, but the warrior caste of Hayven had chosen to use the purity of the Arts Martial to achieve this mind state, using their Kata and weapons as a means to express and focus their life-energy. The Hayven race was also very practical and as the only unconquered nation on the planet of Xanom, they realized that the Arts Martial was something to be encouraged in the populace. As with everything that the Hayven inhabitants did, the Arts Martial was quickly taken to new heights and those chosen for the Latent Talent of Rudjow were deeply honoured throughout the realm. Genetically hardened over the millennia by the harsh conditions and unforgiving environment they lived in, only the strongest and hardiest survived in Hayven, except for those few that were chosen to live with the Elders. The Hayven Warriors tended to be at least six and a half foot tall, with thick blonde hair and thickset muscles.

Many refugees supplemented the Hayven population, these poor individuals risked everything to enter Hayven in the hope of finding safety away from the oppression and terror of the Necro’s. Many of these died in the harsh living conditions of Hayven, even though the rest of the Hayven culture provided them with as much care and attention as possible. With sub-zero temperatures, many large dangerous natural predators, and a bleak cold desert terrain, it was difficult for a nation to survive, but survive they did.

Some of the refugees did survive and even flourished in the new conditions. Those that did, seemed to bolster the genetic pool rather than weaken it, and Javelin, like many of his brothers, was the offspring of one of these mixed relationships, where the refugee flourished in the difficult environment. For some unknown reason, the Hayven heritage in any mixed relationship was always the dominant feature, it didn’t matter if the Hayven part of the relationship was male or female, but the Hayven genetic features always appeared as the dominant gene. Sometimes, a tougher or faster or more intelligent offspring was the result of such a joining, and this was regarded again with great honour and prestige across the Nation.

Javelin, whose mother was pure blood Hayven and whose father was a black giant of a man from the equator of Xanom, retained all the features of the usual Hayven inhabitants, but had an increased musculature and height which singled him out as mixed heritage. This was greatly honoured in the warriors, as it appeared to be an improvement to the already hardy Hayven genetic pool. At just over seven feet tall and three foot wide at the shoulder, Javelin was a very impressive figure that had enormous presence and a very strong aura.

With ten thousand elite Hayven warriors behind him, Javelin turned to address his men with a powerful, firm and resonant voice.

“Each of you have been chosen for this task and have trained for this task for many years. You are the elite of the Hayven armies, you are first to battle, first to kill, and …. Aye… .First to die. We are privileged to be charged with the defence of our people, and I for one will be privileged to die for this defence. But not today men, The Necro’s have sent one of their puny Legions against us, a mere thirty thousand Necro’s against a full Hayven Secular. If it weren’t for the fact that we will take life in this battle, I would almost enjoy the extra training these Necro’s will give us. They are no match for us this day, but we need to be careful. They are deceitful and sneaky and they always have some treacherous surprise for us.” Javelin smiled, out of place on this giant of a man and continued. “Do not take joy in the killing, but honour your art and perform your finest Kata today. Some of you will not be coming home, but take the joy in the passing, as you will die in battle and no greater honour could be granted than to die in battle protecting your loved ones.” Javelin paused for breath “We will stop for a few moments before we engage the enemy. Take this time to prepare, surround yourself with Koan and feel the oneness. May your weapons be true and your hearts be light. For Hayven” shouted Javelin.

Ten thousand throats roared the reply “Hayven, Hayven, Hayven”