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_ THE KNOWN LANDS OF EDGESEA _ _**Legends of Grimmwood : The Hunter And The Rift A Faerie Tale Of Epic Proportions By Kire-Kitsune

Prologue One: A Faerie's Tale As Told By A Fox... _ Before we begin in earnest, friends, let me first explain the nature of the tale that lies bare before you. What is described here could best be seen as the memoirs of three things: A Hunter, a Prince and a Fox. These three things are one, you see, as they are me. I am Deschain of the Beo Woods, the teller of this tale and it's protagonist. As such, realize that the man before you is no more a sapien than you, gentle anthro. I may wear the guise of man, but I maintain the form of my vulpine ancestors. The events that follow span many centuries and many guises, for the vast lands and seas of EdgeSea have a long memory and short patience for those that remain the same in the face of great change. As is the way of things when the ocean's drink from the sides of the mighty stone; wearing away even the unmoving stubbornness of the earth with each calm, swift lap.

Time waits for nothing and no one, not even the earth. And mind you and me, great change is on the horizon for this land of Grimmwood, as has always and will always be the case. My being heralds this change many centuries in advance, and as with all great tales, before we begin we must glimpse the end. May this simple Faerie Tale entertain and inform you of deeper truth, for we all follow similar but dissimilar paths. Enjoy, friends, and take heed; This land of EdgeSea may signal similar change for you and your own lands, wherever and whenever they may be. Much love, my fellows.

-Deschain of the Beo Woods**

_ Prologue Two: Sometime In The Future... _

The alleys of Birkshire are notorious for their shady nature and mirrored principles in regards to the rest of, what is widely considered to be "wholesome" properties of the rest of the city. I wandered their labyrinthine corridors in search of a creature well suited to their notoriety. I am a Hunter. And my quarry, as of this moment, is a Werewolf. Werewolves, you see, are tricky blighters. The older ones, anyway. The young ones have a tendency to give themselves away through either violent behavior or other suspicious behavior. The old ones, however, can be quite tricky. They are well accustomed to hiding and covering up their kills. I am hunting a veteran. The walls around me are old brick and mortar houses, from within they brim with heat, company, laughter and good food. From outside, however, underneath the smoggy sky born of industry, they are as cold as a crypt. Devoid of life, echoing the sad fates of those who themselves reflect the dead sky; the homeless and poverty stricken.

At the end of the alley lies a T-shaped thoroughfare, lined with shacks and bedrolls, blankets held up by decrepit wooden stocks. My footsteps sank in the well traveled snow, the infinite winter of the Northern Region made further realized as the snow began to fall from the gray skies, coating my dark cloak and exposed tail in white crystals. I tipped the brim of my hat downward, stepping up to the closest shack. It's opening was sheltered by a wool cover, snoring could be heard from within. I let my gloved hand to my utility belt, knocking on the lantern that lay at my side. From within, a small voice sounded. Lilting yet shrill; a bell's ringing. "Are we there, Deschain?" I tapped twice, in confirmation, upon the lantern. A small ringing chimed forth, as light brimmed out from my cloak. " I am ready when you are. Please try not to get into a fight if you can help it. The Birkshire Protectorate hate you enough as is without chasing Lychanthropic beasties through the thoroughfare." I chuckled softly, offering my half-hearted promises; " I will attempt to reason as per usual," I smirked, " However, if you will recall, Lychanthropic beasties, as you so eloquently put it, are not the most receptive to reasoning from a cloaked man carrying a silver dagger and a large Winchester lever-action rifle adorned with silver ammunition." "As always, the fetishistic recounting of your armory is more than a little disturbing and makes me concerned for your mental health."She looked at me with a wry smile. Little smart ass. I looked back, chuckling. "As a professional, I should take pride in the tools of my trade, no?" She sighed, shaking her head. "At least smile. It makes you more look a little more personable and less of a scary Hunter with a penchant for dark clothing and bloodied weaponry." "yes, mom. I'll play nice with the other kids." I chuckled, earning a knowing smirk and rolling of eyes from my fae companion. I knelt down, moving the wool cover to the side. Inside lay a naked man, skin pale and quivering. He was raven haired, long and messy. Also of note was the hair slowly rising from his flesh.

"Wait a moment," I said, puzzled. I looked up into the sky, and beyond the smog stood a crescent moon. "This...is odd. Spritely, what do you make of this?" She floated to the edge of the ornate lantern, looking out from her golden glow, like a Sapienoid flame.

"This is unnatural. I sense perversion...and not the fun kind. The kind that typically starts biting and clawing at us. This is no Lychanthrope..." "And no Anima." I added quietly. Suddenly, the pale body's head snapped unnaturally around, staring right at me. It's neck could be heard, snapping like a tree branch. The face that stared at me was shifting into an vaguely lupine form, eyes glowing like golden moons. Flesh stretching, bones forming, fur springing forth in patches, blood running from their roots. "Spritely..." "I'm on it," she answered quickly, as a glow surrounded my form, a protection charm. The beast rose sideways, it's legs extending and arms reversing in their joints. I drew my Winchester, aiming at my strange foe. "Name yourself, unnatural one. Quickly now, before I pump a few magic-killing friends of mine into you." The creature answered by shrieking at me, saliva and mucus spritzing forth, as everything in the once humanoid body crackling and shattering; skin now a loose cloth, tearing and wrinkling, upon an alien form."Name yourself! I am not going to warn you a second time!" I yelled. It seemed to chuckle, as if amused by my efforts. A deep, hellish voice roiled from the depths of the creature's maw: " _ THE NAME YOU SEEK IS MANY; AT ONCE KNOWN AND UNKNOWN , ESPECIALLY TO YOU , HUNTER _ DESCHAIN." A place deep inside me seemed to come alive, as if awakened from a long, deep slumber.

My stomach spiraled in upon itself."How do you know me, dark one?" It chuckled once more, a rumbling from the earth. One's own nightmare become reality. Then, suddenly, the beast leapt forth, knocking me over as the shack burst into pieces, the aura around me shuddering and leaving a shimmering trail behind the creature as It leapt up onto the nearest roof. It's neck growing long, huge ragged wings bursting from it's form like unholy arms. A long shrill howl pierced the air, livening up the formally silent night air. Soon, in answer, a symphony of shrill rumbling howls echoed throughout Birkshire and the surrounding woods; Seemingly from all around the Northern Region of Grimmwood. As I looked about, getting to my feet, the horizon line of many a building and even the walls surrounding Birkshire were dotted with the silhouettes of the dark beast .

"Spritely...what the hell is happening?" I spoke solemnly. Her voice rattled.

"It's impossible...but..." I looked down at my fae companion.

"But what, Spritely?" She shuddered, eyes dead set on the horizon line.

" The Rift has begun." And with that, I felt as if the whole world had suddenly grown cold.

Chapter One: A Boy Born Of The Woods

My first memories are difficult to describe; the smell of morning dew and wet bark, beams of impossibly bright light dancing about my vision with reckless abandon. I lay, curled up into a ball, my fluffy orange tail just under my muzzle. Around me was a hollow log, it's wood creaking and leaking with rain water. Just in front of me lay a hole in the surrounding wood, moss hanging in front of the hole, the light illuminating the moss with a bright green hue. I could not remember anything before that point, nothing. A vague feeling of familiarity hung in the air like a mist, invisible, but there all the same. Teasing my senses with it's semi-existence. In the distance, a crackling of leaves could be heard. Immediately, I began to whine and cry; the meager defenses of a baby fox. The crackling stopped as a slight sprinkling sound could be heard, like wind chimes deep within a cave. As my whines and cries grew louder and more shrill, a bright light superseded even the sun's own considerable effort. As the chiming grew closer, the moss hanging above the hole grew to a vibrant vermillion with a small, sapien-esque figure in the center. I backed up against the log, my socked paws scratching meagerly into the wood; slipping slightly with the wetness.

"Hush now, hush little one." The glowing figure spoke gently, the ringing of a bell in a slow, trance-like tone. I sought to defy the glowing form, my whines more high pitched than ever as I stood up on my hind legs. Iswiped at the moss blindly, attempting to either harm or scare the small being away; wanting naught of anything's assistance or hostility, whichever it may be. A small ringing sounded, the moss having been swept aside by my paw. Focusing on the hole, I saw nothing. The bright beams of light made the outside an unknown land of bright yellows and greens. A place my young fetal mind wanted nothing of. Then, in shock, I fell to my left; the small glowing thing had just come in from my right with a big, loud, shrill " BOO!" As I scrambled to regain ground, my poor little paws slipping and scratching about on the damp wood, The figure drew in close to my muzzle, standing tip-toe on my little black nose. I stood still, slumping back on my shoulder. I stared at her, my light brown eyes crossed. She spoke again, the lilting ringing of wind chimes. Despite my infantile mind's attempts to demonize that which I did not understand, her words got through to me in a way that would continue to mesmerize and infuriate me for many centuries to come.

"Now listen here, furball. I am not here to hurt you. So, stop with the bawling and swiping or I WILL. Got it!?" I nodded. I didn't say she was subtle. In point of fact, I maintain that despite her feminine form, she has a very masculine demeanor. However, I would not recommend enlightening her of this opinion. I have awoken one too many mornings to find that my boots have grown teeth and that my drinking water tastes of donkey piss. Ow. She just hit me. And is cackling maniacally. She's mad, I tell you! Ow. That is getting old. "Young one, where is your mother?" I shake my head, both to the fact that I was unaware of where my mother was, and that I did not know what a mother was. "Your father?" Again, I shake my head for the same reasons. Spritely would later tell me that I had the saddest, most confused and profoundly naive eyes she had ever seen and will ever see. I am still not sure if that is a compliment or an insult. I am willing to bet a little of both. She's sickly sweet like that. Ow. I meant that as a compliment. Mostly.

"Oh, dear...You poor thing..." her eyes conveyed a deep feeling of sadness that I, even in my confused infantile mental-state, comprehended with crushing empathy. Her small, pale hand came to rest upon my forehead as she stepped forward onto my muzzle, falling to a rest on my forehead. Her small frame was barely felt, but the light with which she shined managed to warm my body. As I stared crossways at the small fae upon my muzzle, the true beauty of her form finally began to take hold of my now calm mind. Her image was like an emotional pacifier that sedated my fidgeting. The fae whispered softly,"I'll take care of you...I can not let a poor little fuzzball like you just sit here all alone...The world can be so harsh to beautiful things..." Even then, with my limited understanding of language, having understood her mostly through the fae's ability to communicate universally through magic, my heart nearly stopped and my throat felt stuffed up. This small, fragile looking creature brought with her, both figuratively and literally, a light that illuminated the darkness in my mind that threatened to shut down everything and call it a day. My fear was as such that even the concept of leaving this vaguely familiar alcove of dampened wood and rapidly deteriorating structural integrity was as terrifying as the grip of death upon the precipice of this life and the next. But with her presence...I felt safe.

Check Us Out Soon For The Next Chapter...A Home Of Root And Earth See You Soon!