The BlackHawk Meets The Tiger

Tiger Blackhawk

Description

The BlackHawk begins to terrorize a small city, pirates led by Skull terrorize the Dormoth waters of their merchant trade, Emperor Caja taxes his people to near starvation, and King Docera of the dwarves find his people in harm's way as giants attack.

Then appears a man dressed in white robes. He quickly makes a name for himself as he brings change to his part of this world. No one knew who he was or where he came from. These are his stories, his adventures. He was Tigerious Kunig. Most knew him as "the Tiger." Could a ninja one day become a great king?

Come, take a walk with the bard of Serious.

Sujets

• Fantasy
• Fiction
• Science fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Stratton Press
• Date de parution: 28 juin 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781648954269
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Blackhawk Meets the Tiger
 
A Fantasy Adventure
 
 
 
Tiger Blackhawk
 
 

 
THE BLACKHAWK MEETS THE TIGER
Copyright © 2021 Tiger Blackhawk
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
Stratton Press Publishing
831 N Tatnall Street Suite M #188,
Wilmington, DE 19801
www.stratton-press.com
1-888-323-7009
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in the work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
ISBN (Paperback): 978-1-64895-425-2
ISBN (Ebook): 978-1-64895-426-9
 
Printed in the United States of America
 
 
Contents
The Blackhawk Faces the Tiger
Accidental Heroes
Crossing a Blackhawk Is Never Wise
The Tiger Appears
A Bottled Hawk
The Emperor’s Gift
The Tiger Enters
Hawk and the Hunter
The Market
The Sea Dragon
To Build a Keep
You Can’t Be Serious
Lord Tiger of Serious
The Day Napol Shook
The New Era
The War of Skull
Tiger Gets Revenge
Chasing the Heart of a Tiger
Dragon Gold
A Secret Revealed
Lord Tiger Takes His Princess
Behold, Gods of the Heavens
A Time for Mourning, a Time for War
Taxes or Your Kingdom
The Family
A Family Tarnished
The Journey Home
Tiger’s Last Stand
Let’s Rock the City
Tiger Reaches the Limits of His Patience
All Things Must Come to an End

 
  The Blackhawk Faces the Tiger
Shadows flickered about the clearing as two shadows sat around a small campfire, the fire burning low and gentle. Their voices were like whispers upon the wind. Silence held about them as they stared into the flames, reflecting upon their past lives, each with a past they wished to forget. The air was crisp about them as they pulled their cloaks tighter. It was fate that had brought these two to this same gathering, one place in the middle of darkness. These two men were searching for a home, a place where they could be respected and welcomed. They were outcasts of society, alone with only each other to call a brother. One was a drow elf with dark skin and yellow eyes, his ears pointed, unlike a human’s, and his hair as white as snow. Like most other elven races, he was of a rather thin frame and slightly taller than the average human. This man was a skilled hunter, yet he had powers that would rival most mages. His cloak, a dusty brown, was made of a boar’s hide, leathers to keep him warm on this brisk night. He often wore a black cloak with a cowl to conceal his features from the rest of the world, but he could not hide those yellow eyes. Some thought of him to be akin to devils. The world would one day realize he wasn’t the one to fear. He was only known as the Shadow.
Across from this drow sat another man. He appeared normal to most, but there was something dark about this man, something that would make grown men shake in their very boots. This night he too wore black. He had a hawk-shaped mask over most of his face. His forehead and those eyes were all that showed. Those eyes, they were a piercing blue. Most that spoke of him would mention his piercing eyes. They said it was as if he could peer into a man’s soul, as if he could see all that was held within. He had this power to make people do things with just a look. He always wore black gloves, a black cloak, and a black cowl that covered his head. He would walk in the shadows like a ghost. He was not a big man, only about five feet and nine inches. The only visible weapon upon his person was a black-hilted sword. When pulled, they said the steel was as black as the darkest moonless night. This was the man that the world would learn to fear. He would make his name known to all as the BlackHawk.
Who am I? I am the storyteller of their adventures, stories given to me by the witnesses and pieced together over the years, stories that men themselves spoke to me before their passing. I shall be the bard that guides you through th is unusual story not just of these two men, but of four men. It is an entangled web of deceit, honor, heroism, death, greed, and, yes, even of love. For now, you may call me bard, a storyteller. You may place your coins in my small box should you find them of any value.
I suppose I should tell you of these other two men that will become an important part of this world’s history. Perhaps I should wait before I unveil the heroes of this story. Or were they truly heroes? I learned that it is often hard to tell them apart. Let us continue.
The third man in this story, amazingly, is a shadow of a being. He has no facial features. Most that looked upon him feared him, yet he appeared to be a very good and honest man. He always wore a cloak of black, and his image seemed to waver as he moved. He seemed clouded by shadows even on a bright summer’s day. He was not someone most would respect or learn to love. They say that appearances can be very deceiving, as if to look upon something in one light, only to later learn it was not as it seemed. It was never fully known as to what this man was. If given enough coin in my hat, I might reveal the truths within my tales. Or perhaps I don’t know the truths as to the answers of this man. But what is a tale worth if there isn’t at least some mystery? This man, the world came to know as Leftner or the Dark One.
The fourth man.
With a pause, Silver stopped telling his story to those who listened within the tavern. His fingers moved to rake through silver-and-black striped hair as he paused for those listening to drop in a few coins. There was something about this fourth man that seemed to pique the interest of his listeners. This was Silver’s way to make a few extra coins as he journeyed along the lands. This man wasn’t a normal bard by any means, yet the stories rolled off his tongue like a magical tune as he spoke. Those listening moved closer to hear the tales of one man, the man that would change their history. Silver nodded once to his audience, and once more began to tell his tales.
This fourth man often dressed in white. He had tigers embroidered upon each of his sleeves, over his heart, and across his back. He wore no mask to conceal his identity. Across his back was a golden-hilted sword, and when drawn, its steel shone of a light blue glow. He was a man of power, a man that all feared. He had these striking blue eyes that could draw the wind from the north and send it to attack the east. His eyes were so similar to that of the BlackHawk that most wondered if they had at one time been brothers. He was the rival of all that was evil. No one stood before him; even the gods themselves quaked in his path. The demons fled from his presence. He was Lord Tigerious Kunig! His name translated meant “the Tiger King.” This was the man that the world learned to respect and others would love with all their hearts.
Silver reached over to take up a mug of ale and smiled as he looked across the tavern at those who now listened to the story he was beginning to weave. Were they true stories? Or did he make them up? It mattered not to the audience as more coins found their way to his hat. His blue eyes took in his audience one more time, then he leaned forward and began to tell the stories of four men. I too sat closer to hear his words.

 
  Accidental Heroes
The story begins at that small campfire so many years ago. As I had said, silence held the two men that stared into that fire. They walked a path that fate had put upon each of them. They had only one gift, a piece bestowed upon them by some unknown power which they never revealed. Maybe they stole these items. What were their powers? To this day that remains a secret. But the drow wore a medallion upon his forehead. It was said to harness his powers and made him a stronger mage. His name came to be known as “the Shadow” for he always walked behind the BlackHawk, as if he was a shadow of the man. This man that sat across from Shadow had this sword that could carve a dragon like a loaf of bread, or so the stories often told. There was a darkness to his soul that was unmatched by the evils of hell itself. Though even with this dark shadow that lived within him, there as an odd light. Could it have been a spark of good within something so vile? Not likely of a man who would cut your head off for all the world to see, then boldly walk away as if to challenge anyone to do anything about it. All who got close to this man ended up as food for the worms.
Silver smiled at the reaction of his audience and took another long swig of his ale. Then motioned for the innkeeper to refill his mug as he sat it down to continue. It was well known that most who lived within these lands knew enough about the BlackHawk to have a fear of him. Stories often told of him would send shivers along the spines of most great warriors. For he was not considered a man, rather a beast, a demon of the dark. I wondered if these stories I was about to hear held any truths. In my curiosity I continued to listen.
Silence was broken by BlackHawk as they sat there. He says to the Shadow, “I have been thinking.”
The Shadow looked up at his brother and asked, “What about, my brother?”
The BlackHawk looked up to Shadow, those piercing blues cold as the night air in a deep winter. “I grow weary being a man paid to do