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Braddock looked like the casual doctor; white coat, horn-rim glasses, slick brown hair and a knowledgeable face with cold eyes. He seemed to be holding an old oil lamp, however the light coming from it was opaque and was outshined by the golden rose.

“Up the rabbit hole and back again.” he said coldly as he touched the rose with his free hand. In the blink of an eye he was gone.

“What the Hell?” Joaquin ran to the sight, but there was nothing Braddock had truly vanished as an act of magic. Only the rose remained, only the rose, the rose! With shaking hands he reached for it. It was warm and smooth what a metallic sense to it. As his hand made contact with it he felt the strangest emotion he had felt so far; his feet had left the ground, all went black and the world was spinning out of control as if darkness itself had taken shape and swallowed him into an abyss. Suddenly his feet touched the ground, air was brushing against his face, the sun warming his cold body, the sun?

“Where am I may?” he was in the middle of a thick forest with ancient trees cover the land. Distant sounds could be heard, but nothing could be made out of them.

Then they came into view, gods ridding the lightning. In reality they were not gods, but several knights running at an amazing speed for man. They were clad from head to toe in armor. One knight caught his attention the most. This knight wore an extravagant golden armor, making him appear as if a he were golden hawk. It included gauntlets and greaves in the shape of rather menacing talons. His helmet even resembled a bird’s head, with the beak widely open for him to see. Even a pair of white-pale wings protruded from his back, giving the image of an angel.

Several knights ram after him with swords in hands, waving them madly.
“Get him!” said, the youngest knight while striking the winged knights golden chest plate.

“Damn where is Milo when we need him?” said a knight whose armor was stained with blood.

“He’s comin’, we just need to hold Windvlaag.” said the younger knight throwing a net at the knight called, Windvlaag.

“Lark, just focus and bring him down, now!” shouted their commander at Lark to the blood stained knight, who threw a trident at Windvlaag. Windvlaag easily dodged and ripped the net with his mighty talons. Soon none of them could aid weapons at him

Lark turned his head, blushing while his long brown hair waved in all directions. “Bsano get out of the way!” Lark shouted at the blood stained knight.

“Why?” but it came too late one of Windvlaag’s talons ripped the side of Bsano’s face. Blood was gushing from everywhere. His right eye was dangling from its nerve like a grotesque pendulum.

Next came the commander. He fell to his feet with a rusty dagger implanted in the back of his skull, not by Windvlaag’s action but from another knight.

“Karlam how could you do this, I thought you were with us? Remember the land that saw you’re birth Novosibirsk!” shouted Lark.

“Did you really think I buy that? I mean come on….I’m a freak, no land will take me, and no king will reward me. So I’ve taken this matter into my own hands. I’m going to build my own empire!” said Karlam with a sadistic voice, while clicking his nails madly.

From what Joaquin could see, Lark was something more then you regular foot soldier. His shining white armor had a tattered blue cape coming from his shoulders. Now that his hair was not flying everywhere Joaquin saw that he had a proper hair cut, while Bsano’s hair was everywhere.

“You abomination! My father gave you a roof to sleep under, when your own family disowned you!” this seemed to strike a nerve with Karlam, because, aside from twitching, he cracked his knuckles quite ominously.