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Fulcrum Shift by Will Kalif

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Fulcrum Shift by Will Kalif
Ebook Synopsis

   The Fulcrum is a magical stone with tremendous power that was created by a race of people now long gone from the earth. They created it and the nine nexus stones to control the earth, but the Fulcrum's power destroyed them and nearly destroyed the earth. The Fulcrum and the nexus stones were buried and nearly forgotten for many generations.

   The evil Lord Balther has unearthed the Fulcrum and he is using its power to twist men and the earth into unnatural ruin. If he can also find the nine nexus stones his power will be complete and his evil horde of goblins and demons will destroy the earth.

   The only thing that can stop Balther's evil plan is Viss and his small band of companions. Travel with Viss as he discovers the unique power that each nexus stone possesses, and uncovers the secrets of his own forgotten past.,


The figure walked quietly down the cobblestone alley with purpose. His leather shoes made no sound on the stones. The black cloak draped around his body made him almost indiscernible from the build- ings around him in the dark moonless night. He came to an intersec- tion and stopped then turning left he paced off his steps carefully and stopped again under a stone arched bridge. Glancing around first, he placed a hand into a small hole in the building, and pulled himself upward. He proceeded quickly, going hand over hand, finding small crevices, until he reached the bottom of the arch. He grabbed the edge, and suspended by the strength in his fingers, he flexed his muscular forearms and pulled himself up onto the bridge. He hopped over the short wall onto the walkway and paused in a crouch. His sword clinked against the stones. He grabbed the metal sheath and moved it to a safer position. “Damn” he thought to himself. “I should have covered it with soft leather.” He froze as still as a marble statue as voices came from the far end of the bridge. Two guards were walking toward him, laughing and talking. Their footsteps loud as galloping horses in the quiet night. “The wench had the biggest bosoms I have ever seen. And soft, just like a kittens fur. She said she had to be on top. If she lay on her back they flopped against her chin.” His partner, the other guard, let out a roaring laugh. “Flopped against her chin, now those are some big bosoms.” The two continued on across the stone bridge not yet see- ing the black figure crouching against the waist high wall of the bridge.

Viss remained motionless in his crouch; his eyes fixed on the two men. They separated and walked toward him from two different angles. “What are you doing there? What brings you to this Court? Come out of those shadows there or I will feed you my sword.” One of the guards put his hand on his sword in a mock attempt at terrorizing Viss. “Come out I said.”

Viss didn’t move, and this puzzled the guards. The typical intruder would have run by now, but this one just huddled there. The menace of two armed guards put any sane man into a flee for his life. This is what always happened. A guard happened upon an intruder, he called for a halt and the intruder, having been found out, ran for his life and a grand chase followed. More guards were alerted and the intruder was usually caught and sentenced to the dungeon. The intruder was usually a commoner, down on his luck and trying to better his station by steal- ing from the castle. But this was out of the ordinary. There was no shock at being caught, and no grand chase through the outer levels of the castle.

The two guards stepped closer, doubting their eyes. Maybe it wasn’t a man. A moonless night could be deceiving. Viss waited patiently, his large hands remained relaxed and ready, lightly touching the stone near his feet. “The unexpected inaction can be just as much an advantage as the unexpected action.” He thought to himself, remembering the words of an old master.

They got close enough to be sure it was a man, but carefully stood out of sword reach. One of the guards turned his head slightly to the other. “Alert the commander of the guard, I will take care of this one.” Viss broke the silence as the second guard turned to leave:

“Fear not to be alone with me, he will return quickly.”

The arrogance of Viss’ statement stopped the second guard in mid turn and enraged the first guard so much that he rushed at Viss with- out even drawing his weapon.

“I am going to haul you along to the Captain either by your ears or spit on my sword.” The quiet arrogance of Viss’ statement angered him. He traveled the three steps between them quickly and grabbing Viss by the cloak drew him up to a standing position. The violence began. In a blur of unexpected speed Viss grabbed the guard’s wrists and smashed his forehead against his nose. The guard reeled back from the crack of the blow, but he couldn’t fall. Viss had both his wrists locked tightly in his hands. “He looked at the other guard. “Do not draw your sword.” His voice was confident and smooth, with no hint of the excitement of battle. The guard paused long enough for Viss to take initiative in the second round of violence. He crossed the guard’s wrists one over the other. This made the man’s shoulders shift and one of his feet to come off the stone of the walk. The second guard, sensing he had lost initiative and his comrade was in dire trouble, rushed in. Taking advantage of his captive’s imbalance he jerked the guard vio- lently, and the man toppled directly into the rushing guard. The two guards fell into a tangle of limbs against the stone. They recovered quickly and jumped to their feet, drawing their swords with clean metallic scrapes. Meet a fist with a fist, meet a sword with a sword, and bring death only when you must.” The long remembered and oft-repeated ritual came to Viss as it had many times in the past. It was another echo of a master from long ago.