Kaizer's Hollow History

The Legend of Hollow

The Wanderers

        Tension filled the sea-borne air of Senal as an army of wicked creatures of Old made their way into its boundaries. The villagers rushed to their homes as though sensing the evil intentions of the warriors. Two great dragons parted the legions of Ogres and Orcs and came forward to the town square. They paused for a moment and sniffed the biting breeze. Kaizer's body lowered to the ground as his eyes began to glimmer. Solaris mimicked as did the others. Suddenly, from the thick of the grasslands, the Xera charged upon the City of Senal. In chilling cries of wrath the Orcs rushed forward with shimmering scimitars edged with poison. Kaizer and Solaris leapt over the front line of the Xera and rushed into their archers. Kaizer's tail whipped past with blinding quickness pummeling five or six to their deaths. Solaris' mouth dropped open as a deep growl came forth with a wrath of flame engulfing the fleeing Xerian enforcements. They turned to see the Ogres' great mallets colliding into the Xerian Knights, crushing their bodies to the ground as the Orcs cleaved through their weak leather hauberks into the soft flesh beneath. In a matter of time the Xera had been defeated.

        Just over the eastern horizon, a shadow was cast upon the new morning of the land. Kaizer and Solaris gazed in awe at what they witnessed… Two shrouded figures slowly approached the land, seeming to blacken the sky of the sun behind them. They strode across the water in a chilling silence, coming ever closer to the shores. As they stepped foot upon the land, they continued walking as though being lead by unseen forces. As they turned to the north, Kaizer approached them and stopped just in front of the two.

"What is it you seek, wanderers?" he spoke toward the two figures.

From within the hood of both beings an almost hissing voice returned, "They who house themselves above the halls of Crius…"

"How am I to be sure you are not really the Xera yourselves? Perhaps you seem to have come from afar in hopes of leading an attack from behind me…"

Solaris approached the two from behind, "Perhaps we should devour you here and now…"

        The two figures glanced up at Kaizer, revealing their crimson eyes as a spark of hatred kindled within them. In an instant the two were lifted above the ground and bound with a power like no other. Their mouths gaped open but failed to catch a breath of the cold breeze. The two spoke at once, "You will be spared to serve a greater purpose in times to come…" Immediately Kaizer and Solaris were hurled aside and crashed into the earth as the two continued toward the north.

        Bewildered of the powers of the wanderers, Kaizer and Solaris continued north in their pursuit. As they traveled along the grasslands of Senal, they began to see signs of the two. Animals lay strewn about the ground as their corpses rotted beneath the glaring sun. A trail of singed grass cut through the land in the direction of Crius. By nightfall they came upon a stream of glistening water that flowed east, separating the land of Crius from that of Senal. Kaizer turned to the army and spoke aloud, "This is the last stop before victory, fellow warriors. Beyond this stream lies an army awaiting our arrival. Fight with me and you will have what it is you seek!" As soon as his words were spoken, he leapt across the stream and flew toward the Tower of Crius, followed by Solaris and an army afoot. The surrounding barricades were set ablaze and tore down by Solaris and Kaizer, leaving the City of Crius vulnerable to attack.

        The nimble Orcs rushed through the barricades first and met the front lines of the Xerian Knights. Kaizer and Solaris circled high above the tower, showering it with a barrage of flame that seemed to have no effect. Far below they could see the Xera preparing another wave of attack. In an outrage, the two fell to the ground, throwing earth and stone high into the air about them. Arrows showered they're impenetrable scales and shattered upon impact. Flame burst from within their mouths and devoured the flesh and bone of those in its path. Kaizer leaped into the Knights from behind, tearing their bodies apart with uncanny skill. Solaris' jaws closed around several Knights and shred through their armor and flesh, littering the ground with blood and gore beneath him. From the corner of his eye, Kaizer caught the glimpse of the two wanderers that he sought to find. He stared as they walked though the battlefield unnoticed by all who fought around them. Their slow stride took them to the foot of the Tower of Crius…

        The two stopped at the foot of the tower and paused for a moment. From within the shrouds of one of the wanderers, a fiery wrath of flame burst about two glowing eyes. A fell cry rumbled from deep within the earth and shook the land above. A deafening pulse riddled the land as the Tower of Crius collapsed to the ground into a megalithic pile of rubble. The two armies fled from the battlefield shrieking in fear. The sky above split apart as a burst of lightening wailed upon the land just behind the wanderers. Within the charred circle of stone stood four light-clad warriors. Each bore a rune that hung upon their necks by strands of leather.

The shrouded beings turned and faced the four warriors and spoke, "We have come for the Blade…"

One of the glistening Knights replied, "And the Blade you shall not have…Khasad."

"You fool, Falcanthen. The prophecy does not lie. The Blade will be found and the way to Perdere will once more be opened."

"And you have Elazul to guide you it seems," Orvaac spoke glancing to Khasad's left.

"Indeed," Elazul spoke, "the runes about your necks will be lost to us, and my brother will break the soul of Tiaren…"

"Speak not the name of the world's savior!" Ryvain shouted in anger.

"Do not think of his destruction to be mere death, but releasing his tormented soul from that of the Blade, his tormentor..." Khasad laughed.

"Enough, Khasad," Norodruin muttered, "you will be stopped here and now, for all eternity!"

"Come now, the Blade will not rest forever, and I will be he who awakens it…" Khasad said in a dark tone.

        In a blinding flash, Khasad and Elazul burst from within their shrouds and rushed upon the four. Reaching over his shoulder, Khasad drew forth a burning blade and headed directly toward Falcanthen. As Falcanthen's blade met that of Khasad's, it caught nothing but wind as Khasad whipped past and struck Ryvain sidelong. Norodruin leapt upon Khasad with his blade drawn. Just as he fell upon Khasad, a burst of flame from Elazul hurled him aside and to the ground in a burning heap. Orvaac leapt behind Khasad and drove his rune deep into his back. Pulses of light emitted from within the jewel and bound themselves about Khasad's body. Falcanthen immediately charged toward Elazul with his blade held to his side. A gust of wind encircled Elazul as his eyes pulsed with surges of energy. Elazul brandished a grim scythe from within his cloak and held it fast in hand. His blade met Falcanthen's, showering the land all about them in a brilliant array of flames. Ryvain leapt high above and came down upon Elazul with a bolt of lightening. The earth rumbled as Elazul fell to one knee. In a fury he lifted the weight of Falcanthen and Ryvian combined and hurled them to his side. From amidst the darkness, Norodruin leapt upon Elazul as he did to Khasad. With a quick gesture, Elazul raised his palm toward Norodruin as a dark mist pulsed outward. It engulfed Norodruin and stopped him in mid-air. His body writhed as his life was slowly smothered away. Elazul turned and laughed as Norodruin's body collided into Ryvain, hurling them both deep into the ruins of Crius. Elazul glanced to his side just in time to see Falcanthen's blade pierce into his chest. Elazul's eyes met those of Falcanthen's as a grim smile formed on his face. "The prophecy becomes more real with every action…" he muttered and burst into black flames.

        Falcanthen slowly made his way back to Orvaac who was standing strong with the writhing body of Khasad in his hold. Strands of light beamed out of Falcanthen's rune as he approached Khasad, who was now on his knees, struggling against the power of the runes. From amidst the ruins of the tower, came Norodruin and Ryvain whose runes had also begun to emit the powerful binding light. Norodruin stooped down to Khasad as a grin formed across his hardened face.

"All that power left untouched by your tainted hands. It's almost a shame that you will suffer the same fate as that of the Blade…" Norodruin spoke mockingly.

With some struggle Khasad raised his head and glared deep into Norodruin's eyes, "I can see your death is not long from now, Knight of Eurydel. And you sense it…deep inside you know you cannot bind me for eternity with the weakening power of the Stones. It torments you to know that fate will not fail me…"

"Enough of your rambling Khasad," Orvaac said as he twisted the rune deeper into his back.

"A lonely tomb awaits thee, Khasad," Falcanthen spoke. "Seven days we will travel; five by the light of the sun, and two beyond its reaches, into a land untouched by the light of day. It is here that you will spend the rest of your tormented existence. Your screams of lament will be heard by no one, and the world as you know it will exist only in disturbed dreams of wrath that will torture your tainted soul for all eternity…"

"Just as the fate laid upon Tiaren, the binds will not last for long…" Khasad muttered as he calmed his struggle against the runes.

        The five set out immediately, heading west by the light of the stars. The lush grasslands of Crius slowly rotted. All that remained in a day's time were the once barren sands of the nameless desert. Crius lay forever in ruins in the midst of the searing glare of the sun above…

        For five nights the Four carried Khasad across the land, bearing the weight of his writhing body. At the end of the fifth night, they came upon a massive gateway that lay in the face of a blackened hill. Strange and powerful binding scriptures covered its doors, which were laced in adamant. Falcanthen placed his rune upon the center of the gateway and whispered a message in the language of the dead. The air suddenly thickened as the ground began to rumble. A ribbon of light flowed from within the doors as they slowly edged open. He turned and took hold of Khasad who had begun to struggle once more. As they pulled him inside the glistening cavern, the light quickly faded. His tainted soul lashed out at the cavern walls, shrouding their luster in the deep blackened color of shadows. For two days they traveled, with each step becoming more grim than the first. At the end of the staircase, the five stood before a sanctuary that emitted a bloodlike luster. In the center of the room a triangular plate stood vertical that, too, was covered in binding scriptures that faded and shifted in random patterns. They drug Khasad across the rune-covered floor of the sanctuary and placed his back against the plate. Jagged chains burst from within the plate and wrapped themselves around Khasad's body. The four Knights stood around Khasad; each held their runes before his tainted body. Flashes of light pummeled Khasad's body, seeming to pierce deep into his soul and grasp it tight. They lowered the runes and turned away from Khasad, leaving him bound against the plate. Khasad began convulsing violently, sputtering out profane messages toward the Four.

        "The last of the Ancient Cities have been destroyed! You Four are all that stand against the power of the Blade. In the end you will all be forsaken in your deaths for the Blade will take its revenge in your absence!" Khasad shouted as the four began their ascent to the land that would not long remain hollow of its evils…

The Return of Elazul

        Upon that fateful day, four Knights of Eurydel vanquished Khasad, the last of the prime evils that roamed the land, ever in search of the Blade of the Tainted King. With the last remaining power of the runes, the gateway to his dark sanctuary was sealed for an eternity that would be, in the minds of the Four, eternal… Falcanthen, holder of the Dark Rune, began his great slumber beneath that which cannot be reached. Orvaac, holder of the Sky Rune, slept amidst the winds of time. Ryvain, holder of the Blue Rune, sought refuge beneath that which shall not endure the bite of flame. Norodruin, keeper of the Light Rune, took an oath to remain awake and endure the wrath of time. For a thousand years he roamed the land, waiting for the return of the ever-present evils that lay beneath the City of the Damned…

        From beneath the stone-covered grounds of Senal's town square, came the wicked howls of foul demons that lurked below. In the center of the square, a single stone wedged loose from its foundation and hurled itself high above the city before tumbling to the ground and shattering into a heap of blackened stone. The ground suddenly pushed upward, crumbling the stone floor of the town square as it protruded above the ground into a large dome. The earth groaned as the dome ruptured sending a pummeling shower of stone upon the surrounding city. Wicked creatures emerged from the massive hole in the center of what used to be the town square. They flailed about the city, tearing its inhabitants limb from limb with seemingly unlimited strength. Amidst the chaos a single figure emerged from within the crater. His body was shrouded in a black cloak that blurred the area about him. The stones beneath his feet lay blackened as his tainted body passed over them. Following immediately after the figure, came black flames. They devoured the city in a matter of moments, leaving nothing but the charred foundations of the once beautiful city. The wanderer walked amidst the flame, undaunted by its ferocious appetite. As the figure left the city, the ensuing destruction followed close at hand. With each step he took, wicked trees burst from beneath the ground. Their twisted branches intertwined into an impassible thicket, drowning out the glare of the sun above…

        The once great city of Crius had long since lay in ruin amidst the nameless desert that devoured its glory. The wanderer approached the sand-eaten ruins of the tower and placed his hands upon the crumbling stones. His body writhed in a surge of dark power that pushed him to the ground, burying his knees deep in the glistening sand. His hood fell back revealing the revenant corpse of Elazul, "Yes, brother…I sense your torment deep beneath the land…" His head fell back as his eyes began to pulse brightly, casting an eerie glow upon the surrounding stones. "The wrath you conceal within your tomb shall be unleashed upon the remaining Four…but I feel the time is not yet right…" He pulled his hands away from the stones, and for a moment, remained in a trancelike state. He pulled himself to his feet and glanced about the land. Deep were his breaths as the desert winds whirled around him, bringing the sweet scent of living flesh. Without notion he turned and faced the northern horizon. His slow stride took him across the desert and toward the city of the fleeing Xera, the City of Cenril…

        In the dawn of the morning, his tainted body set foot upon the holy grounds of Cenril. From beneath the ground came a rumble like no other. The grounds burst open, spewing flames upon the city from within. The land quivered as his tainted corpse strode toward the Cathedral. A young woman stood in her home shouting to her child who had wandered away in the midst of the chaos. "Eilan! Eilan! Come child!" the woman shrieked in a rage of tears. Elazul took hold of the child who had now fallen to the ground in the confusion. He held his hand out over her head as he spoke, "Drink child, and your fears with be lost to an ever-plaguing thirst…" As the words died away, the child's mouth opened as she gazed into Elazul's burning eyes. A single drop of blood formed in the palm of his soiled hand. As it fell into the child's mouth, she fell to her back and began convulsing upon the ground. Her body aged rapidly as two glistening fangs protruded from the top of her mouth. She lifted above the ground and gazed deep into the light of the sun. A wicked cry echoed from within her now grown body. The sky darkened as the sun fell from view. Eilan fell to her feet and raised her head to Elazul. Her crimson eyes flashed as she leapt away into the night…

        Elazul strode across the city, untouched by the swords of the brave who ran uncontrollably through the chaotic city. Their screams filled the air as Eilan devoured the blood from their frail bodies. At last Elazul had found the Cathedral, the bearer of Balzeph's Scriptures… As Elazul approached the massive doors of the Cathedral, three lone warriors burst through and confronted him. Their armor glistened in night sky as the flames of the city cast their crimson glow. Elazul's eyes glinted in the darkness as he raised his hand toward the three. Flames bit the air about his hand as he hovered above the ground. The three leapt to the side as the doors of the Cathedral exploded into flames from the force of Elazul's blow. As the three drew forth to attack, they too began to hover helplessly above the ground. Elazul raised his hand once more toward the three…out of the corner of his eye he caught the glimpse of a shrouded figure leap to the top of the Cathedral. A flickering stone hung around its neck as it peered down upon Elazul. A grim smile formed on Elazul's pallid face as his hand lowered to his side. As the three warriors fell to the ground, Syven came to one knee and placed his hands in front of him. The sky glistened as a bolt of lightening fell upon Elazul. His tainted body struck the ground as the air was filled with his wicked laughter, "The time has not yet come for the Blade to be revived!" Loraeth quickly closed in on Elazul, who was pulling himself to his feet. Loraeth lunged his blade deep into Elazul's back, stopping at its golden hilt. Hindus raised his bow and loosed an arrow upon Elazul. the arrow burst through his corpse as it ruptured into a violent torrent of flames. The three stood in horror as Elazul's corpse burned away in the black flames of Perdere…

The Rise of Arrecation

        Deep in the days of Old, a new evil had arisen from the midst of the southern reaches of the land. Great warriors shrouded in blackened crimson robes rode upon the massive steeds of black horses. Their terrible raids on the borderlands of the south left a horrible disposition upon its inhabitants. The dark warriors had been spotted as far north as Tritan and Nayrul. This oddity brought the Grand Council of Hollow together for the first time since the uprising of Elazul, nearly 300 years before. The gathering of the Grand Council even more alarmed the surrounding cities; for it could mean only one thing…war.

        Seven Sages of Hollow accompanied by three solitary warriors gathered at the Grand Council. Ravian, Noble of the city of Tritan, Dyven, King of Gualon, Nymur, Governess of Nayrul, Lorvac, Arc Chieftain of the city of Cruaghmoyle, Alrion, High Elven Druid of the Sage Forest, Xulven, Monarch of the Dragons, and Ceryl, Queen of the Pixies were seated about a circular table. Three warriors stood silently in the shadows of the Council, listening with utmost concern. The first held a wooden staff engraved with precious gems and runes. His dark blue robe glistened in the starlight that shone through the canopy of trees above. The second warrior was clad in a dark green cloak that hung loosely over his studded leather hauberk. The wooden hilt of a rapier settled deep in its scabbard could be seen on his left side. An elegant bow of the finest elven craft was held tightly upon his back beside a leather quiver filled with arrows laced in gold. The third warrior stood in glistening chain mail topped with a shining helm of laden silver. The mundane luster of his blade's golden hilt caught the light of the stars as he shifted from time to time. The three seemed quiet and calm to the rest of the highly concerned members who were divided on the matter of war and treaties. Dyven, a strong-willed fighter and leader of Gualon, stood in outrage toward the other members who refused to take up arms against the enemy.

"My city will fall in a matter of weeks unless we join forces and push these grotesque things back to Perdere where they came from!" he shouted in exasperation.

"No enemy will confront the stronghold of our nations," interrupted Ravian. "We have nothing to fear from these mere bandits."

"But you forget old friend," said Alrion, "barely 300 years ago an army of souls confronted us and nearly won…"

"Elazul, The Dark," said Xulven in a deep and almost growling voice.

"The name of a dead tyrant no less, and dead he shall remain, along with his vile doings," piped Ceryl, who was now beginning to glow in the nighttime darkness.

        The graceful voice of Nymur suddenly took over the conversation, "He may be dead himself, but his doings have not vanished from this land forever. And we Sages have taken our vow to defend the land from such evils arising once more. And Elazul's last words were 'The time has not yet come for the Blade to be revived…' I fear that those words were more than a mumbled phrase of hatred." With this being said, a dead silence took over the Council.

        Within the tainted lands of the south, dark warriors emerged from their deep slumber. Riding in as a tempest of hatred, they had pierced the Undead Forest and began attacking townships in the Gualon region. It was rumored that they shouted the name of Arrecation in their chilling fell cries of wrath. No one knew the true meaning of this name, but the sound of it coming from within the black cloaks of unmerciful warriors struck fear into their hearts. Dyven had dispatched a small group of Gualon warriors to guard the borders of Gualon, without the consent of the Council. The warriors were all clad in uniform breastplates, and each had long spears of steel. They were highly skilled fighters who lacked the fear of death, and would sacrifice their life if it would mean the security of their homeland. In the midst of the night, they stood watch along the banks of the Xarus Lake. From across the placid waters, a strange glow seemed to fill the dark forest on the eastern side. Tyr, the leader of the battalion, spoke quietly to the others. The strange glow was that of torches, thousands of them. Tyr motioned to keep quiet and low to the ground. They gazed across the lake in horror…

        An armored knight rode out from the forest upon his great steed before the vast Lake Xarus. His pitch-black armor was covered in a flowing black cape that flexed and moved without the aid of wind. It would bite at the air wickedly as it swayed from side to side. His face was covered in a black helm that revealed only the dark red glow of his eyes through narrow slits in the front. Jagged pieces of adamant protruded from the face of the helm and came to sharp points. The hilt of a grim sword could be seen just above his right shoulder; its blade was concealed within a rune-covered scabbard that lay beneath his cape. An aura seemed to surround him as he rode causing his entire shape to flex and distort. To his side rode another dark being whose flesh was covered in deep bleeding wounds revealing arcane messages of sacrilege. His face was concealed within the hood of his dark cloak. The curved blade of a strange weapon extended from within his cloak and bent to his side. From behind the two, came seven more on foot. Each of them was cloaked in a distorted aura of darkness. The ground of which they walked blackened and died just moments after their tainted entities had made contact. They each held strange and wicked weapons of evil as they walked side by side. An army of warriors followed close behind in the thicket of the Undead Forest.

        Just as the knight in lead reached the water's edge, he stopped and dismounted his horse. He slowly approached the calm water and knelt down as though to drink from it. He slowly placed his hand upon the surface of the lake and spoke in a strange tongue. The water turned ice cold around his hand and suddenly began to solidify. Within moments, the icy touch of his hand had reached the far edges of the other side of the lake. Quickly, the lake had become frozen. Loud bursts filled the air as the water creaked and broke down the middle. The edge of the lake burst upon the land around its banks and carved deep into the soil and rock. The dark knight mounted his steed once more and began to cross the now frozen lake. Just as he had reached the center of the lake, Tyr leaped up in fear and shouted a war cry. Immediately, the battalion charged toward the oncoming soldiers. From behind the dark knight, the seven shrouded beings leapt forward with incredible speed, and charged head on into the battalion. The warriors' spears failed to catch the tainted flesh of any of the beings. In less than four or five minutes, the entire battalion had been slain. Only Tyr remained standing among the mangled, bleeding corpses of his fellow warriors. The seven beings returned behind the knight and stood silently. Tyr charged toward the knight with anger and pain in his eyes. Just as he reached the knight, he was taken over by a strange force. His blade crumbled into pieces and left only the hilt of his blade in hand. His body rose above the icy ground and hovered in front of the knight. The knight spoke in an unnerving voice that sent a chill up Tyr's spine, "Go to the Council of Elders, and tell them the Son of Elazul has come for their heads…" With a simple motion of the knight's hand, Tyr was hurled out of his way. He slammed into the solid ice and slid for some distance. The dark knight continued his ascent, followed by an army of wicked creatures…

        The moon slowly edged over the horizon as the eastern sky began to brighten, casting an eerie red glow upon the dew of early morning. The Council sat in complete silence, pondering on the dreadful meaning of Elazul's last words. A shrill voice broke the monotonous silence shouting, "The enemy cometh!" The Council turned to see the broken body of Tyr making his way through the forest. He collapsed at the feet of Dyven who was now standing in shock. Tyr began rambling messages in a nearly illiterate fashion. From what was said, the Council had figured what he meant when he mentioned the name of Elazul. As the last of his words were spoken, his body quickly turned cold as his eyes filled with a gray mist. Dyven stood, leaning over the frail corpse of Tyr. He looked toward the others with a pleading look of help. At that moment the three warriors who had remained silent stepped forward, each bore a grim face with the intent of revenge.

Sven, the Archmage of Xalious dressed in blue, spoke, "A course of action must be taken at once, before more lives are lost without cause…"

Hind, the armor-clad Eternal of the Forests, spoke, "Our fathers fought and defeated Elazul, and we will do the same for his seed…"

Lore, the Arc Knight of Cenril, spoke, "And like our fathers before us, we will succeed in ridding this land of evil once again…"

        Dyven broke out in anger, "Ravian, come with me to Gualon dear friend and warrior, together we will drive these ruthless savages back where they came from!" Nymur and Ceryl immediately stood and began chanting and laid many strange and powerful blessings upon the entire Council. Ravian stood and nodded to Dyven as he retrieved his golden blade from its sheath. The fastest messenger was sent to Tritan to give word of war and return with enforcements. Lorvac insisted that the Dwarves participate in the liberation of Gualon and sent another messenger to Cruaghmoyle for more soldiers. It was decided that the three warriors remain in Sage Forest to prevent an invasion of Hollow's stronghold. Within the evening of that night the two messengers had returned with eight hundred Dwarven and Human recruits. Dyven, Ravian, and Lorvac marched toward Gualon City.

        The legion of evil warriors had reached Gualon a day in advance. The soldiers who remained in Gualon were slain. Those who fled were quickly hunted down and torn to pieces with grotesque weapons of torture. The city's capitol was set ablaze, and the surrounding townships were burned to the ground. The army ravaged and destroyed everything in their path. When the entire city was laid to waste, the dark knight sent two separate parties; the first consisted of the Seven demons that followed behind in the shadows. They were sent to the western reaches of the Xalious frontier to abolish any living thing that opposed them. The second was a group of wicked wraiths cloaked in dark robes; they were led by the desecrated being who rode beside the dark knight, to the city of Cenril to take control of the eastern boundaries of all the land. The dark knight remained in Gualon, anticipating the return of its King.

        Dyven and the other two arrived in northern Gualon by the early morning of the next day. They surrounded Gualon and charged inward, but they were caught in a trap. From the thick of the swamps and moors of Gualon, the wraithen army emerged and attacked Dyven's forces from behind. The evil warriors quickly overcame the three. Dyven, Ravian, and Lorvac were surrounded and hemmed against the blackened wall of the once magnificent castle of Gualon. The dark knight approached them on horseback, bearing a grim smile and a wicked laugh as he confronted them. He dismounted and stood in front of the three. "Three Elders I have kneeling before me…"

"Our deaths will mean nothing, for you will never overcome the Three guardians," shouted Dyven in a fit of rage.

The knight stepped closer to Dyven, close enough for his body to be distorted by the knight's powerful aura. "Do you fear death little one?"

"Do not hold me in contempt of my fears, for I fear it not."

”Then death you shall taste…"

Lorvac broke out in an almost pleading voice, "What be thy name, Son of Elazul?"

"The name is of no importance, but if you wish to know… I am Arrecation."

"So you are the one those savages speak of, a tyrant no less," interrupted Ravian.

        Arrecation approached Ravian while reaching to his back and unsheathing a dark blade that shimmered in the black flames of Perdere. The tip of his blade met Ravian's neck; the two glared into each other's eyes, as though they were looking deep within their souls. Without warning, Arrecation pulled his blade across Ravian's throat. His head fell limp as a stream of blood flowed from his mouth. The gaping wound in his throat bled in gushes that formed small rivulets upon his battered breastplate. Arrecation turned to the others and made a single wave of his hand in their direction. They burst into flames and died screaming and writhing in pain. All that remained were charred corpses bound against the burned wall. Arrecation mounted his steed and headed north toward Sage Forest, followed by his army of darkness…

        Less than a day after the battle at Gualon, the seven demons had made their way into the Xalious Mountains. They were met with a considerable amount of resistance from inhabitants of the villages surrounding the Mage Tower. Powerful wizards unleashed a barrage of magical power upon the demons, but nothing seemed to affect them. Bolts of lightening shimmered all about them, seeming to pass through their entire bodies as though they were transparent. Raging flames torched the sky and land about them, blackening the ground and dwindling the tall pines to nothing more than a pile of ash. The blaze whipped around the demons but took no effect upon their wraithen bodies. A torrent of hail fell from the chaotic skies upon the demons, but simply burst upon their cloaks and riddled the ground with fragments of ice all about them. The seven demons took to the offensive and stood in a wide arc forming a crescent around the entrance of the Mage Tower. They began to quiver as their eyes flashed in beating patterns of blinding white light. From beneath their feet, the wizards could feel a rumble as though it were thunder underground. The land began to crack and burst in places, sending rocks and megaliths high into the air only to come crashing down upon the earth in a fit of rage. The stones lining the summit of the tower broke away and fell to the ground, killing many of the bemused wizards. When it seemed the chaos had reached climactic proportions, the ground under the wizards fell from beneath them. They were pulled into the land as though they were being dragged by unseen forces. When all of the remaining wizards and mages had been devoured by the land itself, the pandemonium suddenly ceased. The wind began to whisk ominously, changing direction in random instances. The seven cast out their power once more, setting the villages ablaze. Women and children alike were slain without mercy. From the depths of a cave came a battered Dwarf. He stumbled some distance and fell dead not far from the seven. The immense power of the demons had completely destroyed the vast underground cities of the Dwarves. Only small bands of Dwarves remained. Most were trapped deep within sealed chasms of the Xalious Mountains. The demons turned and disappeared within the flames of the village, heading east toward the boundaries of Sage Forest…

        The second party arrived in Cenril two days after the destruction of Gualon. Immediately they began their assault upon the townships. Legions of glimmering knights emerged from high towers and stations to meet the oncoming assault. With blades drawn they charged into battle without fear. Cavalry from Nayrul combined with the Cenril knights proved to be a considerable force. Many of the wraiths were uncloaked and exposed to the direct light of the sun. They fell to the ground blinded and were quickly overtaken. But those who were more powerful could resist the sun's light and continued the onslaught. The wraithen leader unveiled his mask and glared upon the warriors. He yelled in a shrieking voice, "Behold, the face of Sacrilus! The face of the Damned!" His tainted face was covered in deep gashes and scars of cursed writings that bled as though they were made only seconds before. The knights fell back in fear of the wicked creature; many fled deep into the Sage Forest. The dark warriors overcame those who remained, and forced them into the safety of the forest as well. The leader of the army raised his hand in signal to the rest of the wraiths. Almost immediately they uncloaked massive torches. The torches burst into black flames as the riders hurled them deep into the Sage Forest. In just a few moments, the entire eastern portion of the Sage forest was engulfed in flames. The wraithen army charged into the forest to kill any who remained living…

        Billows of dark smoke filled the dawning sky above Sage Forest. This was the sign for Arrecation to advance into the heart of the forest, toward the Trembling Tree, and location of the Grand Council. As the seven demons made their way from the west, and the second wraithen army closing in from the burning eastern reaches of Sage Forest, Arrecation sealed the last of the Council's exits by advancing from the south. All that lay to the north were the highlands and northern mountains. Only time stood between Arrecation and the domination of all the land…

        Arrecation rode with the speed of the wind into the midst of the forest. By midday he had come upon the Council. He rode slowly toward the four Sages that stood near the Trembling Tree. Xulven stood between Arrecation and the other three sages with his wings spread wide as red flames boiled from his mouth and curled around his teeth and horns above. His growl shuddered the forest as he lowered his head, preparing to strike out toward Arrecation. The dark lord remained motionless upon his steed. From the thickets behind the Trembling Tree came the sound of swift movements. Alrion turned and to his horror saw the limp corpses of Nymur and Ceryl lying before his feet. The dark mist that loomed around the corpses took the shape of seven beings. They each stood staring toward Alrion, awaiting his next move. As quickly as he could, he drew an arrow upon his bow and let it loose toward the demon standing in the front. The arrow burst into flames and dwindled to nothing before it reached its target. Xulven turned in confusion of the sounds. As he turned, his scaled neck became open and unprotected. The demon standing in the front produced a scythe-like weapon and whipped past Alrion and Xulven. He stopped just in front of Arrecation and gave a deep bow as Alrion fell to the ground split in two. Xulven turned to Arrecation as his neck burst open in a gaping wound that soaked the ground in his dark red blood. His body fell to one side as his life faded away. The others approached Arrecation and did the same as the first. From the eastern woods, the wraiths made their way to Arrecation as well. The leader dismounted his horse and bowed in front of Arrecation. When it seemed that the forest had been won, it suddenly became alive. Sounds of war cries came from all around Arrecation, and the trees shook as though they were filled with the forest's inhabitants. Immediately, a voice rang out and all was chaos. Thousands of Elves, Pixies, Dwarves, and Humans fell from the trees and charged upon the dark army from all directions. Three warriors leaped from the trees and landed just in front of Arrecation. Without thought the seven demons leapt forward upon the three, but were suddenly stopped by the loud shout of Arrecation.

        "No! The Three are mine and mine alone," Arrecation commanded. The demons quickly whipped past the three and into the midst of the battle that lie in the thick of the forest. Arrecation dismounted his steed and approached the three warriors that stood bravely before him.

"Sons of the ones who defeated my father… It seems fitting that I destroy the seeds of my father's destructors." Arrecation glanced at Sven, "I see the cowardly face of Syven in thee. A strike from afar toppled him…"

"The coward who destroyed your father and his doings? Far from a coward," Hind said aloud.

        Arrecation turned to Hind, "Hindus… The one who delivered the arrow that killed my father…you will be the first to feel my wrath." He turned and glared toward Lore who was standing ready, "Son of Loraeth no doubt, the one who struck my father in the back. Your time has come to an end as well!"

        Arrecation unsheathed his massive blade and held it before him. Dark flames swam along the adamant blade, nipping at the air as it reached the tip. Immediately, the three were upon him. Sven unleashed a jolt of energy that raced toward Arrecation. He swung his burning blade in a wide arc, deflecting the energy and sending it slamming into Sven and hurling him to the ground. Lore came upon Arrecation and lunged forward with the tip of his blade heading toward Arrecation's stomach. The dark lord quickly parried the blade and glanced Lore in his side. He fell to the ground and began convulsing as the dark poisons of the flames of Perdere surged through his body. Hind raised his bow toward Arrecation, but the lord was upon him too quickly. He leapt forward and took Hind by the throat within his massive grasp. Hind's feet dangled beneath him as Arrecation lifted him off the ground. Arrecation looked up at him with red eyes glaring from within his helm, "Your death has been long awaited, and shan't be delayed any longer…" With this being said, he raised his blade and made a single swipe toward Hind, intending to cleave him in half. Just as the blade struck Hind, a blinding flash of light came from the sky above. An unseen blade met that of Arrecation's and forced him stumbling backwards. Hind fell to the ground as Arrecation's grip ceased. Standing before Arrecation was a powerful warrior dressed in pearly white armor that emitted a soft white aura all around him. A long broadsword was held fast in his right hand. It glowed with immense power and was difficult to look directly upon. He drew his blade forward and held it toward Arrecation.

"I am Norodruin, Keeper of the Second Rune of Eurydel…" he spoke in a solemn voice that was almost comforting.

"You are but one of four, and your soul was lost with that of Tiaren's. A great cost for the purchase of short-lived safety," Arrecation shouted before the warrior could finish speaking…

        The seven demons accompanied by Sacrilus emerged from the forest and charged toward Norodruin. With a quick swipe of his blade, a blinding flash of light engulfed the eight. All but three of the demons exploded into mist and were blown away in the wind. Those who remained stood with dreary bodies as their flesh dripped to the ground. Sacrilus was hurled deep into the surrounding forest by the pummeling force of the light. The three demons stepped forward as though to draw their weapons, but fell to the ground in a heap of black ether that faded into the soil. Just as Norodruin turned, Arrecation had charged upon him. Their blades clashed sending waves of energy pulsing throughout the forest. Glimmering light fused with the black flames and exploded upon the two combatants. Sven, Hind, and Lore were tossed about, as the waves of energy slammed into them. Each was on the brink of death, but the battle continued. Trees fell and were twisted as the power surged around them, pulling and breaking their gnarled roots from deep within the ground. Arrecation leapt upon Norodruin and came down upon his blade from the air. Norodruin was forced to one knee, but held his ground. As the flashing blades clashed, Norodruin began emitting an immense glow that surrounded both himself and Arrecation. With a loud shriek, he thrust his blade upward, knocking Arrecation to the ground before him. Norodruin held the palm of his hand toward Arrecation and unleashed a blinding flash of light. The light tore at Arrecation's tainted body, and heated his armor to the extent that it glowed red. Arrecation was soon engulfed in red flames as his armor continued to break apart. As the first rays of the light pierced the armor, a gust of black flames erupted upon Norodruin. The flames surrounded his body and closed out his blinding glow. They robbed him of air and continued closing in tightly around his body. He was lifted off of the ground as the streams of flame burst from within Arrecation himself. The dark lord stood and stared into the flexing mass of flames with a grim smile upon his face. When the last flicker of Norodruin's light had faded, all seemed lost. The war in the forest had stopped to gaze upon the wicked spectacle. As Arrecation began to laugh at his own extreme power, something began to happen. The mass of flames began to contort and break away. Just as a single glint of light seeped from within the mass, a blinding light engulfed the entire forest. Nothing but an eternity of emptiness could be seen. When the flash had faded, a ghostlike figure that burned brightly loomed above Arrecation. The figure held two strange runes before him. The two gems hovered down toward Arrecation, and positioned themselves on either side of his body.

        Arrecation stood staring toward the figure with a pallid face, "Things are not as they seem, Knight of Eurydel…Elazul has not seen the last of his days…and his brother shall be released from his prison of rune-bound stone…the Blade will find its bearer…"

        In an instant the runes exploded in a mass of fiery power. The black gem struck into Arrecation's body and tore from it his tainted soul. Arrecation's body faded from view as the red rune drew his shadowy essence into its prison walls of crystal. The two runes immediately stopped glowing and fell to the ground where Arrecation once stood. They released one last flicker of light as they settled next to each other. The phantom that hovered above the three fallen warriors began to speak in a godlike voice, "My time has ended, but his has only begun. Receive my power and use it wisely; for if you betray it, it will leave you…" The figure fell to the ground, seeming to crash into the three warriors that lay limp upon the ground. The phantom burst into a brilliant array of lights and colors that flashed around the three warriors. Their wounds suddenly began to mend themselves before the onlookers' eyes. As the light faded, the dead warriors rose to life once more. Their bodies emitted a soft white glow as they rose to their feet. Each stood in awe at the magnificence of their existence. The words of the phantom coursed through their minds as they turned and faced the runes. To the warriors' will, the two runes hovered high above the ground. In a blink of an eye, they hurled themselves away from each other. The black rune cast itself deep into the mists of the Dragon's mountains. The red rune was hurled deep into the mountains of Xalious.

The three destroyed what remained of the Wraithen army and took an oath to uphold the law of the land with the power granted by Norodruin's sacrifice…

The Prophecy of Damnation

        Peace had followed the defeat of Arrecation for seven hundred years. The Dwarven cities were rebuilt and grand halls replaced the old. Xalious villages were built from the ash and thrived. The great city of Cenril became the largest in all the land, and thrived in unmatched wealth. Gualon had become infested with Trolls that had burrowed in the old terraces of the burned villages. It was forever abandoned, and it seemed to be devoured by the swamp itself. Tritan and Nayrul became wealthy cities that bordered the new villages built in Sage Forest. The central area of the Sage Forest villages was given the name of Kelay. The vast area of the Sage Forest that had been destroyed by the flames cast out by the dark army never grew back. It became a vast tainted grassland that occupied a wide area between Cenril and Kelay. The world had been given a new beginning, and in time, the Dark Ages had been forgotten. It was during these times that the land had become most vulnerable. And upon the day of the seven hundredth year of Arrecation's defeat, the location of Nocturin, the black rune, had been found…

        Deep within the mountains of the Dragon's dwellings, a single pearl-white dragon was willed toward the dark power of a glinting stone that lay embedded in the rock in the back of a lightless cavern. The rune flashed ominously as the Dragon approached it slowly. Just as the Dragon reached out to grasp the rune, it tore itself from the wall and hovered in front of him. A strange voice suddenly began speaking from within the rune. It pulsed as it spoke.

"Come to me Kaizer, Kindred of the Dragons. Partake my power and we will rule this land…"

        Kaizer reached for the rune. As his hand touched the rune, it lashed out at him. Bands of mist erupted from within the rune and wrapped themselves around Kaizer's hand. The rune pulled him forward and to the ground beneath it. It slowly planted itself in his scaly palm and sank beneath the flesh so that only the top surface of it remained in view. Kaizer fell back as the rune released its power into his body. He began to quiver as he writhed on the ground. Blood ran from his eyes and fell upon his face. He screamed in agony as his scales turned black and the tainted soul of Arrecation took over his body. The blood that ran from his eyes left them forever stained, burning red in the darkness. Kaizer stood as the last of his memory vanished and took on those of Arrecation. He felt the strong power of the Southern Lands beckoning for him, seeming to call out his name. He turned and left the cave, taking flight to return to the City of the Damned. A single being saw his leaving and became concerned. Solaris, a gray and belligerent Dragon, made his way into the cavern where Kaizer had just left. He quickly headed to the back of the cavern only to find a pool of blood lying upon the floor. He slowly bent down to smell its familiar odor. Just as the tip of his nose touched the pool, the blood burst upon his body. It burned into his scales, turning them red with the flames of Arrecation's blood. As he stood in awe, he began to sense the same overwhelming feeling that Kaizer had; something was drawing him to the South. He quickly made his way out of the cave and dispatched in the direction Kaizer had gone…

        Far into the Mountains of Xalious lay the small village of Baskar. Its inhabitants have been cut off from the world since the red rune, Oberyl, was hidden not too far from the village. Though none of the villagers knew the location of the rune itself, they could feel a disturbing presence in the western downs. All who ventured into the caves got the sense of evil that beckoned them closer toward its dark source. For seven hundred years the people of the village avoided the caves and declared the entering of any cave, forsaken. Upon the seven hundredth year of the rune's binding, its power became overwhelmingly noticed…

        A rebellious warrior of the Baskar Village fell upon its leader, Grotan, pleading to be granted permission to leave the town and journey to the mainland. Grotan shook his head in disapproval for the second time. The young warrior became infuriated toward his leader and struck out at him with his blade drawn. Grotan lashed out with unmatched speed and took the warrior to the ground. He pressed the warrior to the floor with his foot on the blade and his hands clasped on his throat.

        Grotan spoke angrily, "Do not force me to take arms against you, Ilzubale. When you become wise in the ways of peace I will consider your request to leave this village, but until then, you are not worthy of doing so."

        "Release me now," Ilzubale shouted with an almost growling voice. Grotan released his grip and moved back as Ilzubale staggered to his feet. "You have not seen the last of me…father," muttered Ilzubale as he burst his way out of the hut and down the steps. He trudged his way deep into the downs of the west where he had often ventured. Through the starlight above, he continued his descent deeper and deeper into the mountainous region.

        Upon the dawn of the next morning, Ilzubale awoke to find that he had wondered far into areas unknown to himself. He stood and gazed upon the never-ending vastness of the alien lands around him. As he looked about himself in panic, he felt the strong presence of something calling for him. He turned without reason and to his surprise the entrance of a large cave laid just feet from him. He could hear strange voices and sounds of movements within the cave. He stepped closer and stared into the darkness. Immediately he was taken by an unseen force and hurled into the cave. His fingers bled as they dug into the walls of the cave. Despite his strength, he could not stop his descent. Strange scriptures carved deep into the walls of the cave began to flash as he was pulled amidst the torrent of energy. As quickly as it all had started, he found himself standing before a smooth wall at the back of the cave. A single burning crystal flickered in the darkness as it pulled itself from within the wall. It hovered in front of Ilzubale. A blinding flash of light pulsed from within the crystal as it spoke.

"I have a gift for thee, Ilzubale. Receive my strength and you will bear witness to the end of all that is holy…"

        Before Ilzubale could reply, the rune's power sprang upon him. It lifted him above the ground and forced the palm of his hand forward. The rune buried itself deep into his flesh. Bursts of power rushed through Ilzubale's body, flailing him around the cave and slamming him repeatedly into the walls of the cavern. When the last of the rune's power had taken over his body, he stood in the darkness of the cave. The dark blackness of the cave suddenly became bright as though it were the light of the day. Ilzubale shuddered as he held his hand above his head. He cried out as a burst of power erupted from the rune and crashed into the roof of the cave. It broke through and cast megalithic boulders in all directions. The light of the sun broke through the roof of the cave as Ilzubale hovered through the passage. He felt as though the ground and sky were alive and flexing about him. He turned instinctively eastward and headed toward Baskar, leaping from peak to peak along the mountains.

        Ilzubale took to flight just miles from the village. He came into view moments later, hovering high in the air above the town. The people stood in awe as they gazed toward the being. Grotan was summoned to witness the site. Just as he stepped forward he realized his darkest dreams had become reality. Ilzubale glared toward his father as his eyes turned black. He clasped his hands as bolts of lightening began to flex and burst around him in the sky. They whipped out and slammed into the ground, gouging deep ruts and destroying many of the villagers' homes. From the midst of the chaos, a blade of flame formed within Ilzubale's hands. He fell to the earth and stood in front of his father who now seemed feeble and weak in comparison. Without speaking, Grotan drew his blade forward and lunged toward Ilzubale. The flaming blade broke though Grotan's, leaving it shattered upon the ground. Ilzubale leaped forward and sent his blade though Grotan's chest. His flesh burned and cracked from the heat of the flames. Grotan stood motionless, staring deep into Ilzubale's eyes. Ilzubale lifted his hand, forcing the blade up through Grotan's chest and stopping in the center of his throat. Grotan's body lifted from the ground leaving his legs hanging limp beneath him. Ilzubale spun around and cleaved Grotan's head off as his body fell to the ground. His head rolled to a stop as Ilzubale leaped into the sky once more. Before the villagers had understood what had happened among the chaos, the entire town burst into flames, leveling it along with all its inhabitants…

        Ilzubale split the sky with the shrieks of the dark banshee. The entire world was awakened to his fell cries of anger. He ventured over the Sage Forest, as though wanting to awaken the three. As Ilzubale's shadow passed over the ground, the tainted bodies of the undead rose from their graves began wreaking havoc on the living beings of the land. Within a matter of moments, Ilzubale was upon the City of Nayrul. Mounted soldiers rode out to meet the intruder. Their horses fell back as Ilzubale's deafening cries struck terror into the warriors' hearts. Ilzubale fell to the center of the town and began an onslaught upon those who came to him. Before long the entire city was abandoned. Those who stayed and fought lay upon the ground in mangled heaps of flesh and bone. Ilzubale's carnage soon fell upon the City of Tritan. Many of the warriors had already been slain by the undead before Ilzubale arrived. He cast out the flames of Perdere upon the city, burning its people alive. Ilzubale turned and charged into the depths of Sage Forest…

        Sven, Hind, and Lore, who had long since made the efforts of keeping an army ready for times such as these, gathered themselves and proceeded to meet the enemy enclosing from the north. Undead creatures lurked about the forest and randomly attacked as the three progressed. Each seemed to glow brighter and brighter as they approached the evil of Arrecation. They marched north for less than an hour before the Enemy were upon them. Immediately the rangers unleashed a pummeling wave of arrows upon the vast army of the undead. Their rotted bones burst as the tips of the arrows slammed into them. Mangled corpses of decaying flesh littered the ground all about them. The army proceeded forward into the midst of the corpses in search of the one. When they broke though the forces and found no sign of the warrior, they stood in silence, awaiting his appearance. Victory seemed to be theirs as they gazed upon the limp corpses of the undead. Without warning a chilling shriek pulsed from under the ground. Immediately the undead sprang upon the army and tore at their bodies from all directions. Mages lashed out with magical power toward the undead but seemed to kill more of their own than that of the enemy. Amidst the confusion the rangers shot arrows in all directions, failing to kill any of the undead. The arrows simply passed through their skeleton bodies to strike another ranger on the other side. Ilzubale burst from beneath the ground between the three. A pulse of energy followed that toppled them to the ground. Ilzubale stood motionless with a grim smile on his face.

        In a dark voice he spoke, "I have taken three cities in less than a day's span. Now you shall feel my wrath that has been imprisoned for seven hundred years…"

        Lore came to his feet and charged toward Ilzubale. The dark warrior unsheathed a burning blade and met that of Lore's. He quickly took Lore by the throat and hurled him into Hind who was standing with an arrow ready. Lore slammed into Hind, knocking them both to the ground. Hind's arrow struck Sven who was in the middle of casting a powerful spell. Hind brandished a rapier and charged beside Lore. Ilzubale's blade fell upon the rapier, shattering it. He turned to his left and planted his foot into Lore's chest. With a quick movement, he kicked Lore to the ground and held him with his weight. He turned and faced Hind. With a single gesture, he swung his blade in a wide arc heading toward Hind's neck. Before the blade met his flesh, a blinding pulse of light slammed into Ilzubale. Hind was thrown back to the ground near his bow. He stood with an arrow ready as he saw Sven standing with his hand held outward toward Ilzubale; a strand of silver smoke arose from his palm. Hind turned to Ilzubale as he slowly stood and began his evil laughter. Hind let loose a golden arrow that stuck Ilzubale in the heart. As he reached to remove it, Lore struck him from behind, cleaving his head from his body. Ilzubale fell to the ground, slicing the rune from his hand with his own blade. His body burst into flames and burned to nothing but ash in a matter of moments. The rune hovered above the ground just in front of the three.

        "Prophecies have decided the fate of my return, and when I do, I shall come as three. It is then that you will witness our power at it's fullest…your fate lies with four runes never to be reunited…" the orb spoke as it pulsed violently. From the midst of the chaos, a shrouded ranger rushed upon Oberyl. "Come to me Rudra, Kindred of the Eternal Forests…" The orb lashed out and possessed him in front of the three saviors. Just as Sven raised his hand toward Rudra, two great beasts fell upon him from above. The giant hand of Kaizer fell upon Sven and Hind, pinning them to the ground. Solaris's tail wrapped around Lore and lifted him off the ground. Both their eyes burned with the power of Arrecation. Tainted blood fell from Kaizer as he leaned over the two who were held beneath him.

"And the prophecies shall prove to be correct," he growled.

Solaris immediately continued, "For I stand before you as three, but one…"

        Rudra leaped upon Solaris' back as Kaizer released the wounded Sven and Hind from his grasp. The two took to the air and headed to the tainted lands of the south. Those who followed them, without the consent of saviors, crossed the nameless desert and into the Forest of the Undead. As they ventured through the forest, the trees lashed out at them, tearing at their flesh with the thorns and brambles of their limbs. As the warriors journeyed deeper into the forest, they were plagued by the Shrakken. Giant spiders fell from the tops of the trees upon the unsuspecting warriors. They sank their poison fangs deep into the soft flesh of the warriors and pulled them into their webs upon thick strands of silk. Before long, nearly all of the warriors were left bound in the webs of the Shrakken. Those who survived broke through the forest and came upon the three who possessed the power of Arrecation. From within a deep cavern, came the tormented souls of the dead. They lashed out and took hold of the warriors who pursued the Avatars, and pulled them into the chasms of Perdere, never to be seen again…

* * * * *

        Not long after the defeat of Ilzubale, a druid of the Sage Forest came forward with a scroll that was buried deep beneath the roots of the Trembling Tree. The three read the scroll and remained silent as the horror of reality had come to them…

'By sea came the bearer of the blade

To a land long since hollow of evils

Darkness befell this unholy warrior

Shrouding the land of all its piety

Five came and sought his destruction

Four returned with four seals of evil

The fifth remained forever with the blade

Devoid of emotion he was lost in lament

And the way to Perdere was lost with the blade

Returning the sanctity to those of light

If ever the blade were to be disturbed

The way to Perdere would inevitably be opened

And the bearer shall wield the blade once more…'

The Oracle

        The ragged silhouette of a man was cast upon the walls of oaken wood. The mundane glow of the candlelight waved its warm pulses of light upon the walls of the small study. The old man gripped his quill and hurriedly began documenting spattered notes of what it was he had dreamt just moments ago during a short slumber.

“His face was like no other…Pallid flesh that held two crimson orbs within his dark cloak…His scalding grip of death upon my flesh…No!”

        The man stopped suddenly and began to breath shaken breaths of the chilled air of night. His hands quivered and blotches of dark red ink fell upon his paper. He paused for a moment and stared deep into the inkwell that sat just beside his hand. It was well rounded and had a brown luster upon it. Ink filled it to the very rims and at times overflowed onto this desk leaving dark splotches of the color…blue.

        Suddenly all became silent; all that could be heard was the quickened beats of the old man’s heart. Two heavy footsteps came from the outside and jarred the floor beneath his feet. Silence followed for a brief moment as the man gazed in horror toward the wooden door. Without warning the door slowly pushed open and filled the air with a slow, dull creak. All that stood in the doorway was darkness enveloping the stars high above the dark horizon in the distance. The man took a sigh of relief as the door slowly shifted side to side in the wind. He stood slowly and walked to the edge of the door. He slowly glanced out of his study to the left and then to the right. He took another sigh of relief as he stepped back and latched the wooden door shut. He turned toward his desk and there before him stood that which he had dreamed… It was a huge figure nearly twice the size of himself. A black cape flowed about his back and in the darkness a small glint of light reflected from the hilt of a blade that lay fast at his side. His body was covered in blackened armor that seemed to cast a crimson glow without the aid of light. The old man fell back against the door and burst into a fit of rage.

        “Why do you haunt me so? What have I done to enrage the Gods? I deserve not these vile incantations of that which has happened and of what will come!”

        A fell voice flowed from within the cloak of the stranger, “Balzeph… Indeed I have found thee at last. If what is said is true of thee, you surely know what I have come for…” The figure stooped in the shadows and, for a moment, sat in complete silence. “Once before I came for thee, but it seemed I came far too soon, for prophecies tell nothing of time…” After what seemed an eternity is voice spoke once more, “You know well of who I am?”

“You, you’re the son of the Dark One… I care not to speak thy unholy name!”

“You shall many times before the end of this eve, Balzeph.”

“It can’t be. The dreams do not foretell of your coming this soon! The runes have been separate for a thousand years! It cannot be true that you have united with your full self, Arrecation!”

“Perhaps all that you see in your dreams are not as they truly are, but that is not why I am here…”

“Nay… And I will not tell thee what it is you seek! The way to Khasad will die with me, Dark Lord!”

        “It seems you have forgotten the horrors you have witnessed in thy dreams…” The figure raised his hand and immediately Balzeph burst into flames. He stood and flailed about his study, but nothing caught flame nor did his flame subside. His body fell to the figure's feet, wrought in dead flesh that the flames had devoured.

        “You will tell me of all that you have witnessed over the seven years of your visions, Balzeph. The offer will be one that you cannot refuse. I care not of your life or any of the lives of your family. I need not the information you hold from me for all it will do is hasten that which will eventually come true. I will cast your children and their children’s children into the depths of Perdere where they will suffer just as you are now for the rest of their existence in this realm. Now, I shall partake thy visions at once…”

        The figure slowly raised his hand once more and the flames fell from Balzeph. In a moment his scorched flesh became fresh as it was before. The old man slowly stood and wobbled back to his seat aside from the dark figure that remained lost in the shadows.

        “I shall show thee…” Balzeph nodded and slumped in his seat as if a great burden was upon him. He reached forward and took a leather bound book and set it before him. He unwrapped the sinew strand from about the book’s edges and opened it hesitantly. He glanced quickly toward the silent figure and then to his book…

“It all began seven years ago…

        I knew not what had come upon me in my slumber that day, but I knew it was something not meant for mortal eyes. Five figures came to me in my sleep. Each was clad in what could only be described as the light itself. They shimmered as great angels as they fell to the land from above. They pointed far below them and I could see four lands that lay separate of each other by a vast sea that intertwined between them. The first of the lands I saw was black and horrid. Great forests lay in flames, as did the once beautiful villages that surrounded a magnificent castle. From amidst the castle came one solitary being. He stood upon the highest tier of the castle and stared far into the distance of his tainted land. In his right hand he bore a blade like no other I had ever seen in existence. It flexed and distorted as the wind blew about it. Blackened flames burst from the blade and swirled about the figure’s body and high and far about him. The blade pulsed as though it were alive. Suddenly the figure fell from his land and came upon the second. This land was pure as virgin snow before his defiled presence became known. His power stretched out from the blade and destroyed the land in its entirety. Not a soul remained in that barren land. I felt as though he was searching for something that was unknown to himself and the world about him. I was not shown what it was he sought, but that mattered not…

        It was then that he turned to the third of the lands; the greatest of all the lands in size, Eurydel they called it… the five angels who showed me these signs fell to the earth and took me with them. I fell to the cold ground and glanced up upon the skies above me. They filled with shrieks of strange creatures that flew amidst the five warriors. Great bolts of lightening shook the land as thousands of corpses fell from the sky and burst upon the ground below. It was then that the dark figure stepped forth bearing his dark blade. The five fell upon him but were pummeled away by the power of the blade. The dark power pulsed through the land and devoured all that it touched. The great cities of Eurydel fell to the ground and nearly all of its holy inhabitants were slain. He took to the sky and fell upon the last of the four great lands. The last of the lands to remain hollow of his evils…

        He stepped upon the shores of Senal and raised his dark blade to the north. Before the blade released its power for a fourth time, it was met by the blade of the strongest of the five warriors. The glistening blade of the angel burst as it met the dark blade. The angel grasped the rune that hung about his neck and shrieked as it crumbled in his hand. His body faded from existence and left nothing but a burning essence standing before the dark figure. It lashed out at the blade and grasped it; binding its darkness with the pure soul of the angel. The dark figure laughed as he swung the blade toward the north once more. Its dark power remained concealed within the blade and failed to do his bidding. The four remaining angels fell upon him and quickly severed his hand from the blade. The dark figure’s body exploded into a torrent of flames that seeped into the ground beneath him. The blade fell to the ground as its darkness faded. I stood and watched as the four left with the blade.

        I followed as they traveled across the jungles of Crius and into the vast forest of the eternals. They came to a stop before a magnificent tree that stood above all the rest. The four turned and stared deep into my soul as I suddenly woke from the dream…”

        The dark figure glanced upon Balzeph as he fumbled with the pages of his scriptures. He sat in silence for a moment before speaking, “Tiaren has many tricks it seems. More than he could have expected… But the location of the Blade was not long lost to us. Continue your tales…”

        Balzeph spoke of many things during the course of the eve; the tales of Khasad and Elazul’s defeat and of the coming of Arrecation and the Wraithen kind. He spoke of Arrecation’s awakening and how he came to the land as three. Balzeph paused for a moment as he closed the book of his accounts. He quickly grasped the book and cast it aside. It slammed against the wall and fell to the floor.

“That is all I know,” he spoke in an angered tone.

        The figure stood and glared toward him as his concealed eyes gave a dull pulse of crimson. “You seem troubled Balzeph… You should be. My patience has grown ill with you. Speak of the location of Khasad’s crypt. I will not ask thee again. I shall cast thy family into the pits of Perdere beginning with your youngest of daughters.” The figure smiled grimly toward Balzeph as it slowly sat down once more.

“It will do no good! If I tell you of Khasad’s location, all of this land will suffer as you have threatened me!” Balzeph pleaded.

“Nay, those who stand with us will not suffer his wrath. But you my friend are already damned. What now lies in your hands are the fates of those you love…”

Balzeph fell to his knees and gasped as a tear boiled down his cheek, “Very well…may the Gods have mercy upon all our souls…”

        The figure looked to his side and glanced at the book from which Balzeph had read. It slowly raised from the floor and fell before the old man who was grieving in lament. Balzeph shunned the book aside and stood with a glare toward the dark figure.

        “I need not to look upon its leaves for I know it by heart… The four came to me not long ago and gave tell of their seven day journey. They crossed the great mountains of Xalious upon the third day of travel. They came upon a land beyond the Western Gate; a land that no mortal of this land, save the ancient Dwarves old, have ever laid eyes upon. Strange and wonderful things lay about this mysterious land that not even I could have imagined ever to exist. They fell south some ten leagues from the base of the mountains and came upon a great lake that encircled a small patch of land. They crossed the placid water and fell upon a gate that opened only at the sound of words, which I myself do not know. From here they traveled two days into the land and bound Khasad within his eternal vault…”

        The figure stood and laughed toward Balzeph. “Good, good indeed. I know of this land, but I never felt they would travel to into its unknown depths. Brave indeed even for those of that kind of power…” The figure walked toward Balzeph and came to a stop as he leaned over his body and spoke in a grave tone, “And now my friend, you know what is to come of you…”

“Have mercy, Arrecation!”

        The figure grinned for a moment. “Child, I am not Arrecation…” With this being said the figure reached forward and touched Balzeph on the forehead. His body burst into flames that slowly devoured his writhing body. The figure laughed as he left the study and vanished into the still of the night…

The Awakening

        Amidst the chill of night a shadowed figure stood before an ancient gate that lay hidden in a mound of earth within the murky waters of a dead lake. The wind was still, choked of its breath as it fell dead upon the water. Just above the surface of the lake a dank mist loomed, eating its way through the still of the night. For some time the figure stood at the circular gate without sound or movement. Suddenly the figure raised its hand and all fell quiet. Slowly a sliver of crimson light swirled about the figure's hand and made it's way toward the surface of the gate. The black adamant of the gate sputtered and hissed as the light flowed about it. The figure's hand fell and the light faded. Beneath the ground a sudden rumble shuddered and the land quaked for a slight moment. Suddenly a piercing cry came from within the cloak of the figure as it fell upon the gate. The adamant crumbled before the figure's blow and sent and ripple through the ground that forced the waters of the lake far upon the land about it. With haste the figure vanished into the gaping hole that had once been sealed...

        A vast chamber lay beneath land at the end of the sealed tunnel. The air was thick and dank, filled with a crimson haze. Upon its ancient walls were crude glyphs and runes that glimmered softly with a pale white luster. In the center of the room stood a slab of stone that was wide at the base and quickly narrowed to a point at the top. Ragged chains emerged from the surface of the stone and fell to a mass that was bound to its front. Just in front of the stone there stood a massive door of wood, bound in iron and adamant. Suddenly a sliver of light edged its way through the seam of the doorway and pierced into the impenetrable darkness that loomed about the sanctuary. As the light vanished the door from which it came slowly creaked open. There standing in its archway stood the cloaked figure whose eyes now flashed in a pale crimson glow. As the light passed through the doorway, it fell upon the runes on the walls and they too came to life. Their deep carvings filled with the new light and illuminated the sanctuary, revealing the rotted corpse that rested against the stone slab. It's flesh was dark and hung loosely about its withered bones. It reeked of newly rotting flesh though it looked to have been dead for thousands of years. As the cloaked figure made its way toward the corpse a cold whisper fell from his lips.

"At last, my brother, I have found thee..."

        As he spoke the corpse slowly raised its head and looked upon him from within the dark cavities of his skull. The figure raised his hand toward the corpse as he had done to the gate above ground. The walls of the sanctuary quivered as the chains burst from about the corpse letting it fall to its knees before the figure.

        A pale glow grew within the voids of its skull as it raised its head toward the figure and spoke, "Elazul...long have I awaited your coming. I assume by your arrival that my relic has been recovered and the Blade is to be released from its bonds?"

        Elazul stood silent for a moment, staring toward Khasad who lay in ruin before him. At length he spoke, "Nay...the power my son held over the three has failed for they have become powerful at his cost. There is a strange power among the mortals of this realm that the prophecies speak nothing of. I fear that Xaen has failed to forever seal those who lie in slumber. Indeed, there is something growing among the mortals that I cannot conceive..."

"I see...tell me brother, of the will of our master and of his actions in my absence."

        "Not many years after your capture I returned to the land of the living and made my way to the refuge city of Cenril. There I came to see what it was that I had feared: Norodruin had remained awake. I had made haste before the prophecy had come to be. It is then that I returned to Perdere and remained in waiting. My son, Arrecation, grew restless and ventured deep into our forsaken realm to speak with the one. When he returned he brought word of his orders to seek out the Endless Stair, temple of the Blade, and bind it within our rule. As I expected, Norodruin interfered. He was unaware that my son's power was equal to that of his own, and in the end, he sacrificed his soul in order to seal Arrecation. For seven hundred years I waited for his return. Upon the day of his arrival he came as three who bore his essence and power within their bodies. I bent them to my will and released him from within the runes. It is then that we cast the three back into the world under the control of my son to seek out the relic that was taken from you. My son's attempts have failed and the three that he held under his power have grown to such strengths that he can no longer overcome them with his mind. That is when I felt it was once again my time to seek out your tomb, and now I stand before you..."

        "So it has come to be... We will no longer take refuge within the boundaries of our false realm. Nay, we will roam this land until we find what was taken and break down the doors to the Endless Stair. I can feel the torment of our master as we speak. He beckons to rejoin with the Seven so that he may walk the land once more...but without the Blade there is naught he can do. Come, let us leave this wretched hole and make haste toward the land of the Endless Stair..."

        As Khasad's words fell from within his gaping mouth he pushed himself to his feet and stood before Elazul. His rotting flesh swayed from side to side as his bones cracked and littered the floor with small splinters. Suddenly a pale green glow formed from within Khasad's body and glimmered through the bones and broken patches of flesh. As the light grew brighter, the flesh about his body began to draw itself about him until it completely concealed the burning light. The flesh crawled about his skullish face until it covered the blackened bone and bore two crimson eyes within its sockets. Khasad stood tall before his brother as his strength of old returned to his mended corpse. Elazul bowed and held before him a sheathed blade that bore the markings of the dark realm. Khasad's eyes glimmered as he received the blade and placed it at his side. Without speaking, the two passed through the archway and made haste through the winding passage...

        As the sun fell upon the western horizon it cast two fell shadows upon the village of Kelay. The pale clouds quickly grew dark and vicious as the last glimmer of the western sun's glare was devoured by the darkness of the two that stood on the edge of the city. As the two steped forward along the paths of Kelay, the storm above them unleashed its wrath, snapping the trees in unnatural tempests and beating the ground in relentless waves of rain. The two walked untouched by the fury of the storm through the seemingly empty village. No lamp or light could be seen anywhere about them except for the yellow glimmer of light emitting from the window of a tavern that stood to their left...

        Suddenly the door of the tavern burst open and bore two grim silhouettes standing in its archway. All fell silent in the tavern as the two stepped forward. The wooden rafters scorched beneath the silent steps of the cloaked figures as they entered and stood before the mass of the tavern. Their eyes gleamed as two large figures turned and faced them from the back of the tavern. Their scale-covered bodies remained motionless as the piercing eyes of the demons stared toward them unblinking.

        Khasad slowly pulled back his cloak and revealed a pallid face that bore a grim smile, "So at last we meet again, crusaders of Crius..." Khasad's eyes fell upon Kaizer and Solaris who remained motionless in the shadows of the tavern. At length he spoke, "Do you not bow to those you serve?"

Kaizer and Solaris remained still, taking no heed of Khasad's words.

        Elazul slowly pulled back his cloak and stood staring toward the two, "I see...yes...I see what it is you are thinking. You have broken the will of my son and now you think you can stand against his elders. You have become foolish behind your newly gained powers, and you have forgotten the power of those whom you serve..."

        Kaizer turned his glance toward Elazul and spoke, "I have forgotten nothing of your darkness and how it plays with the lives of mortals and immortals alike..."

"Then you know well of the consequences that stand before you," said Khasad.

"Indeed we do," Solaris muttered. "But no longer do we serve your purpose as dogs to their masters."

        "Silence, fools! You have no choice in the matters that concern you. Your souls will be cast before the One so that you may suffer his eternal wrath. You are the reason for the delay of his awakening, and you will be the ones who pay for such debts. You know of my relic and of its location, but you have resisted Arrecation's will and kept the knowledge for yourselves. There is no where else to run, no more time to bide, and no one else to turn to. Norodruin has passed his power to three pathetic mortals who know little of how to use it. That was his most grave mistake, for now the three remaining Angels lie sealed in slumber for their corpses have been slain by Xaen. Never again will they walk as once before. Nay, they will have no choice but to pass on their power to a mortal that hasn't the discipline to wield it. Now we stand before you with no barriers in our midst. I will break your mind and learn of what it is you keep hidden!"

        Kaizer suddenly brandished a grotesque scythe and leaped upon Khasad. Khasad's grasp fell upon the scythe and shattered before Kaizer. Quickly he lunged forward and took hold of Kaizer's snout. With little effort he heaved Kaizer to the floor of the tavern and drew his blade. A black flame swam from its hilt along the jagged blade and to the tip where it bit viciously at the air. With one fell blow from the blade, Kaizer's body fell to the tavern floor. Khasad turned to Solaris and tossed the head before him. As Khasad's back was turned, Kaizer's corpse suddenly burst open, littering the tavern with flesh and bone. From amidst the corpse a blackened entity rose and lashed out upon Khasad. The entity quickly seeped through his flesh and vanished within his body. A fell cry erupted from Khasad's mouth as he fell to his knees and began to shake uncontrollably.

        Elazul stepped back from Khasad as his hands fell quickly upon the hilt of his blade. From the corner of his eye he caught the grotesque image of Solaris' corpse, splitting along its stomach and spilling its intestines about the tavern floor. From within the corpse rose a fell shadow that came upon Elazul before he could counter. Its blackened essence forced its way into Elazul's body and hurled him to the ground.

        Khasad slowly stood and muttered in a voice much like that of Kaizer's, "The One cannot be allowed to bear the Blade for it will be the end of all life, good or vile..." The voice suddenly changed to a fell rasp of hatred, "You cannot contain me forever, mortal. I will tear at your soul from within until at last I have devoured you and your false hopes!" The voice lowered once more and spoke sternly, "You are no longer the master of this tomb, for it is I, Kaizer, who walks with thee for all times to come. I have spent thousands of years preparing for this moment, and I will not be overcome by your vileness. Come now and rest within your new tomb..." Kaizer now stood before the tavern within the body of Khasad, two souls within one tomb. He quivered as he approached Elazul's corpse and stood silently above it. At length he spoke, "Come Solaris, we are not yet safe to stand among the innocent. Let us take leave until we can contain our burdens..." As the words left his tainted lips he knelt down and lifted his brother from the floor and slowly left the tavern, vanishing into the stormy night...

The Sealing of Kaizer

        Alvarius shouted to Kaizer, "Where are you coward?!?! Come to the tavern! I challenge you to a death duel! I shall get my revenge!"

Kaizer shouted to Alvarius, "A death duel you say? You would dare defy your leader? Very well..."

Kaizer said to Alvarius, "What is it you despise of me?"

Malgous raises a brow to Kaizer and Alvarius.

Alvarius said to Kaizer, "You killed my family, then you try to raise me as your own! Do you think me as your fool? You shall pay!"

Alvarius glares at Kaizer across the tavern looming in the murky shadows.

        Alvarius' eyes rage a dark red with the color of blood. As his stare strengthens, the aroma of blood fills the room causing a sickening feeling to any mortal. Alvarius with one quick motion throws his arms forward toward Kaizer’s direction. The tavern walls shake as Kaizer is lifted from his feet and pinned against the wooden walls...

        Kaizer remains motionless as the strange force hurls him against the tavern wall. The aged wood begins to crack and splinter as his scaly body is pushed deeper into the grain. Kaizer's eyes suddenly brighten as his body slowly edges out of the impression in the wall. His feet dangle beneath him as he hovers forward, against the force of Alvarius' attack. With a simple gesture, Kaizer flecks his hand toward Alvarius and a torrent of wind is sent raging back at him...

        Alvarius turns his head and raises his hands, shielding himself from the raging winds. He turns his glance toward Kaizer and catches sight of a table hurling its way toward him. Alvarius forces his heel deep into the floor of the tavern and braces himself. The table tumbles end over end before landing against Alvarius. With a soft whisper, Alvarius places his palm against the table. It suddenly splits and shatters in the midst of the opposing forces. The splints of wood ignite into a snarling flame that tears across the tavern, headed in Kaizer's direction...

        Kaizer remains unmoved as the flames rage toward him, devouring the tavern as they approach. Kaizer's mouth suddenly gapes open, and his serpent-like tongue flicks madly at the air. The flames boil into his mouth as he steps back against the wall of the tavern and takes them in. His body contorts as the flames rapidly vanish within him. Kaizer regains his stature as two slivers of smoke curl from within his nostrils...

Kaizer said to Alvarius, "You don't understand..."

Xaen steps into the tavern and bows gracefully to Kaizer.

Kaizer turns his attention to Xaen as he lowers his head and speaks, "Xaen."

Xaen smiles grimly.

Xaen said to Kaizer, "So we meet again and you know why I have come."

Alvarius said to Kaizer, "how am I not suppost to understand? You killed my family! You are a murderer, you will die by my hands!"

        Kaizer shakes his head at Alvarius and turns his attention back to Xaen. " Yes, how could I not know ... I take it you have already reclaimed by brother ... that means Elazul has already been released..."

Malgous said to Xaen, "I trust your time in Perdere has been...pleasant."

Kaizer turns away from Xaen and stares into the shadows of the tavern.

Alvarius said to Xaen, "Whatever you want with Kaizer will have to wait. His death will come by my blade, and no other!"

Xaen said to Alvarius, "Little boy, you are meddling in affairs that do not concern you. I do not care for the lives of your family, for it is a fate that everyone will face in the end. Perdere does not wish to rule this land ... it only wishes for its destruction.."

Alvarius said to Xaen, "You sicken me!"

        Xaen suddenly reaches forward and places the tip of his finger against Alvarius’ forehead. The flesh about his finger darkens and begins to crumble as the life fades from Alvarius’ body. Xaen retracts his finger from the withered corpse and turns his attention back to Kaizer. "He was a friend of yours, I imagine. It is a shame you had to slaughter his family, but he now knows the truth. As he burns in Perdere he will learn that you died the very instant Arrecation called to you hardly a comforting thought as the fires gorge themselves on his soul..."

        Kaizer said to Xaen, "You of all the others, I considered you to be the wisest. You fell from Praemia out of spite and jealousy, but you are not the same as the others. You know your ways are wrong, but you still allow your hate to blur your judgment. You only betrayed yourself by locking away the three remaining Angels."

        Xaen said to Kaizer, "You know nothing of betrayal. I admit it is our pride that brought us to such a place in time, but knowing our actions are wrong will not change anything. The unnamed one will not ask Praemia for forgiveness, and my honor to his judgment will not falter. This realm will be torn apart, and there is nothing you can do."

Arrecation laughs in an unnerving voice, "I should think not, Xaen."

Kaizer looks to the floor of the tavern as his fist tightens its grip.

Arrecation said to Kaizer, "Can’t you see, fool? You are only slowing the inevitable."

Kaizer said to Arrecation, "With my last bit of breath I will fight you ... even if it is only to slow the inevitable..."

        Arrecation said to Kaizer, "Come, child, you already imprison the soul of a being greater than even you could imagine. I even wonder if you could have held your own against that boy. But enough of that, I have come to reclaim Khasad."

Kaizer said to Arrecation, "Then come, and reclaim him."

        Arrecation reaches above his shoulder and pulls a massive blade from within its sheath. A blue flame ignites at its hilt and swims along to the tip, licking hungrily at air the about it.

        Kaizer suddenly laughs. He turns to Arrecation and smiles as his eyes blacken and his figure begins to distort. "I have learned much from Khasad, my friend. From his soul I have taken enough power to change the inevitable that you claim is absolute..."

Arrecation said to Kaizer, "Well then, show me what you’ve learned ... "

        Kaizer leaps toward Arrecation as he brandishes a jagged scythe. He rushes past and stops, suddenly pulling back on the scythe. Its tip strikes Arrecation in the back, but only shatters against his armor"

        Arrecation turns to his left and hurls the back of his fist into Kaizer’s head; the sounds of bone shattering echo though the tavern. "I find you even more pathetic than when you were mortal..." Arrecation slowly raises his blade above Kaizer’s scaly neck and laughs as the flames grow more intense, yearning for the taste of blood. The blade suddenly falls in a blurred arch as it hisses toward its victim.

        Kaizer remains motionless as the blade makes its way upon him. Suddenly, the flames roar past and the blade tears though the floor of the tavern, narrowly missing him. Arrecation rises from the floor of the tavern as he drops his blade and dangles helplessly from Kaizer’s tail; the jagged scales tear their way deep into his neck as his grip tightens. Kaizer stands and faces Xaen, "And now, to repay my debt to this land, I will undo your curse..." Kaizer wraps his left hand about Xaen’s neck and lifts him from the tavern floor.

Xaen ’s eyes close as he whispers to Kaizer, "Do what you must..."

Arrecation struggles as he shouts at Xaen, "You...you have betrayed us!"

        Kaizer lunges his hand deep into Xaen’s chest, splitting the bones as his talons push deeper. A blackish blood burgles from within Xaen as Kaizer pulls his hand from inside his chest. Three small jewels glimmer beneath the tainted blood that soils them. Kaizer hands the jewels to Jade as he whispers softly, "You must find three warriors who will bear their burdens and face the wrath of Perdere...farewell, my love..."

        Arrecation shrieks in a piercing cry that shudders the tavern, "You cannot hold me forever, child. This realm will not live to see the rebirth of the Angels..."

        Kaizer tightens his grip about Arrecation’s neck, silencing his hatred. The floor of the tavern begins to crack as the rafters split and fall into a growing crevice. The earth tears apart beneath Kaizer, ripping a wound that falls into the depths of Perdere. Kaizer looks to the skies as he draws in a deep breath, "With my first breath, I cursed thee Lithrydel , and now with my last I beg of thee for forgiveness, for your realm is no longer Hollow of the evils that taint the world..." As the words died from Kaizer’s lips, the flames of Perdere boiled from within the earth and tore him from the embrace of the mortal realm, reclaiming him to the fires of eternity...

Xaka yelps and jumps to her feet, backing away from the hole in the tavern floor.

        Faith glances from face to face in the tavern and mutters under her breath. "This is a night none of us will forget until the day we die."

The Writings of the Chronicler Saeed

        In these scrolls, I, Saeed, a Chronicler of the Desert Tribes, have recorded what I understand to be the last days of Solaris, a Dark God, in the land of the mortalkind. Some of what I write has been what I have gathered from others, while the rest is what was granted to me in vision. Some of it is in great detail while other parts are not, but I have represented the events in their entirety to the best of my ability. My only prayer left is that now with my knowledge available for all, I may finally rest with ease and sleep without the disturbances and dark dreams that have as of late filled my mind. Take heed to the lessons contained within that further mistakes are not made, and may you all go in peace for the rest of your long days.

Scroll I: The Tavern

        None but those involved shall ever know what sparked that night to be written of in many scrolls such as this one. The commotion around Kelay Tavern would have been a common one, except for that this night, it had been the chosen place for Elazul to once again disrupt the peace in the land of the Hollow. There was once a terrible and powerful Dread Lord called Solaris that terrorized the land under the influence of the Dark Immortals, but he had overcome their tyranny and began to fight against them, just as the champion he had once been in days that only the Immortals could now remember. After the self-inflicted death of Solaris and his elven wife, Ciadra, Elazul had been set free as an unintended consequence, and believed himself invincible against the population of the land. The people feared his coming and feared to sigh relief even in his going, troubled that he might return. But this night, within the walls of Kelay Tavern, an unthinkable event was about to occur.

        It began with the sudden arrival of Kaizer, a powerful yet Fallen God. Behind him followed a Dark Wanderer in the spitting image of the old, wearing a dark, shadowed cloak that hid all but the faint outline of a golden mask which covered the entire face of the one who wore it, save for the eyes. Elazul had stopped tormenting the inhabitants of the popular tavern the moment he had felt the presence of the two who had entered even drawing near, and had patiently awaited their arrival. The eyes of those who had dared to venture into the tavern that night stayed low to their tables and drinks as they hoped not to be noticed by Elazul, or the two that had entered and now stood facing him. Then, as Kaizer smirked and took a seat, the aroma of the Wanderer caught up to him, filling the room with a familiar scent of roses. The people raised their heads in awe and remembered the fallen hero born of malice and hatred that had once held the evil of Elazul at bay. The Wanderer lifted his head towards Elazul so that two golden eyes might glow through the mask and darkness of the hood, radiating warmth for all who beheld them. Their spirits uplifted, the people of the tavern heard not the words spoken by the two as they began to grapple, nor as the hooded figure summoned forth the fabled Dark Scythe, torn from the hands of Winzain, in a long and terrible war that had thrown the flying cities of the Avians from the skies and caused them to pummel the earth below. The people of Kelay sat unmoved while the Tavern was yet again brought down around them from the battle. As the elven body that Elazul inhabited spewed forth a black flame that devoured the cloak of the Wanderer, the man removed his golden mask revealing pale, tattooed flesh and flowing, white hair. As the rest of the cloak burned away, Solaris stretched his wings as far as he could and stood upright once again. The soulstone revealed to be hanging from a silver chain around his neck was quickly clutched in his hand and driven towards Elazul with a force that only one who had been touched by the Immortals could achieve. The elvish body Elazul had been using quickly decayed into nothing as the soul of the Dark Immortal was contained in the mighty jewel that Solaris placed once more around his neck, prepared to take the burden with him to a far away land. The flesh that came into contact with the red stone smoked as it burned and sizzled.

        The wings of the avian folded nicely against his back as he placed a new cloak similar to the last over his shoulders to hide them. He looked to his brother Kaizer and bowed deeply for what only he knew to be the last time and then replaced the golden mask. A few words of warmth and love were spoken towards the Fallen God, though none there remember exactly what they were, for the shock of the event had caught them all off guard. With that, Solaris, once known as General Shaelus-Khar of the Royal Avian Empire, walked back out into the night air of the world, the only sound he made being the light jingle of the chain around his neck that held the soulstone fashioned for him by those who rule the underworld. His attitude was a solemn one in the wake of his victory, for he knew that Elazul’s children, the vampires, would seek him to the ends of the earth in order to free their dark father. The people paid no heed to this as they sat for a moment, unable to comprehend what had just exactly taken place. They began to turn to where Kaizer had been sitting in order to ask questions and find answers, but he had already gone and was by now half the distance back to his throne in the depths of Perdere so that he too might ponder the recent events.

Scroll II: The Journey

        The people in the tavern rejoiced prematurely that night, believing their troubled lives to have finally found peace. However, even on the very eve of Elazul’s sealing, the vampires began to pursue the Dread Lord that held their father. As the people drank to their full, their cheers were heard by their savior even deep within the forest and gave him strength as his mighty weapon was put to the test time and time again against the worthy, collective might of the vampiric hordes. In the dead of night, their power was nigh absolute and overwhelming to lesser beings. Solaris battled for his life as he slowly made his way deep into the forestlands, heading for the borders of the southern deserts. Any other time he would have stood unopposed in power, but the burden of the soulstone already weighed heavy around his neck as Elazul attempted to break free of his prison. The avian’s intent was to use the power of the scorching sun to set a distance between himself and the legions of undead that attacked from behind every tree he passed.

        For days on end without tiring Solaris fought the children of Elazul, having short periods of rest only while the sun was at its pinnacle in the sky. On the beginning of the sixth day, the sun broke the horizon just as Solaris’ feet slammed down into the sands of the desert, sending ripples through all of the nearby sand dunes, bringing an aerial battle with an especially powerful vampire to an end. The man once called the God of Pain looked towards the sun and drew hope from it, though that hope was drown out from the cries of his muscles as a lack of food, drink, and sleep continued to take their toll upon him. Through the rivers of dried blood that stained the figure’s golden mask, the sun reflected brilliantly from the polished metal. Hearing a stir behind him that told him his pursuers had quickened their pace, having noticed the sun as well, the Wanderer turned and began to head even deeper into the desert sands towards an isolated, sand worn hut that held the only salvation this land had to offer the hero.

        As the sun rose in the sky that morning, the hordes that sought to destroy the last of the missing avian generals drew closer to their goal. The strongest of the group were able to pull ahead in the daylight sun and confront the warrior. Growing weary and delusional after several of the larger conflicts, Solaris shed all but his golden mask and most basic armor in order to move faster across the desert dunes. He paid little heed to the army behind him taking up the armor and placing it into a large chest that the slowest were made to carry. The soulstone around his neck pulsed like a heartbeat with crackling, radiant energy from the struggling occupant contained within, calling the pursuing army into their frenzied death march. His strength fleeting, Solaris rested upon the top of a dune and leaned heavily upon the Dark Scythe he had been pulling behind him. Whispers of giving up and allowing the masses behind him to reclaim their king raced through his thoughts as he sank to his knees, exhausted. A dark smoke swirled from the pours of his body as his mind sought to be free of the worn flesh in order to find another host to hide within for the time being, that he might reclaim power and fight the Immortals in the distant future. Just as the ritual was nearly complete, a sound tore his concentration, forcing him back into the tired flesh of old. “Shael…” a voice boomed from above. The Wanderer’s tired, ancient eyes looked up to the direction from which the voice spoke and beheld a sight he had thought to never again see. In the sky against the sun, a giant column of rock and steel floated above the land, with windows lining the entire length of the structure. Shael recognized it immediately, as would any avian, to be Ashtaeum, the capital city of the Royal Avian Empire. With his last ounce of strength, Solaris spread his large, white wings and leapt into the sky to return to his home which he had not seen since he had heard of its fall during the war.

Scroll III: The Fall

        Solaris soared over the buildings of the ancient city hoping to perhaps see some last remnant of his people holding out against hope, but it appeared that the city was long dead. Although the city had been damaged in several areas from the old war, it was still a beautiful sight to behold. The last of his strength spent, Solaris fell from the sky and crash-landed into the streets of the flying city beneath him, coming to a stop just before a fountain. Shael’s eyes locked upon the water in the fountain like a child staring at a piece of candy. He greedily thrust his face into the cool liquid and began to drink until his belly was full, falling into a deep sleep when he finished. When he awoke, he felt revitalized and renewed, but only for a mere instant. He slowly stood and looked around, spotting the fountain he had drank from before. The fountain’s cracked and dry walls looked as though they hadn’t held water for centuries. Shael turned his back to the decayed decoration and wandered the streets until he came before a large white building with white statues of famous avian warriors holding the building aloft. Before the building was a larger statue that bore the likeness of Shael, holding its arms open in a welcoming gesture for all to enter the temple. The avian unlocked the golden mask from his head and dropped it to the ground before walking up the great steps and entering through the large, double doors. Within the temple, upon the walls, screens flickered to life, showing video footage of the seven avian generals in their greatest battles. Shael stood before the portrayal of his battle with Winzain, where he had managed to steal the horrible beast’s weapon, though it nearly cost him his life. Despair filled the heart of the man but he was quickly distracted once again by the voice he had heard before. “Solaris…”his ears heard, but the horrid voice that intruded into his thoughts spoke, “Shael…” The avian spread his wings and reeled around on his heels to face the speaker, holding his scythe ready. He was startled to be met by his own shed armor, including the bloodstained, golden mask, though the eye sockets of the polished metal were empty. “Welcome home Shael,” spoke the voice coming from the red gem. The voice bore the same hatred and malice that Solaris knew all to well from years of fighting.

        The Dread Lord gripped the soulstone around his neck and replied softly, addressing both the armor and the stone, “Elazul…”

        The golden mask that shown through the hooded cloak tilted to one side as the voice replied, “Long and hard has been your journey. Though you did not start as the mightiest of your people, you have lasted where the rest could not and stood toe to toe with Immortals. Yet, all was in vain and your downfall shall ring through the mortalkind like fire that will burn at their very motivation to resist our rule.”

        The Avian general stared at the armor with a deep, rooted anger that pushed back the pain of his muscles and renewed his strength. “The mortals will search for a new figurehead to trust their faith in, and I have seen to it that their search shall be rewarded,” the words rolled out like the fire of a dragon’s breath. Solaris smirked and lept out the door of the temple and into the air before Elazul could respond. His anger boiling over, the Dark God held the handle of his weapon and spoke to it as he infused it with a large portion of his own power, saying, “Go now into the hands of your new master and may you protect her as you have me.” With that, he hurled the Dark Scythe into the distant desert sands and turned in time to see the gauntlet of his armor connect with the side of his skull. The resonating crack trembled the fragile floating city beneath him, breaking what few windows were left, along with the ground below, causing tremors that shook the very foundation of the continent. Having cast his weapon away, Solaris lost a part of himself along with his will to fight. He now saw his end in sight and accepted it, as all creatures must accept their final fate.

        The mortal man fell from the sky and glory into the desert below and came to rest upon the sand. His eyes stared blankly as his body gasped its last. With the setting of the sun upon the horizon, Shael exhaled one final time and ceased to be. The jewel around his neck crackled and pounded, yet the occupant was still unable to break free. Solaris’ soulstone broke free of the chain and entered into the cavity behind the mask of the Dread Lord’s animated armor, casting an eerie, red glow through the empty eye sockets. Though weakened, Elazul was determined to be free, and so he set out into the world of the mortals to find the key to his prison.

Scroll IV: The New Master

        In the deep reaches of the desert, a small, lone structure stood out against the sand. A dried, wooden door led into the small hut that stood against all odds in the midst of the desert sand storms. Even as the Dark Scythe left the hands of its former master, the woman knew. She pushed through the door and looked into the sky, awaiting the arrival. She needed not wait for long as the flaming blade arced through the air and slammed into the sands in front of the girl. It stood on end and its blackened flames shone brilliantly as voices whispered unspeakable terrors to anyone who might be listening. Thunder sounded from a great distance away and the ground shook, but the scythe would not be toppled by such things. The woman cried and sobbed, for she knew what had taken place, but her display was silenced by the booming, familiar voice of the fiery blade, “Do not cry for him, for he knew the cost was to be his existence even as he agreed to leave the underworld to return and fight Elazul one final time. Rather, take me up to pull in the strength and knowledge he has left behind, that you may succeed where he did not.”

        The girl stood and wiped the tears from her eyes, stifling another sob. “You have the voice of my father, and the wisdom of the Immortals. How is this so?” she asked with great wonderment, for she had never heard the weapon speak at all, save for the whispers that shroud its presence.

        “A part of your father now rests within me to be your guide and to give you the training which can only be gained from experience. Your task now is to stay in training until the appointed time to strike grows near, dear Ambriel, whom your father loved so much that he gave everything to ensure your name be remembered as much as his, as the one who would defeat Elazul…” the voice trailed off into the whispers of before. The girl spread her wings broadly, the weapon having returned her pride, as she gripped the handle of the Dark Scythe and pulled it from the ground. Her brown eyes burned golden for an instant with the power of her father before fading back to their natural color. Part avian, part elf, the girl looked more like her mother Ciadra than anyone else, save for her wings. As she leapt into the air and back towards the forest lands, she vowed victory against the Dark Immortal, Elazul, and to one day be greater than her father Solaris, who was a Dark God turned champion in the land of the Hollow.