superjars
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The sun rose slowly, the chariot of the sky riding out before the
clouds, lighting the hall and rousting the fierce warriors from
their troubled sleep. As they arose, sleep pushed from eyes,
armor gathered and donned, weapons sharpened and stored,
the men noticed that their leader, Mighty Balmath, champion
of the King, was nowhere to be found. They searched throughout
the keep, but no one knew where he was. The men assembled,
coming together to find out what to do next, but even Garsten,
the second in command, was not to be found.
"Gentlemen, worry not. I am sure that we will hear from our
leaders soon enough, either from a messenger, or their very
mouths. Perhaps they have left to do some early morning
training, before returning to take us into battle. Let us also
prepare to meet them with some training of our own!"
The men gave a mighty cry, and broke into groups, training their
bodies for the coming battles, without full knowledge of what was
happening only leagues from where they stood.
A messenger had come in the last moments of twilight, before
any of the men had risen with the sun. "Ho, Mighty Balmath,
champion of the King, I come bearing sad news. Garsten, the
brave knight, has been seen heading towards the enemy in the
deep of the night, when all others were sleeping. He was seen
only an hour ago, and I was dispatched with all speed to come
and inform you of this treachery."
Without a word, Mighty Balmath rose to his feet, forsaking his
armor and taking hold of Devastation, his mighty axe, and ran
from the hall, moving in the direction that the messenger had
indicated. He ran and ran through the pre-dawn light, limbs
set afire from the strain, body flowing over the landscape as he
pursued his friend, to find out where his treachery came from.
He came crashing through the underbrush and out into the sun,
faced with a most horrendous sight: his second in command,
grinning madly down at him, standing to the side of his worst
enemy, The Great Cataclysm.
"What is this, Garsten. Do you ally yourself with our hated enemy,
the scourge of all that we hold dear in this world? How can you
join her, after all we have seen? After all of the devastation she
has caused during this war, the people she has killed, the lives
she has destroyed? Explain yourself, my friend!"
"Can't you see, Balmath, or are you blind as well? As hard as
we have fought, she perseveres still. We cannot win this war.
The Queen of the Everlasting, The Great Cataclysm, she will
not be deterred from her goal; she will never give up. And if we
serve her, we can live for all time, just as she does."
The words haunted Mighty Balmath's mind, feeling wrong in
some way, weak words from a strong man, empty words from
a man so full of feeling. He knew that it was not him who spoke,
but the spawn of the devil who accompanied him.
"Lo, Queen of Nothing, do you seek to defeat the grand army of
Ravenshreich with naught but lies and ill-gotten servants. I know
you control Garsten's mind and make him to speak as he does.
the words he says are not his own, but only your fowl spittle
dripping from his mouth. Release him, you evil cur and prepare
to bring your armies to bear, as we will crush the spirit from
your men and leave you with nothing!"
"Ah, you fool. If only it were that easy. He is mine now, in body
and mind, and the only way I will release him is if I have another
to replace him. You, perhaps." The woman's face twisted into a grin
of evil glee, her face dark and haunting.
"I will never become your slave! Instead, I will destroy you and free
my friend from your evil grip!" Mighty Balmath, champion of the King,
fool that he was, hoisted his axe to his shoulder and rushed at the pair,
a loud, bellowing cry ripping from his lungs. He swung his axe hard,
bringing it around at the Queen, but bit into nothing but air. He had
been aiming a killing blow, to sever the woman in half, but when he
arrived with the strike there was nothing to hit. The Queen had laid
her trap and he had walked straight into it.
But the power of his strike carried it onwards. It swung past where
the evil woman had stood and towards Garsten, who moved not an
inch at its approach. The axe bit deep into his side, cleaving him
open from side to side. Mighty Balmath fought with his blade to halt
its course, but nothing swayed it from its intended path. After shearing
straight through, the blade's momentum ceased, hanging lifelessly
in Balmath's mighty hands.
Garsten fell over backwards, life pouring out of him. Blood gurgled
from his lips, words struggling to surface, his face etched with pain
and agony, yet serene at the same time. "Balmath, old friend,
thank you for releasing me from that evil witch. You were right.
Those were not my words, but hers that came from my mouth.
Defeat her. Destroy her. Finish this war for all who have perished.
For all who have fal--"
< Message edited by superjars -- 5/17/2010 14:39:15 >
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