The Birth of the Covenant

Prologue

"Alexander Corvinus... Hungarian, a warlord... who came to power in the early seasons of the fifth century. Just in time to watch a plague ravage his village. He alone survived. Somehow, his body was able to change the disease... mold it to his benefit. He became the first true immortal. And years later, he fathered at least two children... who inherited the same trait." – Dr. Singe, Old World Lycan's 2002

Hungary- 412 AD

They had been riding for days, the only thing more weary than the nine tired soles clad in leather and plate armor were the stallions that carried these tired warriors. The ride and slowed to little more than a trot as their swords clanged in their scabbards. The ride and been hard, the unforgiving countryside of the region had delayed them more than they expected, but now the long journey was coming to an end, each one of the nine men breathed a sigh of relief as they made it to the tree line. "At last." The lead man sighed as he drank deep from a flagon of water before passing it amongst his men. "We have made it through the woods my brothers…" he spoke in a relieved tone as he scratched his beard and flicked his braided hair back over hid shoulders "…rest here a while, refresh yourselves, the village is no more than an hours ride from here." The men seemed to simultaneously dismount their steeds and talk amongst themselves, all except the youngest of them, a boy, no more than sixteen, not even old enough to grow a beard, he stood out from his comrades. He did not do much fighting, rather it was his job to tend to the horses, a task he carried out without complaint. As he fed a handful of vegetables to one of the steeds he allowed his attention to drift away from the conversations of his comrades, he cast his glance into the distance, where something caught his attention, a bellowing plume of smoke reached into the new nights sky. "Captain…" he called out, however the other men paid little attention to him "Captain!" He called again.

"What is Samuel?" The lead man snapped at him.

"Smoke sir." The boy answered "In the distance."

The captain rose to his feet and looked into the distance "Where is it coming from?" One of his men asked.

The captains eyes widened in horror as he threw down his flagon "The village." He breathed heavily "TO HORSES!" At the captains desperate order every man stopped what they were doing and leapt back into the saddle, galloping off towards the ominous plume in the distance.

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They had followed the dirt path that lead to village, it was dark, hard to see, especially when riding at speeds. The captain of these men pulled hard on the horses reigns bringing it to its hind legs. The nine men sat in silence as they watched flames dance into the night sky, burning away at what was once a village. "Who could have done this?" One of his men breathed heavily.

"Rome." One of his men answered immediately "It must be Rome, the Empire has always wanted to tame these lands."

"Don't be ridiculous!" The captain snapped "Rome has its own problems, Goths, Vandals… Rome can't even keep the barbarian hoards out of Italy, let alone project themselves here."

"Then who?" A panicked warrior demanded.

"These people did this to themselves." The captain answered solemnly.

"Why would they do that sir?" The young squire asked.

"Take a look." The captain replied as he nodded to something half way up the road.

"It's just a boulder." One of his men shrugged.

"But look what's been left around it."

"Food, supplies." One of his men breathed.

"Why would they leave food there?"

"Offerings…" one of the men spoke up "…to the Heathen Gods of their ancestors."

"Heathen Gods!" The captain spat "What did I do to get lumbered with such fools. The supplies were left there by traders, and people from other villages… it's a boundary stone, they were left there because they daren't go into the village itself."

"Why not?" The young squire asked.

"The same reason it's being burned to the ground… there was plague here."

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The nine men had left their horses tethered at the boundary stone and cautiously made their way into the village. Covering their faces with scented rags they breathed carefully, and clutched their short swords in the other. The heat from the burning buildings was intense. "Smells like flesh." One of the older men observed.

"That's why." The captain nodded as they walked past a pit of smoldering corpses.

"SIR!" The Squire screamed as he pointed to one of the fires in the distance.

The men's attention was drawn to something unexpected, a single silhouette stood tall in the flames, the men approached it nervously, eventually the form became clear, it belonged to that of a man, a man of proud stature, he had long grey hair tied back in a loose pony tail, his thin gray beard was charred from smoke and ash and his face covered in blood. The men were halted in their tracks as they all bowed to him. "My Lord." The captain asked nervously "What happened here?"

"Plague." He answered simply.

"Where is everyone My Lord?"

"Dead… they're all dead."

"But my Lord… your wife… your children."

"It's just me… I alone have survived this."

"How did you burn all the bodies sir, you couldn't have moved them all by yourself."

"It would appear that fate has not only spared me, it has changed me… mate me stronger… more powerful than before."

"What do you want us to do My Lord?" The captain asked.

"You will escort me to one of our other villages, we have much to regain… Rome is weak, and these lands are ripe for the taking… I no longer have my family… but I will have my legacy, history will never forget the name of Alexander Corvinus."