My name is Torin. I stand before you lucky to hold my life. For, you see, I have fought a great lich king and lived. This is my story, for I fear I do not have an eternity and need someone to hear it.

I was born a human child to two Mul parents. However, as a slave, life was harsh for me. I didn't have near as much resilience as the my brothers or even sisters, who were Mul. I was an oddity. At the age of 5, my mother realized how unsuited to this life I was and I was sent away to my grandfather, a dwarf in a dwarven mountain city a weeks travel away. I travelled with a kind robed man wielding an incredibly large blade. My father didn't like him, but my mother knew him as trustworthy.

"Saint! Please!" She begged him. "We have no money to send him ourselves or we would."

He held up a hand to stop her. "I will take the child. But please, let me see him first."

I was brought before him, and he stared at me for a hard long time. I felt nervous, but the man's gaze was calming. After a few seconds, he stood. "Yes, I shall take him. But I cannot promise that his grandfather will take him. What then?"

My heart sunk as I saw my mother look away. She didn't know. She didn't have an answer. I cried hard that night, as I knew I would never see my family again. And I didn't. I later went back when I was older and my parents had both died in the hardships of slavery. My brothers and sisters that had survived thus far had fought in a revolutionary war over the local tyrant for freedom. They had won and went travelling.

So I went travelling with the Saint. He would often talk of his adventures, like when he slayed a colossus with the help of his friend. I never heard his name, not once. And, when we came past a river with no bridge, he grew wings and flew me across!

"Why don't we just fly to the mountain?" I'd asked him shortly afterwards.

"It's a lovely walk, though!" He said, smiling a great white smile. I still haven't forgotten that smile. It was always plasterred on his face. He was a kind man, and when we passed villages, he would always drop a few coins to some beggars.

Soon enough, we reached the mountain city, Domorthor. We went in and he was greeted like an old friend of the mayor himself. I think the mayors name was Vengeance. Anyways, we went to my grandfather's place, an old mansion.

"Let me go speak to him alone, kiddo." The Saint said to me. I nodded. I was worried about meeting my grandpa and didn't mind putting it off.

I waited by that gate for what felt like forever, watching short, bearded men walk about. When the Saint did come back, it was the first time I'd ever seen him not smiling.

"Uhh, I'm sorry kid, he... he said he didn't welcome humans to his house. Especially illigitamite..." He stopped, and I saw a dark look cross his face.

I don't know if it was a trick of the light, or I blinked, but seemlingly instantly, the Saint pulled out his blade for the first time, and, in one fell swoop, sliced a nearby statue of a dwarf in fancy clothings that I assumed to be of my grandpa. The statue fell to the ground, and we quickly left. None of the dwarves said anything, despite a few offended faces. Most just nodded, however.

We left that mountain, without looking back. A week after we left, the Saint decided I should learn how to fight. We went to a small town blacksmith, the nearest one.

"Pick one." The Saint said. He pointed to a wall full of various farming utinsels.

"Why, am I going back to a farm?" I asked, sad at the thought of leaving my friend.

"No," He said, surprising me. Then he looked at me with the biggest grin. "Because I'm going to teach you to fight."

I was so excited. I ended up picking a sickle, but he said I'd need a bigger weapon, so he got me the biggest one I could carry, a small scythe.

So, at the age of 5, and then 6, I travelled with the Saint, and learned how to fight with a scythe. We kept heading West, until, one day, we arrived at a dark town.

We went straight towards the center of the town, towards a large castle. He didn't even knock, he just went straight into the place. I followed at his heels.

The Saint spoke with a man of red skin in a language I didn't understand, but would later learn. Elvin.

Later, he took me out to the places backyard. "Torin, I have to go." The silence stretched after those words, until it's implications hit me.

Tears welled in my eyes. "No!" I yelled at him. "No! You can't leave me!" I threw a punch at him which hit him in the leg, but he didn't react. "Don't leave me like my father! Like my mother!" I cried for a long time. I cried until I fell to the ground exhausted. He carried me back into the castle and up to a room on a higher floor. I fell asleep as he laid me down.

When I awoke, he was gone. All that was left of him was my scythe he'd bought me, and a note. "Be good! -The Wandering Saint" I cried for a week straight. Evey now and then people came and went, but I never looked at any of them. I missed the Saint. Finally, after my eyes had dried, I ventured out of my room.

The castle was huge, and I almost got lost. When I finally meandered down to the main floor, I went to the backyard. There I found a young boy. His skin was red, and I dully remembered that the Saint had spoken to someone like that. Small horns poked out from black hair.

"Hi!" I said, caustiously. The boy turned, and, when he saw me, sneered.

"Oh, the cry baby is out of bed finally. My dad's done nothing but talk about the prodigee of the Saint while all you do to prove your worth is cry like a baby!"

"I was not crying!" I yelled back at him.

"Oh really? I could hardly sleep with all that sobbing. Baby! Baby! Baby!" He laughed.

I rushed at him, and we got into a fight. A nearby nurse noticed the commotion and pulled us apart. And that started a 12 year friendship.

Soon enough, I stobbed thinking about the wandering man. My new friend kept me too busy. We were always getting into trouble, from throwing pies at the local guards, to releasing the chickens at farms and driving them out of their pins. His name was Doronoss.

We fought more times than I could count, both with each other, and against the local group of bullies. We lost most times, but we always fought bravely. We also practiced with weapon fighting. He used two Khopeshs, while I used the scythe the Saint had given me. Surprisingly, the Saint had blessed it and embuid it with basic magic to grow as I did, and to never break.

I discovered I had a knack with what I first thought was magic but quickly came to realize was psionics. The fun we had with my tricks had us rolling in the grass, clutching our sides, and had us running from more people than I could count.

We went through common teen angst and came out stronger and closer than going in. Finally, we had hit 18. We'd become adults. The night I turned 18 was after his, so we waited to really celebrate until I'd turned.

When I did, we had a party which was slightly less grand than his. But the was only part one. Once everyone elsehad gone to sleep, Doronoss and I grabbed our weapons and snuck out, as planned. We left a small note, saying we'd gone out to adventure. We had been hearing for the past two years of a ghast in a local cave that had terrified the town. We were going to fight it.

We arrived at the cave and walked right in, our weapons out.

"Who enters my domain whilst the city sleeps and I lie here awake?" A voice boomed out of the darkness.

I was too scared to answer, but Doronoss stepped forward, his blades raised. "It is I, Doronoss, your death! And beside me the noble Torin!" His challenge was brazen, but now I realize foolish. For what came out of the shadows was no ghast. It radiated power we have never dreamed of.

Doronoss and I, weapons at the ready, charged the creature. I managed to land a blow, but Doronoss's khopeshs simply fazed through him. My blow had caught him on the arm, but only slid off, not piercing the clothes he wore.

I chopped and diced as hard and fast as I could, as did Doronoss, but the lich stood there, not reacting. Finally, we stepped back, panting from the effort.

"You finished." It crooned, smiling. "Good, my turn." He rushed forward faster than I could blink, and he knocked my scythe up and out of my hands, catching it non-chalantly. Suddenly, his hands started to sizzle.

He screamed in pain, and quickly dropped the weapon. "Such a holy weapon!" He hissed. He turned back to me. "Boy, pick that weapon up." I tried to resist him, but felt I couldn't. I picked it up and, without being able to stop myself, held it out.

"I cannot destroy that item, but I can override it's magic with a ritual." He said to himself. Doronoss was frozen in place, too afraid to move.

Suddenly, the lich's arm stuck out. His fingers came together like a point, and it pierced Doronoss's chest. There, on the end of the lich's hand, was a heart. It stopped beating slowly. I watched the life fade from Doronoss's eyes. I was horrified, but I still couldn't move.

The lich grabbed at the air a few times, until suddenly, he grasped a small red sphere which had not been there a second before. He turned and threw it at the scythe I held out. As soon as it hit, it melded onto the scythe. The lich said several words that I didn't understand, and each one made me feel queesy.

The red became a perminant part of the weapon. I dropped the weapon in surprise and realized I had gained control of my body again.

"I'll let you live boy, if you leave now and tell your people to never enter this cave again. If any of you do, I'll destroy your entire village." He said, smiling cruelly. Then he turned and crouched above Doronoss's body. I heard a crunch sound and realized what was happening. He was eating Doronoss!

Rage filled me, shaking, I slowly grabbed my scythe off the floor. It felt different. It didn't feel as safe and warm as before, more anxious and angry. I charged the Lich. I don't know if the gods interviened or if the Lich was truly unprepared for such an attack, but I managed a heavy strike. I didn't pierce flesh, despite hitting with the point, but the force of the hit sent him flying. I quickly grabbed Doronoss's body.

I remembered hearing about how with only a thumb or a finger, a person could be revived. So, shaking, I cut off his right thumb. Then I ran. Right as I was exiting the cave, I heard a terrible shriek. Something tried to grab hold of my mind, but the Scythe glowed, and I felt that grip slip.

I kept running for hours, desperate to get away, until the morning lights touched the horizon. I stumbled, half asleep, towards a large tower. It seemed to call to me. I fell asleep right as I knocked on the door.

I awoke to a nurse tending to my bandages. Apparently I'd suffered wounds during the fight that I only know noticed. When I woke, I was rushed to the wizard of the tower.

He told me of how this tower called to those in need. I explained what had happened, even the part of the red sphere melding with the scythe.

"This is not good." He said, stroking his grey beard. "The lich has made a soul weapon." Seeing my questioning glance, he elaborated. "It is a weapon that has been combined with a persons soul. I'm afraid I can't raise your friend, for his soul is trapped within that weapon."

I looked at him. "How do we release him." I asked.

"You need to collect the energy of more souls. Once the soul has enough energy, it will split from the scythe."

"How do I collect energy from a soul?"

The wizard stroked his beard, then paced about. "I shall place an enchantment on the blade for that. Also, give me the thumb. I shall enchant it so that it never withers or crumbles to dust."

I gave him both, and he did as he said he would. I left the tower that day, bandages and all. For every kill, I get closer to having enough energy to release Doronoss. I feel his soul in my blade, and we work together in every battle.

My wish in this is to kill that lich. I later went back to that cave, ready to fight, but he was gone. I have no idea where he went. But I now I will find him one day, and I will kill him.

I dream of the day when I will fight along side Doronoss again. Not as human and weapon, but as man beside man. Or even man against man, as so often we had fought. Either way, I will release from this blade one way or another.