Authors notes: ALAS: another cool fable story. This chapter doesn't seem that fantastic, BUT I promise future chaptures will lead into AMAZING stuff.
It was his now. He couldn't believe it at first. The hard journey that had taken up most of his life had now come to an abrupt end. The previous events that had led up to this magnificent conclusion raced through his mind. It had been somewhat rapid. He remembered the rage, and a blur of countless beasts rushing towards him. Then there was a man. Yes, he remembered it now. A man draped in red, and a mask. He remembered that mask so well. It had reoccurred throughout his past bringing with it companions of death, and pestilence. Jack of Blades, they called him. A formidable opponent he was, but he had slain him. With great pride he killed the beast. The sight of that swine's blood overjoyed him. Then there was his sister, and then a choice: keep the blade or cast it away. He wanted to resist, he wanted to let it go, but his desire was too great. The mystical sword beckoned to him, but there was one obstacle that blocked his way to fulfillment, his sister. Although her sight was a thing of the past she would not let her brother be taken by its power. He couldn't stop himself. He took the sword. Its malevolence flowed through him like a wave of power. He could feel the very essence of the sword take him, and then without hesitation he thrust the mighty blade into the last of his kin. He stared blankly at the sword as his sister's blood trickled down to the hilt. Now it was his.
Now he held the fabled Sword of Aeons. The hero knew of its evil but embraced it, for its new power was greater than that of any he had felt before. He was willingly consumed by it, but now that ultimate power was his, what would he do. He now had the strength to do whatever he pleased, but what did he want. It was obvious. There was only one thing left to take. The thought had entered his mind once or twice, but for this dream to actually be fulfilled. His fate was set. He would overthrow Albion. He had the power. Why not use it? That is what he would do. The world would bow to him, and no one would oppose. He turned and walked out of the chamber of fate and onwards throughout the guild. He then walked up the great steps that led up to the balcony of the guild where he could look upon his new kingdom. He reached the top steps and was taken back by the sight before him.
Albion burned. Its flames spread for miles consuming the landscape like a fiery beast wildly eating its prey. Smoke rose out of the chaos blackening the sky, and ruble covered the ground. The inferno reached even the guild. Its once beautiful gardens and statues were now a pile of charred nothingness. The apocalypse before him broke a smile onto his face. Jack of Blades was a mere pawn in his campaign of death. Jack's act of setting fire to forests and towns were for his benefit, but no longer. Now the path was paved for a new kingdom. He set out to inspect what was left of Albion, still wondering how to start a conquest. Who were his enemies? Who were his allies? All were questions that needed to be answered.
They called him, Tarus. It was a name known by all in Albion. His fierce conquests had gained him the renown of all. His name was uttered with a feared reverence, and he deserved it. His power and skill surpassed even the greatest legends, and now with the ungodly power of the Sword of Aeons he was undefeatable. He stood at least a head higher than anyone, and his bare muscle could tear down the mightiest of warriors.
Now he plotted to take over Albion, but with whom would he make the first alliance? He turned over the peoples of Albion in his mind. There were basically two groups of different people in the land aside from the squabbling groups of Hobbes and other creatures. There were Bandits: nomads fuelled by greed, and then there were the different towns all governed in the same, law abiding, way. The only relevant choice was made. Bandits. Easily persuaded and quick to kill for a price, would be his task force. But the question remained. Could he gain their allegiance? Would money be enough?
Again his thoughts raced back through time. Twinblade. Another legend who, at the time, almost equally matched him. Twinblade, and even his personal elite guards, could not defeat the ever-growing skill of Taurus. Ever since, feelings between the bandits and Taurus had been hostile. He pushed the thoughts away. He did not fear death, nor anything or any one. If the Bandits did not agree, other actions would have to be put into play. But only time would tell. All would be discovered in due time. Until then, Taurus Lord of Albion, would set his paths to the Bandits fortress, unaware of the events to unfold.
