DISCLAIMER: I don't own DGD, Greg Collinson does. This is fan made and I mae no money from this ~


D


Adam

Damp

As a novice in the art of stealing, it was quite believable that the ones he too from could easily track his down to both retrieve their possessions and obtain their retribution. And so, it was also quite understandable when Adam found his way into several different, personal dungeons of the rich, corrupt and angry who lived in the various villages Adam would go to.

As these men had power – and he happened to be practicing an illegal act – Adam quickly learned that the law was no aid and never would be. So, Adam figured that as it had been for the most of his life, he would have to rely on his own skills for survival. During those moments, a glimmer of gratefulness and understanding for his father's actions would shine through.

The world really was a hard, soulless place.

And that thought would be reinforced each time the crack of a whip would resound through the air as hard leather made contact with his back. That seemed to be a favorite tool for many of the eccentric. Yet each was creative to make each session of "taking back what's rightfully mine" stay fresh in Adam's mind as he pondered the extent of possible cruelty. It had taken a while for him to learn that it had no boundaries.
Adam would eventually learn to be indifferent to these experiences, throwing around insults at his kidnappers and mocking the ones that would do the dirty work as the master stood behind the bars looking smug.

He never bothered with the fact that the ones hurting him were weak and thin, and always trembled at their master's voice. Nor did he let himself be bothered with the fact that there were several other cells near to his. The wistful expression on the face of one particular servant as he escaped when he spared a backward glance, lingered in his mind for only a moment.

As years passed by, the captures became less common as his abilities sharpened and improved. So, far in the future and so much different – better, he would tell himself - from whom he was then, the torture became a blur.

But, there was one factor that always remained in his mind, the one aspect that would puzzle him to no end on some nights.

The floor he had been forced to live on had always been damp with some sort of substance.

It took him some more years to realize what it was.

That blood hadn't been his.


Kara

Demon

Kara remembered the times in the past, when she had been younger – times when she could still walk on her own two feet. It had been only a couple years that they had habituated the Dojo, waiting for their parents to return from their battle with the Megalith. They had promised to return, so Kara had no doubt in her mind that they would uphold their word.

Life became a ritual, a patient wait for a battle that was taking longer and longer to end. After the moon would light up its designated spot in the sky, Erik would lead her up to her room after dinner, during which she would clutch her brother's hand tightly because he would protect them from the evils lurching in the shadows which followed their ever step. He would wait patiently outside her room as she got ready for rest and then enter. She would lie down and he pulled the green covers up to her chin. She would sink into the soft mattress and gently close her emerald eyes to the light of her small room. And Erik would ease her off to a peaceful slumber with a story about heroes and villains.

Two people would always come to the rescue of unsuspecting people in danger. A man and a woman would fight together as defenders – just like they would soon be - both too strong to ever be defeated by the inferior evildoers. Both had bright orange hair, the woman having her hair in a similar fashion to her own – at this point Erik would almost sadly finger her hair – and the man had a large build. The stories continued that way for a while.

However, one day, when Erik's longing glances out the window after meeting with Alnar that one morning changed the path the tales would take. Whereas before, the villains would be rather simple, but now they had better skills. That same day, one particular monster – who would begin to frequent the stories more often –a creature Erik had dubbed 'The Demon' had been born.

Said ugly beast had more tentacles than Kara could count at the time, sporting gargantuan red eyes that could suck away joy with a simple glance. The Demon then, quite naturally in her opinion at the time, was black colored and resembled a disfigured shadow that enjoyed stalking his prey by hiding in closets and under the bed. He would lack many features commonly found on RaDosians – such as a nose or ears – but still managed to sense exactly where the next victim lay and where to attack next. But, much to Kara's discomfort, the monster had a mouth which was home to several large fangs that could easily pierce any surface.

She would always shiver when The Demon surfaced in Erik's stories. His words used to be like a lullaby to her ears, yet lately they had left her tense and holding her breath until the last word. But there was always comfort in the fact that the heroes always won. She failed to see how this creature could be an expectation to this rule.

She strongly believed in that mentality until she heard one of the last stories her brother ever told her.

The heroes been defeated, overpowered by the monster who stood above their bodies and gloated in the glory. When questioned why, for Kara couldn't fathom how ones so strong could ever be beat. She had sat up in bed, in shock, staring at her brother with wide eyes. He averted her eyes and answered in a cold voice.

"Sometimes heroes just aren't strong enough."


Erik

Deception

Every once in a while he could swear that he heard her laugh reverberate through the room as he made the obvious mistake in the entire RaDos. And he would forget or a moment that it was impossible and smile along as well. At the world in the dimly lit kitchen in the heart of the night would seem a little bit brighter. The weight that would always be pushing down on his shoulders would become slightly lax and he would be able to breathe again without having life whispering taunts in his ears as it so often did from dusk to dawn.

Every once in a while he would catch a glimpse of her orange hair and he would relax again, because if she's here that means she's safe. And he won't have to spend the hours of the days working so hard that he can't think of anything else, because even if lets his mind wander for a single moment there will be no return. He'll plunge into the darkness so fast and this time there'll be no light to be his savior and wrench him away from the monsters that always managed to get too close. He would be fine because he knew that she was only a call away.

As he lies down on his hard bed, piling blankets upon himself because he was too cold these days, he heard her voice float into his mind and drift him away towards his dreams where she was always waiting.

With her green cat-like eyes that sparkled with happiness. With her beautiful, toothy smile that spoke only of a wonderful future. With a power that could make all the Ethos dissipate to a faraway land where they would cause no more harm.

And everything would be okay.

But, a small voice would play softly in the back of his head, always in the background no matter how hard he tried to block it out.

It was all a lie.


Rion

Darkness

As Tzur would leave him for rest, Rion would make a habit of watching the shadows of his large home dance against the walls. He didn't know what it was about the absence of light that brought him in so strongly. Its alluring song played in his ears as he would become more mesmerized by each passing moment. He wanted to let go and be consumed by what was promised beyond the welcoming hand of the dark.

For many times in the past and those to come, Rion would find comfort in the dark, thriving in the shady parts of rooms, feeling so much stronger as it almost seemed to wrap around him and give him unimaginable power. This feeling surfaced the most with anger.

He would feel the rage flood his body as the proverbial actions his body would take in the course of this emotion would play out. Clenched teeth. Hardening fists. Narrowed eyes.

It was then that the darkness would come at full force, swarming in from all sides around him. It would the very air he breathed in, filling his lung will such an intoxicating feeling that he just couldn't refuse it. It would cover his eyes and show him images of fantasies in which he could destroy the object of his fury and no one could stop him. It was almost as if would undergo a metamorphosis that was beyond his control, that turned him into a creature that served the dark, an executioner of all those who dare to cross him.

However, Rion knew that it couldn't be true – the dark did no such things.

It was just a coincidence that who had irritated him always turned up dead the next day.

It had to be.


Melosa

Demented

Mel believed that the worst thing that could possible happen, was for someone to hate her.

She and her friends had been resting near a village after attending a distress call and in the morning they entered the small, seeming quaint area for some supplies, having nearly exhausted all their resources.

Her wizard powers were just beginning to surface and without any training, they were out of her control. And so, she had been embarrassed when she accidently froze a fruit that an elderly woman had been about to eat.

And she didn't sense a threat in the woman's voice as she softly, and flatly, asked whether or not Mel was a wizard.

A little reluctantly, she answered with an affirmative.

Nothing could have prepared her for what happened next.

The woman began screaming accusations of abandonment by the wizards, of hurt that was faced alone. Being alone as the team had separated to quickly gather what they needed and leave. Mel had steeped back in shock into the arms of a waiting man who had picked up on the alderfly's cues to grab her.

By the time the rest of the team had figured out what the commotion was about, why all the business owners had closed, and begun fighting their way to their friend Mel had already been sloppily tied up and thrown in the centre of rather angry people.

People with stones.

Lots and lots of stones.

As the first couple hit her, she cringed in pain. They had been whipped at her, as if it would release the rage brewing inside this people for some time now.

Right before the other defenders managed to push away the large men keeping them away as the people had their revenge, Mel managed to open her left eye – the right one being swollen – and the last sight before unconsciousness consumed her was a little girl cowering behind her mother, who hand her arm wound back to fling a stone at her.

It was then how wrong her ideology had been. There indeed wassomething worse than being hater.

Being feared.


Seth

Duty

In war or in any sort of dispute that involved a group of people, the downfall of the leader usually meant the falling of the rest of the team. That was why the leader had to be strong, had to be unstoppable, because if they lost, so would the rest of the ones said leader was in charge of. And no matter what would happen to him, Seth knew he would never be able to forgive himself if he brought his friends down with him.

As defenders, they are forced to face down the cruelest of criminals, the harshest of conditions and the most difficult of situations. It is their job to make the lives of others better and they have sworn to dedicate their selves for the cause that took their parents away from them. It's no easy task, as even though they work alongside the law, they are not always viewed as such. Given the fact that they all had been isolated from the rest of society, it was no easy task to fit into a world they had only been able to dream about a little while ago, much less knew how to deal with the people inhabiting it.

Still, no matter how hard the people could be, all of the team worked hard to protect them because people depended on them. It was that piece of knowledge that always kept Seth going when he felt that there was nothing more that he could do. Even when his stones were this close to being drained, even when he felt like he was worn out, even when the situation felt hopeless. The others depended on him as well and he couldn't let them all down because he was too weak.

So, for each battle he does his best to push the enemies away, to make sure that the defenders win this fight to ensure they all get though each time they get called out to the frontline. He is responsible for five other lives, for five safe returns, for five mentalities.

Sometimes, it feels like too much, that he can't possibly keep them all safe – especially when one of those members happens to be Adam, who has been pitted against him since day one – and definitely not whilst they fight a war where threats are around every corner.

But, he keeps quiet and shoulders the burden. And hopes beyond hope that he doesn't fail.

Because he is the leader.


This has not been proofread well. If you find any mistakes, do let me know. Thanks.

~Denvana~