The Second Age Of Darkness Prologue
For centuries the war between the Kallorians and the Valpyre had raged, both sides fighting so ruthlessly and powerfully that the realm of Pallor plunged into complete and utter chaos. The Kallorian hordes lead by the Kallorian kings of Chaos decimated the Valpyre legions in catastrophic clashes, which saw many die. . The Hellion race decided that they could no longer avoid the Great War so the Hellion Mercenary legions fought for the Valpyre. Many sought refuge in the fact that the war couldn't get any worse... but it did. Thousands of P'rell Logros were spawned by Anharat and Cerunnos, T'lortiste Andii joined the horror that was the 'First Age Of Darkness' bringing with them unheard of sorcery that created catastrophic anomaly. Huge displays of sorcery that wiped out whole areas became common happenings... the nightmare continued. However, after years of Kallorian domination... a group of nine found the courage to stand up to the Kallorian kings of chaos. When the battle between the nine chosen Valpyre against the Kallorian Kings of Chaos raged... the result was catastrophic. Though the Valpyre chosen ones managed to overcome the Kallorian Kings and killed all of them. Though seven of the Valpyre died in the battle, only one survived... Dragorian the Pyromancer, with his sword of fire. He alone brought a treaty between the two races and for centuries peace reigned in the realm of Pallor. It was times of great peace where Kallorians and Valpyre could live together in peace and harmony. Though... everything went inevitably... wrong. Huge clouds formed in the sky, blocking out the sun, blocking out most heat and light. Colossal statues erupted from the ground, out of nowhere, illuminated with fire. ... Nine... Nine statues of Kallorians; hundreds of feet high they towered above all. Though none could figure out why nine huge statues of the Kallorian Kings of Chaos had erupted from the ground. Similarly none could figure out why clouds blocking the sun had come from nowhere bringing with them massive storms. Though when a silver beam of light with an area of 10 leagues fired out of the middle of nowhere resurrecting the raised fortress of the nine kings... it became clear that a mad Kallorian Necromancer had brought back from the dead the Kallorian kings of Chaos. Now the war between Kallorians and Valpyre rages once again... and once again the Kallorian Kings of Chaos have raised huge hordes to conquer the lands of Pallor once again. Dragorian of the Valpyre leads the legions to once again kill the Kallorian kings of Chaos and bring back peace to Pallor. But when he is assassinated... everything spirals out of control. With the Kallorian Kings hell bent on evil and a ruthless army behind them, Pallor is in need of heroes... Pallor is in need of people who have the courage to stand up to the Kings... and save Pallor from the hands of Darkness once again.
"From Darkness Comes Light and from Light... comes Darkness." 'Sayings of the damned.'
Chapter 1
The rain poured down and the thunder rolled across the night sky as Kellon stood in the middle of the ancient Circus E'rises Gladiator Arena. The Arena was shut down long ago when The Kallorian Kings of Chaos swept across the city of P'retoria with their hordes and destroyed many of the buildings and killed many people. That was three hundred years ago and now the many other leading Circuses were the fulcrum of the entertainment in P'retoria. As Kellon stood there, the rain battering him, he remembered... he remembered when he fought Voltan in this very arena over three hundred and fifty years ago. Voltan was the best gladiator Pallor had ever known, every fight he went into... he won within minutes, sometimes seconds. 'God how insane was I to challenge Gladiator One to a death dual?' Kellon pondered looking solemn. It was a famous fight, Gladiator 1 vs. Gladiator 2 in a death dual. The biggest crowd any Arena in Pallor had ever seen attended the 'match. Millions of jian were bet on the fight. 'That was the only death dual Voltan never killed the opponent and he was about to kill me. He had me beat, he had my life at his mercy and just as he was about to deliver the killing blow and send my life to Dante... Anharat came for him. God I remember the chaos, the sky went black and all felt... lifeless.' He shuddered at the memory, that was the last 'match' E'rises had every held, it was the longest Voltan ever took to beat an opponent. 'Fifty minutes that fight lasted... a record for any Arena. I was a legend in my prime.' Kellon thought to himself fondly. As the lightning illuminated the stands, more memories came back to him. 'I remember every word Anharat said to him. "I see your talent, it burns like a Hellion. I would unify you within yourself, I would complete you, and I would make you what you were born to be. I would make you a Kallorian King, a leader of the rightful race of Pallor, come with me and I would... illuminate the full extent of your power." Voltan considered it for a moment and said to me in a low tone, "You are lucky we did not finish our duel for your broken body would be lying on the floor in a pool of blood." He looked at Anharat and the Overlord knew Voltans' answer. He nodded solely to Anharat and started walking out of the arena but before he left he said to me. "We will one day finish this duel Gladiator 2, in this very place. You will not escape me then."' Kellon knew after that fight he could not be gladiator 2 because of the horrific injuries Voltan had given him. He felt the stump on his left arm and his resolve hardened. 'My lifelong mission is to one day defeat Voltan in the Arena, but before I have a of training to do and I need a good Denul healer to patch me up. But before I do that...' Kellon smiled to himself all of a sudden. 'I need to book me a place at The Golden Dragon... and a pleasurable way to spend the night.' As he left the Arena for 'The Golden Dragon' inn he stopped outside a long building with a group of good- looking women standing outside it. He looked at them, felt his coin purse and grinned.
Chapter 2
Relltre V'laskar was not in a good mood as he trudged along the mountain path on the way to the town of D'rekenor. 'Why the hell do I always have to put my neck on the line to help people I don't even know?' He thought clenching his fists into a tight ball. He looked back at the four T'lortiste Andii bodies lying dead on the roadside. One of them had a huge slash across his stomach and a small fire was smouldering where he had been cut. The second man's body was lying dead next to a pool of blood; his head had rolled several feet away and the last two bodies were female. One of them had a huge hole through her chest and the other had no physical injuries but was victim to the dread killing spell "T'lor Zenrada". 'Three assassins trying to kill an innocent women and what do I do? I try and be the hero. God I'm an idiot, that cow assassin with the Zenrada spell nearly killed me.' He squeezed the bandage round his hip harder and more blood soaked into it; he winced in pain. He had killed the first two T'lortiste easily enough with a combination of his Hellion training, twin Pyro swords and a hefty element of surprise. The third T'lortiste put up a good fight though and for Relltre's trouble's she killed her target before he could save her. The fight between him and T'lortiste assassin had not lasted long though; the T'lortiste slashed him with a R'ashan Long knife and tried to fire the Zenrada killing spell at him but missed. Relltre then blocked her lunges with his long knife and tried to hack her with his Twin Pyro Swords, but she was good and was very quick. Relltre then kicked her in the stomach, stepped back and fired a very powerful Hellion Pyro spell at her. The flame beam blasted straight through her stomach and killed her instantly. He sighed to himself, 'I may hate being a do-gooder, but still, better being a do-gooder that an evil murderer.' He sighed again. 'Hopefully there's some good Denul healers in D'rekenor and speaking of evil murderers... I could murder some of that fine Drifton Ale they have there.' He sighed a time. 'If that Drifton Ale's half as good as they it is then it must be pretty damn good.' He smiled to himself. 'Look like the day's gonna finally look up.'
Chapter 3
The 30 league long valley know as Gellor Ridge was famous for the many armies that had passed through it and the many battles that had been fought there. Though no army had used it for centuries; only merchants and circus troupes travel it. Though now was an exception; a hundred thousand strong Kallorian army lead by Dassem Ultar and Cotillion were marching through it. The thunderous noise was deafening, especially to Conn as he crouched down on the top the left cliff. As he watched he shivered both inwardly and out. "Dante take me", he whispered to himself. The Reaver wasn't experienced at assassinating legends; the most 'important' person he'd ever assassinated was a fat Aristocrat with a pompous swagger. As Conn watched he clutched his crossbow and aimed at Cotillions head. "Gods they send me to my doom; why the hell did they assign me of all people to assassinate the King Of Assassins?' As Conn watched he saw Cotillion turn his head towards the top of the opposite cliff... and then towards him. To his horror, he thought saw The Kallorian King wink at him; he sank back clutching himself. "Gods above, just my imagination; God get a grip Conn you idiot you're losing it." The thought reassured him as he cocked his crossbow and fired, but to his horror... Cotillion was not there were he should be. He heard breathing behind him. "Source save me", he whimpered.
The Misted Falcon Inn had never seen so many customers before; customers had literally bombarded it all week. All kinds of people wanting all kinds of things; travellers wanting a place for the night, mercenaries, circus troupes, in fact Swift noted that every known race in Pallor had came in either for a drink, a meal, certain forms of... pleasure, a place to stay for the night or even a fight. But the main reason had to be the legendary Drifton Ale that was brewed and chilled only in D'rekenor. Served Ice cold and so refreshing that most people drank at least five or six pints of it before they left and by then they had gotten very either giddy or completely drunk. Even when it was freezing cold in winter The Misted Falcon still had the magical Butterbrewers Hot Beer. But although hot bear doesn't sound too nice it isn't really a beer at all, it has certain magical elements in it that completely warms up the drinker and it tastes wonderful at the same time. Swift grinned, 'there's something for everything here in D'rekenor. Cold winters: warming Butterbrewers, hot summers: Ice Cold Drifton Ale. Even mighty fine women with sizeable backsides,' he thought eying up a tall Valpyre with long black hair and big boobs. He walked over to the bar tender but before he got there the door was pushed open and nearly knocked off its' hinges by a massive Hellion warrior. Everyone looked at him and they had good reason to; he was an immense, impressive figure standing six foot five and thick with muscle. Even though he wasn't 'flameraging' he still looked intensely fierce and not one to get into a fight with. The anticipation of what he was going to do was unbearable but to everyone's surprise he strode over to the Bar tender said softly. "Pint of some of that Drifton Ale will do nicely mate." "Alright, alright, just don't kill me." "Eh? You tryna be funny or something?" "What, er no." "I've killed enough people today, in fact I've kept one of their heads in my bag, do you want to see it?" The Bar man whimpered pathetically and covered his eyes. "I'm joking you idiot now get up and serve a paying customer." "What you mean you'll not kill me... and pay?" "Dante's breath, if you don't give me that Ale I asked for I might be tempted to." The bar tender cried out again but quickly whipped up some Ale for the Hellion. "Thank God for that, I thought Anharat would turn straight before you got it into your head that I just want to get drunk and have some fun with the women around here." Swift roared with laughter just like everyone else in the Bar; he misjudged the Hellion like most others in the Bar. 'He does have a sense of humour then and a pretty damn good one at that.' The Hellion looked around the Bar and saw that the only seat was the one next to Swift. He hesitated but decided to take a seat next to the Valpyre. Swift looked awkward for a minute but decided to make conversation. "I take it you're new around these parts." The Hellion nodded and twiddled his fingers. "That was pretty funny back there, I was expecting you to burn the man to hell." The Hellion snorted and replied. "I'm not like that, I mean don't get me wrong, I can kill someone if I wish... or incinerate them. But not an innocent bar tender that looks like he could get the crap kicked out of him by a Rabbit." Swift grinned. "So what do you do then Valpyre?" "I'm a... hunter." "It's damn hard to creep up on Deer before they run away... believe me I've tried." "I don't hunt Deer, I hunt... people." The Hellion saw the shruiken throwing stars and poisoned bolts tied to Swifts belt "Oh I see, so you're a Reaver then?" Swift look at the Hellion darkly. "So what's your name assassin?" "The few who know me call me Swift, you can do the same. So what do they call you? Carrot Top? Fireclause?" "Insult me again and I may be inclined to burn you." The Hellion looked annoyed for a minute then relaxed. "Every Reaver belongs to a guild, what guild are you from?" "Vorkans guild." "She's a women isn't she?" "Yeah, T'lortiste as well... very quick and an expert at the Zenrada killing spell." Relltre winced, 'crap, I hope he wasn't too fond of her.' Relltre looked at him long and hard. "Were... were you friends?" "Yes and before you ask we are JUST friends, not lovers.... And why did you use past tense?" Relltre's heart sank as he looked at Swift. "Never let these scum bags give you a mission you know you will die from." Swift thought of Conn, clenched his fists and hissed a combo of swearwords.
Chapter 4
Conn had never before felt fear such as this in his life; sweat trickled down his forehead though his heart felt like ice. 'I'm just a goddamn recruit! Why the hell did they send me on a mission that a veteran, let alone me would fail?' He silently asked himself, cursing the uppers. 'God I'm going to die.' A last desperate thought crossed his mind as he held his beloved throwing knife. "I haven't failed yet", he hissed at himself as he hurled the throwing knife at where Cotillion had stood just seconds ago. The knife flew through air and struck a rock with a loud clank; a cold voice sounded behind him. "Oh but you have," Conn whirled round to face the 'King of Assassins'. "Some Reaver you are; Dante's balls they are supposed to be the best. You're not even distinctly above average." "Heeven scum..." Conn hissed with malice clenching his fists. "Silence you insolent fool, you're arrogance will be purified with pain." Cotillion drew a skinning knife. "No... not that way." Conn pleaded. The King of assassins punched him in the face and was about to skin the Reaver alive when screams and shouts sounded from in the valley. "Cotillion you moron." Dassesm Ultar roared from the bottom of the cliff. "Leave your... hobbies for a minute, we've got trouble." "What the hell!" "Hellions... five thousand of them... and by god they're pissed off at something." Cotillion cursed, but after a moment turned to Conn and looked at him with cold menace. He grinned evilly and whispered. "One day you will wake up in your bed, sweat trickling down your brow, terror gripping you. One day you will wake up your bed numb with cold; ice flowing through your veins. That day you will know fear. That day you will know... I am coming for you."
Voltan seldom pondered the thought of deserting Anharats' command but after the massacre of Dretonan, the thought burned brightly. ' I am not evil' he often tried to convince himself time and again, 'Anharat is the evil one,  I am like a sheep.' But as much as that thought comforted him, at the same time it burned him up inside. He could not come to terms with being "a sheep"; he always wanted to be the "shepherd", not a mindless idiot who kissed Anharats' ass just because he has complete power. At the time the prospect of being a "Kallorian King Of Chaos" seemed thrilling beyond belief but after a few years of warfare, chaos and killing he wondered whether he made the right choice. He tried to justify this with the fact that he was ready to move on; there was no challenge in the arenas for the greatest swordsmaster in Pallor. In his whole career he had to opponents worthy of fighting him. One was gladiator 2, a Kallorian Necro Blade user named Kellon and the other wasn't very well remembered but he was a master with the twin Pyro swords that he carried. Voltan vaguely recalled that the Hellion warrior called himself Relltre V'laskar. 'God damn he was good.' He clutched the scar on his ribcage where the Hellion not only slashed him but burned him as well. 'Damn Pyroswords and damn Relltre V'laskar,' it had taken ten Denul healers to save the Kallorian and heal the burn, it still hadn't completely healed either. Voltan won eventually by parrying a shot to the abdomen and hacking at Relltre's jaw. Blood sprayed everywhere but as it wasn't a death dual the blow didn't kill him, although he collapsed to the ground unconscious and bleeding. He had then been rushed to the nearest "healing room" for treatment. Voltan swore as he recalled that he too had collapsed onto the ground trying to bear the searing pain burning his ribcage. 'My past is plagued with too much violence and death, god I cannot stay under Anharat's command for too much longer.' He looked up at the great Circus Palantes, feeling the roar of the crowd surge through his veins. Today would be a good match, Gladiator 1 and Gladiator 2 in a death dual. 'I was here once, fighting Kellon; the day I was made a Kallorian King Of Chaos.' He walked over to the ticket man. "Aren't we an elegant sir," the ticket man sneered. "Chiatzian silks, ooh and what a fine sword you have, I'm afraid you are not permitted to carry it into the arena. Not with all the nobles that will be attending, I'm afraid you'll have to hand that over." Voltan glared at him with steely eyes and withdrew the sword; the gold and diamond embodied handle glinted in the sunlight. "Dante's curse," the man hissed, "Stormbreaker!" The mans eyes were wide open as he stared at the tall Kallorian swordsmaster. "Vo... Voltan... forgive me for my impotence." Voltan withdrew 30 Jian and was about to pay the man but before he could the Ticket man muttered. "G... go, hell you can get in for free if you wish." He gave him a golden ticket. "Best s... stand for the best s... swordsmaster." Voltan sheathed his sword and made his way to the allocated seat. 'Hmm, not too bad being a Kallorian King, I guess there are some nice... freebies as a reward for the troubles.'
For centuries the war between the Kallorians and the Valpyre had raged, both sides fighting so ruthlessly and powerfully that the realm of Pallor plunged into complete and utter chaos. The Kallorian hordes lead by the Kallorian kings of Chaos decimated the Valpyre legions in catastrophic clashes, which saw many die. . The Hellion race decided that they could no longer avoid the Great War so the Hellion Mercenary legions fought for the Valpyre. Many sought refuge in the fact that the war couldn't get any worse... but it did. Thousands of P'rell Logros were spawned by Anharat and Cerunnos, T'lortiste Andii joined the horror that was the 'First Age Of Darkness' bringing with them unheard of sorcery that created catastrophic anomaly. Huge displays of sorcery that wiped out whole areas became common happenings... the nightmare continued. However, after years of Kallorian domination... a group of nine found the courage to stand up to the Kallorian kings of chaos. When the battle between the nine chosen Valpyre against the Kallorian Kings of Chaos raged... the result was catastrophic. Though the Valpyre chosen ones managed to overcome the Kallorian Kings and killed all of them. Though seven of the Valpyre died in the battle, only one survived... Dragorian the Pyromancer, with his sword of fire. He alone brought a treaty between the two races and for centuries peace reigned in the realm of Pallor. It was times of great peace where Kallorians and Valpyre could live together in peace and harmony. Though... everything went inevitably... wrong. Huge clouds formed in the sky, blocking out the sun, blocking out most heat and light. Colossal statues erupted from the ground, out of nowhere, illuminated with fire. ... Nine... Nine statues of Kallorians; hundreds of feet high they towered above all. Though none could figure out why nine huge statues of the Kallorian Kings of Chaos had erupted from the ground. Similarly none could figure out why clouds blocking the sun had come from nowhere bringing with them massive storms. Though when a silver beam of light with an area of 10 leagues fired out of the middle of nowhere resurrecting the raised fortress of the nine kings... it became clear that a mad Kallorian Necromancer had brought back from the dead the Kallorian kings of Chaos. Now the war between Kallorians and Valpyre rages once again... and once again the Kallorian Kings of Chaos have raised huge hordes to conquer the lands of Pallor once again. Dragorian of the Valpyre leads the legions to once again kill the Kallorian kings of Chaos and bring back peace to Pallor. But when he is assassinated... everything spirals out of control. With the Kallorian Kings hell bent on evil and a ruthless army behind them, Pallor is in need of heroes... Pallor is in need of people who have the courage to stand up to the Kings... and save Pallor from the hands of Darkness once again.
"From Darkness Comes Light and from Light... comes Darkness." 'Sayings of the damned.'
Chapter 1
The rain poured down and the thunder rolled across the night sky as Kellon stood in the middle of the ancient Circus E'rises Gladiator Arena. The Arena was shut down long ago when The Kallorian Kings of Chaos swept across the city of P'retoria with their hordes and destroyed many of the buildings and killed many people. That was three hundred years ago and now the many other leading Circuses were the fulcrum of the entertainment in P'retoria. As Kellon stood there, the rain battering him, he remembered... he remembered when he fought Voltan in this very arena over three hundred and fifty years ago. Voltan was the best gladiator Pallor had ever known, every fight he went into... he won within minutes, sometimes seconds. 'God how insane was I to challenge Gladiator One to a death dual?' Kellon pondered looking solemn. It was a famous fight, Gladiator 1 vs. Gladiator 2 in a death dual. The biggest crowd any Arena in Pallor had ever seen attended the 'match. Millions of jian were bet on the fight. 'That was the only death dual Voltan never killed the opponent and he was about to kill me. He had me beat, he had my life at his mercy and just as he was about to deliver the killing blow and send my life to Dante... Anharat came for him. God I remember the chaos, the sky went black and all felt... lifeless.' He shuddered at the memory, that was the last 'match' E'rises had every held, it was the longest Voltan ever took to beat an opponent. 'Fifty minutes that fight lasted... a record for any Arena. I was a legend in my prime.' Kellon thought to himself fondly. As the lightning illuminated the stands, more memories came back to him. 'I remember every word Anharat said to him. "I see your talent, it burns like a Hellion. I would unify you within yourself, I would complete you, and I would make you what you were born to be. I would make you a Kallorian King, a leader of the rightful race of Pallor, come with me and I would... illuminate the full extent of your power." Voltan considered it for a moment and said to me in a low tone, "You are lucky we did not finish our duel for your broken body would be lying on the floor in a pool of blood." He looked at Anharat and the Overlord knew Voltans' answer. He nodded solely to Anharat and started walking out of the arena but before he left he said to me. "We will one day finish this duel Gladiator 2, in this very place. You will not escape me then."' Kellon knew after that fight he could not be gladiator 2 because of the horrific injuries Voltan had given him. He felt the stump on his left arm and his resolve hardened. 'My lifelong mission is to one day defeat Voltan in the Arena, but before I have a of training to do and I need a good Denul healer to patch me up. But before I do that...' Kellon smiled to himself all of a sudden. 'I need to book me a place at The Golden Dragon... and a pleasurable way to spend the night.' As he left the Arena for 'The Golden Dragon' inn he stopped outside a long building with a group of good- looking women standing outside it. He looked at them, felt his coin purse and grinned.
Chapter 2
Relltre V'laskar was not in a good mood as he trudged along the mountain path on the way to the town of D'rekenor. 'Why the hell do I always have to put my neck on the line to help people I don't even know?' He thought clenching his fists into a tight ball. He looked back at the four T'lortiste Andii bodies lying dead on the roadside. One of them had a huge slash across his stomach and a small fire was smouldering where he had been cut. The second man's body was lying dead next to a pool of blood; his head had rolled several feet away and the last two bodies were female. One of them had a huge hole through her chest and the other had no physical injuries but was victim to the dread killing spell "T'lor Zenrada". 'Three assassins trying to kill an innocent women and what do I do? I try and be the hero. God I'm an idiot, that cow assassin with the Zenrada spell nearly killed me.' He squeezed the bandage round his hip harder and more blood soaked into it; he winced in pain. He had killed the first two T'lortiste easily enough with a combination of his Hellion training, twin Pyro swords and a hefty element of surprise. The third T'lortiste put up a good fight though and for Relltre's trouble's she killed her target before he could save her. The fight between him and T'lortiste assassin had not lasted long though; the T'lortiste slashed him with a R'ashan Long knife and tried to fire the Zenrada killing spell at him but missed. Relltre then blocked her lunges with his long knife and tried to hack her with his Twin Pyro Swords, but she was good and was very quick. Relltre then kicked her in the stomach, stepped back and fired a very powerful Hellion Pyro spell at her. The flame beam blasted straight through her stomach and killed her instantly. He sighed to himself, 'I may hate being a do-gooder, but still, better being a do-gooder that an evil murderer.' He sighed again. 'Hopefully there's some good Denul healers in D'rekenor and speaking of evil murderers... I could murder some of that fine Drifton Ale they have there.' He sighed a time. 'If that Drifton Ale's half as good as they it is then it must be pretty damn good.' He smiled to himself. 'Look like the day's gonna finally look up.'
Chapter 3
The 30 league long valley know as Gellor Ridge was famous for the many armies that had passed through it and the many battles that had been fought there. Though no army had used it for centuries; only merchants and circus troupes travel it. Though now was an exception; a hundred thousand strong Kallorian army lead by Dassem Ultar and Cotillion were marching through it. The thunderous noise was deafening, especially to Conn as he crouched down on the top the left cliff. As he watched he shivered both inwardly and out. "Dante take me", he whispered to himself. The Reaver wasn't experienced at assassinating legends; the most 'important' person he'd ever assassinated was a fat Aristocrat with a pompous swagger. As Conn watched he clutched his crossbow and aimed at Cotillions head. "Gods they send me to my doom; why the hell did they assign me of all people to assassinate the King Of Assassins?' As Conn watched he saw Cotillion turn his head towards the top of the opposite cliff... and then towards him. To his horror, he thought saw The Kallorian King wink at him; he sank back clutching himself. "Gods above, just my imagination; God get a grip Conn you idiot you're losing it." The thought reassured him as he cocked his crossbow and fired, but to his horror... Cotillion was not there were he should be. He heard breathing behind him. "Source save me", he whimpered.
The Misted Falcon Inn had never seen so many customers before; customers had literally bombarded it all week. All kinds of people wanting all kinds of things; travellers wanting a place for the night, mercenaries, circus troupes, in fact Swift noted that every known race in Pallor had came in either for a drink, a meal, certain forms of... pleasure, a place to stay for the night or even a fight. But the main reason had to be the legendary Drifton Ale that was brewed and chilled only in D'rekenor. Served Ice cold and so refreshing that most people drank at least five or six pints of it before they left and by then they had gotten very either giddy or completely drunk. Even when it was freezing cold in winter The Misted Falcon still had the magical Butterbrewers Hot Beer. But although hot bear doesn't sound too nice it isn't really a beer at all, it has certain magical elements in it that completely warms up the drinker and it tastes wonderful at the same time. Swift grinned, 'there's something for everything here in D'rekenor. Cold winters: warming Butterbrewers, hot summers: Ice Cold Drifton Ale. Even mighty fine women with sizeable backsides,' he thought eying up a tall Valpyre with long black hair and big boobs. He walked over to the bar tender but before he got there the door was pushed open and nearly knocked off its' hinges by a massive Hellion warrior. Everyone looked at him and they had good reason to; he was an immense, impressive figure standing six foot five and thick with muscle. Even though he wasn't 'flameraging' he still looked intensely fierce and not one to get into a fight with. The anticipation of what he was going to do was unbearable but to everyone's surprise he strode over to the Bar tender said softly. "Pint of some of that Drifton Ale will do nicely mate." "Alright, alright, just don't kill me." "Eh? You tryna be funny or something?" "What, er no." "I've killed enough people today, in fact I've kept one of their heads in my bag, do you want to see it?" The Bar man whimpered pathetically and covered his eyes. "I'm joking you idiot now get up and serve a paying customer." "What you mean you'll not kill me... and pay?" "Dante's breath, if you don't give me that Ale I asked for I might be tempted to." The bar tender cried out again but quickly whipped up some Ale for the Hellion. "Thank God for that, I thought Anharat would turn straight before you got it into your head that I just want to get drunk and have some fun with the women around here." Swift roared with laughter just like everyone else in the Bar; he misjudged the Hellion like most others in the Bar. 'He does have a sense of humour then and a pretty damn good one at that.' The Hellion looked around the Bar and saw that the only seat was the one next to Swift. He hesitated but decided to take a seat next to the Valpyre. Swift looked awkward for a minute but decided to make conversation. "I take it you're new around these parts." The Hellion nodded and twiddled his fingers. "That was pretty funny back there, I was expecting you to burn the man to hell." The Hellion snorted and replied. "I'm not like that, I mean don't get me wrong, I can kill someone if I wish... or incinerate them. But not an innocent bar tender that looks like he could get the crap kicked out of him by a Rabbit." Swift grinned. "So what do you do then Valpyre?" "I'm a... hunter." "It's damn hard to creep up on Deer before they run away... believe me I've tried." "I don't hunt Deer, I hunt... people." The Hellion saw the shruiken throwing stars and poisoned bolts tied to Swifts belt "Oh I see, so you're a Reaver then?" Swift look at the Hellion darkly. "So what's your name assassin?" "The few who know me call me Swift, you can do the same. So what do they call you? Carrot Top? Fireclause?" "Insult me again and I may be inclined to burn you." The Hellion looked annoyed for a minute then relaxed. "Every Reaver belongs to a guild, what guild are you from?" "Vorkans guild." "She's a women isn't she?" "Yeah, T'lortiste as well... very quick and an expert at the Zenrada killing spell." Relltre winced, 'crap, I hope he wasn't too fond of her.' Relltre looked at him long and hard. "Were... were you friends?" "Yes and before you ask we are JUST friends, not lovers.... And why did you use past tense?" Relltre's heart sank as he looked at Swift. "Never let these scum bags give you a mission you know you will die from." Swift thought of Conn, clenched his fists and hissed a combo of swearwords.
Chapter 4
Conn had never before felt fear such as this in his life; sweat trickled down his forehead though his heart felt like ice. 'I'm just a goddamn recruit! Why the hell did they send me on a mission that a veteran, let alone me would fail?' He silently asked himself, cursing the uppers. 'God I'm going to die.' A last desperate thought crossed his mind as he held his beloved throwing knife. "I haven't failed yet", he hissed at himself as he hurled the throwing knife at where Cotillion had stood just seconds ago. The knife flew through air and struck a rock with a loud clank; a cold voice sounded behind him. "Oh but you have," Conn whirled round to face the 'King of Assassins'. "Some Reaver you are; Dante's balls they are supposed to be the best. You're not even distinctly above average." "Heeven scum..." Conn hissed with malice clenching his fists. "Silence you insolent fool, you're arrogance will be purified with pain." Cotillion drew a skinning knife. "No... not that way." Conn pleaded. The King of assassins punched him in the face and was about to skin the Reaver alive when screams and shouts sounded from in the valley. "Cotillion you moron." Dassesm Ultar roared from the bottom of the cliff. "Leave your... hobbies for a minute, we've got trouble." "What the hell!" "Hellions... five thousand of them... and by god they're pissed off at something." Cotillion cursed, but after a moment turned to Conn and looked at him with cold menace. He grinned evilly and whispered. "One day you will wake up in your bed, sweat trickling down your brow, terror gripping you. One day you will wake up your bed numb with cold; ice flowing through your veins. That day you will know fear. That day you will know... I am coming for you."
Voltan seldom pondered the thought of deserting Anharats' command but after the massacre of Dretonan, the thought burned brightly. ' I am not evil' he often tried to convince himself time and again, 'Anharat is the evil one,  I am like a sheep.' But as much as that thought comforted him, at the same time it burned him up inside. He could not come to terms with being "a sheep"; he always wanted to be the "shepherd", not a mindless idiot who kissed Anharats' ass just because he has complete power. At the time the prospect of being a "Kallorian King Of Chaos" seemed thrilling beyond belief but after a few years of warfare, chaos and killing he wondered whether he made the right choice. He tried to justify this with the fact that he was ready to move on; there was no challenge in the arenas for the greatest swordsmaster in Pallor. In his whole career he had to opponents worthy of fighting him. One was gladiator 2, a Kallorian Necro Blade user named Kellon and the other wasn't very well remembered but he was a master with the twin Pyro swords that he carried. Voltan vaguely recalled that the Hellion warrior called himself Relltre V'laskar. 'God damn he was good.' He clutched the scar on his ribcage where the Hellion not only slashed him but burned him as well. 'Damn Pyroswords and damn Relltre V'laskar,' it had taken ten Denul healers to save the Kallorian and heal the burn, it still hadn't completely healed either. Voltan won eventually by parrying a shot to the abdomen and hacking at Relltre's jaw. Blood sprayed everywhere but as it wasn't a death dual the blow didn't kill him, although he collapsed to the ground unconscious and bleeding. He had then been rushed to the nearest "healing room" for treatment. Voltan swore as he recalled that he too had collapsed onto the ground trying to bear the searing pain burning his ribcage. 'My past is plagued with too much violence and death, god I cannot stay under Anharat's command for too much longer.' He looked up at the great Circus Palantes, feeling the roar of the crowd surge through his veins. Today would be a good match, Gladiator 1 and Gladiator 2 in a death dual. 'I was here once, fighting Kellon; the day I was made a Kallorian King Of Chaos.' He walked over to the ticket man. "Aren't we an elegant sir," the ticket man sneered. "Chiatzian silks, ooh and what a fine sword you have, I'm afraid you are not permitted to carry it into the arena. Not with all the nobles that will be attending, I'm afraid you'll have to hand that over." Voltan glared at him with steely eyes and withdrew the sword; the gold and diamond embodied handle glinted in the sunlight. "Dante's curse," the man hissed, "Stormbreaker!" The mans eyes were wide open as he stared at the tall Kallorian swordsmaster. "Vo... Voltan... forgive me for my impotence." Voltan withdrew 30 Jian and was about to pay the man but before he could the Ticket man muttered. "G... go, hell you can get in for free if you wish." He gave him a golden ticket. "Best s... stand for the best s... swordsmaster." Voltan sheathed his sword and made his way to the allocated seat. 'Hmm, not too bad being a Kallorian King, I guess there are some nice... freebies as a reward for the troubles.'