Immortals...We have existed for years, decades, centuries, even millenniums. We have walked beside you for far longer than anyone, including ourselfs, can recall. The Rules are clear, The Game is at hand, The Gathering is approaching, and The Prize is being fought forWe all know 'There can Be Only One', but what we do not know is...who it will be.


Present day Pennsylvania - 1732

The crowd stood silent and listened in wonder at the outdoor sermon. The Preacher of the week paced the make shift wooden platform ranting, yelling and waving his worn out bible in the air like a madman.

"You are all sinners!" he declared unkindly. "…God's punishment for those who do not repent their sins is the fiery dungeons of Hell!"

Before he could say another word; "YOU FRAUD!" a voice screamed from the back of the crowd.

Everyone turned…everyone except for Alaric, who recognized the voice immediately. He closed his eyes and sighed in disappointment.

"What is he doing here?" he thought to himself. The crowd continued to stare and mumble at the interruption. Curtis Justin forced his way to the front of the multitude.

"I have seen death, a thousand times over!" He roared. Alaric stood helpless. He knew that he had to do something to stop the chaos before it began. He was just giving Alaric another mental reason for not trusting him. Alaric finally turned and faced him as he was still making his way to the front. He grabbed his arm as he walked by. Curtis stopped.

"That's enough, Curtis." Alaric said to him. Curtis looked at the hand that gripped him and slowly back at Alaric.

"Let go young shit; or would you prefer to lose that hand?"

Alaric nearly gagged when he smelled how strong his breath reeked of alcohol. Alaric was so furious at that moment that he wanted to beat the shit out of him.

"Calm down, Foreman" he thought to himself. He had a real short temper, especially when it came to Curtis, but he did his best to control it. There was something about the man that Alaric knew just wasn't right. But he didn't dare tell his father his suspicions.

Now that he had proof of Curtis's true colors, maybe his father would 'see the light' and force him out of their lives for good. Alaric worried constantly about the bond between Curtis and his father Walter. He always seemed to know when Curtis was around, even moments before he ever was in sight.

"Why are you here?" Alaric asked.

"I don't have to explain anything to you, now take your hands off me." he snapped back.

Alaric may have been angry, but he was not afraid. Growing up in the plains and wilderness taught him courage beyond his years. The crowd's frustration continued to grow.

"If you don't want to listen to God's word, that's fine, but leave the rest of us in peace."

"I would do as the young man says, sir" a man replied who had heard their conversation.

Curtis suddenly became exceedingly irritated. He yelled as loud as he could

"You want peace? You want truth?" He tightly clenched his fist and struck the man in the face like a snake attacking prey.

Alaric quickly tried to force him back, while others were not sure what to do. Curtis glanced at him with an evilness to his look that would have unnerved most anyone.

Before Alaric knew what was happening Curtis had already reached for his gun inside his coat and had it placed firmly on Alaric's chest. The last thing that he saw and heard was Curtis's sinister grin and the words "See ya 'round"