Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, guilds, cities, locations of this fan fiction. The owners of the MUD Achaea do.
Author's Note: Although the character name Dariel is mine, none of his character traits are actually what they are in the game, heh. In fact, he's not even a Maldaathi in game. Anyway, R&R please.
Dark Knight Chronicles
Prologue
The damp, humid air hung limp around him and tasted of the blood of a highly ranked necromancer. Dariel stood, motionless, on the thick puddle of blood on the stone tiled ground, pooling about the corpse splayed before him. He could not bring himself to move and an ominous feeling that somebody was watching him bothered him, but that was not his primary concern. The personal guards of the victim were moving in and Dariel knew that he was to be captured if he did not escape quickly. But his legs seemed incapable of movement, incapable of even the slightest twitch. However, it wasn't his body that resisted; it was his mind that disallowed his usually quick steps. For the necromancer he had just assassinated was none other than the Tyrannus of Mhaldor and also his best friend. Dariel had no idea what had happened, how it happened, or why it happened. He had been in a trance-like state and when he recovered, all he saw was the death encrusted eyes of the head of his friend staring up at him from the ground, seven meters away from its body. Recognizing the face instantly, all the knight could do was stand there, frozen, still gripping the blood-soaked twin broadswords in his hands.
A large group of guards flanked the doorway and entered cautiously, not knowing what to expect. Artimous, the Captain of the Guard walked took a peek inside, and recognized the two figures standing. He approached Dariel boldly, not knowing what the knight had done. As he drew closer, however, he saw something in Dariel's eyes that he had not seen in a long time in his commanding officer. Remorse. Suspicious but still respectful, he gave a quick salute and questioned Dariel.
"My liege, have you any idea who…" Just then, Artimous noticed the blood on Dariel's blade and gave a short grunting noise before unsheathing his own sword, and carefully stated, "Apologies, my lord, but you will have to come with us…or I will take you down myself."
Like that's even possible, Artimous thought to himself.
Dariel closed his eyes and gave a deep sigh before speaking in a barely audible, but determined tone," You and I both know, Artimous, that I did not do this purposefully. As there is no way to prove that, however, I will place myself under exile. Neither you nor your men are capable of stopping me, and I have no intention of placing myself under this city's corrupted court. I have killed His Tyrannus, and He will want my life. Although there is no way to stop Him from finding me…Well, I hope I shall have evidence by then."
The dark knight was shaking. He would have to give up his aspirations of ruling the evil city of Mhaldor under the God of Evil, Sartan, and he would have to leave his home, friends, guild, clan, and family. All for something he did not even remember doing. He would find who was truly responsible for the murder of his best friend or he would die trying. Dariel opened his eyes and saw the understanding face of Artimous, another of his close friends and a highly ranked officer in his guild, and immediately discontinued his trembling. He was the second highest ranked in his guild, holding the illustrious rank of Lord of Malevolence, and was definitely not afraid of a self-imposed exile. Slowly sheathing his bloody broadswords, Dariel walked out of the temple without being stopped, and finally out of his home of Mhaldor.
Artimous knew firsthand about the wrath of Lord Sartan, and silently wished his friend and previous commanding officer good luck.