Part 1: Exile
Chapter 1: Divine War
The streets of Ashtan were always loud, excited, and bustling with salesmen, street rats, actual rats, and the occasional young assassin trying to find work. There were no rules in the city, and the city Archons had no control over the actions of their people. Even the patron deity was often away, scouring the other planes of existence. This was the City of Freedom, and no matter how bad things were, no one truly cared as long as they were happy and not robbed of all their gold and bodily possessions just taking a walk down the wrong street. The city was also a perfect place for wanted felons, assassins, bounty hunters, and mercenaries to thrive.
Dariel could not bring himself to liking Ashtan, His spirit called out for pure evil and his mind could not stand the sheer lack of discipline, honor, and order present in the city. In his former home of Mhaldor, many of the insolent wretches would have been mercilessly slain for their lack of respect to leaders. Luckily for him, this was the City of Freedom, so no one questioned his presence. In any of the other three cities he had a choice of going to after leaving Mhaldor a year ago, he would have probably been kicked out the moment he stepped foot into their gates. In fact, he was infamous in all the other cities for participation in raids and other crimes and it was not like he could hide his appearance or class. His many-layered stygian full plate was blazoned with the signature Maldaathi crest on the right chest plate and a faded crest of the order of Sartan on the left. The reason why it was even there in the first place was because of Dariel's intense lust for evil. Being in an extremely high ranked position in the Maldaathi guild also meant that Dariel was no ordinary dark knight. The position required hereditary skills passed down through a primarily pure bloodline, transcendent knowledge of necromancy, swordsmanship, survival, and weaponry. The bloodline, however, left a scar on his face on the right side, a blackened scar in the shape of a mystical dragon. The rest of his face wasn't much better off; the scars there showed that he was a veteran warrior who had survived many battles.
Even though he had sworn revenge on the one who forced him to murder his friend, Dariel still had absolutely no idea who had done it, or where to even start looking for information. He also spoke to Lord Sartan numerous times after the incident, and it turned out the God of Evil did not want him dead, because He suspected treachery as well. His order members dared not defy Him, for fear of certain death or permanent placement in the torturous realm of the Underworld. To kill Sartan's right hand man was even worse than taking a blow at the Malicious One Himself. It was hard for Him to find worthy Tyranni; those who ruled over Mhaldor reigned for their whole lives. Sartan knew that Dariel could not have killed the previous Tyrannus; he was just too loyal to evil. But Mhaldor could not accept a man who, in the eyes of many, apparently murdered their leader, and the order could not either.
Although Dariel had no idea where to look, he had his suspicions. The Mhaldorian guild of Serpentlords, aptly named the Naga, in recent years had become a farce of its former glory. Even though it was as old as the Maldaathi guild, the Naga lost many of its members due to an insurrection that took place in Mhaldor twenty years past. The incident was never recorded, but either way, many well-known members took their leave and ever since, the guild was jealous of the success of the Maldaathi. Unfortunately for Dariel, he had no way of investigating further than what he already knew, since many of the members who left were assassinated shortly thereafter.
However, Dariel had no time to spend on his own investigations. Lord Sartan's mighty figure loomed over him now and boomed, "Dariel, you know that Shallam and Mhaldor have been at war for over one hundred years. My sources inform Me that Shallam has begun its plans for a final attack on Mhaldor. You are but a mere maggot in My eyes, but unfortunately, you are a powerful maggot. Your power is required in order for My city to survive. If you fail Me, you will suffer eternally. However, if you succeed, I may be inclined show you unimaginable strength, deep inside your own pitiful mortal soul. I have already informed the new Tyrannus and you are to report to island immediately. The attack will come within one day. Prepare yourself."