Standard Disclaimer: Oh, Namco! Why dost thou own Soul Calibur?

Sorry for the wait, but now it's time for chapter 1! This should give you a pretty good view of my writing style.

And now… Let's begin!

Vile brought his arm up to cover his eyes from the burning sun. The warm air greeted his hard, emotionless face as he walked up the stone steps into what seemed like a whole new world. He had been beneath the earth for five years without contact to the outside world until that strange man came to him. Now, as his eyes focused on his surroundings, he could feel the breeze and hear the birds. After so long, they troubled him. The scent of anything but damp, stagnant air was unfamiliar to him, and now as the smell of greenery took over his senses, he truly realized how long he was down there.

His sight was still blurred, but he looked down at himself, expecting to undergo a fit, but he did not. His eyes had used to be green, but after the third piece of Soul Edge was put inside him, they were tainted and became a deep blood red. He reverted his gaze to his surroundings. The once lively Romanian village where he had lived was destroyed. Houses lay in ruin and everything else was reduced to rubble. Vines and weeds had grown over everything. A rabbit scurried into the brush upon seeing the man.

Vile shook his head to filter his thoughts. "I must focus on my objective," he said, and twitched. It had been a long time since he heard his own voice, which was deep and rigid after years of being sheltered. It sounded as if everything but cold emotion had been drained from his voice over the years. It was clearly the voice of a troubled individual.

He wandered around the ruins of his home until he found a stone house, partially standing. He raised his arm and swung the Imperial Blade to cut overgrowth covering the doorway.

The inside was caved in and Vile could only take a few steps in before meeting with the wall. The sun shined in the now open door and made something catch Vile's eye. In the corner, beneath a stone, was an old belt- no doubt worn by someone five years ago. On the buckle, emblazoned in the silver was his extinct tribe's crest. He would take this with him on his journey. He had to keep his tribe alive…even in this small way.

As he stepped outside with his sword in one hand and the belt in the other, he looked down at himself once again, this time regarding the rags he was wearing. His presence was not that of a warrior, he hadn't even kept his hair under control. What need was there for that in an underground prison? If he was going to be present in the world, he would have to be dressed more appropriately. He fixed his short black hair to be acceptable and after searching the village he found a tattered black robe.

It wasn't much, but it would cover him better than his rags.

He promptly slid the robe over his trim but solid body and fastened the belt to his waist. His next goal was to find a way to make some money for his journey. Vile had no idea where to start and he figured he would be traveling great distances. For that, he decided, he would some money.

For what seemed to be a lifetime ago, he was once told of a coliseum to the west of the village. Nobles would gather there and bet on peoples' lives.

"So I'm to compete." Vile spoke aloud to himself in order to get used to his own voice as he determined which direction was west.

He didn't want to have to kill anyone, but the metal shards inside him desired differently. Vile noticed that as he thought of having to kill someone, he felt desperately hungry.

Without another thought about that, the black robed man slung his sword over his shoulder and began walking west.

He thought to himself, "I wonder exactly how far west I need to walk. I've never been too far from the village."

So through the woods he walked. He recognized the surroundings fairly well for someone who had been away for five years. Soon, he would come to a field he used to train in. But now he had no elders to train with…he had no one. When he arrived at the clearing, it seemed to have been the only thing unchanged since Viles's last memories of the place. It was still a thirty-yard patch of dirt where he first picked up a sword. The largest tree still had a rope dangling from one of its branches, on which used to hang a straw dummy.

A normal man would have smiled at the nostalgia, but Vile's face remained stoic. He remembered, and was filled with sadness. There was no one left like him. His kind was considered evil among other people. Vile could not even touch another human being without harming them. His pain could not be understood. Perhaps, he had forgotten how to smile.

"I have lost everything…" he nearly whispered, and continued walking.

Vile was too consumed in his dismal thoughts of past to notice how far he walked, but suddenly he was standing on the outskirts of a town. The sun was now setting and Vile's legs ached, so it seemed he had trekked a fairly large distance.

Ignoring the pain in his legs, he walked into town. The houses and buildings here were much larger than the ones in Vile's own village. He spotted an older woman carrying a basket of fruit. She looked up from he bundle as Vile approached. The young man cleared his throat and spoke slightly louder than he meant to.

"Do you know where the battle arena is?"

The woman jolted and her eyes widened. "I don't know what you're talking about!" she replied and hurried off. Perhaps it was because he almost yelled at her that she was scared of him. Or perhaps it was the large sword propped on his shoulder; either way, the woman was gone and Vile had no information.

His eyes searched for anyone who would appear to know something about the arena. In the distance he saw a cart lined with what looked like merchandise. A traveling salesman, maybe? He began walking to the cart, and the people around him stared and murmured to each other about the strange man in tattered clothes. Vile ignored them.

The shopkeeper was a man who appeared to be in his forties. "Welcome! Can I help you with anything?"

Vile looked at what was hanging from the cart: dead animal carcasses, counterfeit jewelry, quills kept in bad condition. "Perhaps. I need some information." His voice was now of appropriate volume. "Is there a coliseum around here where I can make some money?"

The salesman raised his hands. "Shh! That's an underground organization! If too many people find out, it could be shut down!" Vile thought he had been being quiet.

"So you know where it is?"

"Yeah I know where it is," he pointed south. "It's seven or eight miles that way. But try not to say anything to about it to anyone along the way."

Vile thanked the man and left in the direction he had been shown.

By nightfall, he had walked about a mile and every time his mind wandered to the battles he was to fight, his body screamed with hunger. But Vile knew he could not give in to the evil inside him.

He kept walking for anther two hours until he came to the Mediterranean Sea. There was no arena anywhere in sight. Had the shopkeeper lied to him? Then again, he did say it was a secret organization- maybe it was hidden? He decided to trust the words of the man and search for this secret arena. It wasn't long until Vile came to a cove with a deep cave carved into it. Inside were the lights of torches and the noise of many people cheering. He had no doubt that this was the coliseum he sought, for the scent of blood was in the air. The metal shards throbbed.

The arena was sunk into the cave about sixty feet. It was obviously modeled after the Ancient Roman Coliseum. The walls were lined with hundreds of seats for spectators. The cave's roof was forty feet high, so there were two layers of stands. Arches kept the walls of the cave supported and over one of the largest arches was a balcony for what probably was the proprietor of the arena. A few small boats rested on the water. The battlefield was a twenty-foot by twenty-foot stone platform with a large torch in each corner.

Occupying the battlefield now was a large man with a horned helmet, and a much smaller man who looked like he didn't stand a chance. As Vile thought this, the larger of the two men brought his oversized mace to meet his opponents' head. A deafening crack could hardly be heard over the crowd's joyous cheers.

"These people are all monsters," Vile thought.

Two men dressed in identical tunics carried the limp corpse of the man off the platform and the victor of the bought cried in a thick English accent, "Willingness to fight is not courage!" The crowd cheered louder.

"Hey!" A man in a red robe pointed to Vile. "Who are you?"

Vile took his sword off his shoulder and brandished it. "I fight."

The man studied Vile's clothes. "You?" he snorted, "alright kid, but this guy's undefeated."

"So that means I'll win a lot of money, right?"

"Well…yeah. If you win, kid."

Vile nodded. "Good."

The man in red directed Vile onto the platform and grumbled something about not standing a chance.

Vile looked at his opponent's cloths. A thick animal carapace was draped over his massive shoulders, the claws of the unfortunate beast hung over his chest. At his waist was a tasset made from the same white animal hide. Metal bracers adorned his arms and on his feet were cloth shoes covered by metal shin guards. Chains crossed his front and sharp bone spikes rose from his shoulders. The most defining piece of his costume was a helmet shaped like a tiger's maw with tow curved horns coming from it. The man was a few inches shorter than Vile but his body was built gargantuan. He would be a good foe for Vile to test his sword skills on.

The man thumped the base of his giant mace on the wood floor, then raised it to a battle stance. "Let's see what you've got!"

Vile readied his sword by bringing it in front of him, both hands clenching the hilt. He shook his head. "It's been awhile."

Vs. Rock

The crowd began shouting for blood to be spilled, so Vile's opponent- who was announced as Rock- charged him with the horns on his helmet. He quick-stepped to the side and slapped Rock in the back with the flat side of his sword. The large man grunted loudly as he swung his maul behind him, simultaneously turning himself around. Vile easily dodged.

They stood facing each other for a moment before Rock charged again, this time with his weapon prepared to deal a deathblow to the man in black's head. Vile leapt high into the air and Rock's mace met with air. The crowd exploded with barbaric joy at the mysterious fighter's display of agility. They roared even loader upon Vile's landing behind Rock, and the shaft of the giant mace slamming into Vile's cheek.

Rock attempted to make contact again, but the Imperial Blade connected with the mace and both men fought to push the other away. Vile swiftly leapt backwards, catching the giant man off guard and forcing him to loose balance and stumble forward. The younger man viewed this opening and brought the pommel of his sword to Rock's face, breaking his nose.

He roared with pain and anger, and as he prepared to counterattack, he felt Vile's blade slice his forearm.

The strike happened in a flash of steel and Vile made sure to cut just deep enough to make him drop his weapon. Rock did just that and his weapon, the Onslaught, clanked heavily to the floor. Vile reared back and kicked the larger man hard in the chest, knocking him down. Rock looked up in defeat, his weapon out of his reach. Vile brought the cusp of his sword to his throat. His eyes darted to the wound on the man's arm. At the sight of blood, his body throbbed with a deep feeling of hunger. He pushed the feeling away, and the noise of the screaming crowd came back to his senses.

"Kill me!" the downed man yelled. "You have won. Kill me with honor, warrior!"

Vile paused for a moment. The spectators seemed to be growing restless to see someone die. Without a word, Vile slowly pulled the sword away from Rock's neck.

Rock was stunned. "You would…spare me now?"

Vile turned to look at the angry crowd, but addressed his opponent. "You don't need to die."

People began booing and throwing things at the two still-living men.

"You are kind, warrior." Rock climbed back to his feet. "But I sense an evil air around you. Could you have another reason for letting me live?"

Vile knew the evil energy he spoke of was coming from the metal pieces within him. "No. Unless you want me to kill you."

Rock chuckled. "Not at all. You have my gratitude for sparing my life."

The crowd was yelling for the next match to begin. "Where do I go to collect my money?"

Vile and Rock stepped off the battlefield. Both purses were a hefty sum of gold – Rock's was larger, however.

The large man turned to Vile "Where are you going? Why have you come to this location?"

After counting the gold he had earned, Vile answered. "I can't tell you that."

Rock nodded. "You must have your reasons for secrecy, warrior. Well, whatever it may be, I wish you luck."

"Thank you."

During the night, Vile wandered into another small town. When he arrived, it was a few hours before dawn so there was no one on the streets. He waited patiently by the door of what looked to be a shop of sorts. About a half-hour after sunrise, the town became a bit livelier. A few people could be seen going about their morning duties. A pretty young woman in a light blue maid's uniform unlocked the door Vile was waiting next to.

"Hi there," she said to him with a sweet smile. Vile nodded and stepped in after her. She stepped behind the counter and he looked around. All types of armor were displayed on tables and mounted on the walls. He admired a few of them then thought to himself for a moment about what he was going to buy.

"Can I help you find something?" the girl asked him from her spot behind the counter. She had been watching him since he walked in.

He walked up to the counter and held his sword out in front of him. "A sheath."

She studied the sword for a moment. "Hm… It's a bit wider that most forty-inch blades, but I think I can find something." She ducked behind the counter and disappeared for a few moments. The girl came back up with a black and gold scabbard of the appropriate size for the Imperial Blade. "Will this do?"

"It will." He paid her for the sheath, being careful not to let his skin touch hers, then considered to himself what to wear. He wanted to be able to go unnoticed at night, and he didn't want to wear clumsy armor. "I'm going to need some black traveling clothes."

"I can see that." She reached below the counter again and pulled up a set of thick pants and a black mail. Vile also purchased leather gloves, a cloth headband (to keep his hair under in hand), and leather boots that reached blow his knees. The color of his outfit was black for night travel, but he felt like something was missing.

He glanced at his poke of money before deciding to buy one more thing. "What do you have in the trench coat department?"

"One moment." She disappeared into another room, then came back with a folded black trench coat in her arms.

It was more expensive than Vile had hoped, but he felt better wearing it. He fastened the sheath to his back over the coat and threw away the old black robe he had had on. As he was walking out, the shopkeeper stopped him.

"Um, excuse me?" Vile turned around. "You will be traveling?" He nodded. "My sisters and I have shops in different areas of Europe. My name's Lynette. If you meet either of them, tell them you know me, they'll give you a discount."

"Thank you."

Vile left the town, now dressed for travel. He stood on a cliff overlooking a forest. Sleep was not an option for him. Weeks had passed before where he would not sleep; Soul Edge made sure to keep him up. But now he wasn't in the confinement of his underground prison, he was in a world he knew nothing about. He knew he wasn't far from home now, but soon would be. His search for Soul Edge was about to begin…but where to begin? As if to answer his heart's question, the pieces of the demon sword flooded his body with a feeling of being desperately lost, and as if to answer the metal shards' cries, Vile sensed evil energy to the north. The energy called to Vile and seemed to reach out for him.

What better place to start?

Now decided on his next destination, Vile followed the evil energy north, his trench coat flowing behind him. Soul Edge would be his.

Sooooo? What do you think? How's the first chappie? I have re-vamped this chapter, fixed typos and added a more in-depth description of Vile. If you want, re-read the beginning of the chapter to get a better visual of him. Reviews will be replied to via forum- click the link on my page. If you review, I promise I'll reply.

Soon to come… Chapter Two: The Misguided Angel of Death

You know what that means!

See you then.