This story is brought to you by the Kaw Writers Competition. Please be respectful in your critic. Please read the main thread first before commenting. Main thread: viewtopic.php?f=8&t=166295 ----- It started one night, in the roaring wind and rain, swords clashing against each other. Stomachs disemboweled, chests and backs marred with the stinging pain from a slice of swords. Many were defenseless during this onslaught. Poor townspeople from the neighboring kingdom were subject to this brutality. Many cried out why when they were shoved to the ground, trying to crawl away the knights and soldiers easily catching them, stabbing them through the head. Blood oozing down their terrified faces, their tears mingling with the blood to lay with the other dead. It was a terrifying sight to see. A boy, huddled up in a small space within a tree. He shivered and quivered, seeing those he grew up with die before his bright blue eyes. Not 5 feet from him his dying mother. Her glassy eyes gazing into nothingness, but perhaps maybe into the eyes of death, a terrified face to see for the boy. He broke down and started sobbing, mostly for all the dead and mostly for himself. He would end up being an orphan and probably die of starvation. It was not that uncommon. On the days before this he would go around playing and see a dead man and a child or two skinny as can be, lying dead in clothes which you'd call rags. He shuddered at the thought. He saw so much this night. Heard the heart wrenching screams of those who could not escape death which came upon them so fast. A quick flash in his eyes, he resolved to get revenge upon those who had done this and perhaps even the monster who gave this vicious order to destroy all he loved. His childhood was over. ~10 years Later~ A young man sparring with his master. The young man was strong, youthful, and handsome. The master, old in age but not lacking strength, kept up with this young man. They had been fighting like this for over an hour. They both had speed, agility, and strength to match the other, this made the master very proud. "Belial." The master said suddenly. The young man lowered his sword. "What is it you need, Master?" The young man asked. He took the swords and sheathed them. Belial had a worried look on his face. He was concerned that his masters health was deteriorating. He had so much more to learn he felt. He needed the strength and skill to kill all those who were burned into his mind. His blue eyes blazed with the raging hatred he felt in his heart. "Belial, I fear I will not be with you much longer." The master said matter of factly. The master was not an ordinary man he had once in fact been a general for the kingdom that wrought the deep pains within Belial. The master himself was in pain. The guilt of all he slaughtered was at the forefront of his mind time and time again. He was ordered by the cruel king to destroy many a kingdom to just rubble and he did. He would see the faces of children, men, and women all bloody. Some faces distorted from the impact of large heavy maces cracking their skulls. It all was too much for him to take. He was on the verge of insanity before Belial came into his life. He vowed to teach, the young boy at the time, all he knew. Belial was his savior. There was a large amount of smoke filling the area. A funeral pyre built for the old master. Dressed in his finest robes he was lain up there. The cold look on his face. No one in that town respected him, but they did fear what the kingdom, with no kindness, would do to them if they let the old general rot in his bed. Many all sneered and spit on the pyre. Belial was the only one there when the last of the flames burnt away. There was a letter for Belial. It was written to him from the old master. This surprised him. "Belial, The demons of my past have caught up to me. I do not fear death. I shall end up in hell for all I've done. I have a parting gift for you and some information you so seek. The king that I was ruled under in the kingdom of death has long past before your town was slaughtered. It is his daughter you seek, the queen. She is the one behind all this madness now. She has an insatiable thirst for blood. Be wary. That's all I know of her. My gift for you is in the field under the second largest tree. You will need it. Go now and take vengeance. ~Apheriun" Belial set out to gather his gift under the tree. Entwined in the roots was a fairly large wooden chest almost looking like a coffin. He opened it. Inside he was surprised to find some armor and a very rare sword. The master had come through for him. He could really go now and take vengeance. He would make his way to the kingdom of death and slay the one behind his pains. Slay the queen! ~Days later~ Arriving at the gates. It's large stone walls reaching high into the sky. It looked deadly. Archers standing at the ready on the border of the high walls. It was amazing he was not shot down by arrows. It was the armor that accounted for his safety. He wore the armor of the knights that belonged here in this doomed place. He wore deathstalker armor. The blue and gold in his suit making his eyes glow all the brighter. He was let through the main gate and many after that. The enchantment on his armor was high giving him a prestigious look. He also looked quite deadly with a rare sword at his side, Soulreaper. He made it to the throne room before two men, guards, stopped him and asked him what he needed with the queen. He said he had news of death of an old general under her father's rule. They asked for the generals name. "Apheriun" he said. The two guards faces visibly changed from stern to being shaken. They gave him no more problems they let him through to see the queen. Stepping into the room. He felt strange. The room was beautiful. Belial was expecting to find it filled with bones or something more like a dungeon. The room was beautifully illuminated with many candles and a large fireplace. In the middle of the room facing the fireplace was a throne. Made of pure gold and gems of all sorts. She was sitting there in all that decadence. She had a general there talking to her about something of great importance it seemed. He slowly walked to the throne, his hand clutching the handle of his sword. He planned it all in his mind. Belial would bow then unsheathe his sword as fast as he could and run the entire blade through her stomach twisting and turning. Look at that beastly woman's face. Watching the look of her fear, the imminent knowledge of death to make her scream. Walking closer now he heard the mention of his old masters name. He had wondered earlier why the guards had such a face of fear. He was near the queen and the general. Belial cleared his throat and bowed, his hand was on the handle. He looked up at her face. It was amazing the sudden change of pace that ran through his mind. She was beautiful. Long luscious blonde waves framed her face, she had striking blue eyes that matched his own, and cute defiant pouty lips. He wondered how she could ruin his life the way she did that horrible night. He didn't know what to do he resolved not to kill her there. They both stopped their conversation. "What is it you need?" She said rather harshly. "I bring news of passing of the general under your fathers rule, Apheriun" Belial said. The queen and the general both gave each other a look. She continued asking questions. "How did he die?"she asked. He said matter of factly, "of old age, his health deteriorated overnight." The queen rose up suddenly. "What is your name boy" she said angrily. "Belial, your highness". "My sources tell me Apheriun is alive with an army of undead marching here now. I will have you gutted for spewing your garbage." The queen says. The general interrupts her, "Queen Arkosa, he's one of ours put him out on the front lines to better serve a purpose." She agrees to do so and let's him leave with his life. Belial calmly walks out of the throne room. He will find Apheriun and join his army. He will help slay her entire army and kingdom. It didn't take him long to find the army of undead. Their rotting flesh peeling slowly off their bodies. Rusting weaponry held by their ever clutching hands. He stepped up to the edge of Apheriun's camp. The undead saw him. Their eyes following him as he walked. The army suddenly rose. A gruesome sight. Suddenly they all said, "Our savior Belial." Suddenly Belial saw something appear out of nothingness. Red and blue flames shrouded the figure. A figure of death taken form Belial thought. The figure stepped up to him. It was in fact Apheriun his human flesh was all gone, burnt off in hell. He was a skeleton wearing remnants of what he had been burnt with on that pyre. Belial was more fearsome of how Apheriun came to be with the living once again. Apheriun spoke, "Belial you have given me life. With your quest I will assist. Belial my savior" he bowed and said with gratitude. "Belial our savior" said his entire army. Belial smiled that fire burning bright in his eyes. Tomorrow he will have his revenge. The sun rose. Illuminating the land. Shining upon meadows, trees, castles, and kingdoms in the distance. Apheriun along with Belial were on the move. Belial wearing the striking blue and gold deathstalker suit of armor it glinted and gleamed as he walked the beautiful black sword, Soulreaper, moving with him. Apheriun walked with the flames forever enshrouding him. He carries an abyssal sword with him. Striking power and force it contains. Along with Apheriun and Belial the great army of the undead, carrying swords, bows, daggers, and maces. Marching onward to Arkosa's castle, blood thirsty. Arkosa's kingdom standing tall and proud. She moved her forces to surround and protect her kingdom. Arkosa was out on the battlefield with her pet, Skorpios. A monster bred from the very pit of evil. A large arachnid containing venom it spews out from his stinger. Skorpios turns any grim battlefield into a nightmare. The enemy in sight Apheriun and Belial both ready for what is to come. Apheriun gives the order for archers to shoot down any within range. Apheriun then uses his mystical powers to set the arrows ablaze with his ever burning flame. Belial's heart beating loudly. This is the moment he's been waiting for. "ATTACK!!!" He yells from the depths of his soul. The archers let loose they're arrows, the undead army sprinting towards their enemy. Fear found in the hearts of the men at the front lines. They turn to run. These cowardly men slain in an instant swords daggers from hell burning into their flesh. Belial plunges his soulreaper into his enemy blood splattered onto his armor as he withdraws his blade. Victory coming one person at a time. Apheriun's undead army looking all the more fearsome. Blood coating them as they kill all they can. No regard or concern for their injury they slash, stab, and kill. Blood lust everywhere. Arkosa seeing her men start to flee she is enraged. Finally she engages Skorpios in the battle. With his large legs he steps forth into battle, bones snapping and blood bursting under foot. Apheriun sees the large arachnid coming towards him, he orders his army to cut away at the mighty legs. Skorpios tail slowly curling downward towards the undead to spray them with the deadly poison. Apheriun's archers shoot towards the monsters eyes. Skorpios starts to rear up crushing more undead and men. It's pincers snapping away at any it can find. Becoming less and less aware of who is who. Brutality, blood, and fear everywhere. Arkosa turning pale with disbelief. Belial watching her, trying to get close to her. Belial seeing his opportunity runs to Arkosa. She has a sting point blade in hand. He has his blade. A clash of metal on metal. They begin their battle. Nothing mattered more to Belial than to kill this woman right in front of him. His blade again crashed into hers several times. She lost her grip on her sting point and it flew several feet. Belial plunged Soulreaper into her heart. Not missing a beat. Her eyes gazed into him. The last word to be uttered from her mouth was.. "Why?"