Fury of the Maddened Warrior

June 15, 2009
By Scarletdragon89 BRONZE, San Antonio, Texas
Scarletdragon89 BRONZE, San Antonio, Texas
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Go not where the path may lead, instead go where there is no path and leave a trail.

The once peaceful village of Shang-Li could be seen in the distance, burning like a million embers. Villagers were running in panic, trying desperately to escape. But each one was picked off effortlessly by the Warrior, crazed and refusing to stop his rampage. The flames of his heart never subsided, only intensified as he killed more and more villagers. His bright silver hair rocked back and forth as he leaped forward to slash at yet another person. The Warrior was killing innocent children and their parents, and there was nothing he could do to stop. His sword, Exorbus, had been enchanted to make the wielder become filled with energy after each kill. The sword has another enchantment, however. Each time the sword-bearer kills, it fills the person with an insatiable desire to kill. Exorbus forces the bearer to stop by sending a wave of brutal pain down his spine, when it senses no other life in the vicinity. The last person to use this sword was his father. Fezzar looked around, pleased. He left the burning village, whistling for his horse. As he rode, he thought of his Master, and anticipated his arrival.

Roland Orrkal sat in his chair on the porch, watching the stars. He was an old man, and had seen many great things. Far beyond this village slept King Kale, the ruler of the East. Often called the Black Menace, the King takes innocent villagers and burns them, with the whole village forced to watch. The tyrant uses his funds for meaningless searches, such as gathering a battalion of knights to try to look for and kill the monster that has been terrorizing the East for quite some time. He failed, of course. Most people call it the Hell beast, but more religious people call it the son of Satan. Some claim to have seen it, but those kinds of people are believed to be insane. Roland smiled bitterly. How ironic. The King seeks to help us, yet he burns his own people with great pleasure. Many years ago, Roland formed a rebel group called the Warrior’s Guild, and he trained them to be the best warriors in the land of Korcha. But they split up after two of their own was killed by a traitor, and Roland was almost killed too. He would have died if his son hadn’t been there; Fezzar drove the attacker away after his mother was killed. The old man focused on the stars again. He heard crickets chirping, and he smiled as his eyes closed. Everyone in the village was asleep by now, and far away, the Hell beast stirred.

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