• THE ANGEL OF DEATH SAGA
    BOOK ONE: THE ELEMENTAL WAR


    Prologue

    The sounds of warfare surrounded the dark one as he approached the Alter of fire. His ranger boots crunched the decrepit pathway with definition as he edged forward.
    “HALT!” A stranger demanded. The dark one turned slowly around. He laughed out loud as a company stood before him and started off again towards the Alter. The soldiers swiftly ran at him as he hurled a ball of energy towards them. The soldiers were dispatched and again, the dark one was alone. Edgy with anticipation, he ran towards the Alter before anymore distractions could come his way.
    The Dark One was a warrior all knew and feared in the world of Mezdon. He sported a mask-like hood that covered his face, a plain black robe that covered the whole of his body and a pair of ranger boots. It was rumoured that anybody who had seen his face never lived long to tell the tale.
    The Alter of Fire was atop a fiery mountain, near the Dwarven village of Riiz which was infamous for the protection it offered to the Alter. It was infamous because it was almost impossible to breach; however, the Dark One had a very similar Dark Army consisting of beasts best forgotten from the world.
    Inside the Alter was a very narrow pathway that leads out over a boiling hot sea of molten rock. At the end of the pathway were two things. The first and foremost, was the Guardian of the Alter. The Guardian was imbued with the very soul of Fire and proved a very difficult challenge for the best of warriors. The second is an object wars were fought over. It is an object that would mean raw power. The Fire stone is special specifically because of what it holds inside it, a spirit.
    The Dark One entered the Alter and ran daringly up the pathway with inhuman speed and dexterity. He unsheathed his blade as he got nearer the Guardian and cleaved him in two. The Guardian crumbled as the Dark One sheathed his blade. He slowly walked towards the centre of the platform and reached carefully towards the stone...
    A wall of fire engulfed the Dark One and as he jumped back, scolded his robe away. The Guardian slowly rose from the pile of ashes and without a second glance; the Dark One unleashed a spell that wiped the wall of fire and the Guardian off the face of the Alter. The Dark One collected the stone and vacated the Alter in an angry manner.
    ***
    Two days and two nights later, the fire Guardian arose once more. When he realized the stone had disappeared, he touched the Alter and a silhouette of crimson fire walked into the Guardian, it melted away his form and converted it into that of a man. He stared at his hands and thought for several seconds afterwards. From then on, the Guardian had a mind of his own and the stone no longer spoke for him. None the less, he knew why he was in human shape. He had to find the stone and reclaim the spirit of fire.
    The Alter gave the Guardian parting gifts, such as; the fire axe, the fire shield and complete flame armour. These items, in times of need would glow red and imbue the Guardian with unsurpassed strength. However, they could not be used by anybody but the Guardian and they were vulnerable against ice elemental spells and enchantments.

    Thus marks the beginning of the Angel of Death Saga

    Chapter One – Embracing Darkness

    Marrock was a good kid with a bad temper. If anybody hurt his friends or family he would turn almost inhuman. Decimating all in his way until he felt justice was served. People soon learned of him and challenged him, but in the end nobody touched him. Once his anger overcame him there was no stopping him. There was definitely something dark underneath the surface. Apart from that though, he was the most loyal person anybody could come across and in Farloon that was a lot.
    He had medium length light brown hair, green eyes with crimson tinted pupils, unnaturally pointy ears even from an elf’s point of view and he had a slight under average build, for his looks he was super strong, fast and intelligent. More than often you’d find him in a rugged shirt and pants that had been patched up so many times it was almost impossible to see what colour it was in the first place. He looked exactly as we thought, a commoner but yet weird somehow.
    Farloon was a rough continent. It was wrought with humans, but just about anything was legal there. The truth was nobody cared and for the unlucky ones that actually did, nothing could be done. The Veen City is where it all begins. In amongst the Sleezen Dens, the maze-like streets and the pirates, this is where the story began.
    “Marrock! Get you’re arse back here.” Elsa called.
    “No go ma’am. I’ve got problems to deal with.” He called back. He swiftly ran off down the narrow alley leading to the sewers. I’ll show him. He thought.
    “Finally turned up then eh scumbag.” An irritable boy shouted.
    “Give her amulet back Zerj...NOW!” Marrock’s teeth started to grow in length, unnoticed by the other boy who laughed and threw the amulet to the floor.
    “Come and get it.”
    They drew their blunt, useless swords and closed in towards each other. Zerj feigned but Marrock lunged for the arm, Zerj drew back just in time. He had a nick on his right arm from the blow. Before he could think about his next move Marrock was on top of him with a thrust, slice and overhead cleave. Zerj luckily jumped back and threw his blade up to meet Marrock’s. Just in time but Zerj’s sword split.
    “No more, no more!” Zerj pleaded, as he looked up and caught sight of Marrock’s eyes he gasped frantically. The crimson in his pupils had grown and had started to attack the green.
    “Please!” Marrock grabbed Zerj and pulled him off the ground and close to his face.
    “Mess with my friends again and it’ll be worse. Got it?” He chucked Zerj onto the floor. “Now SCRAM!”
    When Zerj left he apologised. It was the same with everyone, always wanting to fight him. Marrock picked the amulet up and walked slowly round to Tina’s. When he gave it to her she sluggishly thanked him and slammed the door on his face. Nobody liked Marrock, apart from Ixen but he was training for the week. He walked back to his mother’s house. He was expecting a beating when he got in.
    “Sorr-”
    “I heard what you did for Tina,” Elsa began
    “It was nothing. Next time it’ll cost.” He expressed coldly.
    “Look, don’t be put down by the way people treat you! It’s the thought that counts.”
    “Yeah well she’s not worth my thinking.” He walked back out into the street to do what he did best...disappear.
    ***
    When Marrock wanted to disappear, he had a number of places he would go. One of them was an abandoned house that was said to be haunted. He never did scare easily. That night, however, after the fight with Zerj, the coldness of Tina and the guilt he felt for the words spoken to his mother he decided to stay the night in this ‘haunted house’. Naturally, he was alone.
    Until the hours of nightfall he practiced his swordplay. The sword he worked with was stolen, like most of the things Marrock owned. Ixen’s father used to come into Veen City and teach a number of kids how to defend themselves. He was a true warrior who fought in the Unholy War, a war between Paladin’s and Vampires. It was two decades before, the Vampires allegedly came from nowhere in the dead of night and claimed many victims. They thrive on human blood because it’s apparently ‘purer’. However there was a Paladin Army created in less than a day, and as you can imagine they were being butchered. The humans may have been wiped completely from the face of Mezdon if it wasn’t for the Elves and Dwarves. They brought aid six days after it began and by some miracle they held them back, until all of a sudden they disappeared. Just like that as, swiftly as they came.
    It was a couple of hours till midnight. The streets were littered with drunks who had forgotten even their own name. Marrock went to the nearest shop, slipped into the back and hid. When no one was around he would raid the barrels, cabinets, drawers and desks for any kind of food. Anything valuable he found on the way was a bonus. When he was ready he would slip out of the nearest window and nobody would be any wiser. As he fed himself walking along the streets he looked up briefly and noticed a full moon, he loved full moons. They always seemed to make his problems drift away. As his thoughts came back into reality, he found himself near the abandoned house.
    “There he is!” He hadn’t even made it to the front door. As he turned round he grabbed for his sword.... Nothing. He’d left it in the house!
    “Get him!” Marrock looked up as a gang ran towards him, all dressed in black with their hoods up.
    “s**t.” Marrock sighed as he turned and fled. He ran down the nearest alley and took a sharp right, jumped onto the wall and scaled up. He sat on the top. Safe. He thought as he looked over the wall, all of a sudden Marrock ran the length of the houses away from his spot. They were climbing up the walls, all of them.
    Who were they? What did they want with Marrock? Questions were streaming through his mind as he valiantly attempted to escape. He came to the end of the houses; there was no where left to go. He turned round and raised his fists.
    “Come get it.” He said quietly and reassuringly. They ran at him, he counted at least five. He kicked out at the nearest one, another one punched Marrock in the side, and he turned round and punched him in the face knocking him off the side of the house.
    “AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The scream was agonizing but he had to continue, if he wanted to escape. One of the robed men grabbed Marrock by the shirt.
    “You’re ******** now mate” He sniggered. He had a rough western accent and he was big in build. In terms of build, Marrock didn’t stand a chance.
    “You think so?” Marrock said as he threw a punch into the man’s side, the big man seemed unaffected. He dropped Marrock and threw a huge fist at his face. The connection was explosive and would have knocked Marrock over the side, before one of the big man’s lackeys grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back down on the roof.
    The struggle above led to much curiosity on the ground below, and as people came out to see what the commotion was they found a body on the floor and a masked clan fighting a young man. Marrock knew that if he didn’t get away soon, the consequences would be dire.
    “What do you want?” He said as he knocked another one flying over the top. The big man ran at Marrock, feigned a punch, jumped back and threw a lightning fast kick to the stomach. Marrock was exhausted from the fighting and the last move launched him right off the edge of the house. As he slowly rose from the ground, angry and bitter from his defeat, he decided it was time to make his escape.
    ***
    Marrock found himself back in the abandoned house alone and with his heart in his throat. The sprint back filled his mind with questions best left unasked. It was approximately midnight and there was not a noise to be heard. Suddenly, he got to his feet and picked up his sword. He wouldn’t be forgetting that in a hurry. According to Ixen’s father, the blunt and almost useless sword Marrock held in his hands was an old order sword. The old Paladin order. Perfect for me then, He thought.

    He raised the sword in the half-light and threw it forward. As he began the second bout of training, the sound of a metallic crash surrounded the house. Marrock instantly stopped and raised his sword. He stood deathly still and studied every corner and crevice of the room. It appeared to be normal...until the voices started. Marrock wasn’t scared, but he was weary and he didn’t like this new turn of events.

    He ran towards the front door, but it wouldn’t budge. The rickety door was half-broken from people kicking it down. There was something unnatural happening and he was in the centre of it. There was only one thing to do in Marrock’s mind, find out the problem and deal with it. He walked through the door into the hallway; he noticed that door didn’t have a problem. There was somebody at the end of the hallway. The person had white, pasty skin. It wasn’t just the skin; he noticed as he got closer, it was the clothes as well. It was a ghost, an actual ghost. The ghost was a young girl. The girl was whispering something and beckoning Marrock closer.
    “Why not?” He remarked sarcastically as he walked forward. When he was within range of her voice, the girl spoke to him.
    “You are Marrock?” She asked. Her voice was husky and gruff, from years of not using it he figured.
    “Yeah, who are you?” He was slightly weary of what was to come next.
    “That is unimportant. What is, however, is that you are the Destroyer and we have you’re equipment.”
    “What?! The Destroyer, and what do you mean equipment?” He was shocked by what the ghost had said.
    “All will become clear,” she winked. “Go upstairs to face the beast, if you vanquish him you will be rewarded, if not...well let’s just say you won’t be seeing daylight much afterwards.” The ghost disappeared, laughing hysterically.

    “Yeah, funny gal...” Without a moment’s hesitation, Marrock ran up the stairs where a single door stood, closed with a sense of pending doom. Before the doorway, lay a sword nailing a note to the floor. It read:

    “Here is a silver long sword, a present from you’re father in Tyrnity.
    Kill the beast for the betrayal against our kind and you will become powerful.”

    Father, Tyrnity, our kind? Who the letter was from and what did it mean?
    “No worries then.” He grabbed the hilt and swung the sword from the ground with renewed vigour. It felt dark, eerie and evil, but it was his best bet if he wanted to survive whatever was coming.

    Marrock kicked the door open and a gush of wind blew his hair off his face. Inside the giant room a dog-like beast eight foot high from the ground stood looming above the young warrior. The head of the black dog had four blood red eyes, an enormous mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth, it’s body was ripped with muscles and it had three tails. The beast seemed to talk directly into Marrock’s mind.

    You cannot kill me, Destroyer for I am Cerberus.

    “Yeah, you’re damned ugly to.” Without anymore words Marrock ran at the Cerberus with a jumping sword uppercut. The dog swiped at Marrock knocking him back against the wall. Marrock jumped back onto his feet and ran towards Cerberus’ paws slicing left, right and left. The dog roared with pain and span round hitting Marrock again.
    “So far not so good.” Marrock shouted up at the fiend. Again, Marrock ran towards him and once again he was stopped. He continued the assault against the dog until he was bloodied and bruised. Cerberus looked untouched. Each time Marrock attacked and was thwarted by Cerberus, he became more agitated, more annoyed until finally he burst.

    Black light exploded where Marrock was standing a split second before. When Marrock reappeared he was different – in every way. Black hair ran down to his back, the crimson tint in his pupils engulfed the whole of his eyes, his face was paler like a ghost, and his mouth was in a constant hiss of a laugh.
    “You, dog. Now you’re doomed.” His voice was deeper, darker. Like someone was speaking through him.

    Within a split second Marrock was underneath Cerberus, slowly slicing his belly open whilst laughing uncontrollably. Cerberus was roaring unsuccessfully for mercy. When Marrock reached the end he jumped and back flipped over, almost floating, and did a downwards stab towards the beasts head. The silver blade was buried in the middle of the dog’s four eyes.

    ***

    When Marrock awoke it was early morning. He was in the same room as before but Cerberus was not there but he knew it wasn’t a dream. Lying in the middle of the floor was a unique set of armour complete with a short sword, a bow and arrows. The only thing on Marrock’s mind however was how exhilaratingly good it felt to kill and he was scared by it.

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