Finally I return to RPGC writing, please read and review.
[b]The Fourteenth Star[/b]
[b]Chapter 1: Darcassone[/b]
Elrik awoke to the sounds of screaming…they had come.
For fourteen years the village of Darcassone had prepared themselves for this night. It had begun. On the outskirts of the village there was an old hermit, a wise yet heavily antisocial being. He had predicted a series of events… with uncanny accuracy. It was he that had said that they would come, and the villagers where wise to heed his council, for he was incredibly learned in the mystical arts. Foul abominations they where as Alpharos the Prophet had said. They walked on their hind legs yet their feet where cloven hooves, their bodies inhumanly muscular, shaggy long hair they also had, and two twisted horns burst from their beast-like skull. The site of these malformed daemons sent many of the villagers into fits of panic and horror, yet as Alpharos had bid them, they where prepared. Immediately as soon as the attack had begun Elrik and his elite Raven Guard had sprung into action; long swords drawn, plate armour shining they crashed upon the Beast-Horde, shattering it to bits.
However it was not over. A primal howl burst forth from the cavernous lungs of the Beastlord, and as soon as it had left his blood stained mouth a thousand more of the foul spawn answered his call with blood-cries of their own; and for each voice that howled a Darcassoni fell. But the advantage Elrik possessed was too great, for he and his guard had had fourteen years to train and they where wise in the art of war, as soon as the Blood-Howl began they fled, a distinct cry of ‘Run to the hills!’ was heard amid the bloody maelstrom of evil noise. As soon as high ground was reached the Raven Guard reformed into a battle line. They where ready to give their life for the village if it was required of them. As the Beast-Horde charged forth their bloody mouths gleaming with gore the Raven were unmoved they calmly raised their swords.
“FOR DARCASSONE!” Screamed Elrik, his blood boiling with primal fury at the audacity of their situation, his sword Aquitane would yet taste more blood this night.
As the horde approached the Guard stood with implacable stoicism, not one of them flinched, not one of them broke the line. They had been taught that fear was an illusion of the mind, and that if one was strong enough belief could conquer any foe, to the point which that the Raven Guard fought with an almost fanatical zeal. As the Beastmen approached the stalwart line their pace began to quicken, it was as if some unnatural force was at their backs. The Raven Guard raised their swords, ready for a massacre. However instead of two thousand berserk beast warriors exploding into them a bolt of white lightning crashed into the snarling abominations slaying hundreds of their number: Alpharos had come, and with him he had brought powerful magic.