And he watched as his love was murdered before his eyes, suffering a tortuous death. Even many of his enemies thought that such an end was too appaling to be inflicted on a woman. But the cruelest of men served as the High Kings counselors and even a few among them were in fact demons leading this ruler of men in dark paths.
Now, he, our hero laid in wastes beyond tears, suffering such pain that he longed for death without an sliver of hope. Too, finally this great hero and warrior of Men cried out in anguish and began to weep and wail unceasingly, without thought, driven by madness. He was bereft of purpose and love. Looking upon him some of the High Kings counselors spoke, “Lord, see now this mighty warrior is nothing more than a weak child. A hoppling cripple, with no strength in his bones or aid. Not, contend with him before the people. Draw weapons for combat and slay him before the people for he longs for death. These words were pleasing to the King. His heart lusted for glory and power and he thought the death of this man at his hands would cast great fear into the hearts of his enemies.
So he heeded the instruction of his councelors and gave orders to release the hero from his chakles and grant him an axe. For an axe was the weapon he was renound for using in war. The king ordered that his lightest armour be brought to him and his finest sword. He asked for no shield or helmet. His pride soared beyond his greatness. So the King stood now in the dirt arena next to the warriors love, her body laid out, and he spoke,”
Angler, look at me. I do not fear you, I am greater than you and have found favor with the gods. I am above you in all ways. Power, wealth and glory are mine. You are meak and lowly, not even the dirt of this earth would lay claim to your broken vessel.”
Angler looked up for the first and stared in to the eyes of the king. Rising to his feet he never broke his glare. Now the King found it more and more difficult to keep his eyes met with Anglers till finally he looked away when he thought he saw a red flash from the heroes eyes. At once from that moment Anglers set at a sprint toward the king and though the King was skilled in combat he was no match for Anglers speed or war hardened might. Angler drew himself behind the king and as the king turned to parlay with his sword in defense Anglers axe, though dull came up with such strength that the kings sword broke free from his hand and both the axe and the sword wounded the king. Seeing the sword free from the king, who was on the ground regaining his senses from the massive blow, Angler discarded his axe and took to the ground in hand to hand combat with the King. Now even greater in this was the king outmatched in skill and strength. So it was that the king met his end most gruesomely when Angler encircled the king’s throat with his arms and threw his leg over the Kings shoulders and with all his might he pulled and tore from the body of the King his very head. Now all those people watching, warriors of the king, counselors common folk, all alike laid a gasp at what they had just witnessed. Angler laid in a pool of blood and then after some time he rose. Such a dreaded beast did he appear to all. Covered in a mix of earth and blood, bruised and torn in flesh from the tortures he suffered from the king’s councilors, the demons, the night before. He walked toward the gate and then as he approached the guard of the king, one in turn after another bowed their knee and head, till all who witnessed these deeds did the same. Even those demons who counseled the King now vanished, never, in those forms, to be seen by men again.
This was how Angler became the reigning hi general of the Great Army.
Anew Story
Told in rapid form.
The evil lord drew up his powers and looked out upon his enemy. This enemy was once a creature of great stregnght and nobility but now had becime a great and might demon. He poseesed no body but exsisted in eight heads that encorlicel the earth. The dark lord took to the skeis and turned his power against the enemy. He said aloud, I know you accuser, derstoryer of hope and truth.
And with those words he struck down the heads. All great and huge, one by one they
came falling form the sky.
Another Anew Story:
He, her father, was born of fire. Broken, naked and forged on the irons of hate and pain. She, his daughter was born of the rain. Through long sorrow and redemption was she crafted. As her father was a son of war, so she was a daughter of Peace. She was his healing; from her life he found his end and rest. And too in his end with her at his side he departed in peace, unbound by the ties that restrain eternal souls to a mortal world.