Snippet #1068684

The Tournament Site

Shien sat back with a sigh. He really didn't want to be here, although he did want that bed. He sat there expressionless staring towards the crowds of idiots enjoying the spectacle of a tournament. At least until he heard a voice enter his head. This wasn't his first chat with the sorceress though that didn't mean he liked it. He at least knew that all he had to do was think however for her to hear him. "Challenged you ask? Hardly, however do not mistake that with a complaint. Worth is something fragile and overall meaningless. Something is only worth as much as another will pay for it. To say he isn't worthy of something is just plain ignorant. I do not wish to fight anyone near my equal. Quite honestly it is just too much work, and for what? To prove you can fight? Those who can fight are looked upon as strong, yet those who can fight and choose not to, are truly enlightened. Wouldn't you agree?"

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Sean's Estate

Will sighed as Corissa started to seem to be preoccupied with something. It was pretty obvious to him that she was developing feelings for Taran. He didn't believe in "Love" so there was only one feeling he could see. She must have been really developing these feelings for him while he was gone. "Will you settle down woman? I mean he's supposed to be your brother for crying out loud. Stop trying to get in his pants. Shit you really are a little whore just like when I found you." Will layed back on her bed and out his arms behind his head. "I had met with Halikair again earlier. I am too exhausted to chance after the princess more at this point. Besides, she'll come for Taran eventually. All I need to do is wait now."

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Sometime in the Past

Being a man with the inability to give birth to heirs would seem like a curse to some, but to this man who crept into Fell's Village on such a dark and ominous night, it was a hell that he believed he would never escape. You see, his wife had died a day after giving birth to a beautiful baby... girl. The new father couldn't say he hated his daughter, but he would never love her the same way he would love a son. He wanted to be able to bring up a powerful warrior, one who could spread his name and bloodline through the world. Being able to pass on his strength, his knowledge, his power, and his wealth to an heir that deserved it was something the man had prayed for. None of the Gods and Goddesses would give him an answer for his desire. None except the God of Death.

The ambitious father had finally approached a shack, but who was he targeting? What was he planning to do? This was his sister's home, she had been the only one in his family that was still alive, but only through her abandonment of the family. She had refused her family name, and for that, This man had no remorse for her. He used an enchantment to easily get passed the lock. He then pulled out a large glass vial, but didn't seem to plan on using it at that moment. He just held it as he walked through the home. The man had made his way over to the bed of his sleeping sister and her husband. A grin should on the man's face, knowing that he was so much closer to achieving his goal. He stood over his sister's resting body, before opening the vial and putting it to his mouth. He drank all of its contents, and nearly choked on it. The red liquid that dripped from his lips was the blood of thirteen virgins.

Without wasting time , the man closed his eyes and clasped his hands together. He began whispering an enchantment while trying to connect to the Death God at the same time. This something rarely done, but was mostly seen when amplifying a spell. The pitch black room soon became a tint of red, and soon the man wasn't the only one standing over the sleeping woman. A figure wearing a black cloak and holding a scythe in his cold hands was right beside the man who whispered the enchantment. The figure didn't say a word, it just floated over the husband sleeping in the bed. Without any pause in his movement, the figure raised its weapon and stabbed it down upon the man's heart. The husband didn't even budge in his sleep, nor in his death. The figure made his way over to the man who had stopped whispering, and was now looking straight at him. He smiled at his succession, but awaited the figures confirmation. The figure then raised the scythe, but this time he turned toward the woman. The man who had summoned the god nearly yelled in protest, but only the scythe's blunt hilt touched his sleeping sister.

"It is done..." The figure finally spoke in a deep and almost omnipresent voice. The man only smiled with joy, knowing that his sister would conceive the heir to his family name. A warrior that would be powerful under his teachings. A warrior that would dawn the name... Devin Pendus.