Young Writers Society

Part 2

Kronus awoke to find Ben wide awake and keeping watch. 

The sun was just starting to come up, and cast a pink orange and yellow light on the clouds and clear blue sky. 

Ben was looking up at the sky. “Isn’t the sunrise beautiful?” asked Ben with a smile. “In all my 50 years, I have never seen a more beautiful sight than this.”

The two men gazed up into the sky for several more minutes before packing up their sleeping bags and gear, eating a breakfast of dried fruit, salted meat, and water, and it wasn’t long before they were on their way again. Without the path to lead them, the two had a tougher time knowing which way to go. But Ben knew his way around the mountains, and had a rough idea about where the Healer’s shack would be. And so, onward they walked. 

“I hope that’s the last we’ll see of those bandits. Another run in with them and we might not make it to the Healer’s shack.” Ben said with a worried look on his face.

“Well if we do, I’ll remember to get them back for that ambush. Those bastards.” Replied Kronus with a serious look on his face.

Ben laughed, “Ah, the bravery of young warriors, your just asking for problems to fight a dozen men like that with only one ally to back you up. You’d best just leave them alone.” 

“Ha! You old warriors and your caution.” Chided Kronus while trying to hold back a smile.

And onward the two men went, walking through forests, swimming through rivers, and climbing over cliffs. It wasn’t long before they would find trouble yet again though. Walking through a particularly dark and damp forest, they found the remains of what looked like a battle field. 

Long forgotten, the battle had taken place many hundreds of years ago, and the rusty remains of cannons, weapons, armor and human skeletons littered the forest. The two warriors paid their respects to the dead, and carried on. But there was a story behind the long forgotten battlefield. And it needs to be told.

Hundreds of years ago, in the time of Morthal's invasion of Sage, the country that Kronus lived and died in was at war. Private Hewitt was just a 16 year old boy from Ivarstead, and all he knew his whole life was farming. 

And he never wanted to enlist in the army. But he had no choice. He had to fight for his freedom, and his country. This wasn’t the first time Morthal had tried to invade his land, and it wouldn’t be the last. So he hugged and kissed his crying mother, and shook his fathers hand as he gave Hewitt a new and shiny Death Bringer. 

“I promise to come back. We will win this war Ma” Said Hewitt, trying to hide his tears.

“You better come back” Said his mother with a pleading yet hard look at both Hewitt and his father. 

The two men made their way to the encampment, where they saw a muscular older man waiting for them.

“Corporal James, Private Hewitt, your with me. I will be your superior officer. My name is Commander Jerek. I will lead all the soldiers from Ivarstead into battle. It wasn’t that long ago that I ran a guild of the world’s best mercenaries called Legendary. But I guess old age got the better of me.” Jerek said with a grin.“I hate Morthal just as much as you do, and I will not let them invade another peaceful country. I suppose the real reason I’m here is to make some money while I fight though, I'm being paid to lend and hand and maybe I'll shake some of the rust from these old bones. So, you two better get ready, I have some chain mail armor for you both. 

“Thank you sir.” Said Hewitt’s father, Corporal James, "suit up Hewitt."

"Yes father." Said Hewitt with a scared but determined look on his face.

Father and son were joined by a little more than 20 other men, all fresh recruits from Ivarstead. As they made the way to the battlefield, Hewitt caught a glimpse at the enemy. They all wore magnesium armor, and had Hatred Blades, special blades forged from only the best steel and the blood of the living. Hewitt didn’t like the odds. Corporal James rushed into battle and with a battle cry, and brought his mighty barbarian axe of fire down on an enemy soldier. The soldier blocked the axe with his shield with no problem at all, and decapitated Corporal James. 

Hewitt cried out in agony. 

“DAD!!!!”

Commander Jerek looked back in sympathy, but then said “Keep your eyes on the battlefield you COWARD, or you’ll be next.”

Rage and lose suddenly came over him, like a tsunami inside him, more than he had ever felt before until he just snapped. A strange power came over Hewitt, and the air around him turned red. 

“You BASTARDS!!” Yelled Hewitt,

crying as he slashed through soldier after soldier as he cried. His vision turned red with rage, as he rammed through the enemy line like a cannon shot. It started with the nearest soldier, who was still laughing at the boy for showing tears on the battle field. Hewitt raised his sword and with a fast slash he easily beheaded the man. Two more soldiers ran at him, one slashed at him with a hatred blade, but Hewitt didn't feel a thing and quickly stabbed the man through the chest. As he withdrew his Death Bringer from the corpse of dead soldier of Morthal, 

the other soldier yelled, "I'M TAKING YOUR HEAD!"

The soldier would have beheaded Hewitt if he didn't catch the sword with his free hand. The blade easily sliced through the flesh of his hand, but would not go through the bone. 

There was fear in the soldiers eyes as he said, "No, pl-please just let me go. Just let me go."

Hewitt wasted no time before slicing the man's sword arm clean off. Blood was everywhere, it poured from Hewitt, and it poured from the men he had killed. Around him both Morthal's soldiers and his neighbors from Ivarstead fell dead right in left. Hewitt lost himself in the rage of, his sight went pure blood red, and he lost him hearing, but still he pressed on. He killed at least ten men before he started to feel wary. 

He was seeing stars,broken and battered, bleeding out, but something kept him going. That emotion was pure loss and vengeance. Finally he fell to his knees. As his vision started to fade to crimson, and then black, he whispered something before he died of blood lose. “I’m sorry mother.” He said. Many people died in the skirmish, but in the end they were successful in pushing back the forces of Morthal. 

Years later, I child found the the site of the battle, and saw something shiny sticking out of the ground. The child pulled it out to find it was a ornate and shiny sword. It was Death Bringer. Deciding to keep it, the child brought it home with him. That child was Ben’s great grandfather.

The path up the mountain was rough, but Ben and Kronus were healthy men, and were making good progress. Energized by the prospect of saving their loved one Melina, they would push onward for hours. Meanwhile, Gaffer and the bandits weren’t far behind.

“How could you let them GET AWAY” Yelled Gaffer, as he kicked one of his injured henchmen in the stomach. “It was your job to get capture those two warriors, rob them blind, and then we could sell them as slaves to the highest bidder.”

Gaffer’s bandits stared in fear at their leader, the man was crazy. The last time they had failed their boss he had the ones responsible whipped until their backs bled. Hell, they still felt the pain from the scars. Gaffer was almost hungry at the prospects of taking down those two pesky warriors that had given him so much trouble. 

His men were in position, all 9 of them. The bastards had killed 1 of his best, and injured two. Now he was back for revenge. He could almost taste victory. And it was almost time for lunch. Gaffer drew his sniper rifle, and took aim the man that had failed him. This time he would make his first shot count.

Kronus and Ben continued on their way, coming ever so closer to the Healer’s hut. It had been an adventure to get there, but it seemed that they would soon be one step closer to healing Melina.Ben laughed and smiled, talking about small talk, the village, and politics. But Kronus was unhappy. Suddenly the conversation took a turn for the worse. 

“I’m sick of this small talk,” exclaimed Kronus. “So, do you really think that some “Healer” who lives in a shack out in the middle of nowhere can save my wife? What if your wrong. Then what? HOW DO WE KNOW YOUR LITTLE MAGICAL HEALER IS GOING TO SAVE MY WIFE!”

The two continued on in silence, the happy mood of their little adventure shattered by the cold truth that someone’s life was at stake. By the fact that they could be risking their lives for the small chance that some hermit in the forest living in a shack could do anything to save her. By the fact that there might not even be a “Healer” at all. By the fact that they could already be too late. 

After some time, Ben replied. “We don’t.” This time there was no smile on his face. “But we have to try.”

Ben drew Death Bringer. “I hear the sound of running feet from behind us. Ready your weapon.”

“Is it the bandits?” Asked Kronus.

“Seems like it. They must have followed us.” Replied Ben.

“How many?” Asked Kronus.

“I would say there are at least 7 or 8 of them. Get behind me! NOW!” Yelled Ben.

Kronus ran behind Ben just as a sniper bullet wizzed through the air, missing Kronus. “This is revenge for what you did to us the last time we met you. You embarrassed us, and you KILLED MY MEN. Surrender or DIE!” Yelled Gaffer from somewhere off in the distance.

“NEVER!” Kronus yelled back.

Two more shots followed, but Ben blocked them in quick succession with Death Bringer. Kronus heard the sound of a almost a dozen men running through the forest, off the beaten path. He could not see them, but he knew they were coming closer. Kronus loaded his ak47, and looked down at his belt to see that he had only 7 grenades left. Better make them count, thought Kronus. The men were coming closer, just as 2 more sniper bullets flew by Kronus. 

One would have found its mark in his skull, if it wasn’t for Ben blocking the shot with Death Bringer. Kronus saw movement through the trees, several men running toward him and Ben. Quickly Kronus readied his ak47, and sprayed bullets into the foliage. 

“AAAUURRGHGGHG” yelled a man from within the trees as he fell to the ground with a thunck, presumably dead or injured. Kronus advanced further into the forest, leaving Ben’s side.

Meanwhile, Ben moved forward to face a group of five men, all armed with melee weapons, swords, daggers, and maces, except for one who held a large pistol along with a dagger. “You have a chance to end this now old man,” chided the man with the pistol, “If you give up now, you might live another day,”

“I would never surrender to you welps,” Answered Ben.

The bandits laughed at this, and readied their weapons. Ben ran at the man with the pistol, intent on getting rid of the ranged fighter before he could get rid of Ben. The man with the pistol blocked with his dagger, just as Ben threw a hidden dagger straight at a man with a mace, hitting him right between the eyes. The man fell to the ground, dead. One down, 4 to go. The man with the pistol tried to aim it at Ben, but Ben smacked the gun from his hands before the man could pull the trigger. So the man spat in Ben’s eyes instead. 

While whipping the spit out of his eyes, a man with a rusted sword rushed Ben, and Ben blocked clumsily with one hand while he whipped the spit from his eyes with the other. While he did, he pushed the man who had used the pistol into the other two before they could advance on Ben. The pistol lay on the ground, just waiting to be picked up. 

Then Ben decapitated the man with the rusty sword with the clean strike of a man who knew how to use a sword. After all, this wasn’t the first time Ben had cut off a mans head. A man holding a short sword in one hand and a dagger in the other ran at Ben. 

It was simple for Ben to side step the bandit, as while this man may know how to rob starving unarmed refugees, but Ben was a master swordsman in his day. The bandit was then stabbed in through his back and out through his stomach. Ben pulled his sword out of the dead body of the bandit, Death Bringer slick with the blood of the bandits. 

While the remaining bandit fled for the forest, in fear of the superior warrior that defeated his comrades, the last bandit crawled on the floor over to where the pistol lay. Ben stabbed the grabbing hand of the bandit with Death Bringer before he could reach the pistol, and then threw a hidden dagger at the running bandit before he could run out of harms way. Ben then finished the bandit on the ground with a dagger to the top of the spine. “Amateurs,” muttered Ben.

Kronus had made his way into a deeper part of the forest, when suddenly from within the foliage came a shot from a pistol. Kronus skillfully dodged the shot, before throwing one of his precious grenades back where the shot had come from. A satisfying boom sounded, leaving one more man face down on the ground. A shot coming from the other side of the forest hit Kronus in the chest. All his attention had been on the 3 men he had previously shoot at running through the foliage, and he was surprised to feel the bullet tear through his body like a stone through water. Kronus cried out in agony before falling to the ground. 

“KRONUS!” Yelled Ben as he tried to locate his younger friend. There were too many, Kronus thought.

Fuck this shit, thought Kronus, full of anger. He would not lose now, not when they were so close to finding the Healer. What was the deal with these bandits anyway? These bastards probably make a living off the backs of others, off the backs of people like the hard working farmers of Ivarstead. They stole from people who had nothing. And that pissed Kronus off. Suddenly a red aura surrounded Kronus, making him feel stronger than ever before. 

The pain in his chest from the bullet did not fully go away, but drove him into such a rage that he felt like he could do anything. He pushed himself up off the ground, and made his way running full speed, no faster than full speed, driven by the red rage that surrounded him, through the forest at the man that had shot at him. The man shot 6 more shots at Kronus, but Kronus ducked and dodged out of the way, slithering out of the way like a snake just waiting to strike. 

Just like Private Hewitt from the ancient battle long ago, Kronus had the special power about him. The power of the Rage. Finally, Kronus striked, shooting at the shins of the bandit and bringing him to his knees. 

“That’s right, KNEEL, beg for forgiveness!” Yelled Kronus.

The bandit stared up in fear, seeing before him a demon. The gunner that had shot his legs from underneath him wasn’t even human. It was some evil demon, Satan himself coming to drag him down to hell. He had never been religious, but the monster that stood before him could only have been a demon in his eyes. He thought back to everything he had done wrong, all the people who’s lives he had ruined. All the innocents he had killed. And now finally he was going to pay for his crimes, in hell for eternity. 

“Please, forgive me, I will change, I PROMISE, so please, don’t kill me don’t take me down there, PLEASE.” 

Kronus looked at the man with disgust, seeing nothing more in the man than worthless trash. He took a grenade and shoved it in the pleading man’s mouth. And then walked away. 

“STOP” yelled a familiar voice from behind Kronus.

Kronus turned around to see Ben take the grenade and throw it away before it exploded, with a great BAAM. 

“What are you doing?” Asked Ben, with worry, wait, no, was that fear in his eyes?

The red angry aura from around Kronus disappeared, as if nothing had happened. And with it, came reason. Kronus saw before him a man that had pleaded for his life, that was unarmed, and he had tortured him, and almost killed him in one of the most brutal ways possible. The way Ben had looked at him, like he was some kind of monster. And maybe he was a monster. Seeing the bandit man crying in agony that HE had put him in. 

That he had purposefully done to torture him. He was worse than the bandits. It felt horrible to realize what he had done. Kronus looked the crying would be bandit in the eyes, and said “I’m sorry.” “Ben quickly injected pain medicine into the bandit’s shins that Kronus and Ben had been using to keep themselves going, and did some quick first aid on the man before standing and sheathing his blade. “We have to go. Now.” Said Ben with a glare that said, “We will talk about this later.”

Gaffer looked at the two through the scope of his sniper rifle as he saw the two warriors defeat his men, and then run deeper into the forest. So deep that even with the scope he could no longer see them. But he had seen everything. He was surprised, no, frightened at the strange aura that had surrounded the younger warrior, the one with the gun, and the way it had made him into a fighting machine for all of 30 seconds. 

But he isn’t the only one with special abilities, Gaffer thought with a smile. Gaffer said to his remaining 2 henchmen, 

“We will have our revenge. Go tell the boss that some bastards killed all my men. Ask him to enlist some more men, maybe some mercenaries, maybe some berserkers. All we need to do is wait for the full moon, and we’ll hit them where it hurts the most. Ivarstead.” The two men smiled a bloodthirsty smile, and shared a cruel evil laugh.

The two warriors had been running for most of the day, and had surely lost the remaining forces of the bandits. Ben was silent as a grave, deep in thought, and with a blank face. Kronus dared not say a thing. He knew what he had done. And he knew how cruel his actions towards the pleading bandit were. How evil. And he did not understand the strange red aura that had come over him. Maybe Ben knew what it was? Thought Kronus to himself, also deep in thought. The day light faded, and still Ben refused to talk. 

Kronus had tried everything. He had tried asking about the red aura, if Ben knew anything, he even tried small talk. 

But all Ben would do is grunt. Or say, “we’ll talk when we rest”, or “in good time” Finally, the two warriors decided to rest for the night at the top of a great cliff.

They were so high up that they couldn’t see the ground below the cliff, but that could have partially been from the fog that seemed to mask the forest below. 

“Ok,” said Ben, with a serious look on his face, “This seems the best time to say it. Your probably wondering what happened back there with the bandits. Right?” Kronus looked hard into Ben’s eyes. “There are many unique powers that people in this world are either born with or can learn. This could include anything from controlling the elements, to raising the dead, to turning into beasts in battle. These abilities can be learned, or in other cases people are born with. Many of the greatest war heroes rely on these special abilities in battle," 

Ben explained, "The ability you possess is special, even among these other special abilities. That red aura that surrounded you, there is no doubt about it. That is rage. Rage is an ability that channels your inner anger and hatred, and uses it to power up your body, making you faster, stronger, and even affecting your emotions. Rage is dangerous. Even a good man that would never hurt anyone can easily become a cold blooded killer through rage, as it takes your anger and hatred and throws you into a frenzy, making you filled with the anger to the point where you no longer can control it, and instead your anger controls you. There are two types of rage that I know of, although there are several others. The first is called Berserker Rage, which lets you change into a beast such as a bear, griffin, or wolf at will."

"And then there is Red Rage, the type of rage that you possess." Ben's face turned stone cold serious, "However, this rage turns anger, hatred, and other bad emotions into pure super human strength, speed, and battle prowess, while given the user a red glow or aura around them. Hence the name Red Rage. This rage let’s you keep your human form while still obtaining the same strength, speed, and battle prowess as Berserker Rage. If you manage to learn how to control your new ability, you could become a legendary warrior.” Ben explained with an excited smile. “You could lead armies with this power. Ben said, deep in thought, with that same knowing smile. And Ben was right. Someday Kronus would lead armies.

Suddenly Kronus woke up. He was back at the Stone Maiden tavern. He must have fallen asleep. In front of him were several empty bottles of beer, and one half full room temperature bottle of whisky. He was back at the Stone Maiden tavern. He looked at the empty chair beside him and saw it was indeed empy, except for Death Bringer lying on it, sharp as ever. Melina was still dead. It was funny that after witnessing so many deaths, this one death stuck in his mind more than any other. Kronus felt a tear roll down his unkempt face and down into his mess of a beard, but still he would not cry. He would not give in to the pain. Not yet. People were busy talking, drinking, the tavern was busy today. He looked in front of him, into the bottle whisky, and poured himself another glass. His hand was shaking.

“Feel your anger, channel it!” Said Ben, who seemed impatient. Kronus was standing near their little camp, trying to tense up his muscles and think of bandits killing Melina, or his blackhood parents sacrificing Chris to the Primal, but he just couldn’t get angry. It wasn’t his fault his god damn special ability didn’t work. He couldn’t get angry enough for it to work. So far the best he could manage was half a second of the Red Rage every few minutes. 

The sun had just started setting, pink and yellow light shining through bone white clouds against a blue sky and the green forest below. The cliff they had set up camp next to was starting to look like an endless black cliff without the sun to brighten it up. Pretty soon Kronus was going to get angry just waiting for the damn rage thing to work.

“Come on, you’ve almost got it this time Kronus,” said Ben with his arms crossed and an intense look on his face. 

It had already been 30 minutes, and Kronus was getting impatient.

“Screw this,” Said Kronus. “Maybe I can’t control this Red Rage “ability” yet. Besides, what’s the point of just standing around here and trying to do something that I’m not able to summon at will? This is time we could use to find The Healer and help Melina, or get some sleep.” Kronus said with an annoyed look on his face. 

“You’ve got a point, you certainly aren’t making any progress.” Ben teased Kronus.

“Shut up old man,” Kronus replied with a lopsided grin. They set up a camp fire, and sat next to the crackling fire for warmth in the cold night air. The men laughed together and talked about things like how greedy the new King of Morthal was, and the rumor that he killed his parents to inherit the throne. Then they talked about how the price of horses was just too high. Soon Kronus was asleep, and Ben sat at watch. The stars were shining bright in a cloud free sky. 

The crescent moon a bright yellowish white glow in the night. Ben smiled to himself, sat down and looked up at the sky. The crackling sound of sparks from the fire was soothing. Everything was peaceful. It seemed just as if nothing could go wrong in this beautiful world. “Goodnight Kronus.” Whispered Ben to the sleeping gunner lying down beside him. Nothing could go wrong.

Melina looked up at the monster that glared down at her. It’s massive head was bigger than even The City of her Soul. As it’s head hung over the lone floating rock in her soul that was City that she took shelter, it cast a great shadow upon the city. Melina couldn’t even make out it’s face, all she could see was six red eyes glowing far away in the distance. It spoke in it’s strange usually gibberish, but Melina couldn’t understand a word. Just like it had in the cave where her life was ruined, and in her nightmares. The voice sounded like it was mocking her. 

“You gonna fight me or what?!!” Yelled Melina into the darkness. 

The Primal must have heard the fear in her voice, heard the fact that Melina knew in her heart that her luck had run out. That this was the end for Melina. You could say that she felt it in her very bones. The Primal sneered as it laughed at Melina’s pitiful excuse for a battle cry, before opening its mouth and devouring Melina, the City on the floating rock, and her very soul. The fire in Melina’s spirit went out. It was over. Nothing was left. Only the Primal. And eternal darkness.

It was around midnight, and everything was silent. Far too quiet. Almost eerie. Ben could hear sounds in the distance, and could smell rotting corpses. Ghouls, thought Ben as he pulled out a weapon he hadn’t used in a long time. Beast Bane. The Death Bringer sword may have been in his family for generations, but when it came time to pass on the torch to the next in line, Melina, Ben had to turn to an even older friend. 

That was the silver short sword Beast Bane, that he had used ever since he was a teenager. As he applied some special oil from his satchel that he knew was effective against undead to the silver blade. He said to himself, “I’m sorry I have to use you again on such short notice old friend, let’s hope we haven’t gotten sloppy. But he realized he had forgotten to do one last thing. “Shit, I have to wake Kronus!”

Kronus was enjoy a good night’s sleep, cozy beside the fire, 

“Kronus, KRONUS! DAMMIT WAKE UP” Yelled a voice from far away place. Suddenly someone shook Kronus’s body roughly, jolting him awake. 

Kronus awoke to find Ben standing over him, with the sound of inhuman moans and the patter of running feet off in the distance. 

“Kronus, quickly, arm yourself! And look for some silver bullets in my satchel, silver is the only metal that is effective against these monsters!” Yelled Ben frantically.

Without asking the question of what could possibly only be hurt with silver, Kronus scrambled out of his sleeping bag, looking desperately for his battered ak47. Finally he found it sitting right where he left it. Unloading the lead bullets that were inside it, he reloaded it with one the 2 dull silver clips that he found in Ben’s satchel after some searching. 

Ben had just finished applying some oil to Death Bringer, dual wielding both the silver short sword Beast Bane in one hand and the much longer long sword Death Bringer in the other. “Let’s rock,” Muttered Ben to himself with a devilish smile on his face.

Darkness. And nothingness. That was all that remained of Melina’s soul. She was even beginning to forget who she was. Melina, right? I’m Melina. The city was nothing more than rumble, hidden in a cloud so dark that nothing could be seen. All she could feel was intense pain. In the distance she heard the dark inhuman laughter of the Primal. Why didn’t it just kill her? Why didn’t it finish what it had started? No, it’s just toying with me. It wants to enjoy my suffering before it ends me forever. 

And in dark, Melina could see images. She saw the deaths of everyone she held dear. First her mother Emily, the townsfolk of Ivarstead, then her father Ben and Kronus. Many brave warriors stood in the way, but they would simply be trampled into the dirt and left to rot. There was nothing that could be done to stop the evil, the pandemonium, The Darkness spreading like a pox across all of Helmettria. And at the heart of the madness was Melina. Or at least what was left of her. With the monster in control of her body, Melina was near invincible. 

Swords broke when they struck her. Bullets had no effect. Magic only made her stronger. She was the warrior that she wished to but could never be. With a finger she could set flame to an entire village. And with her hand the fall of a country. Melina watched in horror as everything around her was turned to ash, and then crumbled away to nothingness. And as the Primal laughed inhumanly, the warrior girl began to cry.

Ben and Kronus waited, looking deep into the dark night that surrounded the campfire. They could hear the sound of several dozen footsteps coming closer and closer. The moans in the distance turning to terrifying screams and angry growls. Ben had seen the signs. These were definitely ghouls. It must have been the abandoned battlefield, thought Ben. There were two conditions that needed to be met in order for a ghoul to be born from the dead. 

First, the body must not have a proper burial. It must be left to rot above ground. Second, in life the body must have killed in cold blood. Many of the dead in that graveyard of abandoned battlefield never even got a proper burial, and during the skirmish between the group of professional soldiers for Morthal and the weaker less trained militia from Ivarstead there were many that had killed a man from the others ranks. 

No one would come back for the bodies here, it was the border between the outskirts of Morthal and the farm land filled country that Ben and Kronus lived in, Sage. It was too dangerous in the minds of both sides to come back this place, bandits ran this border, and there were plenty of other dangers here as well. How did Ben know this you ask? Well I have your answer, but it’s a long story. Ben’s origin story. I’ll tell you, but in small portions.

Ben’s childhood in Ivarstead was not unlike that of the other boys of Ivarstead, he spent most of his days exploring the mountains around Ivarstead. His father and mother ran a tavern, and he often worked for them by asking people what they would like to eat or drink, or helping brew ale and other spirits. Occasionally he would even travel with his father to nearby cities to buy more supplies to stalk up the tavern with for its guests, like rare spices for meals, and new flavors for drinks.

All was well until one day a large group of bandits ransacked the town, pillaging the town for anything valuable. Young Ben was working as the waiter for the day, when a group of over a dozen men walked in. They were big, wore battered and rusty armor and looked frightening to Ben, who was only 11 at the time, although quite mature for his age. “Umm, can I take your order?” Ben asked, no idea that he was dealing with dangerous bandits. The bandits laughed out loud. It was a gruff laugh, filled with venom. 

Finally, the leader of the bandits walked forward and said, “We fine gentlemen have come here to today to get blind drunk on only your finest liquor. Also, bring us some sexy girls, and some good meat to eat.” Ben looked in awe and fear at the men before him, now not so sure if these were traveling mercenaries. The leader sneered at Ben, and another of the bandits spat a thick wad of saliva on the floor. Another locked the tavern door behind them. 

“Well hurry up you little shit.” Said the bandit leader. 

“O-ok,” Stammered Ben, in fear of the men. 

Those are not mercenaries, those are bandits, thought Ben. I have to tell Mom and Dad! He walked into the back of the tavern, but realized that his parents weren’t there. They had gone out to fight off the dozens of bandits that had invaded the town. Before long the bandits had taken over the Tavern, they sat by the tables, slowly draining the Tavern of all it’s best alcohol and eating the best food. 

Ben could do nothing but bring them plates and bottles of the very best quality. He watched as everything his family had worked so hard to put together, and their only source of revenue disappeared. The bandits didn’t even bother to finish the bottles and plates of food, simply sampling it before flinging the rest across the room, bottles and plates smashed against the floor, spilling expensive food and drink all over the Tavern.

Finally Ben did he only thing he could do. He retaliated.

“I won’t let you take one more bite. My family worked hard to make that food and brew that drink. YOU WILL LEAVE THIS TAVERN AT ONCE” 

The bandits laughed a sinister laugh and sneered at Ben. 

The bandit leader stepped forward, smiling a crooked grin and said, “What are you going to do about it boy?”

Ben picked up a nearby chair and threw it at the bandit leader. The man caught chair, still smiling. 

“Ok, if you want to play, we can play,” said the bandit leader.

He then broke the chair in half by bringing it down on his knee. Ben, to the surprise of the bandits, stood his ground. He grabbed a kitchen knife from a nearby table. 

“Bring it on, bitch,” said Ben.

The bandits couldn’t believe their eyes. An eleven year old kid was standing his ground against them. 

Their leader was obviously angry, and retorted with a “I’ll show you who’s the real bitch,” 

The bandit leader drew his sword and quickly disarmed Ben with no problem. The cruel man smiled so wide it must have hurt. “You have spunk kid. I like that. I can respect that. We have our men attacking your village, there are several dozen of us. Tell you what, if you join us, we’ll leave and never come back. Deal?” The bandit stretched out a hand for Ben to shake. Ben didn’t want to join them, he couldn’t stand to leave the only home he had, and more importantly his parents. 

And he would never sink so low as to join a gang of bandits, living off other peoples misfortune. But the town was probably being torn apart, and if he didn’t join them people would die. Because of him. But what if they were lying? Well, what choice did he have?

“Ok, I’ll join you.” Ben reached out and shook the bandit’s hand.

“Welcome to the club,” Said the bandit leader, as he patted Ben hard on the back.

Ben saw it coming out of dark so fast it was like it came out of nowhere, as the first ghoul flung itself at Ben. It looked a dead person come back to life, but this was different. This was worse. The skin had turned lumpy and white, and shone in the darkness. Rippling beneath the lumpy white skin were muscles and sinew. The things hands were not hands at all, but claws. Razor sharp, perfect for cutting through flesh or the battered leather armor that Kronus and Ben wore. 

And worse of all was the face. It was completely inhuman, with large sharp teeth that could rip apart chunks of flesh. It’s eyes were pure white, and it had no nose. Simply holes where the nostrils would be. Kronus knew immediately these undead beasts were not simple undead, as these bodies were not at all human.

For the first time in a long time, Kronus was scared. The ghoul leapt at Ben, and Ben had to kick it out of the way to avoid being slashed by its long and deadly claws. Kronus quickly opened fire and in moments the ghoul was littered in bullet holes. Ben chopped off the ghouls head with Death Bringer while stabbing it through the heart with the silver short sword Beast Bane. The flesh of the dead ghoul started to burn away and bubble, no doubt from the oil that Ben had applied to both of his blades. But this was only the first of many. 

The night was filled with the sound of the shrieking undead. And the one they had just killed was just the first of many. Three more soon followed. One ran at Kronus from the darkness out of reach of the campfire. It slashed a fast downward strike at Kronus with its deadly claws, and Kronus just barely managed to block the strike with his ak47. He kicked it out of the way and shot it three times, once in the chest, the heart, and the head. The ghoul fell to the ground dead. Meanwhile, the other 2 attacked Ben.

Ben sliced both the head of one of the ghouls clean off with Death Bringer, and stabbed the other through the heart with Beast Bane. They fell to the ground dead, their flesh burning away into nothing from the strange oil Ben put on his swords, just like the first ghoul. But this was just the beginning. The ghouls were easy enough to kill, but they just kept coming, and for every ghoul that was cut down by the two men, three more would appear. They had strength in numbers, and it wouldn’t be long before the warriors’ camp would be overrun at this rate. 

Ben and Kronus knew this, but there was no where to go, no where to run to. They were standing on the edge of a cliff and couldn’t afford to be pushed back any further. Kronus glanced back behind him to see he was mere steps away from a fall that would almost certainly mean his death. But if we continue fighting like this, we are sure to die to these ghouls, maybe this is the end, thought Kronus. Kronus threw a grenade into the darkness, trying to slow the endless flow of ghouls that would soon be his demise. 

“Ben, any ideas?” Kronus yelled, hoping that Ben would be able to hear him over the shrieks of the undead.

“Yes,” replied Ben, to Kronus’s surprise, “What do you see at the bottom of the cliff?”

Kronus was almost out of bullets and felt tired, but if Ben thought they might survive then he had hope too. Between shots Kronus managed a quick glance into the depths beyond the cliff, but saw nothing more than fog and darkness. The hope that Kronus had was faltering. Three more ghouls attacked Kronus, Kronus managed to kill one with a few shots of his ak47, but the other two attacked. Kronus managed to block one of ghouls strikes with his ak47, but the ghoul grabbed it from his hands and threw it over the cliff. 

That was when Kronus knew it was over. Ben looked back at Kronus, fear in his face. The other ghoul slashed Kronus’s stomach, cutting through the leather armor and Kronus’s skin like butter. Ben yelled “KRRROONNNUUSSSS” just as Kronus’s limp body dropped to the ground. Except that there was no ground. And so Kronus fell into the depths below the cliff, leaving Ben to be overrun by the ghouls. And as he fell he watched as ghouls piled on top of Ben. Ben yelled in agony so loud that it must have been heard for miles. But Kronus couldn’t do anything about it. Kronus’s vision turned from red to black, and then, nothing.

Ben had been running through the woods with the bandits for hours, and was getting tired. He would complain, but these were not normal traveling companions. It would probably be safer to keep his mouth shut in this situation. The bandits had kept their word, and left the town immediately. But what they hadn’t promised was that they wouldn’t be taking anyone with them. Coming with them were several other children from Ivarstead. 

All the children were wearing handcuffs, and had a gag in their mouths to stop them from screaming. Ben supposed that they were going to be forced to become bandits too. Finally, the group of bandits came to a clearing, and the bandit leader stepped into the sunlight. On the other side of the clearing were another group of bandits, and their leader, a large bearded man stepped forward. The bearded man said,

“Good job capturing these children Mosly, I knew I made the right choice when I choose you lead the raid party. These are fine specimens, they will be sold for a pretty coin in Morthal in the slave market,” the bearded man said with a greedy smile. 

Shock hit Kronus like a bullet. They weren’t going to become bandits, they were going to be sold as slaves. Mosly looked at Ben, a wide smile on his face. 

“That’s right, you aren’t going to join us. Your just going to sold for a pretty coin,” he spat on Ben’s face, before adding, “Bitch.” 

Just then, out of the clearing came a warrior dressed in bladed armor. He was muscular, fit and fast. The large bearded man yelled, “Mosly, you and your men will take care of this pest, then met up with the rest of us at the boarder to Morthal, the rest of you, RETREAT!” And with that the other group bandits disappeared into the woods.

The man in bladed armor ran at Mosly’s group of bandits and tore through them like a knife through butter with his large Skull Crusher sword. Heads flew through the air, as the man mercilessly killed bandit after bandit with strong precise hits, until no one but Mosly was left. 

“No, please spare me.” Wimpered Mosly. The bandit leader was on his knees, begging for forgiveness.

“Promise never to come back to Ivarstead, and I won’t kill you.” Said the warrior with the bladed armor.

“I promise, anything, I swear.” Said the lowly bandit.

“I’ve got a message for your boss. Tell him to stay away from the village, and stay out of the slave business, or I’ll be back." 

“Y-yes sir,” replied the bandit, before running off into the woods. “Ok, let’s get you untied young ones.” Said the bladed man with a friendly smile. 

The man explained that he was a mercenary who was well payed by the members of Ivarstead to save the children. His name was LycanBlade. He then took the kids back to Ivarstead, where their parents were waiting for them. Ben’s parents were among them. 

“Ben’s mother hugged him tight, “Benny, I’m so happy your safe. Did they hurt you? I swear we’ll make those bandits pay for what they did to our village.”

“I’m fine mom,” Said Ben.

“You handled yourself well Ben,” Said Ben’s father, “You’ve earned the respect of the village.”

Ben smiled. But far in the distance he saw the man in bladed armor walking out of the town. And he realized what he truly wanted. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life living as a bar keep in Ivarstead. He ran towards Lycanblade. Ben had always enjoyed living in Ivarstead, but what he really craved was adventure. And fame in the way of battle. He wanted to leave Ivarstead and travel the world. And this was the one man who could give him that. He was willing risk anything to follow his dream. So he followed him.

Kronus head hurt. He couldn’t remember the last time he had hurt this much. The pain was so bad he couldn’t even remember who he was. He opened his eyes to find himself in a cave, dimly lit by a small camp fire, the only warm in the cavern other than Kronus’s battered body. It’s friendly crackling noise was soothing to Kronus’s ears. Kronus remembered what he saw from his fall, the way the ghouls tore Ben’s body apart. 

Piles of them upon the poor man. That man had meant a lot to him, and even though they only truly got to know each other for a few dangerous days, he considered Ben a father to him. So he did the only thing he could do when you lose a loved one. He cried. He cried until his eyes hurt and he could cry no more, and then he fell asleep.