The Kingdom of the Emerald Hills

Some years back, on a plain between this one and the next, the eternal war waged on. The leader of the light and his celestials continued on their quest to make this plain one of the righteous. The Dark Lord pressed for a more interesting existence full of freedom of choice in your actions. Unbeknownst to them both, two of their generals where enjoying the freedoms they had due to the distraction of the grand war. On the far outreaches of the plain a Celestial and a Demon held each other in a carnal embrace. Two leaders of armies crossing the battle line to fulfill their desires. As their desires run unbridled so to do their powers. The light entwined with the dark in a twisted pool. Not only in their aura but inside of the celestial as well. Unknown to them at the time, their passion had spawned something. Also outside of their knowledge, the energy released at the time of their climax had not gone unnoticed. As they lie there wrapped in each others arms, he who commands the light was making his way towards them.
“NEVEAH”, he demanded, ”What is the meaning of this!”
The two bolted upright at the sudden disturbance. They searched around looking for the owner of the voice. Then to Neveah’s torment she noticed the two white eyes hovering over them in the dark. Reaver stood defiantly beside her.
“My Lord…”, she stammered in disbelief.
“SILENCE! You who are supposed to be leading my armies against these foul beings. I find you laying in the arms of ones instead. This kind of insubordinance will not be tolerated.” In a flash of white light Neveah is thrown to the ground in a trail of feathers from her wings. Immediately Reaver draws his blades and opens his wings.
“You treat your leaders like slaves and then wonder why you are losing the war. At least have the integrity stand before us face to face.”
“Are you challenging me you insolent waste?”, replies the voice.
“This is what we are fighting to change. What good is existence if you can’t do with it what you please? Answer me that if you can. As for challenging you, you chose this fight when you struck her.”
“Reaver no!”, begs Nevaeh
“As you wish”, replies the voice.
Suddenly before him Reaver sees a man clad in golden plate mail. On his back between his silver wings rest a great sword with a burning white blade. The man slowly draws the blade from his back and moves towards the two of them. Neveah makes to draw her own blade but Reaver stills her hand.
“Such a large, clumsy blade. I expected better from you.”, Reaver mocks.
“You have made your final mistake in underestimating me demon.”, the light bringer replies as he charges towards Reaver.
The two clash ferociously in a flurry of blades as Nevaeh watches on. The blows from the massive blade jar Reaver as he blocks and darts in, his blades doing little damage to the lightbringer’s armor. Over and over the piercing sound of metal on metal is heard. While they fight Nevaeh notices white the blow she was dealt earlier had done. With every move she makes, more of her wings fall off and her blade has lost its glow. She has been cast out.
Suddenly there is a cry of pain. She looks to see that the light bringer’s left eye has gone dark. Along with a long dark gash from his forehead to his jaw bone. Reavers aim was true but the light bringer had jumped back in time to keep his head in one piece. Staggering backward the light bringer catches his balance. At once his aura glows larger and brighter.
“I will not fall to the likes of you!”, he screams as he unleashes a bolt of light at Reaver. Reaver is to close to dodge and catches the full force of the blast. His body lands in a clump next to Neveah and begins to rot away.
“Speak to me Reaver,” Neveah pleads.
Reaver raises his crumbling hand to touch her cheek but falls short as his body collapses into a pile of ash.
“He was weak.” gloats the light bringer.
Neveah screams,” Weak! You are the one who is weak. You were to weak to defeat him fairly and to weak to accept defeat. You are a child with to much power and one day you shall fall.”
“You, my dear have already fallen. For your service I show you mercy and will not destroy you. However you are powerless and shall be left here in this great black void for the rest of your days. Consider it time to think of what you have done.”
With this said the man in the gold armor begins to fade away. In his absence, Neveah feels another great power around her.
“His time will come.” says a deep echoing voice.
Neveah looks around and sees them. The deep red glowing eyes. She jumps back so hard she almost falls. And holds up her now useless blade.
“Do not fear me.” the voices echoes “I mean you no harm. In fact my purpose here is quite the opposite. I’ve come to offer you a chance to settle the debt.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think you would make a fine member of our army. You and what remains of my general.”
Neveah looks bewildered at the pile of ash where Reaver once laid.
“Not those remains my dear.” the voice rumbles, “These remains”. With that Neveah feels a warmth deep within her stomach. She smiles cradling her middle and begins to cry.

The child grew quickly. The boy showed to be a promising student of the dark ways. His mother sometimes wept watching him. He reminded her so much of his father. His dark eyes carried the same deepness and courage. He was large like his father and quite powerful. However her traits had not escaped him. For his size the boy was exceptionally graceful, sometimes moving in total silence. The part of him that showed his mixed heritage the best however were his wings. Like his mother’s had once been, they were large beautifully feathered wings. However the feathers themselves were black and almost leathery like his father’s. This drew much attention from the other demons. However instead of being outcast for his differences, he instead was held as an icon for the freedoms they were fighting for. It was no secret that the boy was a general in training. The Dark Lord embraced the boy as if he were his own child.
Over the years, his mother had indeed herself, become a general in the Dark Lord’s army. She had won many great victories over her once brethren. She had been fully trained in the ways of the dark. As was her son. He had adopted the fighting style of his father, twin long swords made of the finest of materials. Inspite of his size, he had grown to value speed and finesse over power. This helped his mother make her hardest decision. She currently sat in the shadows with the Dark Lord himself.
“This is the way it has to be. You know it is. However the decision is yours dear Nevaeh.”, the Dark Lord announced patiently.
“I do understand my lord, but he is my only child. It is hard for me to let him go. I loved his father and he reminds me of him so.”, Nevaeh replied.
“The child has a larger purpose. His differences make him more valuable than any of us. Myself included.”
“More valuable than you my lord?”
“Yes my dear. Though his strength is not as vast as mine, but his mixed lineage allows him to enter the material realm unhindered. He can walk with the mortals and spread our message. He can help our following grow on the earth plain. He will be a great leader someday. A leader of men.”
“But where or with whom can we entrust him?”
“In the Great Desert there lives a tribe that will accept him and teach him their ways. Their leader is a loyal follower and would consider this a great blessing. “
“How will they look upon his form?”
“They will respect him for it, teach him to use it his advantage, and train him to hide it when necessary. This is their art and tradition. He will be one of their finest warriors.”
“Perhaps we should leave the decision to him?”
“Perhaps we should. Rage come to me!” the Dark Lord beacons.
The boy flies to him in a graceful swoop,” Yes my lord”
“Your mother and I have an important opportunity for you to decide upon.” the Dark Lord announces. “We wish to send you toward your destiny. However you must travel far away and possibly never see either of us again. If you do go you may one day be the key to us accomplishing our goal. I will send you to a place to hone your skills before releasing you amongst common man.”
“Mother what are your feelings on this?”
Nevaeh sighs, “ Though I do not wish to lose you, I could never forgive myself for stopping you. This is why you must decide.”
“Why must I be the one to go?”
“Because your uniqueness makes you the only one who can” the Dark Lord encourages.
“Mother my heart belongs to you, but my spirit and my blades belong to the dark. I have made my decision. I will sacrifice what I know for the furthering of our influence. I will miss you both greatly but you will always be in my heart.”
Neveah just smiled weakly, ”I am proud of you my son. Your courage is that of your father. You will indeed make us all very proud.”
They hugged each other firmly. Meanwhile the Dark Lord made preparations for Rage’s departure. As the portal opened Rage could see the vast desert before him.
“Come now Rage,” the Dark Lord commanded, “ The Akkadians eagerly await your arrival. This tribe of assassins will teach you in their arts. Learn well from what they have to show you and one day you shall lead an uprising to victory.”
Rage kissed his mother on the cheek, bowed to the Dark Lord, and stepped through the door.

Rage could feel the warmth of the sand on the bottoms of his feet despite the cold night air. The breeze felt good as it shifted through his black wings. He looked up and could see the stars in all their brilliance. Suprisingly, for one who one who had lived in the skies, he was awe struck by their beauty. Perhaps he could enjoy his stay in this land. Someday maybe even call it home. He shall never forget his mother and his lord, but could get comfortable without them.
“Greetings young demon,” a raspy voice pierced the silence. Rage spun around quickly ready to fight. He had been so taken by the stars that he had not noticed the old man in the tan robe behind him.
“Be calm, I mean you no harm,” the old man says to the startled creature before him. His hazel eyes never shift away from Rage’s.
“Who are you?” Rage demands, “are you the one I am sent to meet.
“Indeed, I am Sharru,” replied the old man, “I am the seer for the Akkadian tribe.”
“Where is the rest of your tribe?”
“They are here.” Sharru replied. As he spoke several spots in the sand began to shift. Rage jumped back defensively as atleast a dozen armed men rose from the earth. “These are the arts you were sent to learn. We will teach you to be a ghost.”
“Truly, I have much to learn from you and your people.”, Rage stated inquisitively.
And learn he did. Over his years within the ranks of the Akkadians, Rage learned how to use the shadows to gain access to places and people otherwise off limits. He learned how to be unseen even in the light of day. Most importantly however, Sharru and the others taught him to hide his wings from sight so that he may wander amongst common man. Amongst his Akkadian brethren he had grown comfortable with letting them out, but amongst the masses he would not show them. Average men would not accept his appearance. That would make it very difficult to go unnoticed.
Throughout the years he learned much but he did not forget his true home. His Dark Lord still spoke to him in his dreams. Not just visions but truly spoke with him. He gave him guidance and encouragement. One such instant came to him on the eve of his thirteenth year amongst the assassins of the desert. The Dark Lord came to him and told him it was time to move on. There was a land far to the west that could be of much use to their cause. It was a land where the darkness was strong and if properly guided could rule the land. He was told to go to this dark empire and scout it out, but not to try and lead them just yet. He should gather alliances first and see how strong the darkness truly is in this land. He must go to the Emerald Hills.
And there he sat, in the shadows, surveying the land for six years before revealing himself to the people of this land. The first to discover him was a once promising group of fighters looking to rebuild. He was adopted by one of their leaders. A frost giant named Rockhound.

Rockhound Bloodstorm was his name. He was an old member of the kingdom and new many faces in it. He was a frost giant, very large with a cool temperament. He had long blonde hair and wore much fur despite the warm climate. Due to Rage’s large build, Rockhound quickly took him for a young giant. After much observation, he decided that Rage must be a fire giant due to his easily heated temper. He adopted Rage and trained him as his own. After a lot of practice, Rage even managed the occasional fireball, with the help of his Dark Lord, to help continue the façade of a fire giant and protect his true identity. Rage never mastered it but it was good enough to save face in the eyes of his teacher.
Though Rage did not learn much in combative skills from the frost giant, he did learn a lot about this land and it’s people. He learned the ways of this land and the laws as well. The two grew a fairly strong bond and after Rockhound felt he had taught his pupil most of what he could, he gave Rage the only great honor he could, his name. Rage arose from his training as, Rage Bloodstorm son of Rockhound, and he took this with pride but never forgot his true father.
With his training complete, Rage was introduced to Rockhound’s company of fighters. They seemed to be a promising group, with much unpolished talent and a dark heritage. Seemingly the perfect place for Rage to start spreading the word of his lord. Rage made friends with this group quickly and was instantly marked as one of their finest members. However this fine picture quickly began to dull.
The commander of this company first seemed to be an honorable man full of energy and honor. He and Rage got quite close and were seldom seen without the other. While the commander handled political stand points for the group, Rage worked as the intimidation factor to sway peoples opinions. This worked well until Rage noticed that more and more his companion sat in the background and did nothing. His once honorable appearance faded to give way to the true him. He turned out to be very well versed in the art of lying to avoid any foul attention in his direction. He also turned out to be a pawn, unable to make any decisions for himself. This left the company in complete disarray.
The troops grew unruly. Rage spoke to each of them privately. He asked their opinions and their problems. He tried to calm them and keep them from walking away from what still seemed to be potentially a grand fighting company. After talking to them all Rage new what had to be done. With a heavy heart he told the commander whom he had called friend that his time in power had come to an end and that he should step down. After their conversation the commander called a meeting and told the company of his withdrawal from the leadership position. Then the company voted on who should take his place. Here Rage received his first eye opening slap in the face. Of all the people who he had spoken with and been told would follow him, only a few voted for him. The others had instead turned face and refused to take a stand. This disturbed Rage greatly.
Quickly things fell into focus. Rage found that the company was not in disarray due to lack of leadership. Instead they were disordered due to lack of motivation. With all the potential they possessed, they lacked the drive to make use of it. They would not attempt to get better. The company seemed to be happy to be the kingdoms joke. This was something Rage could not stand. So after a year in their ranks, Rage bid farewell to his company and returned to the life of a wanderer.
Quickly Rage found friends who shared his drive. One of whom was like his Akkadian brothers. This one introduced him the dark bretheren of this land, a large group of men that reminded him so much of the Akkadians that for the first time in years he felt at home.

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To accomplish great things, first surround yourself with great company.

Shortly after joining his new circle of friends came time for the change of the lands power. For this event, there was to be a grand gathering the forest of Tanglewood. In the darkness of this gathering was a meeting more meaningful to Rage. At the witching hour he and his dark bretheren from across the land were to unite before their Grand Master and practice old traditions. Rage had previously met the Grand Master, a half dwarven, half elven dark knight, and had found him to be an honorable man.
The time for the gathering was near and Rage waited patiently in the trees across from the sanctified grounds. Suddenly there was an uproar from within and Rage edged nearer at the sound of the Grand Master’s shouts. There was an unwelcome guest in their clearing who refused to move. Rage drew even closer, blade drawn, prepared to slay the trespasser if he did not leave. He watched silently as the Grand Master lept from his chair with shocking speed, and seized the intruder. What was more shocking to Rage, however, were not the Grand Master’s movements, but instead it was his voice. He demanded the intruder to leave as he rose, but the voice was not that of himself. Rage recognized the voice that spewed from the Grand Master’s mouth well. So well it sent a chill down his spine. It was the voice of the Dark Lord himself. Rage was taken aback by the sound of the voice while the trespasser was dealt with properly.
At the same time however he had found a point of clarity. If this being had been chosen by the Dark Lord on a high enough level to muster his voice, then this surely is the one he was sent to meet and learn from in this land. After settling this in his head, Rage entered the clearing hidden in the trees. As he approached the table at which the Grand Master sat, he noticed the circle of men surrounding it. He bowed respectfully to all of them, knowing they must be great members of the inner circle. Then he bowed deeply as he paid his respects to the Grand Master. Rage was honored when the gesture was returned by all. Truly he had found a group of honorable men.
Shortly they were joined by others and the meeting began. All were welcomed by the Grand Master. He told them of himself and his mentor and of his plans for their future. With his tale complete, the Grand master poured the purest of water into a skull that sat before him and spoke to the bretheren.
“Come my brothers, reveal yourselves to each other and drink from the skull of a fallen brother.”
One by one they came to him. First the masters, then accolades, and finally initiates. They each unmasked their face as they reached the table and spoke their name to the bretheren, and with their own words of wisdom to the group drank deeply from the skull and passed it back to the Grand Master.
Much trust was shown as Rage approached the Grand Master with weapon in hand without a second look. He bowed to the Grand Master and then to his brothers and spoke,” to the power we respresent”. He drank and then returned the skull to the Grand Master who took it with a smile. After the ritual was done the meeting was ended. Before leaving the grounds, Rage found himself embraced by the Grand Master and given two chores to deal with before leaving the forest of Tanglewood. He accepted these with honor and took his leave of the clearing in the trees.
When he reached the road again, Rage looked at the dark sky and smiled. For the first time since entering this land he knew his purpose. Slowly he covered his face and hurried off into the night to handle his first task.

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To accomplish great things, first surround yourself with great company.

When he awoke in the morning Rage found the forest flooded. The skies were clogged with dark gray clouds and the rain fell in drops the size of stones. Thunder rolled across the land and then came yet another surprise. On the tail of the thunder came the Dark Lord’s voice echoing through the trees.
“Come all ye servants of darkness. Gather your arms in defiance of the bringers of light.”
Upon hearing this, Rage immediately returned to his camp and began to meditate. He called upon his Dark Lord and asked him if he should take part in this fight.
“Indeed my childe” came the Dark Lord’s voice, “however, do not expect to win this war. It is merely a call to arms for my followers. I have done this to help you find trustworthy faces. These will be those that you shall one day lead to victory in my name. Take this chance to learn your foes as well.”
With that the Dark Lord took his leave of Rage’s mind. There was no need for further guidance. Rage understood fully what he must do. He gathered his arms and slithered into the marshy woods. He took his time and surveyed the area, gathering coin in his own way as he went. While personally he had little use for gold, he had found it to be quite useful in coercing common man into aiding him.
Such a moment did arise soon enough. As he made his way through the woods, he found two small goblin tribes in the heat of battle. Around this war was a crowd of men cheering loudly. After questioning some members of this crowd, he did discover that these tribes were competing for one of the kingdoms treasures. The battle was fierce but in the end it was decided with only four members surviving. This was an opportunity Rage could not pass up. He made his way towards the tribe’s chieftain. The small guards that surrounded him made effort to stop Rage’s approach. Not wanting to ruin his chance, Rage stop and shook his pouch at the chieftain, allowing the coins inside to jingle. Quickly the guards were motioned away from Rage and he continued along his path. After a few brief words with the chieftain, Rage handed him a fair amount of coin and took possession of the treasure. It turned out to be a relic known as the “sword of flame”. After a bit of inspection, Rage found its powers and decided it was a good trade indeed. It would prove to be a fine surprise against many spell weavers.
After receiving his prize, Rage continued his trek through the woods. Before long he stumbled upon a group gathering deep in the trees. He sat in the shadows and watched them intently. This group seemed to be led by a fiery red haired barbarian. Most of his troops seemed to be fairly untrained but devoted. Also amongst this group sat several of his new dark brethren. This must be the gathering of the dark army. Rage decided he did, indeed, have his work cut out for him if he was ever to make force worthy of his lord from this group. His dark brothers were mostly well trained, but there were quite a few young initiates in the crowd. The group circled around what appeared to be four of the Dark Lord’s priestesses. These seemed as thrown together as the fighters. While for the most part they were quite fine women, they were poorly organized with what they must do. They spoke of a dark obelisk at which they were to raise the Dark Lord himself, but seemed quite confused on how to do it.
Suddenly, the sound of soldiers moving in unison filled the woods. The forces of light had rallied their army and were headed into the deepest part of the forest.
“The forces of light move towards our dark spire!” bellowed the barbarian, “We must not allow them to destroy it! With me my children! Protect the priestesses! They must raise our master!”
Without a single argument, they army encircled the women and marched off. Rage slipped in with his brothers in the rear. Not far down the path, he heard screams of battle and the declaration that the forces of light had already fortified. He and his brothers quickly moved up to the front. They were intent on finding a way around, but to no avail. One of his brothers fired arrows continuously at the light bringers’ line. Though his shots were true, the warriors continued to rise. Behind the line, Rage could hear the sweet chanting of women’s voices. What could they possibly be doing over there? He soon found out.
The enemy’s line parted and through it stepped a figure Rage was all to familiar with. It’s white garb, trimmed in gold. It’s glorious white feathered wings, and it’s blinding white aura. The enemy had used the obelisk, somehow, to raise a high angel to their aid. Rage’s brethren hit it time and time again but their shots did nothing. Common steel had no effect on this creature. Quickly Rage thought of the blade he had acquired from the goblins. He drew it from it sheath and immediately it began to burn with the fires of hell. As soon as Rage stepped from his observation point, the angel looked directly at him and motioned his troops to attack. Rage was thrilled to see there fear in the creature’s eyes, but his joy was short lived. Three paladins engulfed Rage from all sides. He spun around and threw a dagger at the closet’s chest only to hear it clang against his chest plate. He spun again and swung hard at the one trying flank him. Again the piercing clang of metal on metal. The paladin swung fiercely. Rage parried his attack and went for another of his own. The tip of his blade traveled straight for the open spot under the warriors arm. And suddenly the world went black.

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To accomplish great things, first surround yourself with great company.

Rage awakened in the gentle arms of one of the priestesses. Her smooth, dark skin and raven black hair comforted him. She smiled gently as he opened his eyes and caressed his forehead.
“Where am I?”, Rage questioned with a weak raspy voice.
“Shhh. Save your energy. You are safe here in my care child of darkness.” the priestess spoke. Her voice flowed a sweetly as the wind itself as she laid her calming hand on Rage’s bare chest. Suddenly Rage realized that all of him was bare. This disturbed him greatly and he attempted to jump from the bed on which he laid. This not bother him because he was modest, but instead because he knew now that his wings were exposed. He wrapped them tightly around his body and covered them with his blanket. The priestess chuckled.
“What are you laughing at!” Rage demanded.
“You have no need to hide them from me.” the priestess said softly.
Rage looked deeply into her eyes and for the first time noticed a shimmer of light. He did not know why but it was familiar to him. What happened next amazed and shocked Rage. The priestess noticed look of confusion on Rage’s face and decided to enlighten him in the best way possible. She rose from her seat and slowly approached him. As she grew closer to him, she undid her cloak and let it fall to the floor revealing her bare, smooth curving body. More importantly it revealed her raven black, satin feathered wings. She unfurled them to show him all their glory.
“Who are you?” Rage stammered.
“I am Eliana Delaney. My friends call me Melons.” for reasons made obvious to Rage the moment she dropped her cloak. “I was once a celestial servant of the light, but found myself drawn to the Dark Lord’s cause. So before I could be cast out, I rebelled to the darkness. My time spent here darkened my wings and skin. Now I am a priestess for our cause to keep me safe from the light bringers.”
Slowly Rage relaxed. She was much like him, celestial blood serving the darkness. He slowly let the blanket fall from his shoulders and spread his wings before her. He felt something for her he had never felt before. He was comfortable being completely seen by her. He gazed lovingly upon her body as she did his.
“It has been so long since I have been near anyone like myself.” Eliana said sweetly as she floated closer to Rage.
“As it has been for me.” he said with a shaky voice.
“Do not be afraid, I shall not try to tie you down. Your spirit is to free to claim.”
“I do not fear you. I have just never….”
Eliana silenced Rage with her supple lips against his as the rest of her body slowly pressed into his own. The temperature in the room climbed as they wrapped their wings around each other and slid into the bed.

_________________
To accomplish great things, first surround yourself with great company.

Rage slipped quietly from the bed and dressed himself. He had work to tend to at the royal court. As he went to the door, he heard a rustle in the bed behind him.
“Farewell dark child. Perhaps our paths shall entwine again someday” came Eliana’s sweet voice.
“Indeed they may” Rage said as he passed through the door.
Rage walked through the evening with a new found vigor. His time in her arms had made him feel more alive than ever. A part of him wished he did not have to leave her, but he knew that his life was not one to involve her in. Now was not the time to dwell on these things though. He had a job to complete.
Soon Rage entered the court square. He sat on the outer edge and observed his surroundings. Many familiar faces floated around and many royal guards as well. He spotted a tables were the inner most circle of his dark brotherhood was seated. Rage slid past the guards and made his way to the table. He was met well as he paid his respects to each of the masters in turn. Then he took his leave and began his hunt. Slipping through the crowd, he took note of each face and each possible exit should things go wrong. Then, he spotted his prey, a treacherous woman who had crossed the wrong line. For her trespass she had been made a target. Rage was being paid handsomely for her life, and tonight he shall deliver it.
He sat back and observed her for several minutes. He noticed several possible problems with his plan. First, he noticed that she kept a healer in her pocket. While that did not stop her from being slain, it did provide her quick revival. Secondly she stayed quite close to the monarchs table and therefore close to the guards. While this did make Rage slightly hesitant, it would not stop him. He knew that all that was required to fulfill his duties was timing and patience.
Using some of the coin he had acquired earlier, Rage paid a man to inform the guards that the healer was directly involved in the uprising against the kingdom. It worked out wonderfully. The royal guard did not hesitate. They went directly to her table and drug the healer away kicking and screaming of his innocence. That should keep him out of the way. Now to handle her. The time did soon provide itself. Feast was ready and the crowd lined up between her table and the monarch’s. That handled the guards and soon she sat her plate on the table and went to get a drink. This was his chance, quickly he slid through the crowd and, as he passed by, dusted her plate with his own special spices.
With that done he left the crowd and continued to watch from the outside. Within moments she crumpled to the floor choking violently before she went completely limp. Her healer watched in horror from his cage as she passed away just out of his healing touch. Her body was quickly hauled away to continue the festivities. With no visible suspects her death was quickly written off to merely choking on her meal.
After the body was gone and the feast complete, the queen stepped up and began to honor her people. Many awards were given by the exiting queen and her regent. Then came a very honorable occasion. A woman whom had dedicated much of her life to the kingdom was given the grandest award. Before the court and all the people of this kingdom she was knighted as the sun sank in the sky.
The next series of events opened Rage’s eyes to where the kingdom was falling in the hands of the light. One of his brethren, the grand master Sir Delphos Darkheart, stepped before the crowd. Clad fully in his dark armor he called forth to men from the crowd. They knelt before him just as the woman had knelt earlier. Suddenly the crowd of knights began to shuffle at their table. The dark knight, Sir Delphos, spoke many found words of the two dark figures knelt before him. Then, he drew his blade and dubbed them both knights of the kingdom by order of the queen. Suddenly the circle of knights sprang from their table shouting in outrage. They demanded this act be undone. Although it be well known that the monarch has full ability to knight whomever she deems fit, the circle proclaimed that she had no right without their approval. They continuously argued, seeming more like children throwing at fit, than the great leaders they are supposed to be.
Rage saw that as long as the light held the power, this kingdom was doomed to lose it’s old code. The code of chivalry, honor, respect and loyalty. The knights that currently lead this land are but ego driven children loyal only to themselves. If this was allowed to stay than this land is surely doomed. So this was the point when Rage decided that he must help bring back the old code and save this once dark and glorious kingdom. Even if it cost

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To accomplish great things, first surround yourself with great company.