The WarMaster: Blade Of The Eternal

Chapter 1: A Warrior's Genesis

A raven and an egg stand tall on a branch in the forest that lay on a hill above a longhouse. The raven began to stare inside the house with such intensity and concern. The raven twitched and the egg started to crack. This was the omen of a cursed warrior. A warrior destined for constant suffering and fighting. The fire crackles inside the living room of this wooden home. War banners, weapons, and symbols of honor and glory hang on the houses walls.

  A woman screams in agony, she's giving birth. A shaman with a long beard and foggy blue eyes is helping tend and deliver the baby. The shaman yanks the baby out by his foot and holds him in the air. The woman screams violently but amazed as she beholds her sight at the boy that she just gave birth to. "A child of the Claughyí clan. The son of Artur and Mei Claughyí what shall you be named?" Asked the shaman as he stared into the baby's soul. The boy's father leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. The father declares "Arkin. Arkin Claughyí." His mother, nods her head in agreeance of the name. The shaman stretching to hold the boy higher in the air.

  The Shaman notices a scar on the newborn "A scar on the lower left of the lip. A hard time he will have expressing himself." The Shaman asks "Arkin Claughyí! what shall you become?" He stares into the soul of the boy's eyes searching for the fate that lies ahead. The shaman shudders, trying to visualize the newborn's future. He sees visions of empty fields of the forests. The empty fields gradually became more cruel and bloody. Forests filled with steel and guts. Dead bodies piled everywhere, in the bushes, in the roots of the land. "He's fated for the path of the depraved warrior. The man who can see, that the others can't. A difficult time time he will have communicating and expressing himself." As he looks down to the scar that lies on the bottom left of his lower lip. The baby boy screaming and crying.

  The shaman hands the boy back gently to his mother. "He will be a very strong and fierce warrior but watch cautiously ovef his future. For it is the ones who are granted great strength await a tragic and miserable path." The baby stops crying as he stares into his mother's eyes. The mother's eyes full of the purest love. The father's eyes began to light up as he saw the life that was unfolding before him. He did not want his son to become this tragic warrior. The father knew that he was going to have to do everything with all of his will to not let his son live this future predicted for him.

  Artur Claughyí walked up closer to his wife and son. He unsheathes the poleaxe that hanged on his back. He stomps it on the floor and looks at his son with a serious expression. This poleaxe has been in the family's generations for hundreds of years. He holds the child in the air by the palm of his hand. "Arkin my son! You will become the hero of mankind! A hero who will bring a prosperous and brighter future for the future of our bloodline!"

Mei snuggles up against her husband's arm and looks at him with a smirk. She is going to help with every bit of her spirit to raise this boy to become a great man. Artur lowers the boy between him and Mei he loosens up his face and smiles back. This was a day that created the path of a new soul entering into the world.

  The years went on and as they did Artur trained Arkin very strictly to prepare him for the life that was set for him. He had Arkin on a very harsh and strenuous routine. Arkin was a natural talent, a very quick learner. He was learning techniques and tactics very quickly at such a young age. He was excited by the stories his parents had told him about their roots and their ancestors. The parents themselves were very fierce and skilled warriors themselves, former Guardians of Aeternos.

  "One day you will have this poleaxe, it's the Claughyí family weapon. It's been passed from generation to generation for thousands of years. Since the times our family had roamed the clouds of Talhmhei.
Many great warriors and chieftains have hailed from the Claughyí name. It is in your roots Arkin to become the great warrior you're destined to be. You were born to do something significant." Artur had told his son with a reassuring smile and certain look in his eyes. "Something significant..." Arkin repeated feeling euphoric.