Legends: The Knight of Helm (#1)

Chapter 2

The black hair fell down in a ponytail down the strong man's back. He sat in a throne carved out of stone, as he rested his bearded chin on his fist. He had a thin beard just following his jaw line. He had a rather pale body and a slim noise. His blue eyes seemed to stare a man into stone, and a vain in his head seemed to pop when angered. He was, despite common belief, a patient man with a great mind. He had been taught by Helm's greatest knights and by others around the world.

The realm of man, known as Lumesc, became more mundane for the man every following day. He wasn't content with just the throne he now held; he needed the world in his hand and to reinforce it, the power of a god. It was not enough to be a simple man. He needed more, meaning, to his boring existence. He was the top warrior of his own army, being able to take ten men on at once, with a dagger not even his specialty, the mace.

"Lord Volohs your forces were repelled once more; this is our second time meeting death and defeat." The soldier reported with a bow.

"You speak before your master without his address? At least it is with reason for your haste. So what do you suggest to your lord?" The man replied standing from off his throne.

He pasted a while as the soldier thought for a moment. Volohs looked back at his quart wizard, expecting an answer. In honesty it mattered not what they would say Volohs always trumped their plans. He had the strong mind for a leader and would make a plan three feet ahead of his advisers.

"I suggest another onslaught my lord, we will eventually ware at their army. I can use a charm to make them invisible to our enemies." The wizard suggested.

"Hm, not a bad idea, and you soldier?" Volohs said with his booming deep voice.

"I believe stealth is a great plan." The armored man bowed once more, to avoid disrespect.

Volohs gave a soft hum as if thinking, and began to pace back and forth. He paused and looked into the sky for a moment, before sitting back on his throne. Volohs darted his eyes to the left and the right before giving a soft chuckle.

"Why even fight", Volohs asked.

"Pardon me my lord, then what will we do?" The wizard asked.

"Ah, why fight a battle ourselves, when we can have the Ommart do it for us? Twisted men, more brutal then imagination itself, even Helm will fall to such power, or bow. They have pale skin, and white pupils, with a void for an iris. The have their hair grow down their necks into their backs. They love the feeling of pain, making them hunger for battle. The ultimate enemy, they don't fear a thing."

"Lord Volohs, this is unwise, we cannot control such a force! Men have tried, and all have failed!" The wizard replied, as Volohs waved the soldier away.

"Don't judge your master, for when have I ever been wrong?"

"No man can kill one Ommart, and you want an army of them at our kingdoms door?"

"Wizard, I advise you silence. Watch your master as he succeeds in his ambition."

"Yes me lord."

Volohs walked quickly now, waving his hand at one of his handmaidens, signaling to get him ready for battle.

"Gather my seven best men." Volohs roared.