Alman's chronicle

Chapter one, in which Alman kills someone important

"TO ROT WITH THEE AND THYNE!!" Alman screamed as he jolted awake. He spun around and looked at the ornate clock that hung from its eternal noose on the wall of his room. The thirteenth section of night, just as it had been all the nights before. He got up and walked straight to the washroom, where he immediately proceeded to splash his face with water, watching the swirling red clouds that formed in the well as he did. "By the great ones, this blasted curse has disturbed another good night's sleep yet again" muttered Alman, wiping the blood-water mixture from his cheeks. He looked up at the mirror that hung above the well, giving off just a tiny bit of light. As usual, he saw most of his upper body, which included his powerful arms, which had been trained in the use of nearly every weapon imaginable, his chest, which bore many scars from numerous fights & the markings of a thousand different curses, each with their own story (and usually the skull of a monster to go with the story of how each curse was broken), and his face, which brightly displayed the toll years of war had taken on him. He was a warrior, and it could certainly be said that he looked like one. His eyes were cold & he had the looks of a fighter and a killer. He was not like his cousin, Elran, who possessed stories (and only stories) of great fights and adventures. Where Elran used his looks & bravado to gain fame and fortune, Alman used his willpower and his skills in combat (though his fame was really more of infamy). There was not an inch of Nortburen which Alman had not yet set foot on, with the exception of the Passage of the Dead that separates Nortburen from the land of Khairon. He was an adventurer, an explorer, and assassin, while his cousin was a liar, lecher, and a coward. Yet women swooned at the sight of Elran, while they hid inside and locked their doors if they heard Alman was anywhere near them. He was not attractive like Elran, but he didn't care. He had honor, which was something that Elran completely lacked (though some say Alman lost his honor the moment he became an assassin). Well that’s enough about what he looks like, let’s get back to the present. Just as Alman had expected, a small cut sat just under his right eye, nestled between a few other scars and a red spot where the blood had been wiped away. He washed off the remaining blood, and saw that the priest had been right. He had been cursed.

     It had been six days ago, Alman was on his way to, well... let’s just say he was going to "attend" an important meeting, some sort of discussion between the Three Kings of Nortburen, which literally translates to Northern Burrow in the ancient tongue of the north (the ancestors of the people who now live there had once dwelled underground). On his way there, he had been stopped by a beggar in a brown cloak. He had given the man food, and in return Alman received a knife in his chest. There was something odd about this blade, however. Being a former knight of Barrengraad, Alman had endured many stab wounds from all manner of weapons, but he had never felt anything as soul-crushingly cold as this before. The blade felt and looked as though it were made of ice, and Alman collapsed. After finally regaining consciousness, he pulled the dagger from his gut and managed to walk back to Kurbengraad. As he awaited recovery in the hospital, the priest of the royal house came to visit him. The priest revealed that the blade had been cursed with an ancient and powerful spell that caused the victim to become a bloodthirsty beast within seven days and nights. He would perform as many exorcisms and healing rituals as necessary, but they would be expensive. Of course, money was nothing to Alman, and he accepted the priest's offer. The holy man had tried at least fifty different things by now, and all they had done was cover the scars until midnight, when they would appear again with a new addition among them. That was six nights ago, including the one that had just passed. By the time tonight arrived, the symbol would be complete, and the once noble warrior would be branded a demon, and would be executed. "Yeah, like hell I will." he thought. Like he would really abandon everything and give in to death just because of an assassination attempt and the lies spread by some church. Alman walked to the door and pushed it open but nearly fell over backwards when he saw that the one he seeked was already there.