WARDOME

Prologue

In a world where magic flowed whimsically and survival was at its cruelest, everything was wasted with gore and conflict. The world of Gargeas was the epitome of war and strife. The elements battled for superiority. Men and all beings that wielded strength spun in a vortex of everlasting destruction. The weak were vanquished and only those who sat atop a throne of corpses thrived. Since long ago, Gargeas was in a maelstrom of chaos. The gods had abandoned their creations; they shunned all life from mercy. But before they had left, they had showered Gargeas with their blessing. The blessing to survive – the gift of war. It was then where peace had long been forgotten. People’s hearts were filled with rage and greed. They did not acknowledge others belonging to different tribes and races. They only believed that slaying their enemies was the goal of life. Everyone scattered into groups and through the years some had grown into kingdoms and domains while others perished under their might. Never did the warring era come to an end. Gargeas had molded the most dangerous fighters. For years, all strived to be the strongest. That is when the warriors of Gargeas grew to extraordinary lengths. Mastering the forms of magic and dark arts, running as fast as the wind, smashing boulders into dust and forging weapons that can butcher an army in one swoop were but a fragment of talents that had come forth from the relentless age of struggle.

For millennia, Gargeas was in a constant state of battle. Until the day when the skies erupted in flames and the enemy that even the gods themselves feared had stepped into the very soil of Gargeas. It had come to wreak havoc upon the very heart of war itself. They willed to turn the vortex of destruction into a torrent of blood. Their purpose was the annihilation of life from Gargeas – they were the Demons. It could have been that the Demons had returned to their home for Gargeas was a world of hell from the start. The beings of Gargeas were unaware of their coming and had not mustered enough power to destroy them. The warriors of Gargeas were busy fighting amongst themselves that they had been completely overwhelmed by a new enemy. The Demons were all too powerful that for years warring against one another had stopped. Everyone was busy defending against the swarm of hellish creatures that marched closer to their doorstep. It was then that alliances were formed and the power of unity was invoked. The Demons and the inhabitants of Gargeas were in an even match. Since then, everyone had honed their skills and mastered their gifts to its potential in order to drive out the intruders from their world. The Demons were no fools either; they had adapted perfectly to the situation and were learning every step as they endeavor to erase the inhabitants of Gargeas. The Banquet of Champions had commenced.

Out of the growing warriors that the world had nurtured came beings that transcended beyond mortality. Their name resounded throughout the whole of Garneas. The Ten Warlords or simply The Warlords were born. Although the Warlords did not fight as allies, their blades had become the best of friends. They had a single aim and that is to exterminate the horde of Demons that threatened their home. In Wardome – the very center of Gargeas and also the heart of the battlefield was when The Warlords triumphed over the Demon horde. They were demons among Demons; they obliterated everything that had come their way. At last the Demons had scurried off in hiding - the Warlords had struck fear into their cold hearts. They sought vengeance against the beings of Gargeas - striving to rid it of life. Not all the Demons had commit to vengeance however, some acknowledged and praised the might of the Warlords so greatly that they pleaded to join their army. As joyous as it may seem Gargeas had not in the slightest become a brighter place. The very nature of its existence was to wage war, and so it had returned to its original state.

After a short while, there was a growing power in the East. The Ironguard was a kingdom led by the Iron King. He was once defeated by one of the Warlords and vowed to become the most powerful being that both gods and demons feared. He amassed a strong army to ravage other tribes and groups that thrived in the land. The Ironguard knights were his renowned warriors. After the Banquet of Champions had finished the Warlords established a rule to all nations of Gargeas. It was the rule of Neutrality, they proclaimed that a complete unity in this world was but a fleeting dream and complete mayhem a haunting nightmare. The Neutral Cities were founded; it accommodated every life form in Gargeas including the Demons. Children who were too young to fight and men and women who sought an almost peaceful life gathered there. In a Neutral city everyone was to rejoice and forget the animosity that settled between them. Warriors drank their wine and shared stories with each other. Guilds were made - there was no discrimination between members and harmony was found between the different life forms that had been united. The only difference between the warriors were their power and skills. Neutral cities were found everywhere except Wardome. The Warlords agreed that they, along with their army, shall protect the Neutral cities. They warned anyone that would dare break this rule to destruction. Everyone had thought of this and obliged not because they feared the Warlord's tremendous strength but mostly because they will eventually have a place where they can finally be free from the madness. All gave their word, all except one – the Ironguard whose King did not believe in neutrality for he wished of a single kingdom that governed all of Gargeas and he to be at its throne. He did not comply with the Warlord's and other's petition for a temporary peace. After he had harnessed the power he stole from the Demons he rallied his forces to begin his advance towards the whole of Gargeas. He did not go for an all-out assault but instead for a slow decisive conquest as to not gain much attention. He started with the North and carefully went his way about. He had captured the Demon Queen and had siphoned her life force so that he may become an unstoppable and immortal entity, and he did. As a last resort the Demon Queen exhausted all her magic, vomitting a liquid gold. It flowed through the floor unknown from the Ironguard. The Demon Queen had been tricked by the false hope of harmony between the human Ironguard and her legion of demon warriors. She was the queen of Demons yet she was deceived by the Iron King - a mere human. It did not matter if you were a demon or not, in Gargeas evil had no limits. ‘Go. Go and search for the one who will bring an end to this King’s reign.’ Was the queen’s dying wish. So the gold that glimmered in the last magic of the Demon Queen seeped into the ground searching for a way to fulfill the queen’s final wish. It had reached the house of a skillful artisan who was making weapons for the war. The magical liquid flowed inside a jar in the forge where the molten steel was to be put for forging. The artisan was surprised to see the gold for he did not remember acquiring such a precious metal. He was not someone who yearned for riches; to create the best of weapons was his passion. So when he saw the gold inside the jar he thought of making it into an item - a weapon for his newborn son to use when he grows into a strong man and warrior. He poured the gold and forged a golden scythe and named it the Golden Reaper in memory of his wife who had been slain by the demons. Time had come when the Ironguard had reached the city in which the artisan lived. He had asked his merchant brother to take his baby to safety and with the scythe he forged for him. He had still to deliver the weapons that a tribe of hunters had paid him to make. So he did not flee from the impending danger that awaited him. When a battle broke loose, the tribesmen were killed and so was the artisan. He was pierced through the heart by a dagger. He wanted to at least see his son wield the weapon he made for him before he died. He knew that something like this may happen so he gave his brother his last message in a form of a letter to let his son read it when he grew old enough to understand what it conveyed.

‘My son, I apologize that you had to grow up without your parents but remember that we have never abandoned you. Know that we love you always and forever. I have given you this gift, I named it the Golden Reaper but you can call it by whatever you desire. With this we hope you can reach your dreams and give you hope whenever you are down.’

Those were the words that were attached to the blade that the merchant carried with him in his wagon, the message the artisan hastily wrote the last time he ever saw his child. The merchant brother looked behind him to the city that was set on fire. Shouts and screams were heard as they hurriedly went out. He had a terrible feeling. He glanced to the crying baby beside him and whipped his horses to go faster in order to find safety. He wanted to save the last of his family. The echoes of clattering hooves slowly disappeared into the misty woods. Thus, the eternal conflict rages on.