Monster Legends: Inevitable Betrayals

Doomeath Rising

When Taiga claimed his leadership of the central kingdom, every one of the kingdoms had to prepare for eventual war. There was a neutral space that was set up just in case, which was a small tavern in the middle of nowhere, called Edge of the World. 

Edge of the World was a place where any monster from any kingdom could enter, without judgement from other monsters. There were no laws in the tavern, which meant that monsters could do whatever they pleased. The maximum occupancy was twenty, but it usually never went above twelve patrons at a time. 

The small building was built by Earth kingdom engineers and had a fancy sign which read its name. It was in between the Light and Magic kingdoms, which could be a tough spot to end up in if war was in progress. 

Six monsters currently occupied the bar, which were Shademoon, Gualgui, Draghar, Raydex, Vixun, and the current bartender Nabuline. 

A seventh monster entered, completely soaked from the heavy rain outside. It had a dark grey cloak on, with a large hood that obscured its face. It stood approximately seven feet tall, and hovered slightly off the ground. 

"Whaddya want, lad?" asked Nabuline, cleaning a mug with a white cloth. The monster approached slowly, intimidatingly floating toward her. 

"Cherry whiskey with a twist. Korruptus style," it said. It had a unique voice, which could be described as a woman trying to imitate a masculine voice. Nabuline didn't think much of it, pouring its drink without hesitation. 

"What's your name?" asked Shademoon, a former member of Kimber's guard. He had a large purple hat and a mask similar to Zorgon's. He wielded two daggers and had bulky violet armor that covered his body. 

"Doomeath," it answered, slurping down the fluid through its hood. Shademoon tried to see its face, but all that was visible were two pink eyes that stared back at him. 

"So, why are you here, Doomeath? To make friends?" joked Shademoon, taking a sip of his beer. He slid his arm on the table to signal supposed friendship. 

"It's a long story. Do you desire to listen?" asked Doomeath. Shademoon laughed drunkenly, slamming his fist on the table. 

"Sure, why not? Y'know you don't have to be so formal around me," he replied. Two pink hands emerged from Doomeath's robes, and were placed on the table next to Shademoon's. 

"I was once a martyr, praised by everyone around me. I completed a noble task which granted me fame and fortune. You know, the classic hero story. There wasn't a single person who would forget my name,-" 

"I honestly forgot your name," interrupted Shademoon. 

"Shut up! Let the lad finish!" barked Nabuline. She was bent over the bar to listen in on Doomeath's story. 

"Anyway, I had lots of people who cared about me and was praised constantly. One of my allies was mercilessly killed in battle, but he was only one of many that died overall. I was lucky that more did not perish alongside him. When everything settled down months later, I began to separate from my group. I started isolating myself from the world, creating theories and such to pass the time. If I had to describe hell, that would be it." 

"Why would you distance yourself from your family? What purpose did that serve?" asked Gualgui, a wise magician that sat adjacent from Shademoon. She had a wooden mask that disguised her upper face, and wild purple and red hair that shook like a mound of feathers. 

"I felt unwelcome among them. They were so happy together and yet, I was always alone. As more time passed, my subconscious started to speak to me about things I had never thought of. I started to doubt everything I once knew," told Doomeath. It retracted its two hands from view, slinking back in its rickety chair.