Dragon Slayer Arcos
End All Life; Embrace Silence
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The world of Xaedar is upon the brink of complete darkness. The people live in fear as a ruthless conqueror works to secure his reign over all things. Any and all resistances have been destroyed, no matter how minute they may be. All hope for a better future has been extinguished, except for that of a young man's. He will be the light in the darkness. Will he be able to end the fear and pain, or will he fail? This is his story. The cool breeze wafting through the woods that surrounded the small cottage his family lived in smelt sweet and revitalizing. Sweat poured from his exposed skin as he worked with his sword against the wooden dummy he had constructed to practice against. The wood was scarred and chipped immensely, evidence of Jaymes' dedication to his training. The sun had sunk to only a few hands breath from the horizon, yet Jaymes continued to practice. The <em>thwack</em> of his sword striking the wood pounded out a savage music to his ears. The shrill cry of his mother rang out from his house, "Jaymes, its time for supper! Now!" Jaymes sighed and stabbed the ground with the sword, leaving it rooted where it had been planted as he trotted to the cottage. He was nearly twenty five summers old, yet he still lived with his parents. His father had been injured in their forge and could no longer work. So naturally Jaymes took up the responsibility of ensuring his family had food to eat and a roof over their heads. Upon entering the cottage, his mother looked at him with a serious eye, then grumbled slightly as she handed him a towel to wipe the sweat from his naked torso and face. His family wasn't rich, most of their furniture was wooden, made from the timber around their house. On the dinning table stood a medium pot of steaming soup, a fresh loaf of bread and butter sat next to it. His father was already at the table eating when Jaymes approached and took his seat, followed by his mother. No one spoke as they all ate, when the meal was finished, an awkward silence prevailed until his mother finally said, "The Draft is today. Best find yourself a good shirt." Her striking blue eyes downcast as she studied her empty bowl. His father said nothing in response, likewise engrossed in the empty depths of his bowl. The Draft happened every year, young men and woman were selected from every village to serve the Armada. If there was any resistance at all, families were slaughtered in front of everyone as a reminder they belonged to the High Lord and his empire. Those that were taken were never heard from again. Jaymes hated it all with a passion, and wanted to rage against people for not fighting back. But he knew that the spirits of his people had been broken a long time ago. He could see it in their eyes. Nodding he got up and headed to his tiny room. There wasn't much in the room besides a small dresser and bed. On the walls were shelves that held some of his metalwork. Other than that, it was barren and sad. Jaymes donned a shirt and returned to the main room of the cottage where his parents were waiting. Together without a word, they exited their home and made the trip to the main village. The sun was about to set, so torches had been erected all over the village to provide light. Families stood huddled together as they silently prayed for their loved ones not to be taken away. The Drafted picked anyone from the ages of 18-30. The warriors of the Armada were already stationed around the village. The Armada's warriors were outfitted in shinning red armor with a black crest of the Armada upon the breastplate of each warrior. They held Essence Halberds, weapons that looked normal enough, but were capable of channeling the natural energy that flowed through the world itself and then directing it in lethal forms of destruction. The Commander was outfitted in black armor with red upon the breastplate, depicting the crest of the Armada. He and a troupe of warriors moved from family to family, taking people here and their to the shock and sadness of their respective families. Then just a short ways away from Jaymes' family, the Commander grabbed the wrist of a young woman and pried her away from her weeping and screaming mother. Her father cried out, and lunged forward, striking the Commander in the face. The move was so unexpected that no one reacted immediately. Then the Commander spat blood to the ground from his injured lip. "You dare strike me?! A peasant worth less than dirt dares to strike someone of noble birth and cause?" The Commander shouted, and quicker then the eye could follow, struck out with a hand. The man's head swung to the side and an audible crack resonated through the village as the man fell to the ground, dead. The Commander turned to the men behind him and motioned with his head before stepping away. Two men stepped forward and leveled their halberds at the mother and daughter, both sobbing at the death of their loved one. The blades of the weapons glowed bright red for a moment as energy charged up with a faint hum. Then the red light exploded forward. Time seemed to slow down as Jaymes ran forward. He had never been one to accept the Armada, or the people that served the High Lord. He had tried to rally the people to fight back, but had failed every time. Every time the Draft had happened he had to look away and cover his ears to avoid doing something stupid. He recalled what his mother had asked him one day after a failed attempt to gain support. "Why do you keep doing this to yourself? This is how the world is. There is no hope, nothing can change that." Jaymes had never accepted that notion. Not once had be felt like this was how life was meant to be. His response had been, "You may have given up, but I haven't. With every breath I take, I will work towards a day our pain ends for good. I have hope, and I will save them. I will save everyone." Jaymes had said, his heart and soul vowing to return the world to what it was before. With that thought in his mind and his soul burning, Jaymes ran out in front of the mother and daughter, using his body to shield them. That was when something inside his soul seemed to click and fire exploded within his body. Blue light erupted from his skin even as the red energy continued to blaze towards him.
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The world of Xaedar is upon the brink of complete darkness. The people live in fear as a ruthless conqueror works to secure his reign over all things. Any and all resistances have been destroyed, no matter how minute they may be. All hope for a better future has been extinguished, except for that of a young man's. He will be the light in the darkness. Will he be able to end the fear and pain, or will he fail? This is his story. The cool breeze wafting through the woods that surrounded the small cottage his family lived in smelt sweet and revitalizing. Sweat poured from his exposed skin as he worked with his sword against the wooden dummy he had constructed to practice against. The wood was scarred and chipped immensely, evidence of Jaymes' dedication to his training. The sun had sunk to only a few hands breath from the horizon, yet Jaymes continued to practice. The <em>thwack</em> of his sword striking the wood pounded out a savage music to his ears. The shrill cry of his mother rang out from his house, "Jaymes, its time for supper! Now!" Jaymes sighed and stabbed the ground with the sword, leaving it rooted where it had been planted as he trotted to the cottage. He was nearly twenty five summers old, yet he still lived with his parents. His father had been injured in their forge and could no longer work. So naturally Jaymes took up the responsibility of ensuring his family had food to eat and a roof over their heads. Upon entering the cottage, his mother looked at him with a serious eye, then grumbled slightly as she handed him a towel to wipe the sweat from his naked torso and face. His family wasn't rich, most of their furniture was wooden, made from the timber around their house. On the dinning table stood a medium pot of steaming soup, a fresh loaf of bread and butter sat next to it. His father was already at the table eating when Jaymes approached and took his seat, followed by his mother. No one spoke as they all ate, when the meal was finished, an awkward silence prevailed until his mother finally said, "The Draft is today. Best find yourself a good shirt." Her striking blue eyes downcast as she studied her empty bowl. His father said nothing in response, likewise engrossed in the empty depths of his bowl. The Draft happened every year, young men and woman were selected from every village to serve the Armada. If there was any resistance at all, families were slaughtered in front of everyone as a reminder they belonged to the High Lord and his empire. Those that were taken were never heard from again. Jaymes hated it all with a passion, and wanted to rage against people for not fighting back. But he knew that the spirits of his people had been broken a long time ago. He could see it in their eyes. Nodding he got up and headed to his tiny room. There wasn't much in the room besides a small dresser and bed. On the walls were shelves that held some of his metalwork. Other than that, it was barren and sad. Jaymes donned a shirt and returned to the main room of the cottage where his parents were waiting. Together without a word, they exited their home and made the trip to the main village. The sun was about to set, so torches had been erected all over the village to provide light. Families stood huddled together as they silently prayed for their loved ones not to be taken away. The Drafted picked anyone from the ages of 18-30. The warriors of the Armada were already stationed around the village. The Armada's warriors were outfitted in shinning red armor with a black crest of the Armada upon the breastplate of each warrior. They held Essence Halberds, weapons that looked normal enough, but were capable of channeling the natural energy that flowed through the world itself and then directing it in lethal forms of destruction. The Commander was outfitted in black armor with red upon the breastplate, depicting the crest of the Armada. He and a troupe of warriors moved from family to family, taking people here and their to the shock and sadness of their respective families. Then just a short ways away from Jaymes' family, the Commander grabbed the wrist of a young woman and pried her away from her weeping and screaming mother. Her father cried out, and lunged forward, striking the Commander in the face. The move was so unexpected that no one reacted immediately. Then the Commander spat blood to the ground from his injured lip. "You dare strike me?! A peasant worth less than dirt dares to strike someone of noble birth and cause?" The Commander shouted, and quicker then the eye could follow, struck out with a hand. The man's head swung to the side and an audible crack resonated through the village as the man fell to the ground, dead. The Commander turned to the men behind him and motioned with his head before stepping away. Two men stepped forward and leveled their halberds at the mother and daughter, both sobbing at the death of their loved one. The blades of the weapons glowed bright red for a moment as energy charged up with a faint hum. Then the red light exploded forward. Time seemed to slow down as Jaymes ran forward. He had never been one to accept the Armada, or the people that served the High Lord. He had tried to rally the people to fight back, but had failed every time. Every time the Draft had happened he had to look away and cover his ears to avoid doing something stupid. He recalled what his mother had asked him one day after a failed attempt to gain support. "Why do you keep doing this to yourself? This is how the world is. There is no hope, nothing can change that." Jaymes had never accepted that notion. Not once had be felt like this was how life was meant to be. His response had been, "You may have given up, but I haven't. With every breath I take, I will work towards a day our pain ends for good. I have hope, and I will save them. I will save everyone." Jaymes had said, his heart and soul vowing to return the world to what it was before. With that thought in his mind and his soul burning, Jaymes ran out in front of the mother and daughter, using his body to shield them. That was when something inside his soul seemed to click and fire exploded within his body. Blue light erupted from his skin even as the red energy continued to blaze towards him.
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