Anger is a relative thing. It is not inherently good nor is it evil. Just a means to an end. A burning fire that drives us beyond our greatest limitations. A tool to be used; one that must not be abused...

Yet, its fury drives me constantly. My only reason to continue this pathetic life is to sate its most unending hunger; to finally get vengeance. Vengeance for my most beloved brother. And HE, the hypocrite, will one day fall to the point of my sharpened spear! Eviscerating him beyond any recognition!

My pure wrath is not a sin; no it is righteous. An eye for an eye, a life for a life, and his is the cost of justice. Clenching his fist until blood seeped from between his fingers, he closed his eyes. Flashes of memories long past. Fragments of who his brother was passed his mind's eye.

"Undiel," called out a booming voice. Jumping in fright, Undiel looked around with wide eyes, only to find that most obnoxious Bearkin walking towards him.

Speaking before that ball of excitement exploded on him, pulling him into its most disgusting clutches,

"Troyis, I am not in the mood for your jubilance. Leave me alone as I wallow in grief."

Looking away, he stared at the moonless night sky. Its darkness, similar to the hole of perpetual shade in his heart. Only to be interrupted by a massive arm literally thrown around his shoulder, staggering him.

Face to face with him, Troyis beamed at the frowning Undiel. His enormous smile was blinding to the morose and anger filled Undiel.

"Ya need ta get out ov this funk, ma Monke' friend! Smile and laugh a' the world; its pathetic attempt to drag ous down 'ave failed so far, 'avent it."

"I am not a MONKEY! Don't insult me by comparing my more primitive kin to me!"

Opposite of him, Undiel's face was darkness incarnate. His anger was flashing, muscle tightening and eyebrows twitching. Yet, the pure exuberance, that irritating Bearkin exuded, outshined him.

'Maybe I can give a small smile to get Troyis to run off somewhere. Hmm, I better not, I would get swept away like last time! He had me drinking and dancing for hours; completely forgetting my grief. Something that I can not, in good conscience, do.'

"Ya, Ya, I ge' it. The other two er wai'ing for us at the center of camp. Jack is bringin 'is cards out!" Laughing boisterously, he grabbed Undiel's right arm and dragged him away from his lonely perch.

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Far Far Away, Near the Dark Orcish Borders -

Here, in a dark and damp cave within a labyrinth, sat two. Hidden from the world. Plotting and scheming; each for a purpose. Goals twisted in evil ways.

A seemingly dark union bent on the destruction of good…

Then again, history is but the narrative of the winners of war. Demonized and made into heartless monsters, the other side must face this prejudice without recourse. All actions taken, proof of their evil. And all time made in peace, preparation for an invasion…

Here sat two, goals starkly different. The first, a king. Bent on his invasion; determined to succeed in his war. Yet, he was peaceful at heart. He did not wish this on the world or his own. No, it was the product of a circumstance. As he gathered his soldiers, his heart began to crack. His kind soul cried when he ordered his armies across the sea. But no tears fell from his pleading eyes. Begging for release from their emotionless prison.

His people needed this. His entire race's survival depended on this. A war for plains of grass, forests covered with trees, and mountains filled with treasures. A war of hope. As the King of the kingdom of Telfun, he was duty-bound to find a peaceful land for his people; for the women, the elderly, and the children.

Without it, they could not continue their holy pursuit. They could not keep the legions from the abyss from swarming into this world.

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This one, a king; his name was Rejus VI.

The other, a greedy man. His mountains of gold did not satisfy him. His duchy did not make him content. No, they made him desire more. Desperate to get what he had not.

He covered himself in cover after cover; to hide who he truly is. To the outside world, he was a righteous man. One who reminded others of the gods and how they blessed him beyond measure. Only a few have ever removed the curtains he hid behind.

Plotting and scheming, it was all he ever did. And though he had become a master at its most intricate art, one goal eluded him. For nearly three decades he tried, yet, that man somehow always got away unscathed.

This one, a duke; his name was Dendar Orbes.

"You have not fulfilled your promises, duke. My people have a saying: Promises made, Promises not kept, bring, they do, the reaper of your soul. My intelligence informs me the Healer is still with the General?" Spoke the king in a deep baritone voice. Speaking closer to a rumble than actual words.

"He has more clout with the king than I had expected, King of the Telfun. Using many old favors, all I could have done was keep him within our range. The valley nestled within mountains on royal land that he sought was deprived of him. Sent to the edges of my duchy on the premise that your armies might break through the battlefront." Although his failure to separate the two was quite obvious, his self-confidence was so high he still managed to sound smug with success.

"Your reassurances fall on deaf ears. We still remember that dark day." Turning his head away, it was as if he could see his people return from battle, broken. Tornados of fire, endless spikes of earth, and warriors capable of slaughtering thousands was what the few that came back spoke of. Though his heart had left with the first ships of his armies so many years ago, he had still felt a grasping pain to see so many of his people die and still fail.

Speaking animatedly, the duke responded,

"Worry not, this time I have schemed a perfect plan. One of his own, I have planted the seeds of anger, vengeance, and doubt within his mind. He carries a magic stone that is connected to its other pair. The mercenaries I have sent this time will definitely send him to his grave. His entourage of warriors will not survive against them, for the corrupted one will plant a poison within their food the night before the attack."

Smirking, he looked at the king, only to find a disappointed face. As if his plan was not good enough.

"Although you truly are a master of plotting, your greatest weakness rears its ugly head once more. You've put all of your reliance on a single human. What if he is caught beforehand? Sickness debilitates him? Or even worse, he has a change of heart, telling them of your pitiful plan."

Rustling with indignation, Dendar gripped the armrest of his chair until his knuckles whitened, Snarling, he said,

"He will not fail! I have given him false proof that the General was the cause of his brother's death. There is no one with them that can prove it otherwise."

Shaking his head, the king simply laughed at Dendar. Rebuking him was simply to easy, then again, you can't compare a duke with a king.

"You still don't get it, do you? If you were a general within my army, you would have been executed already for incompetence! You do not take everything into consideration. How sure are you that the master healer will not notice the poison affecting them all? Or that another group intervenes, saving them from your mercenaries."

Noticing that the Duke yet again had another rebuttal, he raised his hand demanding silence from the fool before him. Greedy men will always fall from the heights they build themselves up to. Never content with what they have. Releasing his domineering aura, he lowered his hand slowly as he watched the duke create a barrier of mana to lessen the pressure released by the king. For all his shortcomings, the Duke was still a powerful mage. One of the strongest in the Seven Duchies; without it, his family would have fallen from their throne many years ago.

"Enough! I wish not to hear your trifling plans. Prepare the battlefront for our advance, Duke. We will surround the border city he was sent to with a horde beyond the numbers we have ever fielded in this war. Make sure you take everything into consideration. For if you fail me again, then, I personally, will come for your head."

Having said his piece, the king stood. Walking away with the massive and most intricate armor the duke has ever seen. Within a few steps, his figure began to fade into the darkness.

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Dendar sat in his chair, sweat crawling down his back. The overbearing aura the king had released slowly faded away with the king as he faded into the Dark Mist. Known as a master of the Darkness, King Rejus VI, was the most powerful man he had ever met; matching even the Royal Duke himself.

But, to him, bearing this was well worth its price.

Everything the duke spent, the King would pay him back with a seven-point 5 percent interest rate. This war was the most profitable venture he had ever embarked on. Now all he has to do was somehow end the war in negotiations before the king found a reason to eliminate him. If only Harold Winsten would just keel over and die for him. It would make everything so much easier on everybody. Especially his burning soul.

Oh, he would never forgive him! He would always remember the thief of his beating heart. The one who took Maria's love away from him…

He would have his revenge, even if it took him a lifetime!