Prologue - Crushing Defeat

Greetings to all, for you have stepped on the sacred Land of Ronadel.

The land where the Elves and Orcs roam the ancient moors and forests, a place where beardy and stubbly dwarves forge weapons of war from their fearsome forges. A place where men come seeking wonder and fame, reaching out to the land from mighty empires. Dragons lurk dormant in dark abodes of stories old, with vast and exotic lands abound. Many a kingdom and empire, attempt to grasp the land within their mighty fists, but also come the small travelling bands and factions causing havoc, creating bonds of allegiance and declaring vows of vengeance upon another. But alas, only one can take command to sit high upon the monarchy throne, as this is the chaotic lands of Ronadel.

Within a ravaged and crushed forest the strained breathing of men and women alike, echoed across in all directions accompanied with a heavy drone of warhorses. The meager band of troops reached their destination when the shrill cries of the men pierced the air, overwhelming all other sounds.

Before, a small but proud village sat hidden behind the leaves and lush trees but all that remained were swollen corpses and pillaged homes. Crushed along with the surrounding forest, the village remained vital no more.

Approximately half of the troops slumped into deep depression, as the gradual light from their eyes started to diminish. The others, stared at their fallen comrades with burning hearts and carved the scene into their heads. Their minds, can only be said to be filled with countless horrors and devoid of all happiness, not only does the day of victory bring no further hope, they do not see much value in living anymore.

And the reason behind all of this sadness, was because they were born a human. A human, an indecisive being who naively saw the world in their own colors and drove themselves to near extinction after the start of the world war.

The troops scrutinized the village, unwilling to unmount and throw away their only advantage. Even being well within the current borders of the human kingdom was of no assurance to them, because the borders gave no warmth to the pitiful inhabitants; All races were almost free to roam and wrest away the territorial land from the weak grasps of the current human king.

All soldiers were equipped with leather armour dyed in red, a small iron shield and a rustic shortsword. The leader however, wore a complete set of elegant armour made from silver, and a sheathed golden longsword at her waist.

Her name was Samu Le Henrietta, a Royal Princess of the Humans. Urging her horse away from her band of warriors. Her eyes were filled with anticipation, excitement...but embarrassment was the clincher. As she unsheathed her dagger from the strapped sheath around the leg, bringing it towards her wrist armour that was already covered in countless marks. Samu scraped onto the wrist armour with her dagger slowly, and carved another ‘T’.

The Princess looked at her wrist armour, exposing her eyes which was filled with anguish as she exclaimed to the rotting and maimed forest:

“This is the last one you will ever get!”

Her fierce declaration brought the cowardly soldiers out from their trances of hopelessness, as they turned to look at their leader with pitiful eyes. Hearing the leader declare the same statement for the tenth time it, only made their weak hearts that much weaker. And for the tenth time once more, their hearts were filled with the endless desire to make sure that once and for all, the statement does not go unheard again.

Their backs straightened and their eyes were filled with conviction as they watched their leader, afraid to look elsewhere. Since that would only garner a sight filled with death, blood, and grief.

Silence permeated the lifeless forest, as the troops calmed their hearts…

Calm breathing and the sounds of sticks and leaves crunching under the forceful weight of a being, resounded throughout the forest to the Princess. A sound so familiar to anyone that has fought a war. The sound of death.

The heads of the troops subconsciously turned to look in the direction of the noise, as their hearts started to pump in anticipation of battle. Samu, nudged her horse and galloped into the direction of danger with maddening disregard for any form of the word safety.

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Her horse quickly reached the point of interest, and the surroundings started to darken from a sudden weather change. Rain started to fall, hitting the dense foliage of the forest which made the drops of rain that much louder and heavier.

All around Samu, decapitated heads were strewn about, stuck on wooden poles crying out in fear and lamentation. A sight that Samu has not yet seen in her life; one filled with combat training from her swordmaster, and meticulous studying by the castle steward. Her life as a Princess has not seen much, as the aftermath of a battle is only a light scene when compared to the one in front of her eyes.

Like a neat graveyard, the blood dyed area in the forest of the beheaded.

Samu looked around her, in hopes of finding an area without the desolation, but:

“Hiii...”

Her stuttering words only made her seem weaker than she truly was, as a tear slowly escaped from her reddening eyes and streamed down her face. Unbeknownst to her, the whole band of nobodies had caught in the act, as they had already surrounded the place long ago…

A light snore occupied the quiet silence of the horses and men, as they looked upon the spiked heads with a dying hope in their hearts. Even if they wished to do something, what could they do against the ones that tainted their homes in blood. As the savages liked to play with the innocent before finishing them off cruelly. They currently stood no chance against the Demonic Empire, and it had been said before that even the Orcish brutes -who were being exterminated by the Demons- were able easily trample the Orcs.

That insignificant grunt went unheard...

Within the center of the spiked roses, a horned demon laid on the floor. His dark complexion coupled with his slender and gothic leather armour, camouflaged him completely into his surroundings to the point where only his protruding red horn gave a slight atmosphere to his appearance. Dull green eyes and the devilish grin of an assassin, truly emphasised the role he played in a battle. The baiter.

The demon amidst desecrated corpses, raised his hand in a captivating manner. His hand instantly caught the attention of all the troops as they became alarmed and forced their horses back, but Samu progressed forward at a sickening speed.

Her hand whistled to her waist and then outstretched towards the dyed ground, as her horse broke through countless pikes and trudged onto a sea of blood. The momentum continued without regard for the horse's balance, and she dipped forwards to be forced to dismount by the horse’s rear. Samu with her weapon drawn was launched forward by the horse’s unexpected movement making her approach the dark figure who stood up at an astonishing speed.

Samu’s mind reeled from the force of impact after falling to the floor, her face scrunched up in anger because of her horse’s mishap...

When the band of troops saw the shape of their leader, they instantly began to move in assistance. However, before they could even take a breath, a resolute and calm voice spoke out:

“Move, she’s dead. Speak, she’s dead...”

The voice commanded as his foot fell on top of the fallen Samu’s head, forcing her to gurgle the bloodied flora into her lungs. Hesitation flashed throughout the band of troops, as they witnessed their leader trampled into the ground like trash.

Rain continued to fall down...but the skies were clearing.

The horned demon made his demands, and his veins continued to circulate the demon blood within. From only a snap of the demon’s fingers, the band of troops were no more. The sudden and hidden attack from all sides collected were beyond comprehension of the meager fresh-recruits, as they died in silence together with their horses, when a single step away from conflict became a dream in their end.

Samu Le Henrietta’s Band falls at the hands of the Hidden Sovereign