There is ash, just ash everywhere you go. In the sky, the rivers and the roads everything that would show life is burned up. Bells are ringing in the distance, slow and deliberate and synchronised , the bass following it the tenor its melodic padding. It all feels so wrong, once there was a village here, one with great land, singing birds, playing children and a lively community, all quelled by the red heart of weissnacht.

Nobody knows anything about them really, all they know is that it is a powerfull organisation hellbent in indocterning as many people to their cause, and they do that by any means, torture, murder and destruction.

A lone figure is walking through the ash, slowly and without sound, like a ghost nothing is phasing them. The burning bodies, the ruined buildings and the dead trees, nothing is worth a thought to them as they continue their walk. What they are walking too is the church of this area, Hollens Gate, a midway of some sort. Originally belonging to the god Refew god of stone and riches, it has been inverted, all the worshipers and guards killed and hung up as a twisted offering for the new god, the only god. Constructed of marble and smooth stone it sits at 25 feet tall, supported by wood found in the forest of man and blessed by ruby. Commissioned by the King 200 years ago, the construction shows its style by having the seal of the family imprinted on the door of the entrance. The wanderer finally makes it to the bridge that separates the ash to cleanliness. ¨ Disgusting ¨ he says and continues walking until he is stopped, stopped by cloaked figures that brandish swords. ¨ Please , stop where you are ¨ says one of them, there are two in front of him and two behind, surrounded by identical looking figures, perhaps an illusion. The wanderer doesn´t speak, instead he draws his sword and attacks.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

It ´ s a flurry of slashes, like a dance. The hooded attackers fight with grace and skill and the wanderer fights with brute force. The wanderer hits first and drives his blade through the head of the first of the hooded men and pulls up. Then he swings again and cleanly takes the head off the second one, as the head rolls the two hooded ones decided to attack together and swing down, just to be cut in half, like they where made of paper.

Breathless now, the wanderer kneels down and looks at what just happened, and no sooner as he grabs his hilt does he feel the cold steel of an axe being brought down on his shoulder, bloods pours out quickly and his scream is cut short be the next sweep of the axe, as his head falls a small laugh comes from the church and the doors open and the bishop of the place emerges, ¨ maybe in an other life, we may have had the chance to dance, but know its the backup that stops you, may you burn in peace.

.........help them please