him to bar his way, but every man that hindered his path only fueled his wrath. The captain tore their ranks apart, leaving behind a bloody wake as he chased after the crowds of fleeing bystanders. The berserk captain hacked his way through unarmed men and women, callous of discerning between the two.
‘Remorse and pity were left far behind; nothing now remained but the cold shell of a heart. He worked his way deeper into the city, murdering hundreds in cold blood.
‘He at last arrived at the palace he had once held guard over. One hundred of the finest soldiers of Erias, the Citadel Guard, formed a wall of steel before their captain.
‘The rampaging captain charged toward his former brothers-at-arms, a murderous cry on his lips. The Guards held their ground, confident in their numbers. Their confidence would prove their bane, for they underestimated the strength of their attacker.
‘A fell flame rushed from his blade, ripping flesh from bone and consuming them alive. The flames could not reach all of them however, and the few men left alive threw themselves at him.
‘Soldier after soldier charged foolishly forward, and one by one, he cast them aside. The captain slaughtered all of his former brothers that night, not a hint of guilt to gnaw at his blackened heart. He was far beyond compassion.
‘The captain left behind the butchery and threw the palace doors open. He crossed the threshold and entered into darkness. He fought his way through the palace and soon came to the King’s quarters, bursting into the room. Several men surrounded the bed, guarding their king who was deathly ill.
‘The captain threw forth his hand and sent four of the men flying across the room, falling to the ground in a dead heap. Only two soldiers remained to stand in the way of his revenge.
‘As he approached them, they dropped their swords and turned, jumping through the windows in a shower of glass. They tumbled from the top floor of the palace, their screams soon silenced by the stone below.
‘The satisfied captain turned and approached the King in his bed. The father of Jocelyn, maker of his sorrows, laid sickly pale beneath the sheets. The captain raised his sword.
‘Suddenly, a shout broke out from behind him. He turned and barely blocked a would-be-deathblow. He swung his sword and slit the throat of his attacker.
‘The body fell into the moonlight, revealing the face of his defeated assailant. The captain’s eyes lit up in shock as he knelt beside the body.
‘Jocelyn stared up at him dying. She convulsed and heaved violently, blood spewing across the floor. He cradled her head and watched as she slowly died in his arms. She soon fell still and lay back dead in his hands.
‘He stared for a moment into the face of his love, cradling the bloodied corpse in his arms. He slowly closed her eyes. He stood up and turned from her, his sorrow now buried beneath rage.
‘He stood over the bed and looked at the King a moment. The King slowly opened his eyes and gazed up at his killer. The captain raised his sword, ready to bring it down through the old man’s chest.
‘Before he could end his life, the King’s head fell back and he died. The captain stood in disbelief. He could not find his revenge, to release its hold over him.
‘Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw the King’s only son, Ivandar, enter the bedroom. He came upon a scene of four dead soldiers, his murdered sister, and the man who caused it all, standing over the body of his father.
‘The captain stepped away from the bed, turned his back to the prince, and jumped through the window.
‘Ivandar reached the window in time to watch the captain run off across the courtyard, soon disappearing from view.
‘Thousands of soldiers remained to challenge him, yet none dared, afraid to meet the fate of the hundreds who did. He left Morven, leaving behind him a trail of death.”
Armeth paused to let his words take their full effect. The men sat in
‘Remorse and pity were left far behind; nothing now remained but the cold shell of a heart. He worked his way deeper into the city, murdering hundreds in cold blood.
‘He at last arrived at the palace he had once held guard over. One hundred of the finest soldiers of Erias, the Citadel Guard, formed a wall of steel before their captain.
‘The rampaging captain charged toward his former brothers-at-arms, a murderous cry on his lips. The Guards held their ground, confident in their numbers. Their confidence would prove their bane, for they underestimated the strength of their attacker.
‘A fell flame rushed from his blade, ripping flesh from bone and consuming them alive. The flames could not reach all of them however, and the few men left alive threw themselves at him.
‘Soldier after soldier charged foolishly forward, and one by one, he cast them aside. The captain slaughtered all of his former brothers that night, not a hint of guilt to gnaw at his blackened heart. He was far beyond compassion.
‘The captain left behind the butchery and threw the palace doors open. He crossed the threshold and entered into darkness. He fought his way through the palace and soon came to the King’s quarters, bursting into the room. Several men surrounded the bed, guarding their king who was deathly ill.
‘The captain threw forth his hand and sent four of the men flying across the room, falling to the ground in a dead heap. Only two soldiers remained to stand in the way of his revenge.
‘As he approached them, they dropped their swords and turned, jumping through the windows in a shower of glass. They tumbled from the top floor of the palace, their screams soon silenced by the stone below.
‘The satisfied captain turned and approached the King in his bed. The father of Jocelyn, maker of his sorrows, laid sickly pale beneath the sheets. The captain raised his sword.
‘Suddenly, a shout broke out from behind him. He turned and barely blocked a would-be-deathblow. He swung his sword and slit the throat of his attacker.
‘The body fell into the moonlight, revealing the face of his defeated assailant. The captain’s eyes lit up in shock as he knelt beside the body.
‘Jocelyn stared up at him dying. She convulsed and heaved violently, blood spewing across the floor. He cradled her head and watched as she slowly died in his arms. She soon fell still and lay back dead in his hands.
‘He stared for a moment into the face of his love, cradling the bloodied corpse in his arms. He slowly closed her eyes. He stood up and turned from her, his sorrow now buried beneath rage.
‘He stood over the bed and looked at the King a moment. The King slowly opened his eyes and gazed up at his killer. The captain raised his sword, ready to bring it down through the old man’s chest.
‘Before he could end his life, the King’s head fell back and he died. The captain stood in disbelief. He could not find his revenge, to release its hold over him.
‘Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw the King’s only son, Ivandar, enter the bedroom. He came upon a scene of four dead soldiers, his murdered sister, and the man who caused it all, standing over the body of his father.
‘The captain stepped away from the bed, turned his back to the prince, and jumped through the window.
‘Ivandar reached the window in time to watch the captain run off across the courtyard, soon disappearing from view.
‘Thousands of soldiers remained to challenge him, yet none dared, afraid to meet the fate of the hundreds who did. He left Morven, leaving behind him a trail of death.”
Armeth paused to let his words take their full effect. The men sat in
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