contemplation, attempting to drink in every word.
“Why did he kill her?” Aaron asked; the first to recover from the narrative.
The mercenary shook his head and replied, “He did not mean to, I’m sure if he had known it was her he would have stayed his hand. If he had known it was her…then maybe this war would have been avoided. But alas, who knows how things could have been…” His voice trailed off as he finished speaking.
“Why didn’t he kill Ivandar?” Silas asked.
Armeth smirked at this, “Yes, you would think he would have. Yet he did not, and this simple action puzzles me immensely. I think maybe there was a small sliver of pity left in his callous heart.”
“Earlier you spoke of a sword given to him?” Cain asked, “What is that about?”
“Ah, Ceerocai,” Armeth replied, “perhaps the greatest legend of all. That is a story for another time, my friend.
Nevertheless, the story of Abaddon is not over yet, for this was just the beginning.
‘The captain escaped through the wilderness, avoiding the wrath of the Erias army. He fled into the icy wastes of what is now Andred and stopped running, and began working.
‘No one knows what drove him to do what he did next, but what he did is truly unimaginable. The rogue captain crossed back over the borders into Erias and invaded several small towns, stealing into their graveyards. He spent many years doing this, stealing the bodies of the long since dead. He soon came to find that his transcendent powers knew no limits. His strength was endless.
‘What he accomplished was beyond anything ever heard of, breathing life back into the long dead, if you could even call it life.
‘He had brought the dead back to the realm of the living, yet their souls were not of their own. He had defiled their minds and contorted every aspect of them into his acerbic will. He had reproduced a false life, a heartless being peering through the eyes of a hollow shell. He called them the Andreds, named after the empire he would soon make for himself.
‘The resurrected dead followed every whim of their master and creator. His sleepless soldiers built a city for him, and as it grew, so too did his territory.
‘Soon his country began to rival that of its neighbors, taking control of the eastern wilds that no one laid claim to. His forges swelled, hungering for the forests’ timbers and sapping the land of its beauty.
‘The terrain slowly morphed from a land of forests and snow, to a land dead and barren, the face of the very earth scarred and pitted with the years of its tainted inhabitants.
‘Abaddon soon sent his creations into Tarsha, terrorizing every country, every village, killing thousands and pillaging every last flake of wheat and trace of gold. In months, Tarsha was severely crippled. The ruler of Andred saw how easy it was to destroy his enemies and soon began to send out his armies, to kill and to slaughter.
‘He eventually gained the title of Abaddon, The Destroyer, for all of Tarsha would soon fall to oblivion. And since then, we have been fighting against him…to little avail.”
Aaron turned to Armeth and asked, “So Abaddon was given his powers? By who? Why?”
Armeth sighed at this. “No one knows, we can only speculate. One day…you will know the truth of it all…but for now, do not worry yourselves with such questions.”
“What about Ivandar?” Aaron inquired again. “What about the rest of the story?”
“You will know the full story soon enough. It is not my place to tell you. This is not story time. I am here to make you realize your importance to Tarsha. You must concern yourselves with the here and now; everything else will fall into place. Abaddon seeks to crush us. We must fight back if we are to survive.
‘At one time, we had an alliance, and we were strong in our unity. But, after years of fighting, we disbanded, and now we are weak against Abaddon’s wrath.
‘If we unite, then we may end this war against Abaddon
“Why did he kill her?” Aaron asked; the first to recover from the narrative.
The mercenary shook his head and replied, “He did not mean to, I’m sure if he had known it was her he would have stayed his hand. If he had known it was her…then maybe this war would have been avoided. But alas, who knows how things could have been…” His voice trailed off as he finished speaking.
“Why didn’t he kill Ivandar?” Silas asked.
Armeth smirked at this, “Yes, you would think he would have. Yet he did not, and this simple action puzzles me immensely. I think maybe there was a small sliver of pity left in his callous heart.”
“Earlier you spoke of a sword given to him?” Cain asked, “What is that about?”
“Ah, Ceerocai,” Armeth replied, “perhaps the greatest legend of all. That is a story for another time, my friend.
Nevertheless, the story of Abaddon is not over yet, for this was just the beginning.
‘The captain escaped through the wilderness, avoiding the wrath of the Erias army. He fled into the icy wastes of what is now Andred and stopped running, and began working.
‘No one knows what drove him to do what he did next, but what he did is truly unimaginable. The rogue captain crossed back over the borders into Erias and invaded several small towns, stealing into their graveyards. He spent many years doing this, stealing the bodies of the long since dead. He soon came to find that his transcendent powers knew no limits. His strength was endless.
‘What he accomplished was beyond anything ever heard of, breathing life back into the long dead, if you could even call it life.
‘He had brought the dead back to the realm of the living, yet their souls were not of their own. He had defiled their minds and contorted every aspect of them into his acerbic will. He had reproduced a false life, a heartless being peering through the eyes of a hollow shell. He called them the Andreds, named after the empire he would soon make for himself.
‘The resurrected dead followed every whim of their master and creator. His sleepless soldiers built a city for him, and as it grew, so too did his territory.
‘Soon his country began to rival that of its neighbors, taking control of the eastern wilds that no one laid claim to. His forges swelled, hungering for the forests’ timbers and sapping the land of its beauty.
‘The terrain slowly morphed from a land of forests and snow, to a land dead and barren, the face of the very earth scarred and pitted with the years of its tainted inhabitants.
‘Abaddon soon sent his creations into Tarsha, terrorizing every country, every village, killing thousands and pillaging every last flake of wheat and trace of gold. In months, Tarsha was severely crippled. The ruler of Andred saw how easy it was to destroy his enemies and soon began to send out his armies, to kill and to slaughter.
‘He eventually gained the title of Abaddon, The Destroyer, for all of Tarsha would soon fall to oblivion. And since then, we have been fighting against him…to little avail.”
Aaron turned to Armeth and asked, “So Abaddon was given his powers? By who? Why?”
Armeth sighed at this. “No one knows, we can only speculate. One day…you will know the truth of it all…but for now, do not worry yourselves with such questions.”
“What about Ivandar?” Aaron inquired again. “What about the rest of the story?”
“You will know the full story soon enough. It is not my place to tell you. This is not story time. I am here to make you realize your importance to Tarsha. You must concern yourselves with the here and now; everything else will fall into place. Abaddon seeks to crush us. We must fight back if we are to survive.
‘At one time, we had an alliance, and we were strong in our unity. But, after years of fighting, we disbanded, and now we are weak against Abaddon’s wrath.
‘If we unite, then we may end this war against Abaddon
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