The Great War.

[Guest makieo]

Its night, the two moons of Draia are just barely visible, peeking out from behind a cloudy sky. In the dark and foggy air, the only visible light that can be seen through the dark and twisted vegetation of the autumn forest, is that of a campfire in the distance. A strange creature covered in shadow, stealthily creeps forwards towards the distant light of the camp fire. Two more of these odd and mysterious creatures emerge from the underbrush moving towards the light of the campfire as if they were entranced.

Just a few hundred yards way, a unit of elves, numbering no more than ten, sit around the campfire. These elves have chosen to serve Mortos the god of Death and Destruction as soldiers of their on free will, or so Mortos would have you believe. Judging from the glowing marks on their forearms that signify their eternal bond, service and curse to Mortos, they are no more then slaves. These slaves were not captured or bought, they were created by magic for the sole purpose of fighting for Mortos in the great war between the gods.

Even though the elves are tired and less than a days hike to the temple of Mortos, their only safe haven, danger is always near. They must stay awake through the night to protect themselves from the slaves of the other gods. They sit around the campfire and speak of what they know, the only thing they know, combat.

Erebonos the leader of the unit is tall and broad. His once handsome face is now scarred from years of combat and his bright blue eyes have grown gray from witnessing countless horrors done in the name of these so called gods. He is scalding Makieo, a new ¨recruit¨ who panicked and ran during one of the days many engagements.

¨I should have killed you myself, you are useless Makieo, and make no mistake if you run away again I ..¨ Erebonos is interrupted mid-sentence when an explosion rips the camp apart. The hot, blinding, white light of the explosion lights up the forest as if it were day, revealing the elves attackers. The attackers appear human except for the horns protruding from their skulls and the scales that cover their skin. They are Draegoni, a creation of powerful magic that combined human and dragon resulting in a creature with a horrifying potential for magic.

Erebonos and all of the other elves in his unit are eternal, they never really die. They are born again into the enslavement of their god, just to endure the torment and pain of death.

As Erebonos takes his last breath he knows something is wrong. His life flashes through his mind accompanied by great sorrow, he has never experienced this before. As the life in the elves slowly fades so does the once bright symbol of their enslavement etched on their forearms. The elves will not be born into enslavement ever again.

Thousands of years pass and the great war between the gods slowly fades and peace returns to Draia. The gods become dormant as if waiting for a time when they can once again assert their will upon the races.

A strong easterly wind blows across Isla Prima's warm summer night as Makieo awakes to find himself lying naked in forest. “Where am I? How did I get..” Makieo's thoughts are interrupted as a searing pain explodes into his mind. His left forearm is on fire, a strange symbol burns with a red intensity and then slow begins to fade, the pain subsides. Makieo falls in and out of consciousness barely aware of his surroundings.

“Over here! I found another one!” Yells a young man. His facial features are shrouded by the night but he is tall and slender.

“Where are you Eteri?” Calls another voice.

“Over here.” Called back Eteri.

A man breaks through the underbrush surrounding the clearing where Eteri is standing. Eteri is looking cautiously at the strange elf lying unconscious on the ground.

 

 

“Thats the third one tonight alone, where do they all come from? Well, don't just stand there, lets take him back to the house.” Says Johan, Eteris father.

In the vast nothingness of the universe something stirs. It has come time once again for the gods to ignite their conflict and start their bloody war all over again. Their slaves have returned.

 

I was reading all the great stories on the forums and came up with one of my own, so I decided to post it. Enjoy, and ignore all the grammar/spelling mistakes.