Deviant Blood

DB1

It had been said they were monsters. Beasts that even the gods couldn’t tame, but that wasn’t the case. Many other names such as Blood rogue, Immortals and unquenchable Warriors had been bestowed upon them. Their hunger for blood seemed never ending, yet somehow the battles were swift.

Able to wield weapons of various sorts, these beings seemed to bestow more than just a taste for killing. Viking bloodlines were another theory as to why they were undefeated, though no one had any proof. The only proof one had was what they saw with their own eyes, which proved to be a challenge in its own right.

Never showing for events or gatherings, the warriors who granted their blades to the king of the Roman empire. Fairly new to the world of leadership, he’d made a pact with the warriors in hopes of guaranteeing himself a long rein. Many battles for his rich lands and plentiful fishing spots were in no shortage. But once the call for the warriors to come to aid, and the fight seemed not nearly as grave.

The queen had been out only a handful of times to greet the warriors in thanks to saving their lands. She was with child, soon give birth anytime. New traveled fast throughout the great city. So far in fact it was soon talk amongst the warriors. A higher price would be had for keeping the little babe safe from all who wanted an heir to the throne.

Like predicted a war broke out. The neighboring kingdom had seeked a way to best the mighty king, only to meet the fatal blow of both blade and ax. One warrior whom all looked up to stained his double axes in lesser mens blood. Dark hair held to matching features, while towering over most of his own brotherin.

His real name had been lost in the sands of time, while being replaced with a simple yet imposing one. War...simple yet effective. Most, if not all men knew him without even a whisper to be had. Bearing a silver tattoo down his left forearm, its loops resembling celtic knots while still functioning as a reminder to all who were lucky enough to view its magnificent detail.

Born for fighting, War had seen just about all that there was on a battlefield. Stained clothes were no more distasteful than the blood that dripped from his battle axes. The distant smells of burning ash, a once unpleasant smell was now a welcomed one. His brethren were good at fighting, so good infact he sometimes felt as though his strengths weren’t needed.

Never did he think such a turn of events would occur in such a short time frame.

From the highest point of his kingdom, the Lord himself watched the battle below play out. Nothing more than a life sized chess game to him. He watched as the neighboring warriors were no match for the men he trusted. Men who weren’t even men, but immortal beasts.

They had no regard for showing up to any of his events, no courtesy towards him or his beloved. He didn’t think for a second they’d turn on him, especially now that his lovely wife had bestowed a child to take his place some day. The child was a girl, not the best fit for ruling. But he could find her a suitable male who would take the throne.

His hand rose, lifting the chalice to his lips. Red stain from his wine smeared parted lips, when he thought of a very interesting plan. Instead of waiting for his so called alliance with the beasts to run out, he could strike before they were any the wiser. That of my enemy is my friend, he thought silently.

He chuckled with an air of darkness. By using this battle he could help his attackers, thereby confusing them while getting the upper hand on those beings with no souls. He set his plan into motion, alerting his knights of what was to be had. They seemed worried, but orders were carried out never the less.

Mounted horses, guards wielding swords, axes and bows lined in formation. They were being yelled at by a leader, orders were being given.

“Kill all the beasts, leave none alive!” Some looked to their comrades waiting for answers that would never come. Their worried eyes did little to sway they lords choice. He wanted them dead. To kill such power, to overcome it would be his finest hour. No one would dare threaten his kingdom with the knowing of this.

They charged out of the kingdom in full fury. Horses screamed out along with their riders, we spears pointed towards the enemies. At first the warriors who thought they had nothing to fear from the large numbers headed their way weapons in hand, but it was soon clear just whose side they were fighting for.

War watched as the point of a spear pushed through a dear friends armor. It rendered his breathless with wide eyes before crashing to the ground, where many he had just slain in order to protect a man they all thought was allied to them.

Confusion didn’t last long, as War used a skill unknown to the lords ears. A wave length, or type of telekinesis was how he spoke to his comrades. They seemed to growl at the growing numbers against them. Grinding teeth they pushed on, killing as many as they could.

The battle raged. Screams of both victory and death echoed through the trees. War lifted his head, gazing at a high window of the kingdom. A pair of eyes thinned upon him. With his left hand War rose it towards the window, pointing his axe at the man who swore to keep a broken promise. With a fleeting look War and his comrades vanished from sight, leaving the dead and weak for the lord to tend to.