"Tales all originate somewhere."

- Unknown

"The bedtime stories were once the very thing people feared or cried over."

- Unknown

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Storms rocked the sky above the cold tower. Lightning cracked and shook the ground giving light into the dark cells beyond the present torchlight. Beyond the howling of winds and the crackle of lightning, the sole sounds of the tower were heavy boots in slow deliberate steps and the snapping of the eerie blue flame. Keys jingled as a figure walked down the winding corridor, as it did the figure cast in the light held by the lantern into dark cells were huddled figures filled nearly each. Upon an initial glance, one would assume those huddled figures were corpses rotting ever slowly, but they were very much alive. Kept alive by ancient magic, and watched by the towers keeper. In this tower lay some of the greatest criminals of an age long passed, judged to forever starve, judged to never receive the sweet embrace and salvation of death. In this ragged black stone tower, beyond the iron cast cell doors, there stood only two other doors in the hundred foot tall tower. The first being the sealed door leading into the base of the tower, and the other being at the very top of the tower. The most dangerous criminal of this forgotten age.

Known by many names. The slaver, the beggar, the shadow walker, the soul thief, king killer, divine slayer, demon king, the bloody king, and so on and so on. Yes, upon the top of this dark tower sat a being covered from head to toe in lock and chains restricting movement rendering the prisoner trapped in the webbed cage of iron. One might question the necessity of such bonds upon one being, but if they question such they must not understand the might this monster wields.

The lone keeper of the tower climbed to the top, opening up the cell door casting blue light into the room. The chains shook lightly in the breeze the eternally permeated the tower, the main grouping around the prisoner rising and falling, signaling life within still held strong. Green eyes stared from a black helm at the form before approaching, a metal hand grabbed one of the various chains and it began to glow. Low moans of pain came from within the metal bonds as every single chain glowed with silver and violet shades. After several moments, a gray light went from the chains to the floor coloring the dark tower silver and the light went out in the chains. The keeper then promptly left the room, its daily duty fulfilled and the tower recharged.

As soon as the door to the cell closed, laughter came muffled from the bonds. It was a laugh that was hoarse like sandpaper, lasting only mere moments before falling out into nothingness, though it was the first vocal proof of life in a very, very long time from any creature within the stone walls. The keeper, however, continued on down the stairs, either not registering the sound or simply ignoring it. Whatever it was the prisoner found funny likely never would be clear, for only two were present to hear it.

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Fear and terror. He knew his fate from the whispers and the cries, but hearing and seeing bear two different results. He realized this all too well as his jaw slackened and he whimpered out watching limbs fly to-and-fro from massive hands. He did not hear anything but the sound of his own heart as he stumbled onto the ground, he looked to see what he fell on, finding a finger inside a decapitated heads mouth, he screamed and wet himself as he realized he laid upon some of the strewn about limbs, his eyes twitched as he turned to face his nightmare, realizing it was upon him. He cried out to his mother, his father, his gods above. He cried to anything that would save him from his current fate. He looked at the giant cruel yet indifferent gray eyes. The massive figure stood before the terrified dwarf fist raised. He closed his eyes, as the whooshing of air came, and his world ended. Then came the crowd's cheers.

The hill giantess gave labored breaths as her body seemingly rose and fell with fatigue. For three days she had been forced into fight after fight. Already the bastard fight master was preparing more opponents. She raised her head slightly, just enough to see where the sun stood in the sky. Just past its zenith, she clicked her tongue considering that at the rate this was going her body would give out from pure fatigue. More and more the reasons she needed to escape quickly grew. She was tired from these months of honorless combat. None of these opponents, regardless of numbers, were her equal or worthy of combat against her. Yet the gap would likely be closed due to the sheer level of stamina levels going into the fight. In the corner of her left eye, she could see her 'master' smiling gleefully as he looked from the metal gates to the cages. She turned her gaze to the various other gates to where the next unfortunates led to slaughter would come. She was ready for it, no point expecting her slaughtering to end so soon for the ever thirsting crowds.

Already she could smell the fear reeking from the gates far before the announcer spoke, let alone the rise of the gates. They came out in twos and threes, twenty-six in total led like pigs, some clearly shaking yet weapons still poised in the slim hope of survival to the next dawn. Easily she realized the cycle in which they were trapped soon after she was taken here. The hill giantess sighed and as soon as the horn resounded she took over, already one unfortunate soul squashed underfoot.

Elsewhere stood the fight master counting his newly acquired coin in front of the gate as he discussed business with a foul smelling dwarf. Their words were the hushed whispers of the underbelly of the dwarven lands. Between them spoke ill and dark contract of planning and plotting like so many others so they could acquire more ill-gotten wealth and corrupt power not unlike those a kingdom of man was currently silently becoming embroidered with. Across various lands dark tidings were being cast as such balance must exist. To light there is cast a shadow, and though the light was fleeting, the shadow doth call upon its soldiers to spread its will.

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Karl stood upon a rooftop, a mysterious cloak billowing slowly in a windless night as his eyes scanned the streets below. The street was dead as a doornail, not even plague rats scurried about upon this night. Mentally he cursed Drik as best a close friend would, but the kings authority is undeniable. Power that had long been sealed coursed through his veins, such that he hadn't felt in some time. He could easily tell his might silently grew beneath the seal and part of feared his ever growing strength, fearful of such that could consume his will. Though such was the brand of Lurcrox. He was a forced inheritor of the fallen gods power. Part of him always found it strange he of all people was the champion of the embodiment of corruption and anarchy, though he could see the value in him as the champion. Should he fall to Lurcrox and his guile he could destroy an entire kingdom from the inside and leave the blame on its ruler, and his only friend. He unconsciously shuddered at the thought, once more thankful for the seal Drik graced him with.

In a distant street corner he saw movement and crept closer to the edge of the roof listening intently.

"Oh say Rih, do ya think that broad would, hic, run away with me?"

"Oh yes, she'd run off with ya, run off with ya money." The two obviously drunk men wobbled down the street laughing in their drunken stupor, nearly toppling over several times before turning around a corner. Karl inwardly grumbled, their intel was certain they would be moving, yet there was no sign or sound of them

He was snapped from his thoughts as a stone skipped across the ground, obviously tossed. His eyes darted to the direction from which it came, and just as he reached it he swung a fist backwards catching an unsuspecting assailant in an attempt on his life. Easily the cloaked figure brushed off the swing with a basic sidestep, though Karl’s swing was more of a warning than an actual punch.

The two stared at each other in silence save the light waving of Karl's cloak. The cloaked figure laughed causing Karl to narrow his eyes irritated as his ears were greeted by broken glass. The figure tossed something towards Karl, then turning to flee, to which he grabbed from the air after ascertaining his assassin left looked at it. It was a wooden card with a specific symbol. He gritted his teeth and looked off to the direction in which the figure fled, showing only dark rooftops to his heightened senses, and a distant glass breaking laughter in the distance.

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The sound of glass breaking permeated the room, followed closely by an irritated groan and a loud thump of head meeting desk. Reshiram began casting the spell called incinerate but with held the moment his eyes met a certain skeletons orbs. Once again the clumsy skeleton broke the same vase that kept having to he repaired at least seventy-two times average per day. He honestly didn't know why he didn't just get rid of it at this point, though he was slightly worried what would be the next unfortunate object of this skeletons touch.

The door to the study opened up, in stepping Garius with, as usual, more papers. "Let me guess, more desperate Warlords wanting to consolidate power?"

Garius gave a secretive smile and simply handed the documents to Reshiram who eyed them intrigued by Garius's silent response. Silence overcame the room as Reshiram became very invested in reading them. After several minutes he set down the stack and pondered, his left hand cupping his chin while the other tapped the desk "How credible is this information?"

"It was sent by him, milord."

"You're certain?" Reshiram looked to the skeleton for a moment considering things "Why has he become active suddenly after all these centuries? I'm guessing he had one of them deliver it? Don't answer, I know he did. I don't know whether to be glad or seriously worried. If he interferes with the war, I will have no choice but to as well to keep balance."

Garius kept silent as Reshiram kept thinking out loud, a habit that has lasted millennia. "What do I respond with?"

"Nothing, we watch to see what he shall do, these documents are nothing more than paying an old debt to me, I fear it is so anything he does is done so without fear of my direct interference with the reason of claiming such debt. Or, it could be simply to alert me of his upcoming return. Regardless, we watch and wait. I have lasted the longest for a reason and such waiting is the cause." The skeleton used a shaky version of the repair spell it was taught, ultimately failing causing the nearly fixed vase to crumble. "Though it forces my hand in moving certain things faster than intended to clear up for others. Make the preparations for the circle."

"If that is your will, it shall be done." Garius bowed and left the room leaving Reshiram to watch the skeleton continue to fail to fix the vase, like watching a house of cards fall apart.

Very curious, for a lot of things really.