A man sat at his desk, typing away upon a keyboard full of keys within a dimly lit room. In front of him were a pair of monitors which revealed a classical song native to his world, as well as a piece of paper with which was filled with many letters and numbers. For such a man was considered a Wordsmith within the land, and though he was one of many, his craft stirred many a heart.

It was here that he sat contemplating what came next within that which stirred many a heart and mind. For he was a Storyteller, and enjoyed exploring the nether realms which had reduced his potential readers to a condensed number of a few hundred. Of which was due to the Madness and Chaos he employed with his keystrokes, and those who dared to read his works had to steel their hearts from which the Darkness of the mind lay in wait.

Though, he did employ the use of torches for those who dared to traverse his dark road, there were still many who would often times complain about it not being bright enough, despite knowing the path before them stretched forwards. Greater still were those who embraced the Darkness, tossing away their torches to be engulfed in the Madness within. These craved the death and destructions caused within such stories, and the man would oftentimes grin and laugh with gaiety.

For now, he paused in his tapping away at the keys in order to relieve himself of the liquid which filled his bladder, and upon finishing such a task with the washing of his hands, felt... odd. For it was as though the air had grown heavy all of a sudden, to which he shrugged his shoulders with the belief that it was due to him being tired after a long day. Of which was soon confirmed, as the clock in the lower, right hand corner of the monitors showed the time 1:25 AM. Whereupon he did yawn greatly, then winced as the right side of his jaw sparked with pain.

"Really do need to see my dentist about that," he muttered softly, as the digits of his right hand massaged the area slowly whilst applying pressure, "Will need a hot-pad before going to bed, but let's have a shower first."

Whereupon he did prepare for a long soak in allowing the hot waters to trickle down upon his flesh, but not before frowning at the fat which caused his body to appear larger than what he was comfortable with. However, he did shrug at the sight, knowing full well that it can be removed after a few months of working his body at the gym, and hopped into the shower.

Here, he noted that same feeling as he scrubbed his body with soap, but it felt a little more intensified. 'Odd,' his mind wondered as he peered around the tub which was a barrier between the tiled floor and the water which was released from the shower head above, 'I must be more exhausted than I thought.' Once again, he shrugged his shoulders whilst he resumed his wash and soak within the embrace of the hot waters above.

*****

Within another reality, and upon a world which mirrored the man's own, was one called Terra. Of which contained a variety of races which appeared to have been called into being by a Wordsmith's pen stroke. In that there were Elves, Dwarves, Beastial races, Kindred, and so many others living together. There were even Humans and Demons, but those two races were in a constant conflict with one another due to their own avarice to rule over all.

Upon one part of the world sat the continent of Alivar which was home to most of the Humans, and towards the central part, near a range of mountains sat the city of New Wair. Of which contained within was the ruling monarchs over the race of Humans, and were called King Samiah, Queen Guinevere, and Princess Delilah. Each of whom ruled well enough, but were in a bind. For the forces of one who called himself the Demon Lord had appeared within their lands.

Therefore, the King marshaled his armies and marched them forwards whilst leaving only a thousand strong to protect the city, and no, it was not enough. For once the armies of the Humans were a few days' ride away, did they receive reports of Demons being sighted near the city's farmlands. More so were such lands being torched, the men slaughtered, children enslaved, and the women used to relieve the stresses of those who conquered their lands.

Which led to one of two paths the Queen and Princess could take. Either remain and face these demons with the rest of their might, or flee into the wilderness. The former, being a headstrong woman whose ferocity was only matched by her husband's cunning wit, sought to rouse the rest of the soldiers from their beds. Thus leaving the Princess to flee, and would have opted for that decision, if not for an Elder's suggestion.

This one, though old with a head of snow-white hair which fell around his shoulders, and wore robes of stained blue about his body. Clutched within his right hand was a gnarled staff of oak which spiraled upwards at the handle by approximately forty centimetres. Thus, giving it a height of one hundred and eighty centimetres in total. Within the left, however, was an old book which had been well treated with oils and magicks, which was then presented to the Queen and her daughter within a spacious room where a few people could be received before presenting themselves within the throne room.

"Your majesties," bowed the Elder whilst holding out the book, "Within these passages are the incantations to summon one from another world to save us from the Demon scourge."

"What?" squeaked Delilah, who was of thirteen winters, and was just starting to come into womanhood. Upon her body was a frilled dress of pink and flowered blues sewn into the hem. It was long enough to trail down to her ankles whilst revealing a pair of ruby studded slippers.

Her own features, however, were delicate, but aged. For she had long ago seen the horrors of the world, one that would scar the mind of a child and causing them to grow up far faster than what should be normal. If one were to peer past this hardship, then they would see the lost innocence hiding beneath. One which softened her cheeks to a rosy tint, and kept her lips small. Whereas her eyes broke apart such innocence, as they were as sharp and piercing as a hawk's. Combined with her beak-like nose, many had surmised her legacy was a part of the Avians rather than that of a Human. Which also extended to her hair, as it was kept short and spiked up and out towards the back and was the colour of golden straw.

Of which came mostly from her own mother, who also wore her hair short, but was of shadow-grey in colour, and had the exact same eyes. Though, their colours were different, with the child's being of new grass after the winter months, and Guinevere's of newly smelted bronze. This meant that although she had many aspects of her mother, she also had many more of her father. Thus, none may suspect adultery towards the woman, despite many voices rising to the occasion.

In any case, the woman before the old man wore a long and flowing gown of yellow satin, which showed off her many curves. However, what many believe to be a soft woman would find themselves hard pressed. For her body was covered in taught and wired muscles, as she had learned long ago that the world would not give up its treasures willingly. Therefore, she had trained her body into what it was currently, and held enough of a commanding voice to inspire any and all to rally to her. To say she was mightier than her husband would be an understatement.

Where she was currently was within the centre of the room which had a high back chair of reds and golds. To the left and right of such a chair were identical wicker chairs covered in gold and jewels. Here, she received the book well, and opened it to a marked page whilst the Elder fidgeted somewhat in his spot. For although he had come with the desire to save themselves, he could not act without permission, and the lady queen was one of the hardest to please. This was due to her being skeptical of magicks, and preferred to fight with sword and bow over the chantings of words.

"Mother?" squeaked the princess once more, and tried to peer over her mother's arm to glance at the pages. However, she could not understand what was viewed, as it contained many a spell circle, the formulae needed, as well as the specific chants necessary to summon he or she into their world. Which led to her own head to ache as she tried to follow what was written, and sat back in her own chair.

Queen Guinevere ignored her child, glancing up occasionally to glare at the older man before she returned to the book. However, she was soon through with such an object, and handed it back to the Elder with a sharp tone of, "It says you need at least a full month to prepare everything, and if you hadn't noticed, we don't exactly have the time."

"W-well," he sweated slightly at the accusation, gulping audibly before continuing with, "W-we have a-already p-pre-prepared," and ducked as the woman's face heated greatly with anger, but was quickly released with a sigh.

"Fine. Do what you want, but don't bother me until it is finished, understand?"

"Y-yes, my Lady," he bowed quickly, backing away slowly before fleeing their sharp gazes.

*****

Upon the outskirts of the capital city of New Wair, and within the territories designated to the farmers, was an encampment of two thousand strong Demons. Towards the southern tip of the encampment was a large tent of ten metres in diametre, and within such a thing was a long table of five metres by three. Sitting upon such a table was the map of the surrounding areas with many a figurine standing tall. One such was the row of tents with many a demon upon the farmlands, whilst those representing the queen and princess were within the castle's location.

Surrounding such a table were four beings in red livery, each with a golden symbol stamped into the left side of their necks. Of which were four pairs of crimson orbs trickling downwards, which was a representation of their liege lord called the Demon Lord. Each of these beings ranged from two metres and four in height, whilst having a variety of builds. Such as one was wired and muscular, whereas another was full of muscles which strained against its skin.

Each of these Demons grumbled and argued over the distribution of troops, whilst around them, the air was filled with the screams and cries of mercy from the Humans they had captured and conquered. Such as the women desiring an end as the males of the camp ravished their bodies, the crying of children who called out for their parents as they were branded with hot irons, and the men spitting profanities as their heads rolled away from their bodies. All of this and more was what filled the air within the camp, and these four paid little heed to what occurred outside.

That is, until a shorter Demon of one and a half metres tall dashed inside, huffing and puffing as though it were out of breath. This one wore a shroud of leather armour about its person, and at its waist was a belt containing main a missive of parchment. One of which was pulled from the right hip as it shouted in a higher pitched voice, "General," before handing the parchment to one of the four and ran right back out.

Such an outburst caused the other three to silence themselves as they turned towards the one designated as "General". Of whom was a much older Demon who stood with a hunch as it laid the parchment flat upon the table. Here, the remaining three scurried over in order to view what was written, and upon doing so, grimaced greatly.

"Gentlemen," called out the elderly Demon in a light tone full of mirth, causing the remaining three to return to their places, "It appears we must not bicker any longer. So bring about your soldiers, because we now have to halt this 'Hero Summoning Ritual' as they have called it."

"Hah," snorted the overly buff Demon, "What is one more Human going to do? They can't honestly believe one more cannon fodder will bring about their victory over us."

"Idiot," chimed in the one with wired muscles, slapping the other upside the head with a resounding crack. Which caused the recipient to flinch and rub the back of its head whilst glaring at the offender, "If you paid attention to your studies, you'd know that the last Hero that was summoned slew our Lord's father with relative ease."

"Yeah, but that was an Elf, and it used an arrow to end him," growled the other, who was still rubbing the back of its head, "And did you have to hit me so hard?"

"How else am I going to get you to notice when you've become an idiot again, you idiot?"

"Enough!" roared the fourth member, slamming great and scaled clawed hands upon the table. Of which was so great that the shockwaves knocked over the Humans, but not their camp, "You both are blathering idiots. Now stop your bickering and go prepare your soldiers before I remove your hide to decorate the walls." Upon so saying, the two were tossed out of the large tent, just as the fourth growled, "We march within the hour. Now get!"

*****

During this hour, the Humans had prepared for the summoning of a Hero to deliver them from the Demons. Of which caused many a great Mage and Priest to gather within a worn cathedral next to the monarchy's castle. Here, they tossed out the old and worn chairs and benches in order to paint the ground with many sigils, inscriptions, and spell circles. Many of which surrounded a much grander circle within the centre of the cathedral, as the smaller were designed to have a Mage or priest to chant within.

Upon completion, and a cursory glance to fix anything out of place, the Elder who proposed such a venture to Queen Guinevere took up his position at the northern base of a smaller circle. Where he began a low chant as nineteen others also took up their positions, chanting the same words whilst pooling their energies together, then sending it into the greater spell circle. Of which glowed a fierce vermillion as many of the words that had been etched into the edges alighted from the magicks and energies they absorbed.

*****

Upon another world, however, the man who was a Wordsmith exited his shower, and began to dress as the air became as thick as pea soup. Of which was not created by the steam of the hot water, but it did cause him some concern. For the world around him spun on its axis, and he fell to the ground.

Or, would have if not for the blaringly obvious fact that the ground had vanished and he was now floating in a dark void. Whereupon he heard many voices chanting in a language which was unknown to his ears. The pitches of the voices which spoke such words rose and fell in intervals until they harmonised with one another. Which led to him being pulled towards the never ending darkness of the void, and he heard a soft voice that was neither male, nor female, whispered into his ears.

""

""

""

""

He did not understand what was being spoken, and flinched at the words whilst turning this way and that in order to figure out where the voice came from. However, he quickly deduced that such a voice came from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. For the words themselves did not echo as though spoken from afar, nor were they close to his person. They were, just there and not.

In any case, the man's body stiffened as the unknown voice spoke once again, "." Of which led to him releasing a wordless and soundless scream as something flew into his mind and body. The former felt as though something had painfully removed the top of his skull, and poured forth a torrent of molten metal into his brain pan. Whereas the latter, quite literally, tore out the fat which hid within his body whilst slowly aging it backwards until he was at the approximate age of eighteen years. Upon completion, the something which led to his body's pain pulled out the many foreign objects which laid within him. For he had long ago suffered many a surgery in order to fix his body, and many instruments, such as bolts and staples, were left within him to continue to hold their designated targets together.

As such, these were quickly removed, causing him an insurmountable amount of pain. It was to the point of his mind desiring the sweet release of unconsciousness, but that which had spoken aloud would not allow such an event to occur. Therefore, the man continued to wordlessly scream, for that which was around him was not finished. For it then turned inwards, removing, replacing, and regrowing organ meat, bone, muscle tissue, and the like.

*****

Upon the world of Terra, however, Queen Guinevere was shouting orders to her soldiers and conscripted city folk. The latter were given bows and spear with orders to shoot any Demon who dared to advance upon or fly above the walls. Whereas the former were also given such orders, but were also tasked with giving such people a crash course in how to nock an arrow and how to use their spears.

For upon the fields outside of the city of new Wair was the advancing Demon Army with many a siege tower, ballistae, and catapult within their ranks. Whereupon the latter of the three were quickly loaded up, but held off of firing for a few moments as the army continued to push forward the other two.

"Catapults," growled a nasal-like voice of a Demon, as it raised its short, right arm high. Of which was the signal for the teams to prepare to fire, and that they did by pouring oils upon the stones before alighting them aflame. "Loose," it howled, swinging its arm forwards as the world around them hummed with the thrum of released ropes which held down the bowls of the siege weapons. These then were quickly brought forward, slamming against a thick ridge of wood as they released the flaming stones.

Each of which soared through the air as the weapons were brought back down to be reloaded, howling and roaring before crashing into the walls or houses of stone and wood beyond. Thus resulting in the Humans' screams of pain, horror, and anger, whilst the Demon army howled with glee at their quarry's pain.

These then called out for the ballistae to be prepared and loaded with heavy ropes to allow their iron ladders to be pulled and anchored into the walls. Of which will allow their comrades to climb such ladders and do battle with their foes. Whereas the towers were continued to push as the Humans themselves called upon their magicks, loosing them upon the Demons below just as many a torrent of arrows fell upon them.

The Humans fought with desperation, knowing full well that any chance of reinforcement reaching them would be at least a day away. Of whom also know what would happen if they failed to defend their beloved city. For the screams of the women, the suffering of children, and the cries of the men within the farmlands had drifted over the city by way of magick since their conquest. This was used to reduce their morale, and had succeeded in some aspects.

That is, until the appearance of their queen appeared before them. Of whom wore full plate armour of silver and red, behind her were eight hundred of her personal army. However, they numbered as one thousand, which meant the remaining two hundred were left within the castle proper in order to protect the princess and something else.

"We have found a way to win this war," she called out to each and every last one of them, which led to many to raise up their heads with eyes full of hope, "The castle Mages and Priests are summoning into this world, a Hero to deliver us from the scourge that is the Demon Lord, but we must make haste and protect them. For if the Demons manage to reach them, then all is lost.

"So up, good citizens of New Wair. Up and to arms until the Hero is summoned and brought forth to strike back against the Demon Lord and his armies!"

These were the words spoken by she who was their queen, and led them forward to the battlements. Each of whom had heard of the tales of Heroes being summoned to their world, bringing about great change both good and ill to the kingdoms of Terra. To know that they had one being brought forth was enough to spur them forwards, even though their chances of living were slim at best. For each Demon had the strength of ten of their knights, and to deploy two thousand against their city? They would be lucky to live through it all.