A battle raged for fort Sumeniar, the capital of the Dark Dominion. Archers stood on top of the fort’s walls and towers, nervously waiting for their enemy to appear at any moment. They knew if the capital fell, the rest of the Dark Dominion could follow. The enemy finally came into their view, it seemed to the archers that there were at least several thousand of them. Their formation consisted of infantry in the center, with elven archers and dwarven cannons flanking them.

“Ready your bows!” A goblin yelled out to his archers as the alliance army marched closer. “Nock!” He yelled out, archers then set arrows into their bows. “Draw!” Arrows were pulled back, the captain waited for the enemy to be in their range before giving the order. “Loose!” A volley of arrows touched the sky before they hit their destination. Hundreds of alliance soldiers cried out and yelled in pain as the arrows them. Still, it was not enough to deter the besiegers as they marched on towards the fort.

Behind the gates of the fort, creatures of many kinds readied themselves to meet the enemy on the ground. Goblins shuffled nervously, orcs grumbled, and undead blankly stared onwards.

“Open the gates!” Someone yelled out and soon after the gates rumbled and lifted. The dark army archers let out another volley of arrows towards the alliance army as their ground forces rushed to meet the attackers. Alliance archers let out their own hail of arrows and cannon fire. An orc got hit with an arrow in the left arm but he simply pulled out and kept charging. Others were not so lucky, one cannonball hit the crowd, killing and injuring several of the dark army.

Despite the mounting casualties, both sides pressed on. The dark army could now see in detail the alliance army. Their ranks were mostly made up of humans, many of them only wore simple chain mail armor and wielded a sword or a spear. Both armies crashed into each other and began hand-to-hand combat. An orc swung his massive war hammer into a human, crushing his head. A goblin held a detached limb in his mouth as a soldier with a missing arm screamed out. The battle raged on, with no side with a clear advantage, that is until he appeared.

He wore steel-plate armor with a closed steel helmet, wielding a sword that gleamed brightly despite the lack of sun. It was unmistakable who he was, Mikal Seral, the hero of the alliance. He had once been a simple farmer boy until he had gone on a quest to retrieve the legendary gear of Ashimar. He cleaved through his enemies without any real effort, after few minutes the tide was turning in favor of the alliance. Mikal, however, heard cheering coming from the dark army as they made way for someone or something.

His armor was very similar to what Mikal currently wore, only it was pitch black and spikes protruded from it. The giant scythe he wielded reminded Mikal of tales that his grandmother used to count him. Of a spirit that would take the souls of the dead to the underworld where they would meet their final judgment. He was no Lord Death, but he was Lazis, OverLord of the Dark Dominion. An earth mage made the landscape shift and rise. After he was done, Lazis and Mikal were both alone in some sort of makeshift valley. Mikal realized that he did not want the dark army and the alliance to interrupt their fight. He was now trapped with Lazis.

Mikal rushed at the OverLord, he slashed at Lazis but he deflected the blow with his scythe, making a loud clanging sound. Mikal went with an overhead chop but Lazis once again deflected it, this time, however, Lazis counterattacked and slashed at Mikal’s midsection, his scythe cutting through his armor like butter and wounding him. Lazis cried out in pain and quickly jumped back.

“What’s wrong hero? Am I not as easy of an opponent you thought I would be?” Lazis said, his voice was high-pitched and grating. “Do you seriously think you can defeat me simply because you wield the weapons of Ashimar?” This time it was Lazis who initiated the attack, he leaped towards Mikal and slashed at him. At the last second, however, Mikal brought up his tower shield, and the scythe hit the shield instead of him. Lazis furiously pounded away at the shield but it was all for nothing, as the shield would not yield. The shield started to glow before it let out a blast of light, blinding and staggering Lazis. Mikal used this brief moment to press his attack, he hacked at Lazis’s left shoulder, wounding him. He went for another hack before Lazis recovered and deflected the blow. “You think that you are fighting for good? That the realm will know peace after you defeat me? The humans, the elves, the dwarves. They will all go back at each other’s throats and engage in their petty wars!”

“Shut up!” Mikal shouted before he charged at Lazis with his sword raised. Lazis quickly stretched out his right arm and let out a blast of dark energy, hitting Mikal squarely on his chest and knocking him onto his back.

“I will bring peace and unity to everyone! No more wars over petty disputes and ideologies! No more poverty and starvation!” Lazis yelled out to Mikhail.

“Yes, and you will turn everyone into a living corpse to achieve it!” Mikal retorted as he got back up.

“You short-sighted fool! There are forces at play that you don’t understand, and you are playing right into their hands.”

“Enough of your lies! This ends now!” He attacked furiously, Lazis deflected most of his blows but it was not enough for him. Mikal hit the scythe out of his opponents’ hand, and before Lazis could summon magic, Mikal had driven Faithkeeper straight through his chest. He pulled Faithkeeper back out and looked at the gaping hole it had left.

“Beware the Voidtra,” Lazis whispered out before finally succumbing to the fatal wound. Mikal had a look of confusion on his face, what did his last words mean? Was it just another lie?

A green hand pierced through Mikal’s torso as he screamed out in pain. A goblin had snuck behind him and dealt a mortal wound.

“This is for the thousand claws clan!” The hooded goblin yelled out.

Mikal woke up in his bed. He was inside his tent. A woman lay beside him.

“A dream?” The woman asked. She had fair skin and dark brown hair, with striking blue eyes that remind Mikal of the sky on a clear day.

“Yes. About yesterday’s battle. Only at the end, I got killed by a goblin.” Mikal said.

“A goblin?” She said in an amused tone, “The champion of the Alliance felled by a mere goblin.” She laughed.

“They can be resourceful and clever, Alissa,” Mikal said in a serious tone.

“That battle left you high strung. Maybe I can help you relax,” Alissa said as she touched Mikal’s bare chest.

“No, I just want to rest for now. There are still dark army remnants fighting and I don’t know how soon the next battle will be.” Mikal said.

As if on cue a voice called out from outside the tent, “Master Seral, pardon the late hour but I have urgent orders straight from the King. May I come in?”

“Give us a moment to get dressed,” Mikal said as both he and Alissa got up from their bed. As they both got dressed, Mikal recalled when he had first met Alissa. The village he had lived for his entire life had been raided and burned down and he had barely escaped with his life. Alissa, a wandering mage, had found him lying half-dead in the middle of the woods. She had nursed him back to health, and they had been inseparable since.

“What?” She said with a smile on her face.

“I was just remembering the first time I met you. You saved my life, and if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have made it this far.”

“It was you who defeated Lazis, not me.”

“Yes, but you accompanied me on my quest to find Faithkeeper. I wouldn’t have done it without you.”

“You were meant to wield Faithkeeper and stop Lazis, I simply pointed you in the right direction.” They had finished getting dressed and Mikal called in the messenger.

“Alright, go ahead,” Mikal asked.

“You must travel to Blackhill at once. The king has ordered you to partake in the siege against it.”