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In the beginning
Posted Tuesday, April 10, 2001

Opening his visor, eyes dull with no passion, he surveyed what was around him . The number of the enemy was beyond his comprehension, the battle raging down in the valley below, the banner of his legion 30 paces in front of him, other banners of innumerous legions jutting up from the sea of sibling warriors as far as the eye could reach. It did not matter, he knew his purpose, a warrior in tune with himself, a flowing, deadly, ferocious pawn of war. It had always been like this, it would always be like this. They were next to go, the legion that had stood before them for as long as his memory had served him, torn to shreds by a towering obscenity and its horde of minions.

Spasming from the power that suddenly flowed through his body, light searing from his eyes, his hand almost loosing grip of the pulsing blade he would use to fulfill his destiny, he became one with the raging warcry that emerged from the throats of ten thousand warriors, as the legion set into movement, the noise of their feet slamming into the ground drowning out the sounds of battle around them. Eyes bright, alive with the intense purpose he felt, a voice within him urging him onwards to the rhythm of his razing heart, "Onwards, warrior, Destiny awaits!" as the legion closed on the ravenous monstrosities in front of them.

Blinking, she looked at the legion in front of hers as it set into motion, watching the carnage as warriors were ripped apart by the brutality of the dark horrors that faced them. A blast of magic tore violently at the banner she held, forcing her to readjust her grip on the pole, the energy impacting somewhere behind her. She felt the warriors behind her shuffling to fill in the ranks where others had fallen to the blast, knowing that they would follow her banner unflinching into the huge chaos that reigned before them. Her eyes stayed on the banner of the legion in front of her, as it wavered, grabbed from hands soon cold by a warrior still standing, passed on from one to another as warrior after warrior fell. Knowing that when the time came, and that blood-soaked torn banner did not whip proudly in the wind above that legion, it was her destiny to move her own forward, to call her legion into the fray.

"Stop.". The voice filled her head, the battle in front of her coming to a confusing, grinding halt. She kept her gaze at the banner, not understanding why it did still wave in the wind, awaiting the time when she would move forward into her destiny. "This is futile.". The power of the words rang through her mind, as her sense of purpose dwindled, her eyes uncertainly following the pole of the banner, looking for the first time at the warrior that held it, soaked in blood, armour battered and skewered, clutching his blade in a gauntlet shaking from the unspent battlelust. Slowly, he turned, the light once searing from his eyes with fury now dimmed to the silent glitter of uncertain awareness

Continued here

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