One thousand black spears pointing skyward, glinted in the failing light as the sun slowly descended over the battlefield. Black clawed hands on one thousand large, beautiful creatures gripped black sword blades. Although, they looked similar to men these were not men, but demon creatures that stood waiting. Their skin shone inhumanly, blue-black in the twilight. Stark against the black glistening skin, sharp, white fangs gleamed, dripping saliva. Night black hair, neatly braided, cascaded down the backs of the demons like thick ropes. Their eyes glowed with green phosphorescent malice. Over their perfectly sculpted bodies they wore only black loin cloths and they held their wicked looking weapons in tense anticipation. Each demon shone as if just oiled or sprinkled with a delicate rain. Standing in perfectly ordered ranks, was the army of beautiful living, obsidian statues, they did not move or breathe they just waited for a signal. King Kullorn’s handsome albino face grimaced in the wind and his red eyes glowed with anger as he sat upon his tumultuous black mount, steam misting from the nostrils of the snorting beast. He surveyed the ranks of demons and smiled a wicked, satisfied grin. He was very pleased with himself and his troops, eyes glinting eager for victory. Despite the staggering numbers of the opposition across the battlefield from his forces, King Kullorn sat tall with confidence in his strength. The force that he had enticed to come against him could not stand against his demon warriors. Turning, he spoke to the huge black armored figure beside him. Violet eyes glowed from the depths of the being’s dragon winged helm. After a short discussion the figure spurred his mount forward to the front of the ranks. Silence ruled the battlefield and the green demon eyes trained on him as he dismounted then stood still for one long moment. His chest expanded as he took a deep breath and, with a mighty shrug of his shoulders the black armor on his back parted, and a huge pair of wings unfurled from the demon’s back. White wings glowed brilliantly in the failing light and the sharp feathers spread wide as they reached up beseeching the Heavens, as if asking for permission to fly. The black demons behind the white winged figure began to hum and in perfect rhythm beat their spears on the earth. The sound rose, mesmerizing the coming night and then blending in unison. With a mighty flap of his large wings, the white demon bent at the knees and then leaped into the sky. The ranks of black demons chanted louder, their bestial song echoed as he circled once over them, drew his huge black sword and then pointed towards the waiting army of men. King Kullorn’s laugh was heard booming out as his demons made ready to charge. Ruled by a strong human ruler, commanded by a white winged demon, each warrior-demon was filled with lust for battle. Filled with self-conceit they would have balked at following a human leader, but they followed King Kullorn because of the white winged demon that had trained them and led them into battle. King Kullorn raised his fist in the air and then chopped it down sharply. The battle began. The demon horde and the forces of the men marched forward and clashed together. King Kullorn’s army cut through the infantry as easy as if they were bugs crushed under their bare feet. The men broke and ran. Suddenly huge fire balls streaked through the twilight sky and crashed into the demon forces. King Kullorn bellowed orders as the white demon swooped over his demons and landed in the front ranks. Shouting in a loud voice he led his followers, hefted his great sword and cut down man after man, reaping a crop of the dying. The battle raged on. King Kullorn screamed loudly ordering his army to hold their ranks and fight as a unified military force as was critical in warfare. Demons had a tendency to flee back to the underworld once they had their claws into a human soul taking one man at a time. Thus, Kullorn’s numbers dwindled swiftly. Suddenly, the men who had earlier fled now circled back behind the demons. They came in waves and thousands more men joined the fight, coming from behind the hills wielding silver swords and iron knives. They fought with desperate intensity. The fireballs of tightly wrapped hay had been covered in pitch and threaded with iron nails and exacted a heavy toll among the demons that could be felled by the iron and fire charmed by Blue Sorcerers trained to command the elements. King Kullorn brandished his sword high, spurred his stallion forward and launched into the fray. Arrogance had blinded him into thinking this was going to be another easy victory, but this time his foes were prepared and good was triumphing over Kullorn’s evil hoard. Making a huge, useless effort to regroup his forces, he was over taken by a hundred men, pulled off his horse and hacked to pieces. # For five years now the Prince had slowly retreated into himself. After his father’s disgraceful defeat in battle and then his bloody death, he did not know how to continue on. As commander of his King Kullorn’s forces, Prince Lorn had spent many long years training demons and mercenaries, who were willing to sell their souls to the King of Jior, and whipping them all into a semblance of military organization. It was all for naught though, he could never break the demons of the propensity to bolt after taking a single human soul and vanishing into the underworld. Now Castle Jior fell into disrepair around him, the black granite walls cracked and threatened to crumble, and the echoes of the past died away on the winter breeze.
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