-You find a dust-ridden tome, the edges of the pages frayed and the spine falling apart at the seams . The words are somehow legible but you can find no trace of the author’s name, only the title, “The Tower of Heroes”- :: :: When the world of Humans was still rather young, before Iblees wrought his ugly curse on the world, Horen, the great Father of all Humans, had comissioned the construction of a great watchtower to the north of the capital, in the woods. Horen thought to use the tower to watch over any coming threat from the North, or to watch for bandits fleeing through the canopies of the trees. Moreso, perhaps he simply had it built because he could. He was always fond of such elegant structures and his people loved them as well. The tower was completed, spiralling high into the sky, always seeming as if the edge of the clouds was just within reach, yet never quite touching them. But the tower would be short lived, for shortly before its construction, the creature that came to be known as Iblees arrived in the land of Aegis. I scoff still at the accusations that this monstrosity’s existence was a test from some god….for if it was, he is a cruel god indeed. But I digress. Iblees came, and as the Ancient History states, tempted all of the brothers except for Krug with his ill-wishes. As we all were oft told as babes, Krug refused to give in to any temptation but when challenged to single-combat by Iblees, he readily accepted. It was then that Iblees would show his true form, attacking all four brothers, all of their children , and all of Aegis. Countless lifes were lost as were many tomes of knowledge, and many architectural works. :: :: The watchtower was one of such works which fell. Toppled easily as Iblees rampaged across the land, the ruins of it were shortly after inhabited by a group of rotten, tainted souls who worshipped Iblees and bowed to his might. The people nearby realized that these men living so close to them was a threat they could not reconcile. They were still men, yes, but they wished to join Iblees and kill and slaughter as much as they could. But the people were afraid, frightened by the tales that these men had wicked powers given to them by Iblees. Only one man was able to stand and say that these fools, these “worshippers” of Iblees should be killed before they could further taint the woods. “Horen, our Father, is out there right now, fighting Iblees personally. We can do nothing to help him!” the man shouted from what remained of the capital’s square. “But just north of us, in our very own woods, is a threat to all of us, which we are able to defeat ourselves! They have entrenched themselves in our land, spreading their lies about the power of the Evil One and tempting our young men into joining their darkness.” A voice himed in from the crowd that had gathered. “Why should we risk our lives against them? Just let them be…” :: :: The man scoffed, spitting on the ground in front of him. “Leave them be?! Every person that joins Iblees increases his power. Would you sit idly by in a forgery, while your enemy comissions swords with which to run you through?! They must be killed before they can cause any real damage. This is the least we can do for our Father, Horen, as he risks his life with his brothers to fight o ff Iblees! Did Horen just ignore the problem, hoping it would go away?! No! He joined the fight, and we can too, in our own way!” The crowd thusly began to rile behind him, many of the still-able soldiers of the city gathering arms for an attack on the worshippers. At dawn they left for the ruins of the tower. Freezing cold from the sleet and hail, the men set out through the woods and towards the ruins of the tower. The worshippers outnumbered the men from the city, but they were weak of body and spirit. Cowards, all but one of them fled at the sight of the soldiers, running into the woods where they were chased down to be slaughtered easily. But the one who commanded the worshippers was recognized by the leader of the soldiers, the man who riled them together, as being a former Captain of the army. He had turned traitor, leading a group of worshippers and sacrificing people in the name of Iblees, in the hope he would be given immortality in exchange for his actions. :: :: “Captain!” the man called out in disgust. “Why are you here…why….do you do this? Betray your own people in the name of this monster?” The captain scoffed, looking down at him from above. “I have served Horen for nearly all my life. I received nothing but a meager pittance in exchange! I risked my life on a daily basis to defend the Capital, and I am repaid with nothing. Only kind words and thoughts. I never grew in power when I was a soldier…but when I turned mine eyes towards the powers of magic, and the Mages, well…” The Captain laughed heartily now, throwing his head back before leaning forward to look down upon the man scornfully. “The Mages are weak. I chose my own magic to use. I found forbidden tomes, researched and plotted, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. I learned the arts well, better than any of the Guild would know. Now, I am ready to strike against you filthy humans and join in Iblees’ service. You fools are too weak, too cowardly. Too afraid to deal with something you do not understand, or learn about something your forefathers have deemed ‘forbidden.’ Hah! You are just a cowardly lot who will die easily at my hands, as Horen will die at the hands of Iblees!” :: :: The man would take these atrocious words no longer. He gripped his sword tightly, gritting his teeth , and prepared to bound up the stairs of the crippled tower, to slay the man who hid on the top of it. But before he could make a move…the Captain, now a self-taught mage, struck him with a firey bolt of dark magic. The man was barely able to dodge it, the bolt striking his legs as he hit the ground. The New-Mage leaned down now, grinning, hoping to hear a yelp of pain, a shriek of fear, a scream pleading for mercy…but nothing came. The Mage’s smile slowly faded as he leaned over the edge of the tower, listening more intently. “Dead already…?” he asked quietly to himself, and the anwer came in the form of a quiet laugh from below. The Mage’s eyes widened as he looked down, mouth slowly taking a frown of disappointment, then anger as the laughter grew louder. “What…what are you laughing about, knave?!” the Mage yelled, glaring at the crumpled body of the man who dared to attack him as he slowly raised his head towards the top of the tower. He was beaten, bruised , bleeding, but he…smiled. The Mage didn’t understand. Did the man not know his wounds were fatal? Did he not understand that once the Mage grew bored of him, he would leave and kill off all his companions, then likely everyone in the city?! Did this foo lish human not understand the power he now wielded ?! Did he not…wait. A noise…from below… :: :: “Hahaha…You…are a coward. A fool. An ignorant, idiotic man as there ever was. Ah, but no. Not a man. Not any longer…” The man stopped for a moment, coughing, before raising his head to address t he Mage again. “No! You are the fool! You are the coward! I serve Iblees…I am stronger than you!” the Mage yelled down below, once calm voice now raising to a higher pitch in angery and frustration. “No. I fear death, yes. I fear pain, of course. But you….you fear life itself. Are you so weak that you cannot bear to live in this world? Is that why you seek to join the undead hordes which rampage about the land at Iblees’ command? The fact that you are too weak to even live in this world?!” the man retorted, smile still playing across his face as he examined the Mage, who now shook with rage. “No..no…I am the strong one! I am victorious! I have all the power, and you have nothing! You will die! Your men will die! Your family, your friends, all of Horen’s children will die!” The Mage screamed, energy welling up around him in his rage…and this time, the man’s smile faded. :: :: “Yes. We will die. As does everyone, eventually. Your magic is impressive, yes. It will take my life …” The man sat up slowly, looking down at the ground and his battered, broken, and burned legs. “B ut…” The man looked back up at the Mage, smirking. “My blade will take yours!” In a single fell swoop, th e man flung his blade upwards towards the Mage. Only his legs were injured…he had lost a deal of b lood, yes….even if he did live, he would never walk again… but he still had the use of his arms and chest. He flung his blade with all his might, praying to God and to Horen that it would strike true. :: :: The Mage saw it coming too late. He was in too much of a rage to concentrate on a defensive spell, a shielf, something which might protect him, save him from the blade! And he realized…it was the ma n’s plan all along! The bastard knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate enough to save his own skin if he was in such an upset….But the man also must have known the Mage wouldn’t leave his death to chance. In one last stand, the Mage muttered a quick spell, casting it u pon the man as the blade flew closer. Just as the blade embedded itself in the Mage’s chest, another firey bolt of magic hit the man, killing him in one fell stroke. :: :: But as the Mage yelled and cried and screamed, clawing at the blade in his chest as he slowly died, the man made no such noises. He lay quietly, and as the Mage’s cries drew the men back to the tower, they saw both of them dead. The May lay in death sprawls at the top of the ruined tower, his face twisted in an unrecognizable horror, the likes of which the men has never seen before. The man, meanwhile, lay down at the bottom of the tower…his body burned and bleeding, but his face untouched….and on his face, a smirk, and peaceful, closed eyes. :: :: From a woodcutter who was working nearby and had hid amongst all the nois