VAERICK

In distant lands a war raged, holy against the unholy. The light
against the shadow. The forces of darkness had drawn many
allies. Undead of all ranks, demons, and mortal men with black
hearts ran rampant throughout the countryside. This group,
forged together by a strong wizard who had intentions of world
domination, sought to crush any and all opposition with extreme
force. Even as the soldiers of light cut down the legions of mortal
soldiers, the magi of the army would simply raise them from the
dead and send them back to the field.
 
On a field of battle, long into the day when the action had
subsided, thousands of bodies littered the ground. The blood
was inches deep. The warriors who fought for the innocent
people of the territory did so valiantly, but their strength was not
enough. All were dead, or at deaths doorstep. The hordes of
shadow moved past the broken bodies of the fallen, and set forth
upon the villages which the army had attempted to protect.
 
A commander lay there, amongst the fallen soldiers of light,
bleeding from many wounds, and nearing the veil of death. A figure,
bright as the sun illuminated the dim light of the early evening. It
seemed to float down from the heavens themselves, and began to
speak to the dying commander.
 
"Vaerick" it said. "You have long fought the forces of evil, even
though you faced the pain of death. You shall not die this day, but
shall rise, stronger and endowed with the capacity to smite those
who further the cause of darkness." The glowing figure reached out
and touched the brow of the commander and continued speaking.
"Now rise. Rise and stand against evil where ever you may see it.
Smite those who would stand against the righteous. Cut down the
wicked, and leave no stone unturned in this endeavor."
 
The illuminated figure then vanished, leaving only Commander Vaerick.
His body healed, his spirit mended, and his thirst unquenchable. After
taking measure of himself and his newfound form, he picked up his
greatsword and marched forth, to gather the brave, good hearted men
and women and wage an unending war against the forces of evil.
 
It was two days later that the newly empowered commander took
sight of the army that had slaughtered his troops. Vaerick had
gathered a small band, and using the newfound raging spirit that he
possessed he likewise empowered a small band of soldiers. Just before
dawn, the glow emitted by these holy warriors of purity could be seen
by the guards of the dark army. Smirking amongst themselves, the
hordes of darkness prepared to meet what they though was a pathetic
attempt to attack them, a last ditch effort at best.
 
The second battle was half as long and twice as gruesome. Casualties
soared, but this time, the losses were on the side of darkness. The
evil combatants had no idea what had hit them. This small handful of
soldiers, imbued with the raw power of the spirit of purity itself cut
through the hordes as if they were twigs. The bright, holy aura brought
light to the darkness, and for the first time, the dark wizard feared for
his life. However, he would not fear for long.
 
Vaerick left a path of blood and dust as he cleaved and cut his way
to the wizard. The mage knew the danger and screamed for his guards
to save him, but none answered. They had been slain. Step. Step.
Step. Vaerick approached, sword in hand. The mage offered deals,
pleas, curses, and threats but none stopped the commander from
drawing nearer. The blade burned white with the vengeance of God
as it came down on top of the Wizard's head and did not stop until
the metal touched the ground. It was over.
 
The victory gained, Vaerick dispersed the holy warriors to go in all
directions and pacify those with wickedness in their hearts. As for
Vaerick, he too departed, and traveled to a new land where the war
of good and evil still waged. Aabahran.