an unwelcome welcome

Picking himself up from the ground, he silently curses to himself for tripping again. It had been the third time since he had tripped over anything because of the added weight of those strangely appearing muscles that gave him this bulk in a dream a few nights ago. He wipes the dirt from his face, and picks up Venin again before pressing on. The halberd, aptly named from his past, had begun to grow heavier as he drew nearer to his destination. It wouldn’t be long now, but the added weight did not lessen the dread he had been feeling since that one night of the dreams.

Abruptly, the forest gave way to a clearing…one he knew all too well. Kneeling next to a tree that had elven runes on it, one could only hear a soft mumbling, “I will be back, melamin. And when I do…you can rest in peace…” After this small speech, he kisses his fingers and places the finger on the runes, and then something eerie brings him up in a snap. The clearing was inside the barrier the town had erected to keep certain beings out, namely daemons, and he clearly remembers feeling it when he walked through it before. He did not have that feeling when he had walked in the area it should have been in. Picking up Venin, he walks stealthily towards the town of his birth.

The smell of ash and smoke and blood permeates through the air. Even before he saw the devastation, he knew. The village lay in a wreck, and hewn bodies were everywhere. Bodies of his friends. And among a large heap, lay a body with a broken sword hilt in his hand, and daemons littered the ground around him. The figure made him gasp and nearly run out there to him, but then he remembered that some people could still be around. It was the body of his father. First his mela, and now his father. Then the rest of the town. He wanted to scream. Though he did not. Venin, which had been steadily growing heavier, was light as a feather now. Frowning down at it, it began to glow slightly. A rustle in the leaves behind him makes him turn quickly on his heels and swing the light Venin where it originated from. The halberd blade pierces through daemon-wrought chain mail and flesh as if it were not there. Not pausing, he brought a follow-through swing that hamstringed him, and finished off the falling figure by lopping off its head, causing a cascade of red blood to fountain out of the new hole. It happened so fast the daemon next to it did not notice what was going on until the killing swing was already under way on his fellow, and even then he could barely pick out the silhouette of the elf he was told about that would come. Elean then fixed his gaze on him, and the daemon parried his assault but once before dealing the killing blow. Then, there was a sharp pain in his shoulder and head from behind, and all went black…..

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> Picking himself up from the ground, he silently curses to himself for tripping again. It had been the third time since he had tripped over anything because of the added weight of those strangely appearing muscles that gave him this bulk in a dream a few nights ago. He wipes the dirt from his face, and picks up Venin again before pressing on. The halberd, aptly named from his past, had begun to grow heavier as he drew nearer to his destination. It wouldn’t be long now, but the added weight did not lessen the dread he had been feeling since that one night of the dreams. > Abruptly, the forest gave way to a clearing…one he knew all too well. Kneeling next to a tree that had elven runes on it, one could only hear a soft mumbling, “I will be back, melamin. And when I do…you can rest in peace…” After this small speech, he kisses his fingers and places the finger on the runes, and then something eerie brings him up in a snap. The clearing was inside the barrier the town had erected to keep certain beings out, namely daemons, and he clearly remembers feeling it when he walked through it before. He did not have that feeling when he had walked in the area it should have been in. Picking up Venin, he walks stealthily towards the town of his birth. > The smell of ash and smoke and blood permeates through the air. Even before he saw the devastation, he knew. The village lay in a wreck, and hewn bodies were everywhere. Bodies of his friends. And among a large heap, lay a body with a broken sword hilt in his hand, and daemons littered the ground around him. The figure made him gasp and nearly run out there to him, but then he remembered that some people could still be around. It was the body of his father. First his mela, and now his father. Then the rest of the town. He wanted to scream. Though he did not. Venin, which had been steadily growing heavier, was light as a feather now. Frowning down at it, it began to glow slightly. A rustle in the leaves behind him makes him turn quickly on his heels and swing the light Venin where it originated from. The halberd blade pierces through daemon-wrought chain mail and flesh as if it were not there. Not pausing, he brought a follow-through swing that hamstringed him, and finished off the falling figure by lopping off its head, causing a cascade of red blood to fountain out of the new hole. It happened so fast the daemon next to it did not notice what was going on until the killing swing was already under way on his fellow, and even then he could barely pick out the silhouette of the elf he was told about that would come. Elean then fixed his gaze on him, and the daemon parried his assault but once before dealing the killing blow. Then, there was a sharp pain in his shoulder and head from behind, and all went black…..
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