Born into Darkness.
Part Two: The Legends Among Us
Chapter One: The Clan
"After George Of Exeter, the Dragon Slayer disappeared on the day he killed the dragon, people were distraught, they looked everywhere for the hero, but found nothing. Eventually a group of people set up a school in his memory, they called it the Black Dragon clan. And it was here that the legend has grown. Allow me to tell you of this clan, of its heroes and its villains. Of how it became what it did, and why it was wiped out. And more importantly why Din-Skiden, the last Black Dragon, is no longer fighting for good, but for evil.
But first, we start at the beginning. how the clan was started"
The day was dark and gloomy, clouds filled the sky, and rain threatened. A man and woman walked through the muddy streets of Exeter, the home of the hero, the dragon killer, George Cadarn.
It had been two years since George had disappeared from sight, two years of looking, and finding nothing.
The two people walked through alleys, until they reached the cathedral, they entered its brilliance, and looked up at its massive roof.
As they walked along its aisles, the pews were almost empty, except for a few peasants praying for warmth and food. They reached the alter, and looked up.
There it was, the Lance of George, the Dragon Slayer.
This was, acording to the legend the very weapon that George had used to kill the dragon. The fact it was the only thing left, was also a major factor in that belief. When George had disappears, the lance was left on the ground, near the dragon, nearer the dead horse. Speculation was that George had used the lance to save his life, and killed the dragon with it, then severed its head.
The truth, is far different, George had in fact discarded the weapon as too clumsy, so left it where his horse died, preferring to kill with the axe and sword.
As they looked up, the woman said "Oh George, where are you?"
After a few hours of praying, and looking at the lance, they left, the rain was falling heavily now, mud being churned up in the street by every
foot fall.
"We must do something in George's memory, we must make sure he is not forgotten." The female suddenly blurted out.
The man just grunted, and thought on this for a while, and looked at his wife. "We should get the lance back"
With that they both turned, walking back toward the cathedral, and emerged later with George's lance.
"We can start our own clan in memory of George." Said the man as they walked of toward the cathedral.
It was with that one sentence, that the idea of clan Black Dragon was
planted in their minds, and when George's brother took hold of the lance,
the power inside it was passed on to him. Only a fraction of the power that flowed through out the dragon killers body, but immense power nonetheless.
William, brother to George of Exeter now had control of the Soul Fire. Somehow, it seemed as if George had unwittingly stored inside the lance a small piece of the Soul Fire.
As if in pain, William fell to the floor, and as his wife, Nelly looked on terrified for her husband, his body was having spasms, and then they died away, and slowly, but surely William gradually stood up. He smiled, an evil chilling smile, not his usual warm caring smile.
He had changed, and not for the better.
From where ever he was, George the Dragon Slayer started to cry. His baby brother had just been seduced by the evil that was the Black Fire, and Nelly would soon be as well. Now he would be needed again. George the Dragon Slayer would return.
"For all this I know, I was there, I am the first hand witness to the
history of the clan of Black Dragon."
Chapter Two: Prophesies
"The war between good and evil has waged eternal, always fought behind the scenes, where normal people couldn't see. That ended the day that the Black Dragon appeared, and the war on earth began the day George became the Dragon Slayer."
After ten years, the Black Dragon clan had become one of the most feared in the land, it was unknown to the public why they had turned evil, all were good men, good women before the Black Dragon, the man formally known as William Of Exeter, had them in his clan. It was unknown what on in the clans walls, but it was evil, that much was known. The clan killed for pleasure, raped, pillaged and stole from peasants, murdering their sons, taking the women.
Every town that was 'visited' by them was completely destroyed.
And they rode to their next town.
The day was sunny, and life was good for the town of Hookton, there hadn't been any trouble for a year, there was hope the Black Dragon clan would not come back this year, wouldn't come back to terrorise the town of Hookton. There was a circus in town, and everybody was having fun. It was on a day like this the Oracle had a strange visitor. The Oracle sat in her circus tent, and old woman, dressed in a long blue gown, incense wafted through out the tent, giving of a strange, yet pleasant smell.
As she sat there, calmly waiting for her next visit, she felt a strange
sensation coming over her, she had visions of torture, and utmost evil. She saw children being burned alive, women being raped and men being
castrated.
She couldn't understand why this was happening, or who would do such a thing.
The tent door flew open, and a man, walked in. He had a black cloak
covering his body, and its hood up. In the dark of the tent, she couldn't make out his features.
"Tell me ma'am, what have you just seen?" He enquired with a friendly, yet persuasive tone.
She new instantly he wouldn't hurt her, so told him.
"Has it happened yet?" He asked her
"No, it will happen later today."
"Where?!" He asked, in a hardened voice.
His sudden change in tone startled the Oracle, but after gathering
herself, she told him. "Here, Hookton will become no more by the end of today. God save us."
"I'm not God, but I will have to do." The man turned and walked out, his cloak being caught by the wind, showing a sword beneath.
The old women smiled a knowing smile.
Chapter Three: Return of a Legend
The clan rode toward the small town, intent on totally destroying it, they would have their circus, they would have their fun. William's eyes glowed brightly, an evil glow, Black Fire trailing behind him from his eyes, as he rode. His cloak billowed out behind him, his broad sword in its scabbard, he led the clan. He claimed the name of Black Dragon this day as his own, and the evil inside must be fed.
From the town, all they could see was a dust cloud, but they knew what it was. And they were terrified.
The man who had visited the Oracle, stepped out side, he had been inside his room at the local inn.
He walked toward the main street of the town, against the flow of people running. And stood there, waiting.
He seemed larger than before, as if he had suddenly put on weight. His hood was still up, his cloak wrapped around him.
The people of Hookton noticed the man, standing there, and some kept running, some hid and some ran back to their houses, and watched.
He waited. Some speculated he would save them, some that he would welcome the clan, and others that he would die.
The clan rode into the town, finding it empty, only one man standing there in the middle of the street.
William stopped his horse, and sat there, saddled up.
"I suggest you leave this town clan of Black Dragon" The man in the street shouted. "Before you get hurt."
William, surprised that this one man would even stand and give out a
warning, looked shocked. "Who are you?" He asked.
"Your enemy." Came the reply, and with that the man removed his hood and let the cloak fall to the ground.
He had his chain mail on, his shield with the red cross on the white back ground, and he had his sword and axe.
The townspeople could not believe their eyes. "And I am here to stop you."
The man drew his sword. It seemed to glow with a white energy, it
shimmered in the hot midday sun.
"Come and die. Come and be sent to hell." He said.
William grinned, the mans skull would make a good drinking cup. William got of his horse, and the clan got of theirs.
Drawing his sword William advanced toward the stranger, his clan followed, their weapons drawn.
The man threw his shield at William, and drew his axe. In the left hand was his double bladed axe, in the right the shimmering sword.
William dodged the shield and grinned.
Both men ran at each other, both yelling out his war cry.
William swung his sword at the strangers neck, it was blocked with the axe, and a sword rushed toward William's belly.
William jumped back, but still the sword slashed open the tunic he wore above the mail. The stranger pressed his advantage, swinging the axe at William's head, William ducked and the axe missed.
"Well kill him then!" Shouted William at the clan, as five male clan
members rushed forward, another five climbed back on their horses. The stranger stabbed one clan member's neck, swinging the blade in a wide arc the caught the clansman next to him. As one fell, his neck shredded, the other put his hand to his neck, and as blood on the fingers. In slow motion almost, as he looked at his fingers, the axe flew toward his head, severing it completely.
The other three circled the stranger, who simply threw his axe at one,
slicing his belly, his intestines burst out through the wound.
The stranger faced the other two. He took the sword in both hands, and stood there, his face placid.
One of the men lunged at him, and the stranger knocked said the lunge, sliced his sword across the clansman's neck, and then spun around,
reversed his sword in his hands so the bade was close to his little figures and stabbed the last one in the chest, before he realised what was happening.
Picking up the axe, the stranger stood in a mass of blood and gore, two horse men rode him, coming fast. The stranger waited, saw one horse man lift his sword up, the other line his sword up to spear him straight through his chest.
The stranger waited until they were close enough, the jumped to the right of the one trying to spear him.
Swinging his axe into the clansman's back, the stranger was left with a dead man on a horse, and a man riding at him full speed.
The stranger sliced his sword at the horses mouth, and brought the horse crashing down. He stood above the fallen horse man, and brought his foot on his neck, crushing the wind pipe.
"Who are you?" Asked William, in a voice that betrayed shock and surprise that one man could kill seven so quickly with out getting hurt.
"I am your enemy, and I will not stop until you are all dead." Came the reply.
William decided that it wasn't worth any more lives to ransack this town, so he turned his back on the stranger, climbed his horse, and simply said. "He isn't worthy. We will not let him have the satisfaction of hurting another one of us. Come we go."
As the clan rode of, the stranger looked on, smiling. He cleaned of his
blades, sheathing the sword, sliding the axe back into its back holster,
picked up his shield, put it on his back, and picked up his cloak.
A young man, barely seventeen came up to him. "Your George arent you? The Dragon Slayer himself?"
Looking him in the eye, the reply came in a steady voice "Yes, I am he."
George pulled the body of the last remaining live horse, climbed up on to
it, and rode of, in pursuit of the clan.
"Good bye Thomas" He shouted over his shoulder at the young man he had
first met in the castle the night before he killed the dragon.
"Good bye thank you so much mister" Thomas shouted after his hero, the man who had saved his village.
"George of Exeter is back once again, he lives among us, he is the Dragon Slayer. Where he went, only he knows, what he did, only he knows, but what he will do, you shall soon know."
Chapter Four: The Beginning Of The End.
The fire flickered, casting shadows over George's hooded face, a face that was once, many years ago handsome, but now was wrecked with lines of guilt and torment.
Guilt over starting the legacy of the clan of Black Dragon, although unintentional, it was still his fault. Torment over his task, the task to destroy every single clan member. It was taking its toll on the Dragon Killer.
As his eyes began to close, he pulled his cloak over his shoulders and fell asleep.
The Sun rose early the next morning, and George rose with it. he saddled up his horse, and rode of in search of the clan, following the tracks he had been following for days.
George had been riding for what seemed like hours when he found the remnants of a campfire. Dismounting his horse, he looked around the woods, searching for fresh tracks, and found them. He followed on foot, his sword dawn, shield held up. He walked past branches, bushes and trees. Unaware he walked into a trap.
George walked on, he heard some movement, and was on his guard. He carefully walked forward, and then heard a shout. Several men, clad in the Black Dragons colours charged him.
He threw his shield at one, crushing ones wind pipe, sliced his sword at another, spilling his intestines, working with the cold efficiency of a man who has seen to much fighting, George quickly finished the rest, leaving the dead and dying on the floor.
He walked on, hurrying now that he knew he was closer to the clan, closer to his destiny. He encountered more of the clan later on, and he crushed skulls, pierced lungs and cut out his bloody path.
By the end of this day, thought George, he would be free, free to go back to his farm, and the world would be a better place. And his burden would be lifted.
Then, without warning an arrow struck his chest, piercing the mail armour, breaking a rib and finally lodged itself in his lung.
He spat blood, and fell down, he shook his head, and tried to stand. Another arrow slammed into his leg, and another into his left shoulder.
"Did you really think you could beat us all stranger?" William asked.
"William.....?" George said through bloodied lips" Why? Why would it have to be you?" George took of his helmet, and shook his sweat plastered head.
"George? So it is truly you. We all thought you dead. Now brother, join us, this is all in your honour, in your memory."
Disgusted with what he had just heard, George spat at William, then answered him with venom in his voice. "I would never join you, not after seeing what you have become. I will fight you till I die."
"Then die now!!!" William drew his sword, and swung at George's neck. George parried the blow, the blades met each other time and again, each blow being parried, countered and reversed. George was gaining the upper hand, his skill was superior, but he couldn't keep up the momentum, he was losing blood fast and only one lung was working.
Eventually, he slipped, and William, roared his triumph, and stabbed down at George stomach. George felt the cold steel slide into his skin, felt the blade twist and being wrenched free. He could barely keep from screaming in pain, but he managed it.
Looking down at George, William sighed. He kicked George in the head, sending him into unconsciousness. William motioned at his clansmen to take George, so they lifted him onto a horse, and took him back to the castle.
Chapter Five: Even Legends Must End Somewhere
When George awoke he found himself suspended by his feet in what seemed like a dungeon. His stomach had been stitched up, but the blood ran down his body and into his hair before dripping on to the floor.
"So your awake. Good" George heard some movement and his blind fold was taken off. A three toothed grinning man greeted him, he was obviously an executioner. George tried to grab the man by his hair, but found his hands were chained together.
"Join us George" The shadowed figure spoke.
"Never" George hissed the reply.
"Join us or die"
George spat on the floor as a reply.
The figure sighed and gestured to the executioner, who unchained George's legs. George fell to the floor in a heap. As he was pulled to his feet, and he stood to his full height. "It doesn't have to be this way George"
George said nothing.
"Fine, take him to the rack" The figure sighed.
The executioner grinned and pulled George along by his chains.
As George was strapped into the rack, he knew he could not cry out, for to do so was to admit defeat, and he maybe captured, he may about to be tortured, but he wasn't beaten. The lever was pulled, and George felt the ropes tighten on his hands and feet. The ropes started to dislocate his shoulders, and pulled on his thighs. The pain was immense, but he didn't cry out. It went on for what seemed like hours, bones being pulled out of joint, muscles starting to tear.
Then the racking stopped.
George was hauled onto a cross, and after he was secured, his skin was scraped with metal comb's. As the comb's scraped his skin, they left cuts and torn skin in their wake.
Already in pain, this made it worse, his skin being scraped off, his flesh being torn.
"Have you had enough George, will you join us?"
George looked up, and his eyes flashed white with the Fire he carried within.
The figure looked shocked. "Join us George"
George spat again.
The man shook his head. "We will leave you here to think about your decision. Maybe in the morning you will have changed your mind" The two men left the room, and George was alone. Alone with his pain. Alone with his memories.
They came the next morning, and took George of the cross. With out words they placed him between two large wheels, the wheels had wooden spikes on the rims as the wheels started to turn, they tore through George's flesh, doing more damage than the combs had the night before. His flesh was being torn to ribbons. After several minutes, the dragged him out from between the wheels, and laid him on the floor, his arms above his head. They chained his hands and feet to the floor and poured boiling water onto his flesh.
George's neck suddenly tensed, and he could barely stop himself from crying out. His eyes flashed with his power, flashing brightly.
Then they shadowed figure from the night before took out a bag of salt and rubbed it onto George's wounds.
George nearly screamed, there was a trickle of blood from where he had been biting his teeth together so hard.
"I will only ask once more George, join us. Join us or you will die." The shadowed figure spoke for the first time all morning.
"You can kill this body. But you can never kill my soul. You know that don't you William? You know I'll be back sooner or later don't you?"
Then a guard hit George on the head, sending him into unconsciousness.
George awoke tied to a stake, there was dried wood at his feet, and dead bushes mounting up to his waist.
The shadowed figure walked up to George, seeing only a man who was once a fearsome warrior, battered, in pain and near death. The shadowed figure removed his hood, and his eyes stuck George first red corneas, with no pupils. Then George recognised his own brother, so different because he let his soul become corrupted, and the Black Fire was corrupted with him.
"Goodbye dear brother" William said, bitterness clouding his voice as he lit the spark that would burn George to death.
As the flames reached his waist, George caught William's eye.
"You can not hide from me William!!! I'll be back, and when I do, you and your clan will all die. All of them!" With that, George's body was enveloped with flames. And William was afraid, for he knew that George spoke the truth, he knew George would be back.
Suddenly a huge column of pure white fire screamed into the sky, and George's body slumped down, dead, still burning.
"He fought to uphold justice by breaking the law. He tried to atone for evils he didn't commit. He was a hero to the end. He was the Dragon Slayer. He was George Of Exeter. And he is now dead."