Rhea sighed. It appeared that no one was interested in telling a story due to the silence, and Roland had already prepared his bedroll. She guessed that it was to be expected. They were certainly tired from the walking, as well as dealing with bandits on the first day. She had just been trying to lighten the tension. "Well, since it appears that no one is interested, I guess I'll call it a night," Rhea said to the group, pulling out her own bedroll. "Hold up. What happened to me telling a story?" The gruff voice belonged to Nash. He appeared to be scraping out the last bits of the stew from his bowl. "You said if they didn't want to, I could." He was talking through a mouthful of food. "Right?" Rhea smiled. "Well, I suppose I did. Let's hear it then," ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Nash swallowed the last of his stew. "Hmm... Which story to tell...?" he said, thinking. "Well... I suppose I'll tell an old favorite. The legend of the hero, Lagerius. It's certainly suitable for the crisis we're in right now." He cleared his throat. "Now, as you all probably know, Lagerius was around during the Demon Age. This was well before any of our modern cities were built, back when demons roamed the land. There were many battles between the allied forces (Made up of the humans, Shantii, Vanda, and elves), and the demons led by their king, Craes." "The Dok didn't participate in this war," he said, looking towards Megaira. "I don't think the other races even knew they existed yet, honestly.... Perhaps they didn't. Anyway, back to the story. I'll tell the tale of one of the battles -- the most important battle that ended the war -- The Battle of the Blackened Plains. "The previous battles in the war between demons and humans had weakened both sides tremendously. However, the allied forces had finally reached a point where victory was within reach. They had cornered Craes' forces on the Blackend Plains, between the allied armies and the Knotted Mountains. Despite this, the demons were fighting back stronger than ever. It appeared that the alliance might be defeated. That was when Lagerius left the main fray along with his friend and mage, Grist. They tore through the ranks of the demons, using the might of Lagerius's sword and Grist's magic, slowly approaching the plateau where the demon king rested. Eventually, they reached the bottom of the plateau, and climbed the spiral path, chiseled by magic, to the top. The sky was dark, and there was a great storm overhead. This plateau would be the deciding point of the war. A battle between the greatest of the demons, and the best warriors the alliance had to offer.
The demon king's back was turned to the two. Without turning, he laughed a dark laugh before saying: 'So this is it. You think by defeating me here, you can save this world? Ha! Look around you. It is already destroyed by war. Besides...' the demon king turned, 'You won't be leaving here alive!' With that, the battle began. As the battle between demon and man dragged on, the outlook appeared more and more hopeless. Even with the support of Grist, Lagerius's attacks seemed to have no effect on the demon. Grist's magic was the same. Meanwhile, Lagerius was wearing down and receiving injuries as his movements slowed. 'Grist,' Lagerius said, 'use it. It's the only way we can have a chance of winning this war. I'll stall him long enough... and provide the necessary cost. My power should be enough...' Grist started to protest, then solemnly nodded. He knew it was the only way. Lagerius spoke again. 'I have received a prophecy...my last one to deliver. Please here it.' Lagerius began, When all hope seems lost, he shall arrive, He shall come to the tiered city, ragged in appearance and with hair as bright as the full moon, But a small boy, his power shall be great, Train him, and he shall deliver the world from the greatest evil it has known. When Lagerius finished, he gave a short nod to Grist before returning to battle. Grist took out the magic scroll they had received from the elven mages prior to the battle. It was to be used only as a last resort. Grist began to chant, while Lagerius used his remaining energy to keep the demon king at bay. As Grist finished the chant, he shouted, 'Craes, daenic deth wrathi...VANESHTA!!' A rope of light reached between the scroll and Lagerius, before extending to Craes. As it connected to the demon, the rope turned startlingly black. The demon king let out a scream of agony, and Grist released the magic. A pillar of light and fire appeared around him, before exploding outward. Grist's vision went black for a long time, and when it finally returned, he found himself to be the only one remaining on the battlefield. The soldiers of both sides were nowhere to be seen. The plains had been charred black by the blast, hence the name "Battle of the Blackened Plains." Grist wept tears of happiness for the war finally having ended, and sorrow at the loss of so many lives. He returned home, and Lagerius's prophecy has been passed down through his decendents ever since." "At least, that's how the story goes," Nash said to the group. "I don't hold any belief in the truth of it, but hey, you never know. Anyway, I'm pretty tired now, and I have 3rd watch, so I' like to get some rest. 'Night everyone." --------------------------------------------------- Rhea smiled as she walked over to her bedroll. That story was one of her favorites. A sad twist at the end, but a victory overall. It was a bittersweet story, and a good one, even though Nash wasn't the best of storytellers. She thought of how she would like to be as strong as the heroes as she slowly drifted off to sleep.