The Battle Between Blades

Chapter One: Destruction of Bargate Prison!, An Old Hero Discovers An Ancient God!

Dark icy waves crashed against the formidable ice walls of Bargate prison, torrents of rain lashing the fortifications of the ancient building, and thunder streaked across the midnight sky. Magic crackled through the night sky too, but there was no one around able to sense it. In the guard room at Bargate prison the night crew were once again arguing about who had to check on the prisoners, and as the same on many nights it had started with a game of blackjack. ”Fine, the lot of you shut up, i’ll bloody go” Boris shouted , grabbing his red coat and slamming the door on his way out, his aging legs running the distance to cell block one, he tried his best to keep the rain from going down his neck but some things just always happen, his face grimacing at the freezing cold droplet of water edging its way down his back, he nodded at the few sentries on the way down stopping to slap the newbie John on the back, his smiling face congratulating the boy on his post. When he finally came to cell block one he never paid attention to the smell of the burnt air, or the silence from within the cells, thinking the prisoners sleeping. He did pay attention for just a few seconds though, when he opened the door and blue light shot out instantly burning his body to nothing, with the following explosion of  blue wrath destroying much of the architecture behind him.

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The legendary Paladin, known to few as Arthur Roland D'Eath, slayer of white balverines, arena champion, Mayor of Bowerstone, living descendant of Archons bloodline, slayer of Dragon Jack of Blades, most importantly, father of five children, and finally the current Guild master of the Heroes guild, could never find time for anything non work related, be it his family or friends, or hobbies. Taking care of the guild and bowerstone leeched his life, he hadn’t seen his wife Lady Grey, or the two of his children who hadn’t come to the guild for a week.
    So when on a stormy, dark night after finishing paperwork about acquiring a new shipment of steel longswords for the guild armoury, he‘d just put his inkpot and quill away, started absently stroking his wispy white beard, when the damned warning beacon for Bargate prison went off, slightly shocking him from his daydreaming, all he could do was give off a startled grunt and a tired sigh, and he thought how exciting this job looked when he was younger, faster, stronger, and much more younger.
      The prisoners rarely broke out, or made enough mischief for the guild to be dispatched for help. Most of the qualified heroes were either on a mission, holidaying or sleeping, and he realised with another tired sigh, he was probably one of the only person's awake in the main part of the guild, he had sent his manservant Alfred to his quarters a long time ago, and the sentries had their own fairly new station positioned along the vast guild walls.
      Giving off one last tired sigh, and hauling his massive, ancient frame out of his exceedingly comfy chair, one thing he could always enjoy in the guild was his expensive comfy chair, he walked over to his weapons shelf, waving his hand at it, the mahogany doors shot open, revealing his vast personal armoury, he picked up his old master longsword, he doubted he’d need something extra special to deal with a couple of unruly prisoners, buckling the longsword over his shoulder he stretched his aging joints and jogged down his office steps, memories coming back to him of when he eavesdropped on Scythe and Maze on the first day he was at the guild, "it was so long ago.." he thought absently ,walking the length of the now silent hallways, the walls covered with accomplished heroes face's, now walking straight into the remodelled  ’hub’ entrance of the guild, the first thing he had done when he started his term as Guild master had been to expand the entrance hub there was now a waiting room, refreshments around the clock, different entrances for heroes and civilians, a much larger map room, and finally he had added another four warpstones. Taking a clay mug from the refreshment table, he dipped it into the drinking fountain, thinking “ I need to get more sleep, I should ask Albert to take over for a week or two, see the kids” if he could call them kids anymore, all of them had grown up now, the youngest two were still training to be heroes, the eldest was the chief of police for bowerstone city, and the last two were both respected and powerful spellwarriors, even if they were still bastard punks. Placing his mug on the used pile, and stopping his reminiscing, he noticed there no other mugs there, and he found his brain yet again reminding him“nearly everyone is sleeping”, with a rather melancholic look on his face, he waved his hand at the guild notice board flipping the card with his name on to 'Guild Business'. He stepped onto one of the guilds cullis warpstones, the coalescing blue energy warping him to the grounds outside of Bargate prison.

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His leather overcoat billowed in the air currents coming from the ocean, he took a deep breath, tasting the saltiness from being so close to the sea, the cool winds whipping his huge frame. He started jogging to the main gates of the building, sword swinging gently on his old shoulders, he felt sleep in his eyes, from not sleeping for a long time, he vowed to go to bed when he got home, he could after all, wait for morning to raid the mansions  pantry, as he usually did when going home to the Grey mansion. The gates came into view, well where the gates should have been came into view and he realised  they were broken, "well, not broken, but obliterated," he thought. Bits of wood were everywhere, scattered around the surrounding area, the walls were unsteady too, as if a gigantic blast had exploded from within, blowing the bricks out of shape slightly, in some parts they had fallen down, the old brick smashing against the rock and ice path creating a treacherous grey slush-like path. "What could have caused such wide scale damage, a renegade mage?, another blasted swamp dragon? he remembered when a swamp dragon had awoke from its long slumber and had attacked Oakvale” ,and the scent of magic, it had a whiff of Jack of Blades about it, that strange aura that made you feel as if you were utterly insignificant. Fearing the worst, and wishing he had at least thrown some chain mail armour on he started jogging faster, past where the gates should be, and into the utterly destroyed main area of the prison.
     Stopping in front of what  he knew should have been the cells, he noticed the entire north, east, and parts of the west wall was gone, the floor around the cells bleached a gritty black by some sort of magic, the steel cell walls and the three thick iron doors were collapsed onto the floor, whatever had caused this obviously couldn’t burn metal. His nose burnt slightly from the stench of the magic, "exactly like Jack "he spoke softly, his voice whispering across the once walled plaza, and his mind once again wandering off, this time to think of the battle that made him a true living legend to the people, when he had calmly walked into a nightmarish visage of hell called Archons Folly, back when he still had blonde in his hair, instead of his now pure white, his hand clenching Avo's Tear, took his last trial by fire, destroyed the dragon Jack of Blades, and walked out on fire.

    Near Paladin, roughly a dozen metres away, covered by all sorts of rubble and two steel cell walls, was a man, a man who had just woken up, did not know who he was what he was doing under a lot of rubble, and why he was in a lot of pain, so he thought suddenly "lets try moving my arms, are these called arms?, and these legs, I seem to know what this body is made of, and how to name its parts". So he moved his arms slightly, then he shifted his knees a little then he remembered he had eyes, so he opened them and  could only see black, instantly he panicked, his newly remembered mouth giving off a harsh scream, and his legs and arms squirming under the weight of the rubble. Then the steel cell walls were heaved off of him, and the rubble moved away, being levitated by some force, and a massive frame of a man appeared silhouetted by the moonlight, his blue eyes focusing on him, seeming to understand who he was for a second, almost looking at him threateningly, then his face changed to a sad look, and he picked up the man, who jerked slightly.
     "Who are you?" Arthur asked, having put the man on the ground next to him, investigating his injuries. A blank look, with curious red eyes looked back at him, and Arthur sighed, "just what he needed, another challenge, he had a guild to run, a wife and five children to run, and now a strange thin man with will markings all round him, the typical grey will-user skin, and an incapability to speak to take care of". the man started to stand up, his brow furrowing in concentration, waves of blue will magic scurrying over his injuries, the bruises and shallow wounds slowly withdrawing, his normal greyish will-induced skin appearing again, but this time less crackled and scarred, and more smooth, the man smiled slightly and looked at Arthur as if to say "look, all fine again". Then without a grunt, or coherent word, the mans red eyes rolled upwards and he collapsed, dust circling in the air from the force of his fall.
       Arthur looked at the man who had just collapsed then gave another hearty sigh, his shoulders sagging and he felt an irrational desire to kick the collapsed man, he was truly getting fed up with adventures, instead of kicking him he picked the man up, threw him across his shoulders and activated his guild seal, the waves of blue energy once again whisking him and the man away, with one last thought lingering in the magic burnt air "I'm never going to get sleep tonight".