In the begining, humans walked the earth without a care other than that of every day life. Unbeknownst to them, there were far worse things that lurked in a realm of which they knew nothing about... yet.

Something else the world knew nothing of which they would soon be made aware of in time to come... the begining of the end. The birth of death in an unimaginable way... the birth of a child. However, this was no ordinary child, for upon its birth, it bared pointed ears and a mark upon its flesh...the mark, was this...though, it has never been seen...

Yes, perhaps it is common for one to bare some sort of mark when they are born, but this was different. See, amongst these times, it was an old folklore that this specific mark ment only one thing. Death. Total destruction and utter chaos. Sadly, the mother had only one choice. The baby was wrapped in cloth, and with much hesitation, pain, and resentment, to save the child's life, the father took his son and set out on his journey.

After traveling for quite some time and crossing a great bit of distance, the man and his son came upon a river. The man knew of this river, for he had studied maps of the land for his travels. The man dismounted his horse, his basketed child in hand, and approached the river's edge. He kneeled by the water, kissed the infant's brow, and with a single tear placed the basket in the river. He stood, stared for a long moment as the basket drifted slowly away until he finaly forced himself to turn and walk to his horse where he mounted the animal and rode off. Miles down the river, a guard of the present king, Lord Morbid, spotted the basket while headed for the castle. 'Strange' he thought to himself. He made his way to the river's edge, and as the basket drew closer, the guard could hear infant cries. Once the basket had reached the man, he took it from the water... taken offguard a bit by its contents, he was unsure of what to do. 'The king will know what to do' he thought to himself, and so... with that, he took the basket onward to the castle, to his king totaly unaware of the mark which the child bared.

Lord Morbid, who truely lived up to his name, was not to say, at the least, 'exstatic' with this. Infact, he had ordered that the child be...'dissposed' of... it was disfigured, or so he thought, but it was soon discovered that this disfigurement was nothing, for the child was Drow. However, later on that night as the king sat in his study with the child, that order would be relinquished. As he looked over the child, the king himself was nearly taken off his feet as he discovered the mark upon the child's flesh. He decided that the child may perhaps come of use in the future. So, from then forth, the child was raised and trained once he was able. However, it was ensured that the child not be permitted to venture beyond the walls of the castle, and that the mark would remain hidden. Very few knew about it, and thus once the threat had been made that any whom dared speak of it would be killed, the secrecy of the mark was secured.

The Boy...

As years past, the infant grew into what you could probably call an 'interesting' boy. Due to the fact that he was not allowed to leave the compound, his life was one of solitude, which he did not seem to mind. He had no friends, nor did he long for any. One can't miss what they never had. He kept to his studies mostly. He studied many things, Magic, for one. It intrigued him. How it worked, the effects of it, the whole entire concept and understanding of it simply astonished him. It was obvious that any mere man could wield a sword and fight, for that took only strength and a little knowledge of different tactics and manuevers. Magic however, to be able to wield magic, to control it and its effects, now that took great dedication and knowledge. That, soon became his passion, but under his `father's` orders, he also was trained by the elders of the kingdom and the greatest of swordsmen. Something else which he took too quickly and seemingly had a natural gift for. He had quick reflexes, and learned things at a rate quicker than any other his age. It was truely amazing. So, he had a strict life, having to live up to his `father's` expectations, the king.

The Adolescent...

As time and the years past, he grew stronger, wiser, more skilled, and more 'aware'. He domintated the ring and any whom was put up against him in battle. His first kill, his opponent's stomach had been slit open, and as his inerds fell out spewing onto the ground, his head fell from the neck which it rested upon. This had set something alive within the young man. Something... Ungodly had been awakened. From that moment on, he craved to have the power and the control of taking another's life. The king seen the change within the young man, and immediatly began planning, for he knew how he was going to use him in the near future. But until that time, the teenage wonder continued to rein supreme in the battle arena, and thus earning the name which he would be called from that day forth. Lord Armageddon.

The Man...

Time progressed, and the young man known as Lord Armageddon soon became well known throughout the land. Some would think this is a good thing... but was it? The king gave him leadership of his army which he had formed when others in distand lands began to oppose him. Lord Armageddon was worshiped alright, but only because of who he was. He had infact brought much pain and suffering to many familes throughout the land. He made a name for himself, but it wasn't a good one, and technicaly, he realy didn't care. See, over time, every since that first kill, he realy enjoyed every kill there after. Sick, some thought, but the king knew... he knew that this man was born with the passion to kill, it simply needed to be...'unlocked'. But soon, Lord Armageddon wanted more. He wanted to be a boyar. He thought he had earned it given all his years of loyalty and service to the king. He had even picked out a small section of land. When he approached the king with his proposition, the king grew uneasy and told him that he would be given his answer the following day. That night, the king had much to think of. He had been given everything he ever wanted thanks to Lord Armageddon. Power beyond his belief, lands as far as the eye could see, riches to last a life time. But now, his 'creation' wanted more. This made him uneasy, for he knew that Lord Armageddon could have his way, if he so wished. He had earned the trust of his men whom he led into battle time and time again, and now, he was getting greedy. And greed meant trouble. The only way to ease his mind, was to see to it that Lord Armageddon be 'dealt with' now that he had obtained everything he needed.

The next morning, when Lord Armegaddon approached Lord Morbid, this is the conversation that took place.

They traveled for four days until they came to a small village which rested at the foot of a mountain. at first, Lord Armageddon stood still, silent, and thought to himself 'Why would anyone have a problem completeing such a simple task?' As he, and his companions moved on forward towards the village, it became apparent, that this particular village was one of gypsies. This made Lord Armageddon even more curious. As they reached the village, strangely enough, no one paid them any mind. Finaly, an old man approached the small group. "Good afternoon..." he said. "Something I can help you fellows with?" Lord Armageddon nodded and spoke..." My Lord, King Morbid has sent me to find someone. A Lord Baren... might you know of him, or where he can be found?" Suddenly, at the mention of his name, all those whom were about at the particular time froze where they stood. Lord Armageddon gazed around for a moment, then looked back to the old man before him as the surrounding gypsies finally moved from where they stood, eyes still lingering on the small group of soldiers. The old man nodded..." ah yes, Lord Baren has been expecting you..." and with that said, a decrepled hand lifted towards the mountain, and his index finger extended. This surprised Lord Armageddon and his men... Expected? How so he thought for no other knew of this mission. For one brief moment, perhaps the first time in his life, Lord Armageddon felt a sudden wave of fear wash over him. This whole entire situation was wierd, but the sensation soon passed as he turned his gaze to follow the decrepled finger of the old man up to the mountain. At first, he saw nothing but darkness up there in the thick shrubbery of the mountain. However, after a moment of staring... there, on the peek of the cliff stood a stone castle barely visable. It was as if Lord Armageddon could feel his heart skip a beat as he looked on, but he surpressed the feeling, and nodded to himself as if he were confident, but his men knew differently. "Well then, lets not keep the man waiting... shall we?" Lord Armageddon had said. However, the old man quickly spoke up..." My Lord, forgive me, but I must first let Lord Baren know that you are here before you can venture any further. Afterwards we must wait for his reply." At this, Lord Armageddon laughed..." apparently you know not who I am..." but the old man quickly spoke... "Oh no My Lord, I mean no disrespect, I am fully aware of who you are, but I also know of Lord Baren, and I would much rather face your wrath than his...". This startled Lord Armageddon a bit, and he pondered on it for a moment. Finally, he spoke..."Fine, do what you must, but be quick about it." The old man nodded and turned walking across the grass signaling them to follow. After a moment, he came to a large circular object covered by a cloth. He reached up removing the cloth to reveal a large circular mirror mounted in a stand. Lord Armageddon watched the old man curiosly as the old man lifted his gaze towards the sky for a moment, then up to the cliff where the castle stood. He then tilted the mirror upwards and along the mountain catching rays of the sun and reflecting them as a large beam of light. He moved the mirror up until the beam of light hit the castle. There he left it as he turned back to Lord Armegeddon and his men and spoke..." Now we wait." Lord Armageddon had no clue as to what the old man was waiting for, but said nothing. Instead, he, and his 2 companions sat around in a small circle and decided to have a snack while they waited.

The group sat talking amongst themselves when it finally happened. Just before the sun had set, a light suddenly came forth from somewhere up on the cliff. Now, the old man returned to the group. "Lord Baren will see you now..." he said. "I am to take you part of the way, then you will be on your own." With that, they gathered their things and set out up towards the mountain along through thich shrubbery and darkened woods. Just as Lord Morbid had expected, none of them returned.

Ten years had passed, and all had nearly been forgotten. Then one night, on the same night of which Lord morbid had held the party of which he, and Lord Armageddon had spoken, something devistating had occured. It was as if some sort of plague of death had swept through the compound. Not one person in the entire place was left alive... except one. A guard, whom had hidden himself fairly well during the slaughter, would be the man whom would condem Lord Armageddon... 'again'. Lord Armageddon was hunted down, binded in thick chains, and incased in a cement crypt, and forgotten. The tomb was marked so all whom might happen to come upon it would know that it was not to be opened.