| The Arch Angel War After the Great Invasion 250 years ago, When Alboroth had set Talakar free, Peace was declared and the land renewed, That it assumed for all Eternity. Naught they knew of Gnadenlos up North, Where Tarago the Wizard was about to spring forth. Long he nurtured in his ancestors� evil, Accruing sorcery to his dead heart�s content, And forging fell weapons to assist his revenge. Foul ways for his anger to vent. So, he slipped into a void of blackened hate, And let all of his actions ride out with Fate. From Belefont he�d come, killing Men in the night, With poisoned arrows raining from the sky. Witnesses claimed it was the Angel of Death, With wide-spread wings and a shrilling cry, His skin blood-red and hair pitch-black, Yielding a scythe always thirsty to hack. To different cities at random he�d fly, Sharing with everyone his spiteful wrath. But none could find from whence he came, For Tarago kept his elusive path. Thus the land fell captive to him, And Talakar was on Destruction�s brim. Oh, Men had tried to put the Demon down, But so very futile were their tries. They withdrew no blood and his only pain, Was Life hardened by previous lies. Yet that pain was what drove him still, A poisoned mind and a devoured will. For a time, he ceased, returning to Belefont. Depleted he was of every magical spell. He must chant by the wellspring in Fellar Tower, In order to summon back his potent Hell. It was then Alboroth scouts dissipated his shroud, For they witnessed above Gnadenlos an ominous cloud. For a month he resided deep in his stronghold, Oblivious to the plays of his numerous foes, Concentrating only on the gathering of strength, Not seeing Men about to step on his toes. For all Kingdoms united against this terrible threat, And in the Misty Valley the two forces met. One day Tarago awoke to a thundering sound, The feet of countless soldiers marching beyond his door. Leading the force was the brave King of Alboroth, In his hand, Heiliger Diamant, to settle the score. For it had been passed down since Malathor�s fall, Now wielded by King Alucarton the Tall. One against many, he came on fiercely strong, Fearing nothing dealt from that hand of Man. Conjuring a spell to increase his physical size, Intimidation, and away some ran. Flying down from the Horizon�s perchless ledge, The Dark Angel lunged forward with his Reaper�s Edge. �Methinks you ought to just slay yourselves, Driving your own sword straight through your breast, For no Man can test the Might of Fellar. Grant me your death, I�ll govern the rest.� That Tarago taunted the whole of the crowd, Shouting narcissistic superiorities aloud. Alucarton was protected well by his host, And had not yet shown the Diamond to his foe. But moment came when he unsheathed its glory, Which was the mark of unraveling woe. With the command of his voice, the sword flew thither, And Tarago brought about their hope to wither. Now armed with sword, scythe, and magic, Tarago was more fearsome than was before. He would show Men no mercy and that, None should ever knock on a Wizard�s door. So he resumed more onslaught while grinning so, Malevolency consuming in a flourishing flow. Of a league consisting near 10,000 Men, Too quick was he for any their toes. A dance he performed both graceful, unflawed, As the number of fallen warriors rose. Both sword and reaper had sampled much blood, Adorning the Earth in corpse-littered flood. Perched on a tree far from War�s touch, Allanim put to his bow a golden arrow, The famed Great Bane of Krylic the Fellar, Brought from Horrigran, in hopes to cease sorrow. The bow pulled tight, the archer let go, And on Allanim�s face, a smirk did grow. Facing the shooter, the Dark Wizard raised his hand, Arrow halted before him, inch from his head. Krylic�s Bane fell to the ground not doing its deed, And with a sense of despair the troops were fed. Then, Tarago filled the air with laughter and glee, And resumed his revenge against all Humanity. After Allanim�s failure, there remained one play, And so came forward Alboroth�s Divine Mage, For not only Fellar possessed magical prowess; Talakar�s final hope to diminish Tarago�s rage. Letting down the robe�s hood, long golden hair, In Serapho�s eyes gleamed a most intense white flare. Serapho raised her hands, soldiers fled the field, Because none knowingly dared stand in her way, For her hands contained more power than anything forged, And it was prudent to heed whatever she�d say. Then, Tarago descended to the level of the ground, Laughing, �So this is now your most promising hound?� The Dark Wizard approached, she winced not a muscle, Her face was calmed as if in internal peace, Panic did Tarago, though surely not shown, For around her neck she wore the Necklace Aneese. Only he and the Mage understood what that meant. From ancient lands of South, an Angellin was sent. Black versus white, fireworks flooded the sky, And the Earth rumbled under that of great might. Both delivered with grace the enchantment each bore, And tension around onlookers prolonged and so tight. Evenly matched seemed the Mage and Dark Wizard Tarago, But withholding her might was the Divine Serapho. Into Gnadenlos the battle had led, By design of Tarago who required more spells. Into darkness itself, where no Man has been, Of details and secrets no tale thus tells. But is known the duel proceeded to the roof, For flashes upon the Horizon were the needed proof. Alucarton and his men prayed from the Valley, Not certain as to whom the conflict would bend. If Serapho won, Man would know peace again, If not, Humanity�s existence would end. Fate lay with a stranger from a land afar, Of a race unknown to most of Talakar. Two hours they sparred, sixty stories above, Their efforts clearly seen and heard below. Anxious grew spectators, wishing for closure, For it just waged on continuously so. Then came their answer, falling from grace, From the tower�s roof to the Earth�s cold face. Two bursts of light descending side by side, Until both had impacted straight into the dirt. Inspecting they found each conquered the other, And in Man�s heart both relieved and hurt, For Serapho accomplished what she set out to do, But in the making she had lost her life, too. Before Man could honor her with a burial of worth, Dissipating into the air, her body disappeared, As did Tarago, the very last of the Fellar, Gnadenlos stood, the place Men feared. The artifact Heiliger Diamant remained as well. But only in memory were beings so fair and fell. |