The Introduction
A Small Background of the Major Events of Wolf's Life, Told Through the Eyes of Willow "Wolf Guardian" Greye Herself
A Small Background of the Major Events of Wolf's Life, Told Through the Eyes of Willow "Wolf Guardian" Greye Herself
Fade in.
Lost in an echo of a memory. An ancient Power. A Thirst For Blood. Thares. NineLives. Alpha. Graves. Reinhart. Intertwined in battle-
NO.
War. Massacre. Utter Slaughter...
Army of Damned, Forsaken Empire, Demon Hunter Masters, Hell's Garden. A mixture made to raise all Hell, create an uprise in the very fabric that held Gaia together, and tear it along its seams. Armies with the strength of thermonuclear weapons clashing against each other, leaving just about as much behind as the bombs would themselves. Wasteland. Suffering.
The soldiers themselves fought for what they believed just causes, ideal clashing against ideal just as much as sword clashed against spear. It was an era known as the Great Demon War. Better known by some as the era of Life-and-Death. Mere threads were all that held together peace treaties, no guarantee that the enemy would turn their back on the agreement in the middle of the night, and so it was your side who was first to break the treaty just so you'd be sure to live to see another day.
It was hell. Yet, it was paradise to every soldier out there, no matter how ravaged their mind was, it was blood and battle they hungered for. It was that, that led to this war, and it had been a long time coming, small skirmish here, battle breaking out there, but never anything to really sate a thirst that needed it. The dam broke when the DHM attacked AoD. It was then, that alliances were formed upon both sides revelation that they could not win the war alone. Hell's Garden and Empire pulled in on either side through ties that were none-too secure, but managed to hold to the last breaths of that war.
The ending battle, one led by one who had been pulled into war; a victim, and yet a martyr and bloodthirsty leader; a hero to his people, and an enemy to all others: Draximas Alpha. With a final blow to the AoD, the war cries fell silent. Though he had not killed the demon Lord, it was enough. Enough to stop the war. Baptized in the blood of hundreds, and marked with ashes as a symbol of their faith, the soldiers came together as a new point turned. Enemies became brethren as The Order of the Underworld rose from what was left of the Empire, the DHM, Hell's Garden, and the AoD. Blood started the war, and blood washed away the war.
The rebuilding. The Falling. A rise of new dawns, and the set of the coming sun. Things happened fast, from that point on. Battles were fought, enemies challenged. No war. Nothing to sate the now again rising fight. Organized fighting rings, tournaments, the only outlet to a fighter's thirst. Still. No purpose to really fight for, and always the guarantee of your life if you forfeit. No sacrifice to be made; no martyr for a cause. There are those of that blood that still wander. Xion Arcadia, Willow Greye, Krstalian Misuyanashi, Nanashi Rose, Relinth Thares, Jeg Shin, Ashen Frost, Riddle Juliano, Roan DeSeer...
The list goes on. And On. Tensions run high as fights become scarce. It is those remnants of the ages past that bring light from the old world, leading figures that guide and watch those of the new. It is their thirst for battle and war that continues to live, and be carried on, if not in their own hearts, then in the hearts of those that they've passed it on to.
Or at least that's the story I've told. As Wolf...As WG...No, not even as Willow, would be right.
As the Wolf of the Alpha, The Betrayer of the Forsaken Empires, this is the story I've passed on. I've fought my battles, and won against my demons.
I suppose the question now is...
What is it, that they, those others remnants from an era long forgotten...
What do they plan on passing on for history to tell of?
Fade Out.
Lost in an echo of a memory. An ancient Power. A Thirst For Blood. Thares. NineLives. Alpha. Graves. Reinhart. Intertwined in battle-
NO.
War. Massacre. Utter Slaughter...
Army of Damned, Forsaken Empire, Demon Hunter Masters, Hell's Garden. A mixture made to raise all Hell, create an uprise in the very fabric that held Gaia together, and tear it along its seams. Armies with the strength of thermonuclear weapons clashing against each other, leaving just about as much behind as the bombs would themselves. Wasteland. Suffering.
The soldiers themselves fought for what they believed just causes, ideal clashing against ideal just as much as sword clashed against spear. It was an era known as the Great Demon War. Better known by some as the era of Life-and-Death. Mere threads were all that held together peace treaties, no guarantee that the enemy would turn their back on the agreement in the middle of the night, and so it was your side who was first to break the treaty just so you'd be sure to live to see another day.
It was hell. Yet, it was paradise to every soldier out there, no matter how ravaged their mind was, it was blood and battle they hungered for. It was that, that led to this war, and it had been a long time coming, small skirmish here, battle breaking out there, but never anything to really sate a thirst that needed it. The dam broke when the DHM attacked AoD. It was then, that alliances were formed upon both sides revelation that they could not win the war alone. Hell's Garden and Empire pulled in on either side through ties that were none-too secure, but managed to hold to the last breaths of that war.
The ending battle, one led by one who had been pulled into war; a victim, and yet a martyr and bloodthirsty leader; a hero to his people, and an enemy to all others: Draximas Alpha. With a final blow to the AoD, the war cries fell silent. Though he had not killed the demon Lord, it was enough. Enough to stop the war. Baptized in the blood of hundreds, and marked with ashes as a symbol of their faith, the soldiers came together as a new point turned. Enemies became brethren as The Order of the Underworld rose from what was left of the Empire, the DHM, Hell's Garden, and the AoD. Blood started the war, and blood washed away the war.
The rebuilding. The Falling. A rise of new dawns, and the set of the coming sun. Things happened fast, from that point on. Battles were fought, enemies challenged. No war. Nothing to sate the now again rising fight. Organized fighting rings, tournaments, the only outlet to a fighter's thirst. Still. No purpose to really fight for, and always the guarantee of your life if you forfeit. No sacrifice to be made; no martyr for a cause. There are those of that blood that still wander. Xion Arcadia, Willow Greye, Krstalian Misuyanashi, Nanashi Rose, Relinth Thares, Jeg Shin, Ashen Frost, Riddle Juliano, Roan DeSeer...
The list goes on. And On. Tensions run high as fights become scarce. It is those remnants of the ages past that bring light from the old world, leading figures that guide and watch those of the new. It is their thirst for battle and war that continues to live, and be carried on, if not in their own hearts, then in the hearts of those that they've passed it on to.
Or at least that's the story I've told. As Wolf...As WG...No, not even as Willow, would be right.
As the Wolf of the Alpha, The Betrayer of the Forsaken Empires, this is the story I've passed on. I've fought my battles, and won against my demons.
I suppose the question now is...
What is it, that they, those others remnants from an era long forgotten...
What do they plan on passing on for history to tell of?
Fade Out.
