Crimson Snow

A battle has raged, blood soaked snow covers the field as weapons lay idle by their fallen owners.

The air is still but a definite chill creeps across the lands, as a presence of power stands tall, The dark skies begin to brighten as a new day falls upon us, the sun rises from the west as a few wispy clouds dance across the vast blues above.

The last few cries of pain had faded just moments ago and yet the pain and anguish lay heavy on the snow as the crimson continued to spread and seep through what was earlier a pristine sheet of pure white.

The silence broke, the snow began to crunch and grind beneath the feet of four hesitant adventurers, their steps slow as though attempting to sneak up onto the battle field.

Fear was evident not only upon their features but in their movement.

Slow, as steady as could be and yet it looked as though the group would flee at the drop of a hat.

Like a thick fog that took over the scene, the sheer power of their ominous foe was suffocating.

A darkness grew from this great figure, chaos, corruption and death had become more than a threat but at this point, a promise for all who approached and yet, the four continued towards their goal.

They stepped carefully through the mass of lifeless bodies, what was once friends and acquaintances they had made along their journey to this moment, were now empty shells of their former selves. Tears were shed, silent goodbyes offered as the party looked down into once familiar faces, pained by this new loss that they now had to avenge.

One stopped in their tracks, his eyes fallen to the younger brother he hadn't seen for so long now, as he lowered to his knees, the others gritted their teeth, their knuckles white as they stifled their anguish and gripped at their weapons.

The one who knelt reached down, his fingers lowered the lifeless eyelids before lifting the discarded sword that had passed down his family line, placing it into his now lost brother's hands to rest eternally.

Fresh snow began to flutter from above once more as the man stood again, a new determination in his parties stride now as they grew angry and hateful to this cruel demon that stood patiently awaiting what could only be seen as a feeble attempt to bring it's reign to an end.

The silence grew eerie, still only disturbed by the sound of snow beneath their feet until a shrill laugh escaped the beast that had slain so many.

Only as they got closer had they realized what he stood upon was no small mound of snow covered earth but many bones and skulls that had emerged from beneath.

His cruel smile was tainted with blood, blood they knew was never his own, blood that dripped down his lip, smeared across his chin where he had feasted hastily,

A black cloak hung loosely from his shoulders whilst his skin was bound not in cloth but a demonic suit of armor as black as onyx with crimson tipped spikes in many directions, a devastatingly crude sword held carelessly in his hand as the tip of the blade scraped playfully along the bones beneath his feet.

His voice sang out in a blood curdling tone as he goaded the adventurers into battle, the sun's rise interrupted as black clouds began to shift and form in the skies above, the blues of the sky that offered some comfort had been taken away as a strange eruption of strong winds emerged from behind the demon.

Cries of anger met his laugh as the party began their charge, weapons drawn, the sickening silence was broken completely as a battle that would be spoken for centuries to come ensued.