"Is that all you got?!?!" Barked the angery warrior as he slashed the man in two, ripping the man's torso in a shower of blood from the legs which held it up. As the severed torso fell to the bloodsoaked ruins of sShawodspire, the warrior scanned the lifeless pile of rubble of the once great city of the Abyss. The air was filled with the roar of the flames and the utter silence of the ded. With this he departed from the carnage of his anger.
Amist the flames that engulfed the bloodstained rubble of a once great city, wandered a lone soul. The boy was no more than three and was sudden all alone in the most merciless world of the Abyss. This boy seemed unable to survive this nightmarish land. But, the spirits of the Abyss guided the boy for fithteen long years in the utter black of this forsaken world. After fithteen long years the boy wandered for with godless underworld, into the surface world to face a new challange...
The light mercilessly burned his eye as he stepped from the coldhearted inky black of the Abyss for the first time. He steeped forward, suddenly...CRASH! He fell over something or someone, falling to what must have been a pool of water. He was suddenly soaking wet.
"Hey, watch where your going!, and while your at it...GIVE ME SOME PRIVETCY!" Shouted a vioce.
By now his eyes had adjusted to the rays of the sun's warming light, he looked around at the scenery. He was in a beautiful hidden scen. The opening of the corridor to the Abyss was hidden by a small watefall, which poured into a crystal clear pool of water. The bottom of the pool was covered in rocks dressed in green. The area surounding the pool was lined in a wall of vines, which hid the falls well. The edge of the wall of vines was blessed with many wild flowers. On the edge of the falls was a log which looked out across the pool. There was a small stream of water which led out of the hidden falls.
Looking around he searched for the sourse of the voice. He stopped a beautiful girl laying in the water before him. She was slender and tall, her breasts fitting her figure perfectly. Her skin was pale, her eyes a strange green, with hair as black as the Abyss itself. All he could do was stare at her.
"Hello aren't you going to say your sorry or anything?" Asked the beautiful young elven girl.
The boy hestitated for a moment, then said "Fallis devk tais martonis." The language of which these words originated from was the lost and forbidden tounge of the Abyssal demons. Very few lived who could understand what the boy said, which was, "I do not understand." Although, to everyone who did not know the language, they would think it a curse of death.
Shelooked at him in amazement, he was an Abyssal demon. Luckily for herself, she knew enough of the language to speak to him. She asked her question again in the tounge of the Abyss.
She then asked in that forbidden tounge, "You came from Shadowspire right? But...that's impossible...that city was destroyed fithteen years ago...then what is your name?"
The boy answered slowly in this lost language, "I am Vennace Mortalis Necrossis."
The elven girl stared at him in shock, she'd been set to marry this boy when she was born. She'd lived for fithteen years without hope of ever getting to know love. She looked at the water, lost in thought. Her whole life had been clouded by the destruction of the city. Her parents were good friends with the royal family of Shadowspire, they wanted her to marry a Necrossis so badly. They taught everything they could to prepare her for that day, praying one still lived. She looked up at him and told him in the tounge of the Abyss, "I am Affienna...could you let me finish my bath, then we can talk..." She looked up to see had gone before she'd finsihed her sentance. She thought for a moment, maybe it was for the better he didn't stay.
Several months after that day Affienna had descided to forget Vennace. She was busy tending to the shrine in which she lived in. She scrubbed the ancient stones carefully, humming to herself. Although, the image of Vennace kept filling her mind. His tall slender form with the sturdy build, the white silk warrior's robes which partly covered a chainmail shirt beneath them. The leather belt which sucured his many pouches to his waist and slung a large sword to his back. The long leather vambraces which encased his arms for most of the way. The black leather leggings which held his legs tightly, and the boots which held his slender and powerful legs and feet within them tightly. But most of all, the long silver hair which was tied into a ponytail and flowed down his back, and not to mention the cold, wild, and untamed silvery orbs which pierced all who gazed into them down to the soul with their stare.
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