RKMBs Forums .::Important::. Writer's Block THE END OF THE MESSAGE BOARD LEAGUE

Yet.

Avatar swung and there was another spray of blood followed by an equally grotesque scream of horror. The demon's dying face was twisted not in rage, not in triumph, not in sardonic glee, but in fear. Fear of the blood-soaked, howling reaver that had torn like a hurricane through his chest.

Four hundred and sixty-one...

The corpses lay piled around Avatar and their blood drenched his body. He had lost track of the time he had spent slogging through black metal and putrid flesh, but he did decide to count the slain. He wished that he had started before he lost his mount.

The number would have been much higher.

The rest of the company began to falter and run as they saw more than half of their number fall. But Avatar was a man possessed and would not allow any of them such an easy escape from their fate.

He brought his axe around and it bounced off a knight's laquered mail, but the force knocked the demon from its feet. It rolled over and whimpered for mercy; pleaded as Avatar stood atop it. He brought the axe down once again, horribly mangling the demon's face and splitting wide its skull. Avatar tried to remove his blade but it had stuck fast in the bone and gore.

The axe had lasted him longer than most others, he cursed and grabbed a short sword which lay nearby. Any weapon would suffice, a slayer takes no preference.

Four hundred and sixty-two...

He had lost Vigrid much ealier in a particularly frantic melee. He had in turn hefted a massive broadsword and continued his wholesale slaughter of anything and everything in his vision. If it was meant to be he would find it again. In truth he cared little if he ever laid his eyes upon the scythe, it was a painful reminder of what he had lost and why.

In the slight pause granted by the fleeing troops around him, Avatar began to feel his exhaustion and his pain. His breath came in short ragged gasps and the protruding white bone told him that his right arm was hopelessly broken.

He saw the troops being regrouped and turned by their commanders to once more assail the "Red Reaver" as Avatar had heard some of the demons refer to him.

There was no cantrip or spell this time to save him. He knew he was going to die.

He knew he deserved it. He knew he had been wrong; had seen the results of his actions.*

Avatar knew that only hell awaited him, but he could take as many of the demons as possible back there with him. He wiped the blood from his brow and remembered his fair Delilah. He would never see her again, her pure soul would recoil in horror from his dark taint. For all he fought against the demons, he had become one of them now.

He raised his sword in his left hand and shouted his pain to heaven. He fought the evil that was himself and knew that no redemption could be found.

"Blood and souls! Death for my dark lords!"

Avatar lept forward with insanity in his eyes. Madness claimed his heart as he laughed at his destruction.

Four hundred and sixty-three...

Four hundred and sixty-four...

Four hundred and sixty-five...