[12/21/2005]
Rakhul's blade sliced deep into the demon's arm. The demon dropped his axe, roaring in agony. His left hand clutched his right, blood smearing his fingers immediately. The pain in his arm cried out to him, but before he could ease it in any way, he was greeted by a new level of pain, this time from his stomach. He looked down at his abdomen,to find Rakhul's blade sticking out from his torso. Black blood dripped from the tip of the troll's blade, staining the dusty ground below. Rakhul contemplated on his victory over this foul beast who had ravaged his village two nights ago. Just as he smiled, a soft sound made it disappear as quickly as it came. The troll struggled to pick up that sound, his long, pointed ears twitching. The grove was supposed to be silent at this hour, and the nearing footsteps made him shiver in fear. Though audible, Rakhul could make out the gracefulness in the footsteps, and this puzzled him all the more. The green-skinned warrior pulled his sword from the demon's body and turned towards the footsteps, his blade held in a defensive position.
Tales of horror and fear began to haunt the panic-stricken troll, as he recalled one particular tale, of a dark walker of the night. Related to him by his teacher, who barely survived after an encounter with the dark wanderer, Rakhul was told that the wanderer had spared his life for a reason, which was that he needed a pair of gauntlets to be made, and that he had chosen his disclple, Rakhul himself, to do the task. To the young troll, this story haunted him for many nights, and finally, he thought to himself, that this day had arrived.
Just as he prayed to the gods to forgive his soul, a gale howled throught the trees. The hairs on the troll warrior trembled in the wind as a shadow loomed up before him. Then, he saw him...
A silhouette of the wanderer met Rakhul's eyes, as the moonlight danced upon his coat, revealing every detail of the stranger. He had long black hair, which ended at his waist. Streaks of purple ran along it, contrasting with his silky black hair. He stood tall, with a long black coat covering his well-built frame beneath. He wore metal chain boots on his feet, but how this stranger could tread with silence and gracefulness puzzled Rakhul. His face, however, shocked the troll. His face was completely pale, and his eyes were extremely unique, his orbs being a weird mix or both red and blue, which in the moonlight, glowed brightly. He had dark eye rings beneath those beautiful eyes, which were produced not from fatigue, but from another source the troll could not tell. His features were sharp and clear, with his thin lips ending in a smile which brimmed with malice.
The stranger spoke, a deep voice emitting from those pale lips,
"Rakhul, why do you shiver at the sight of me? Does my appearance frighten you?Hmm?" The stranger's smile grew wider.
Rakhul jumped at the stranger's knowledge of his name. He held his blade in front of him, in hopes that it would save him from this...this...person?
The stranger spoke again, only this time, the malicious grin was nowhere to be found.
"Why, the most talented troll blacksmith is in truth such a coward? Such a pity..."
Rakhul had heard enough. He would not allow this being to insult him or his race. He would slay this stranger, or at the very least, die trying. He raised his sword high and charged at this black cloaked stranger which his teacher had given the nickname - 'Death Who Laughs'.
The cloaked stranger did not move, a sardonic smile stretched across his lips.
"You wish to slay me? Insolent fool..."
He pulled back his left hand for a moment, before swinging his left palm, where a huge mass or purple energy had gathered. The energy cut through the air, before smashing right into Rakhul's bare chest. Thrown off his feet by the impact, Rakhul smashed into an oak behind him. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he fell to the ground. Dazed by the impact, the troll reached around for his weapon, which had proven to be of no use against this dark foe. Regaining his senses, he looked at his chest. To his shock, he found no wounds or marks on his chest. Surely it had hit me, he thought to himself.
The stranger gave a brief laugh before advancing toward the troll. Rakhul's gaze met his, but before he could get a firm grip on his sword, the stranger flicked his index and middle finger towards the sky, lifting the troll off his feet.
"I have need of you, Rakhul." His name echoed through the forest, making him feel all the more frightened. "I believe your teacher had spoken to you about my, 'proposal'. i need you to make a right gauntlet which would amplify my powers by hundredfold. What do you say about this?"
"No-" Rakhul struggled to speak, despite the sharp pain in his chest. "I would never render my services to a demon like yourself..."
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...Demon? You are actually ignorant enough to place me in the same category as those monstrosities, or is that purely foolishness? You underestimate me, Rakhul...I shall give you one last chance to change your pathetic mind. Would you aid me, or refuse your chance of living?"
Rakhul's eyes stared back at the stranger as he made his reply,
"Never! Die as I might, I shall not taint my race's reputation by aiding you, whoever you may be!"
"I see, you still have no knowledge of who I am..." The stranger's lips curled into a malevolent smile once again. "I shall make the truth known to you..."
He snapped his fingers, and immediately, Rakhul felt a searing sensation from with him. It felt like a fire was raging within him, boiling his blood and scorching his heart. He roared in agony, as he tried to ease the scorching madness. The more he tried to fight the pain, the more it spread, the smouldering heat urning every inch of his body. As he struggled to get out of this fiery nightmare, he heard the stranger's laughter. It was cold and ruthless, and the smile on his face has warped from that of malice to pure sadism. He was certainly enjoying this, and would definitely not stop, unless......
[Comments] // [I...am...the...Death...Who...Laughs...] // [9:31 AM]