He hasn’t done any thing wrong. If anything, I’m the hopeless one here, of course instilling fear and murdering humans is not right. Plus, waging a full-scale war against them is an unforgiving act. Even so, there’s something I want to change, even if it's built on rocky foundations. I want humans to unite. Even if it's using the coming the next demon lord as a pretext.
Peace cannot be realized on ideals alone.
He's got some real power. If I were to leave things be, this holy sword will vanquish the demon lord of this era. And history will repeat itself. In a world without a demon lord the hero will be considered a threat, his fate will end with him being disposed of or turn into a weapon. Regardless, a lot of blood will spilled.
By the hands of another human being. -- Anon Guest
Prophecy is one hell of a thing. Sometimes literally. Ever since twelve near-illiterate men in chains fled up a frozen mountain. Ever since one of those made a literal deal with a devil, seers and soothsayers have been foretelling the rise of the Thrice-Sworn King, the Demon Lord of the mountaintop. Bound and destined to conquer half a continent.
Prophecies have a way of coming true no matter what. Nevertheless, there are those who struggle against them. Nobody faced with a prophecy like the Demon Lord, conqueror of all, could think that it was a good thing for him to finally turn up.
Safeguards and measures to stop him have been long waiting the heralds of his dread appearance. Including the family sword. It's been imbued with numerous charms to protect the innocent, to never harm the righteous, and to strike at the heart of evil. It is, it must be noted, more than a little bit chatty. Especially lately.
There's very little worse than a weapon with opinions.
"The time is nigh," intoned Doomslayer every night as I tried to gain my rest. "The Demon Lord, the one foretold, walks the earth. You must make haste to the field of combat."
Well it changed from draws breath, so... "He's taken his first steps, has he?"
If you've never beheld an ancestral sword pouting, I can tell you that it's an experience. I was still in training and honestly, Doomslayer had been getting on my nerves. "Fine. Yes. He has." A noise like a whetstone running across fine, Dragon-fired steel, which was how Doomslayer sighed. "And I know we're both sworn to protect children, but this child..."
The old quandry. If one could go back in time and prevent a terrible despot from ever rising to power - was it still ethical to kill them as a baby? Or a child? When was it right to end the life of certain evil?
Nevertheless, I was a long way away from the field of combat, and my training would have to turn onto the road. I would take some time of my work at it as a sellsword, eliminating minor evils along the way.
It took years to get to the foothills near the Greyspire mountains, let alone gain sight of Threespire and the very nest of villainy itself. Whitekeep. The walls may be white, but all their hearts had to be black as pitch, harbouring and protecting such an evil.
I may die in the attempt to alter fate, but it is a noble death.
I found a camp of adventurers some distance from Arilber. They were mostly asleep by the time I got close to their camp. The one on watch had fallen asleep. A Hellkin Martialist meditating nearby opened his eyes. They shone in the dark like embers.
"Hallo," said the devil made flesh. "You're far from home." He rose from his mat and offered a ration pack. "I can build the fire for you if you need the warmth. The weather's closing in and travelling in armour is uncomfortable, ja?"
"You're far from home, too," I noted, accepting the hospitality. Like so many of the devilborn, he took pains to act against the vicious talk about them.
"Not as far as you might think." He added some sticks to the flames and kicked the alleged watchkeeper. "Atchung! We could have been murdered, Rauchig. That's ten more lines for you."
"You are never going to give that up," grumbled the barbarian. "Hello. Who's the old man?"
I offered him my hand. "Moriz Noblesworn. Oathbound to at least try and prevent the rise of the Thrice-sworn King, Demon Lord of those mountains, yonder."
"Go to sleep, Rauchig," said the Hellkin. "Or should I say, back to sleep."
"Shut up," muttered Rauchig, tucking himself into his bedroll.
The devil and I stared at each other through the flames. "So what has this demon done to get you a quarter of the way around the world to kill him?"
"It's not what he's done," I allowed. "It's what he's destined to do. After he rises to power, he marries one dead. Then... he conquers most of the world. You can see how that would lead to rivers of blood across nations. A king of conquest is never kind, rarely righteous, and very often evil. He's been foretold ever since a demon made the keep that place is named after." Doomslayer was silent in its scabbard, but I showed it to the Hellkin opposite. "This tells me how much further I have to go. It's charmed to end only that which is evil."
Without thinking, I drew it. I was prepared for an ominous couplet or two concerning the misty mountain's rise, but instead... "Three paces forward."
The Hellkin was three paces in front of me. A pace to the fire. A pace across the flames, and a pace to where he sat.
He just nodded. "I should have guessed. Gekommen sie, let's do this somewhere quiet."
He didn't run. He didn't fight. He didn't even try to defend himself. Just marched to a clearing where he could see the Mother moon and whispered, "Meine Elisa, I free you."
Then he knelt with his hands behind his back. "I am Kormwind Arachis Felbourne Whitekeep, ninth of the name, blah blah blah... and if the Blood Throne will take me, the next Demon Lord of the realm. If I am truly evil, end it now. But please," his shining yellow eyes pierced directly into mine, "look after my idiots and safeguard my brother. He gets my curse next."
Those were not the words of a conquering warlord. I uttered a prayer for my sword to strike true, and end a great evil before it would commence.
Doomslayer sliced right though him. I did not close my eyes. My aim was true. Yet it did not meet resistance until it plunged into the earth by his knee.
We were all a little more than shocked about that.
"Well. I guess I'm not evil yet. How about you hang around until after I light the chair. Train an apprentice, just in case. You can make sure I don't turn evil."
He seemed weirdly happy about that. So I took up a position in the Whitekeep Castle Guard. Found a boy who could take on the oath, and started training him in the ways of the sword.
Lord Kormwind took his Earl's crown. Married a woman who had been declared dead, yet still lived. And then?
Prophecy.
He had to make war on the Olikents, who were holding his brother's bride ransom. But he did it almost bloodlessly, striking in the night at the lordly leader of the forces who provoked him. It was a pattern he maintained for all of his reign.
Saving soldiers, citizens, and the truly innocent alike.
Honestly, Doomslayer is as baffled by this as I am.
Who could have known that a Demon Lord would be a good thing?
[Image by Jessica Kantak Bailey on Unsplash]
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