[b]DAY 26: KIRISNAKA – NOT JUST A FOX[/b]

For a few days the hunter had been roaming in the woods. He hadn't had much luck hunting and it did bother him that he hadn't been able to get meat, but at the same time, he was content that he had got time to himself, just nature and him. This is what hunting was like, you had good days and bad days and a skillful hunter accepted this fact. He had enjoyed his trip to the woods and even though he returned empty-handed, it hadn't been a waste of time. There was something magical in a place that was devoid of human life and the hunter respected the undisturbed land.

The hunter was making his way through the forest, heading to his home village. There wasn't much distance left, he would probably reach the settlement by nightfall. The sun was setting, its golden rays still infiltrating through the leaves and branches of the trees. The man could still see well and he hoped that he would manage to get out of the woods before the sun would disappear completely. This wasn't the world of humans and you never knew what lurked in the dark forest. He was a great hunter, had been honing his skills pretty much throughout his whole life, and one of the important lessons was that you had to be aware of other hunters as well. Staying vigilant was a key to survival.

Encountering a pack of wolves, a bear or a lynx was something he had experienced before, but there were always risks when meeting these dwellers of the forest. Though often they respected you if you respected them. The hunter was aware of the danger that might come when meeting these beasts, although he personally hadn't felt threatened. However, he had heard stories from his grandfather where the hungry animals would attack humans and even his grandfather had got attacked as well.

To be aware of all beings in the forest, whether they were prey or predators, that was the most important thing to keep in mind when traversing in the woods.

And so the hunter had been strolling forward carefully, making as little sound as possible. Doing this actually paid off, because he managed to spot a living being. He got just a quick glance at first, but then he crouched down and took a few silent steps closer to the place where he had seen the animal.

He could see a fox. It was currently eating a rabbit, which is probably why it hadn't noticed the hunter's presence. Just for a moment he stared at the fox, because this individual had one of the most beautiful furs he had ever seen. It just had the beautiful hues of reddish-brown color and the sun's rays gave it a radiant golden shine to it. The hunter knew right at that moment that he could sell that pelt with a high price. He had to get it. Carefully with quiet movements he began to set his bow. He took an arrow from his quiver and soon he was ready to shoot.

He took the aim.

Then he shot the arrow.

It darted through the air so fast that it was impossible to follow with an eye. Its sharp tip sunk deep into the fox's neck and the animal fell on the ground. It didn't move anymore. A feeling of triumph conquered the hunter's heart as he realized that he had hit the fox successfully. He waded through the bushes and hurried by the fox's side. Its fur looked even more gorgeous up close. It seemed like his hunting trip hadn't been a complete failure after all.

But just before he was about to touch the fox, its head suddenly turned to face him, its unnatural silvery eyes staring right at him. This was a complete shock to him; this animal was supposed to be dead! And the eyes, foxes weren't supposed to have such eyes!

“One arrow isn't enough to bring me down!” the fox said mockingly.

The hunter flinched and took a few steps backwards. This wasn't normal, this wasn't normal at all! With horror he watched how the fox got back up and it looked him directly in the eyes, a wide grin on its face.

“You… You're a devil!” the hunter shouted as terror kept filling his soul.

“Of course I am”, the fox said and stepped closer to him, its head tilted in a twisted way.

This was too much for the man and he swiftly turned around and began to run away. The echo of the fox's laughter haunted his ears as he fled from the scene as fast as he could.

The fox looked amused as it stared at the direction where the hunter had gone.

“Well, that got him going”, it said to itself.

Now this pesky arrow had to get removed. The fox headed to the direction where it had come from, looking for its subordinates. Because it wasn't just any strange fox.

It was the immortal queen Kirisnaka.



[b]DAY 27: SERENATH – SPREAD THE MADNESS IN THE NAME OF YOUR LORD[/b]

Serenath was slowly making his way to the small village. But he wasn't using any road, no, he was traveling on water. He was walking on the lake's surface as if it was a firm path, his steps creating ripples. Anybody could have thought that this was strange, seeing a man walk on water, but since it was dark time of the day, no one noticed his approaching presence. But in Serenath's eyes, the heaven had burst open; it was like somebody had slashed the night sky, making it bleed golden star dust, the scar was above the settlement. Faint white swirls were dripping through the wound on the sky. It was like a marker to the man that this was the village where he had to go next.

Creatures of the abyss were swimming underneath Serenath. They were hideous and deformed and they seemed very excited at that moment. It was like they were encouraging Serenath to commit atrocities. Their claws and spikes and red eyes would occasionally rise to the surface and dance around the man. And just like the phenomenon in the sky, the forms of the monsters from the depths remained invisible to the common men. No one was aware of the danger that was approaching their village.

The waters turned black as soon as Serenath stepped on the stationary land again. The creatures returned to their abyss and Serenath was alone once more. He was standing before the first buildings of the village. In his eyes they were all black like the void and there were appendages made of shadows that tried to reach for the dark heaven. Maybe they wanted to have a drop of the golden star dust. As Serenath was standing there, he knew that he had to cleanse this settlement from its impurities. And so he began to walk forward, ready to face the sinners of the village.

There were eyes in the shadows, watching his every movement. Maybe they were curious about his intentions, maybe they wanted him to succeed in purifying this place. Or maybe they were against him, but weren't strong enough to hinder him. But under their surveillance he kept going forward, taking his sword out of its sheath. Purple flames engulfed the blade, ready to taste blood and flesh.

Serenath came upon the first people. They looked at him, confused, and before they realized that the foreign man was a threat, Serenath had already slashed open one man's chest. A flow of a crimson wave spurted to the night air and the liquid turned into crimson butterflies that gracefully flew towards heaven. Then he moved onto the next target and with a clean slice he cut a woman's head off. It rolled on the ground and turned into the shrieking head of a monster. At the same time, a golden shower burst out of the cut neck and it turned into a gorgeous golden bird that soared to the sky. Serenath proceeded further into the settlement while the eyes watched him.

As he made his way to the center of the village, he encountered more and more people. It didn't take long for them to understand that he was there to kill and a lot of the people ran away from his hungry blade. He didn't chase after them, his mission was to clear out this place from all the filth and if the people would decide to flee, he accepted that. There were a couple of those types of people who tried to play a hero, but they all would meet their demise as soon as they confronted Serenath. His fiery blade would cut their bodies as easily as if they were made of paper. The color of crimson began to conquer both earth and heaven as the liquid stained the ground, and the butterflies filled the dark sky. And while the numbers of the village's dwellers continued to diminish, the buildings started to gain the pure color of white and a holy light would shine on them. This was an indication to Serenath that he was doing things correctly and it encouraged him to continue.

Serenath wouldn't stop until every single building had turned white. In the end he was standing at the center of the village, enjoying the radiance he had brought. He had banished darkness successfully and even the eyes that had observed him had disappeared. He was basking in the light he had made happen. He could feel how pleased his master was.

[i]“Well done. Now, go forth and slay the wicked men of Sephranon.”[/i]



[b]DAY 28: PALEFACE – BATTLE TO DEATH[/b]

General Grunsig was one of those Nightfolks that had never acknowledged Paleface as an equal because of the color of her fur. But since Paleface had dealt with this kind of discrimination her whole life, she had tolerated this for a good while. She had grown a tough hide over the years and so she had served general Grunsig like a true soldier, trying her best to ignore how poorly he treated her. Nightfolks in general were excellent at controlling their emotions and were able to act rationally, no matter the situation. But even they had their breaking points and one day, Paleface reached hers.

Nightfolks happened to be at war with other creatures called Windfoxes. The troop led by general Grunsig was supposed to attack one of the encampments of the enemy. This mission was supposed to be carried out at midnight, since the Nightfolks excelled at fighting during night time. With their dark furs they were able to merge in with the darkness – except Paleface whose fur was white. But she used a mask, so she was just as efficient as the rest of the troop. Besides, she was stronger and bigger than most and was a valuable part of their company. Although Grunsig didn't see her as worthy, a lot of the other members of the troop thought that Paleface was an excellent warrior.

Their attack on the Windfox encampment went smoothly. Nightfolks had surprised them completely and so their fragile formation was quickly destroyed. But general Grunsig made a mistake; he let a Windfox officer get away and disappear into the night. It was their plan to capture that officer so they could try to get important information out of him. This specific Windfox had managed to paralyze the general for a moment, long enough that he successfully escaped. Paleface and two other Nightfolks had seen this and tried to go after the enemy officer, but he was long gone – they were extremely fast beings. Although the mission was otherwise a success, Grunsig had been furious. And of course, he blamed it all on Paleface – even worse was that he did this in front of the whole company. This injustice angered Paleface so much that she had finally had enough. She wouldn't tolerate more discrimination from him.

So the next night, Paleface sought the general out. The full moon was making her white fur shimmer and her eyes were blazing as she was walking towards the tent of the general. It had been founded a little bit farther from the tents of the soldiers. Determinedly Paleface marched inside the tent, not caring about required courtesy. General Grunsig had been examining a map before she came in and when he heard her heavy steps, he turned around to face her.

“What are you doing here?” Grunsig asked and there was a tone of annoyance in his voice and he didn't even try to hide it.

“I won't tolerate more humiliation and discrimination from you”, Paleface responded challengingly. “I'll challenge you to a fight to the death.”

General Grunsig looked at her as if she had gone mad. Then the irritation came back to him. “Fine. If you want to waste your life, then so be it.”

Paleface walked out of the tent. Grunsig soon followed, holding his axe. Some curious Nightfolks noticed that something was going on at the general's tent, and bit by bit they started to gather around to make a crowd. They would be witnesses, making this fight official. They had brought torches so the battle arena was well lit. Paleface took her own axe from the holder behind her back and her eyes were set at the general.

“Come. Let's make this quick”, Grunsig said.

He still didn't believe that she could be a match to him. This only fueled Paleface's rage and her axe was guided by that force. She made her first move. She ran towards Grunsig and prepared to strike. She swung her axe with a great force at the general, but Grunsig defended himself with his weapon. However, he had underestimated Paleface's strength and her might had faltered him a bit. Gaining confidence from this, Paleface kept swinging her weapon, pounding against the general's defenses and was able to keep him at bay.

Clash of steel filled the night air as the two Nightfolks were battling with each other, deciding who was stronger and would live to see the next day. Grunsig was clearly having trouble as Paleface had turned out to be a ferocious opponent. The general barely managed to deflect her attacks and he had no time to make offensive moves. Then came the strike from Paleface's axe which forced Grunsig to fall on his knee. This was a bad position to be in and he tried to get back on his feet as soon as possible. But Paleface was too fast and so she made the fatal move; she struck her weapon at Grunsig's right shoulder and cleaved part of his upper body, blood gushing out. He lost his ability to hold a weapon and then Paleface hit her axe at his head. So great was her strength that almost his whole head split in two. Paleface wrenched her axe out and Grunsig's dead body fell to the ground, blood staining the grass beneath him and his brains spilling out.

Paleface had won. She struck her axe to the corpse one more time, this time to the chest. Her hand infiltrated the dead general's ribcage and she dug out his heart. Forcefully she ripped that out and held it in her hand, showing it to everyone who was watching. It was the sign of her victory. Then she ate it, gobbled it up in no time.

That was the day when she earned the respect of her company. She became the new leader and this troop of Nightfolks would follow her.



[b]DAY 29: TYRKAON – MACHINEGUN MAJESTY[/b]

The sky had turned crimson. It was an omen of something horrible and a lot of the dwellers of the cursed land were covering in fear – although there were also those who were celebrating this. Blood would be spilled, but who were the unlucky ones going to be, no one could say. Most likely the new and lost people would get sacrificed since they didn't know the rules yet. The rest would try to hide and survive in one piece. And perhaps some whose minds were rotten would like to partake in the bloodshed that was going to happen soon. They were eagerly waiting for the sign, their eyes fixed at the crimson sky.

The one who was feared most in this place was preparing himself. Tyrkaon had been enjoying the ominous view from one of the towers of his castle. It had been a sign that today he would hunt. It would be a shame if he didn't do this, it would let down everybody. He had taken his gatling gun, the weapon everyone feared, and had solemnly descended from his tower. Slowly he made his way out of his castle and those few he encountered bowed down to him, fear gleaming in their eyes, but they knew that he had to be respected if they didn't want to end up as his targets.

Tyrkaon marched out of the gates of the castle and came to a courtyard. His heavy steps echoed eerily in the empty space, a howling wind as his companion. A great black and withered tree was standing in the middle of the courtyard. Was it dead or just barely alive, nobody knew, but it had been there always. Tyrkaon knew, because he had been there as well since the beginning. He strolled through the courtyard and bypassed a second set of gates and began to walk towards the settlement that had formed around the castle.

He walked down the hill where his castle was standing. He was in no rush, there was nothing but time, and even with his slow pace he soon made it to the little town. He stopped for a brief moment and lit a cigar before he continued. It just was a habit to smoke cigars while he was out and sowing the seeds of terror. The smell of his cigars had turned into one of the feared warnings that he was close. Tyrkaon was very pleased by that.

The streets were empty, as expected. His lone heavy steps were the only sound and in the ears of many hiding individuals, it sounded like demise. And to feed their fear a little bit more, Tyrkaon decided to shoot the wall of a nearby building. The bullets sunk into the wall and left holes in it. So many walls before that had suffered the same fate, though some had also bloodstains on them as a reminder that somebody got shot there. That itself functioned as a warning sign that something was wrong in this settlement, but people tended to get drawn to buildings when they were lost. And that day, someone did make that mistake, seeking shelter or food from the houses.

They had perhaps thought that the place was just empty. Being new here, they couldn't possibly know about Tyrkaon. A lone man came around a corner of a house and noticed Tyrkaon walking in his direction. He had stopped, looking at Tyrkaon. Now, he probably didn't know anything about this world, but even he could tell that a huge man – well over two meters tall – with a gatling gun wasn't exactly a friendly individual. So he tried to turn around and run, but Tyrkaon managed to hit him with a few bullets before he got to the safety of a building. The armed man was smirking, pleased that a thrilling hunt was on. So he began to follow the man and it was quite easy, because he was bleeding. A trail of blood would lead to him, no matter how fast he was running or if he tried to hide.

Tyrkaon let the man have a bit more of a lead. His target had apparently tried to confuse him by zig zagging around the maze of buildings, but probably wasn't aware that his blood was giving away which paths he had taken. No matter where he was heading, Tyrkaon would find him, eventually. His blood trail was leading him to one of the houses. He had given up running at this point and tried to hide and pray that Tyrkaon wouldn't find him.

But of course he did.

Tyrkaon kicked the door down with his great strength. And there his target was, attempting to tend his wounds, but as soon as the tall man had barged in, he froze with fear. Tyrkaon took a few steps closer to him, a wicked grin on his scarred face.

“Please, don't!” the man squeaked.

But Tyrkaon didn't listen. He pointed his gun at the man and began to shoot him. His firepower was shredding the flesh of the man, spilling blood everywhere. In no time his body was completely mangled up, and his remains fell to the floor, his blood forming a pool underneath him. He was looking at the ceiling with wide eyes, probably thinking why he wasn't dead yet. But Tyrkaon wasn't the one to explain the rules and he just left, leaving the torn man behind.

Once outside again, he looked at the crimson sky. It was almost whispering to him, telling him that it yearned for more blood. Tyrkaon was happy to grant this wish and he began to patrol on the streets again, seeking for more wretches to hunt.



[b]DAY 30: KEIRILNA – FALL OF THE TALON[/b]

Keirilna had been in a deep sleep, but something had woken him up in the middle of the night. A sound had infiltrated through his dreams, pulling him out of the sweet slumber. Somebody was shouting – loud. It was like someone was barking orders. Then he could hear lots of steps stomping around. What was going on? Keirilna opened his eyes and cranked his body up from his bed when one of his comrades, Hewald, barged in, looking completely anxious. For a few seconds Keirilna wondered what was happening, but didn't manage to open his mouth to ask that question out loud, because Hewald had already answered it.

“Wraiths are attacking! And there's a lot of them!” Hewald was shouting, his voice competing with the other loud noises in the background.

“Wraiths?” Keirilna had already stood up and got his sword. “Damn undead fuckers! We have to kill them!”

Hewald simply nodded and took his sword out from its sheath and together he and Keirilna left their room to join in the fight that had broken out. But while they were making their way there, Keirilna's mind was bombarded by questions. They were the proud elite soldiers of Fortress of the Talon; their reputation was well-known around many different corners of Perfect World. Why would Wraiths attempt to attack their fortress when it was clear that they wouldn't win? What were they possibly trying to gain from this? Those wicked beings probably had thought that they could have an advantage if they attacked during the night when most of the soldiers were asleep, but could they really be so stupid to think that would make a significant difference? Such commotion won't go unnoticed and Keirilna was sure that all the soldiers were up at this point to defend their beloved fortress.

But soon Keirilna's thoughts would go on a completely different rail since he and Hewald came upon a large hole in the stone wall where Wraiths were coming in; different kinds of lion-like beings, striped undead monsters with blazing eyes, drakes that mastered fire magic... Both men attacked the intruders fiercely and their weapons tasted the blood of their enemies. They cut off the heads of the monsters and impaled them with their swords. When it seemed like no more enemies were coming from this spot, Keirilna and Hewald started to seek another place where they were needed.

The men ascended to one of the towers and from there Keirilna briefly looked at what the situation was around the fortress. He froze for a moment as he stared into the darkness. There were hundreds or possibly even more Wraiths surrounding Fortress of the Talon. At that point Keirilna knew that they weren't going to survive the night. And still, he was too proud to run away and save himself. No, he would go down with the fortress. He managed to get going again, swearing that he would take with him as many Wraiths as he could.

So many soldiers were running from place to place and the high rank officers were shouting orders. Together with Hewald, Keirilna ran around the fortress in order to give aid to others. They all were fighting bravely, it was in their veins, but still, bodies of their comrades started to pile up as the fight continued. The sheer number of enemies was getting exhausting to the Talon members and more and more of them succumbed to fatigue. There just were too many foes, even for elite soldiers like them. Their fighting spirit was still burning bright in their hearts and so they continued to fight until their very last breath.

The attack of the Wraiths had felt endless. Keirilna knew he had slain a lot of their enemies, but they just kept coming. His energy was running low, his movements were turning sluggish. And yet he was standing before his enemies, his weapon being the end of them. Hewald had died a while ago, which had angered Keirilna and given him more strength to keep fighting. But he knew that the inevitable fate was creeping closer. He would follow his friend soon.

Then it happened. A lion-like Wraith had managed to sneak behind him and had impaled him with its sword. Keirilna groaned from pain as the steel went through his body. It did stun him for long enough for a few more of those beasts to strike their weapons at him. Swords from all directions impaled his body, his blood was flowing as the Wraiths stood there, keeping him locked in a tormented moment. When they finally pulled their weapons out of him, his injuries were too severe and he fell to the ground, bleeding from his multiple wounds. The Wraiths just left him to die and marched further into the fortress.

Keirilna was lying there for a while before his spirit left his body. And when the new day dawned, all his brethren had died as well, except for a few who had managed to escape the slaughter. The famous Fortress of the Talon had fallen and was in the hands of Wraiths from now on.

But it wasn't the end of Keirilna. His strong spirit would live on and find a new vessel. He would fight against the evil forces once more.



[b]DAY 31: RAKKEN – BORN FROM THE BLOOD[/b]

Rak'kram was an evil being that spread chaos and destruction wherever it would go. No one knew exactly where it had come from; some said it had come from another realm while some other people thought it was a creation of an ancient evil god. Whatever its origin was, it was sure it was serving only one purpose: to bring devastation in the world. In the end Rak'kram made a mountain of Akruenan as its nest where it would command critters of darkness to cause mayhem in the nearby region. Occasionally it would join them, to spread terror, but often it just stayed in its nest and observed the world around it.

It was a sure thing that being like Rak'kram shouldn't exist. But it was a powerful entity, so defeating it would require incredible force and courage. A group of heroes made it their objective to slay that wicked beast and they were prepared to die for this cause. They were one of the most powerful warriors and mages in the region and the hope of lots of people rested on their shoulders. They began their journey to Mount Akruenan to destroy the forces of darkness. Rak'kram's subordinates tried to stop them, but they were defeated easily and soon the group of heroes managed to get to the heart of darkness.

Rak'kram was a huge and vicious beast. The group had prepared for a long and exhausting fight and probably so had Rak'kram. It was a fierce battle, definitely the group's hardest ones. The beast's evil magic was difficult to defend against, the mages barely could protect their comrades. But this gave a chance for the warriors to charge at the evil being since it was competing against the mages. Their teamwork was effective and the heroes were encouraged by this, thinking that they had a possibility of winning.

For a while it seemed they were evenly matched. There were times when the beast seemed to be stronger, but then the group would prove it wrong and had the upper hand. It was draining for both parties and with the last bits of their strength, the heroes managed to win. A holy sword was struck right at Rak'kram's head, splitting it in two. The mighty beast fell to the ground and its blood was pouring from its dead body. The wicked beast was no more and so the heroes left the mountain, to make it known that Rak'kram had been slain and it was time to celebrate.

Rak'kram's blood just kept flowing and it streamed down through the small holes in the cavern. The blood would gush down the insides of the black mountain, all the way to the bottom. A lake of evil beast's blood had formed there and more kept coming.

But it wasn't only Rak'kram's blood that was dripping down to the lowest point of the mountain. All its evil power was streaming down as well. And from that vigor, a new being began to take form.

Suddenly a hand appeared from the red lake and a figure of a man soon followed it. Blood was running down his body as he stood up. He had handsome features, pale skin and long hair and silvery eyes. He kept glancing at his naked body for a while, trying to understand what kind of form he had. He was pleased by his beautiful appearance and began to wade away from the red pool.

Rak'kram's evil energy had passed on to a new body. The man could hear the last whispers of the beast that told him his name: Rakken. He was the creature of the night, born from the blood, and so he would yearn for the blood.

He followed a narrow tunnel in the black rock, it was leading him outside. Eventually he reached the entrance and saw the night air for the first time in his life. The world was enveloped in darkness, however it was the gentle kind, soft and brought peace so people could have a sweet slumber. Rakken took a deep breath, inhaling the chilly air. Then he transformed and became an ugly bat-like creature. His dark wings carried him to the night sky and he began his journey to find his purpose.

It was the beginning of a new evil.