The bane of Anoveld

The night was dark, and so was the mood of the guild. All the struggle, all the heartache, all the blood, all the sweat and all the tears had led up to this moment.
They were there, in Anoveld, the very heart fo the Inquisition and tonight was the night it would fall. They would tear it asunder and the power behind the Frisian government would be no more. But first they had a task to do, they had to kill the Black Inquisitor and it would be no easy task.
Every man and woman of them, from the legendary to the newly joined they stood, at this moment all of them equals, all of them just people, doing what was right, what was good, for the world, for everyone.
That was when it happened, the inquisition forced spewed forth from their stronghold, every one of them suited in red, the bright red of Frisia, a colour that since time forgotten had stood for hate and oppression. The soldiers formed up and then came forth their general and their leader.
Their general was a giant of a man, 6 and a half feet tall, clad in armour with a helm forged as a grimaceing demon. In his hand a warhammer large enough that even a troll should struggle wielding it, yet he held it as lightly as a child would hold a twig. It was then he roared, a hideous sound born from the very depths of the pit itself.
He charged, the ground shaking beneath his feet and his army thundering behind him.

Left behind was only their leader, a small man, of average height, of average build, clad in a robe of Frisian red. This man was so innocuous that you'd not even think him out of the ordinary should you see him in the street. Yet this man, because of the power he wielded had been responsible for a reign of terror and evil that had lasted generations.
All he did was stand there.....and laugh.

It was then the guild took action, charging forwards to meet the enemy head to head. Steel clashed upon steel, flesh upon flesh and magic against magic. At first the guild was in disarray, confusion reigned but the heart and passion put forth by a few select guild members.
Drae White and Edward DeBree, both leapt forth with a cry to take down their foe. These two followers of Ankherre brought courage to the guild and spurred the rest of them on to fight, the power of Ankherre flowing through them both to tear the evil asunder. Side by side they slew foe after foe, a light in their eyes like no other as each was determined as the other to acheive their goals and leave here victorious. It was then the battle began to flag, the Frisian soldiers were pressing ever harder and the guild was beggining to fall under it's weight.
It was at that point a fierce battle-cry rung out accross the field, echoing for miles around as the sheer force and passion behind it stunned the Frisian soldiers to silence. It was then that Arkhan Merriks, the man who would become a martyr that day, stepped forth. Sword and shield in handin he charged the line invoking the holy wrath of Amroth as he went and as he hit them. He tore the line asunder as if they were nothing more than straw dolls.
The battle raged back and forth for several hours, each time the Frisian line pushed back and each time the Guild retaliated in likeness, finally beating down their forces to the bare minimum yet still the battle was not won, the Guild needed help, and badly.
During a lull, those of the guild devoted to their gods sat down and did the only thing they could think of, they prayed. And their preayers were heard, seeing the plight of their followers it was then that the gods took pity and gave their own blessings, to turn the tide of this battle once and for all, granting magics of the highest sources they raised their Clerics upwards, turning towards the enemy and each and every one of them knew now, the gods were on their side and they could not lose.

It was shortly after the battle begun anew that the first sign of the God's interventions were made apparent when an explosion of Light erupted from the centre of the battlefield, in it we're Ashanti, Abatha and Nix, the light radiating forth from them and spreading out accross the ground, wherever the light fell it burned the Frisian soldeirs as though they had been lanced by fire, from this light of Life caused the soldiers to flee, but wherever they fled they ran straight into the might of the Gods.
Those that fled north flew straight into the arms of Edward and Drae who stood solid, weapons ready and called upon their Goddess for the power to wreak destruction upon those that would send people prematurely to their deaths, it was then that their very stares struck the Frisians down. Infused with the wrath of Ankherre herself their glares channeled such power that all those soldiers who looked them in the eyes sprouted great wounds accross their chests and their souls were torn from their bodies before they even had hit the floor.
Thos elucky enough to escape the wrath brought down by those ran straight into the waiting arms of August, on her own. They formed a line before her, six soldeirs and 3 inquisitors, confidently they strode towards her, senseing no danger from one lone woman, but then it was the Sea God's turn to intervene. August looked up and rose to her feet, spraying water all around her from a bottle by her side. Wherever that water fell the grass began to ripple, swaying back and forth, eminating like waves from the point she stood and causing the Inquisitors to halt their advance, it was then it happened. The "waves" parted and 8 great tentacles burst forth from the ground, looping themselves around the inquisitors and dragging them, kicking, screaming and writhing down into the depths. It took all of a few seconds, then the remaining soldiers fled in terror.
It was then a great cry was heard, from the southern edge of the field, the small man, the one who'd been laughing at the guild, had strode forth and was laying waste to all before him. He struck down guildmembers left and right, cries of horror and despair rent forth from them as this veritable maelstrom of unholy energy charged them down. Only three members of the AAG remained to block his way. Stood there, facing down the Black Inquisitor himself were Eldoth, Elyas and the Lord Commander Militant himself, Jonah, all 3 stood their ground before this unholy being and before them he showed physical pain. The closer he got too them, the harder it seemed to be for him to walk, that being until he reached their feet, he was on his hands and knees. There these 3 representatives of Law laid a hand upon him each. He recoiled at the touch but they held him fast. It was in turn then, that all 3 leant down and spoke words to him, nobody knows what they said, nobody probably ever will, but when they were done the Black Inquisitor let out a cry of anguish as you head never heard, then just keeled over, as simple as that. No flashy lights, no big burst of holy energy, just some simple words and there he lay, the Black Inquisitor, dead.

The entire battlefield stood there for a second or so, stunned at what they had just witnessed. We don't know how long we stood there, only that we only broke out of it when an impossibly loud, inhuman roar came from the Inquisition headquarters. A demon, near 7 feet tall, an abomination covered in spikes and flames, came striding towards up, tearing all those in it's way to peices. Whether Inquisition, resistance or AAG, it didn't care, it tore it's way through them all. Heading for the one thing it perceived as a threat, the figure stood atop the hill known to us as Arkhan Merricks. The holy light of Amroth radiated forth from him and he stood there, sword and shield in had ready to face this thing head on. As it approached him, Arkhan charged drawing up upon all his energy he bore down upon the demon and with the sound of crashing thunder they clashed. They matched blow for blow, sword met claw and shield met spike, they battled, with the guild looking on. For every second the demon roared, Arkhan roared back. That was until the impossible seemed to happen, the demon landed a blow on Arkhan knocking him backwards almost 20 feet.
Feeling a rush of energy come surging through me, I knew then what I had to do, with Arkhan's life on the line I rushed forth between the two, the voice of the Trickster echoing in my ears. The demon looked upon me and laughed, he perceived me to be no threat to him and I, determined to show him otherwise, called down all the might I could. Silently to myself, I prayed for guidance and help and upon the demon taking another step forwards I felt all the energy of the Trickster flow out of me in all directions. The Demon had stopped in it's tracks and seemed to be straining, but failing to move further. I had it trapped and there was nothing it could do, I felt it fighting to release itself from my control but the might of the gods is stronger than that of the Pit. The strain was showing though, the sheet amount of will required to hold this demon in place was immense and tiring me quickly. I fell to my knees within the next few seconds, but to my amusement so did this demon. But before I could call for help Arkhan was up and stood beside me.
"I can't hold him much longer, he's too strong." I said to him as he walked past.
"You won't have too." Arkhan replied.
As he stepped ever closer to the kneeling demon Arkhan started to recite a prayer:
"Blade with whom I have lived, blade with whom I now die. Serve right and justice one last time, seek one last heart of evil. Still one last life of pain, cut well old friend, and then farewell..."
Upon the "farewell" Arkhan raised his sword above his head and plunged it downwards, impaleing the head of the unholy beast in one swift strike. And with this strike thear was a great roar, the wind swept up to a gale and cracks appeared in the ground spraying outwards in all directions. Arkhan shouted back to us:
"It is done! The power of the Inqusition is broken, this one demon was their focus point and now it is shattered! I bid you all goodbye!"
Mere moments after all this happened there was a great explosion, all those in the area were seared with it's heat, but just as quickly as it appeared, then it was gone. Leaving only a crater and the body of a no longer living Arkhan Merricks. A great sadness overwhelmed the AAG as they fled the field of battle. Only a few of them noticing that as they carried the body of Arkhan away, the sky behind them began to clear, as though the land itself was breathing a sigh of releif.



In memory of Arkhan Merricks, a hero through and through.