(Work in progress)

It was night and the stars filled the dark blue clear sky. A large winged shadowy creature flew swiftly threw the sky and down towards the land so low that it clipped the roof of an old country tavern and knocked some hay threw the air, by the time that the hay landed back down onto its resting place the creature was gone.

The tavern dimly lit up the surrounding area to show it to be one of the only few structures around these parts which was probably a good thing, because on this night, like many others, there was something going on inside.

The many patrons of the tavern were up in a roar as a man was sent busting threw a table and onto the floor, the large man known as Yuullmawg quickly rolled back over, grabbed a hunk of meat off a chicken leg, tossed it in his mouth after slopping it threw some spilled gravy and jumped to his feet, brushing off the splinters and rubble as he charged back at his attacker.

Jumping to the side, the small man known as the attacker, but known to most as Nempaal, dodged the larger mans chase, and as Yuullmawg stumbled past Nempaal a strange force pulled away at Yuullmawgs feet and sent him back down to the ground.

After the fall, the effects of smashing his head off of the wooden floor quickly took effect and a headache more painful than a daggers stab enveloped his mind, but yet again slowly rising to his feet, Yuullmawg wasn't ready to give up.

Fighting threw the pain he charged once more at his opponent, quickly pulling out his steel hammer from under his cloak as he did so, and took a swing, just narrowly missing Nempaals left shoulder.

Turning back around he felt a quick slap to his face and the hot slicing of skin as he could instantly smell his own blood. Using his free hand he lifted it up to his face to wipe the blood away which was beginning to pour from a small slice across his left cheek.

The weapon that made the mark wasn't seen by any, but Yuullmawg knew this would be so, he knew his opponent had the power, not all did, like himself, but some did, and it was always a force to be reckoned with no matter what it ended up being.

Lunging back towards Nempaal, Yuullmawg tossed his hammer directly at his face and connected, the mallet side catching him on his forehead and knocking him back into a chair which busted under the force of his fall.

Nempaal, who wasn't trying very hard and now after suffering an unnecessary wound, wanted to end this silly game as soon as possible and with the flick of his eyes he began to do so.

Followed by the flick of his eyes, a wind filled force rushed across the room as Nempaal jumped to his feet and spun around kicking another one of these forces his foes way.

Feeling this force constrict around both his ankles, Yuullmawg suddenly was thrust upwards into the air towards the ceiling until his feet smashed off an old solid wooden beam where he came to a bouncing stop and hung there upside down by his feet, "Nempaal you cackin' rat, let me down from here or I'll beat your mo...".

The doors of the countryside bar suddenly crashed open followed by a small group of dirty looking soldiers who quickly marched in and fell into line, one stepped in after the rest, looking more official than the others.

Walking straight to the bartender behind the lean too counter the man held out his hand which had a small leather sac held in it, the bartender knew it was for tax collection and didn't want anymore trouble after the fight that had just taken place so he quickly grabbed the sac and walked to the back of the bar.

A hush fell over the tavern patrons as their entertainment for the night came to a halt and they were interrupted by the so called kings men.

Glaring around the large room, the soldier began to fish threw his cloak as he fetched a parchment, pulling it out and unscrolling it, he began to read it allowed, "In the name of the king, all males of at least the age of 16 who are willing and able are required to enlist into the ranks of the kings army and help the king vanquish his enemies".

Silence continued to creep over the room as the parchment was put back into the soldiers cloak, waiting for no one to step forward as he knew none were willing to march to their death.

Hearing the noise of gold pieces clanking around he turned his head back towards the bar, the bartender came from the back room with the leather sac, now full to the brim with the so called tax collections for the king.

Most wouldn't make it to him, some would, but not much of it, most would go to ale and women.

Taking the sac from the man the soldier began glancing around the room, his eyes stopped upon Nempaal, who may be small but was clearly fit for a fight, the man shot his hand out and pointed directly at Nempaal and then towards his men who were still standing at attention.

Nempaal, who for a second wished to drop his head and show his sadness, knew that he had to hold his head up high and take what he was dealt, and so he did. Raising his head and cocking his neck, Nempaal walked towards the line of soldiers who had already fallen in and stood with his back to them and started a new line.

After he did this the soldier was about to point to someone else when another man stepped forward before he had the chance, and another, and 3 more, they all knew there was no sense in fighting, if they fought and won the fight they knew that a whole legion would show up the next day and then they would be lucky to live let alone be privileged to be drafted into the ranks of the kings men.

And then there was the chance that if they fought tonight they would lose and there would be no alternative to anything, the only result would be death.

As a couple more men fell into line there was a creaking in the corner of the tavern, out of the darkness by a table covered in old unlit candles and dusty old scrolls came an old man, dressed in shambles and rags like a homeless bum, the old man had one distinguishing mark that set him apart from the others, a large golden sword sheath that hung from around his waist which contained a crest.

Not taking much notice to the old man the soldier waited as the rest of the men fell into line, but as he watched he soon saw the old man out of the corner of his eye, and noticed that he was walking towards the line of soldiers and was about to fall in, "Hold it right there peasant, you must be 80 years of age, go sit down and eat some orc shit soup, I hear its good for the wrinkles in your skin!".

The old man just looked at the soldier and stayed standing in line with all the younger much stronger men, smiling his cares away.

In disbelief the soldier continued, "Did you not hear me old man, your hearing going on you with your sanity, get out of line before I'm forced to make you".

Standing his ground and standing up straight the old man finally responded, "Son, I was more of a soldier than you ever will be when your grampa was in your great grandmothers womb, I deserve to be here just as much as the rest of these men so I can serve in the name of the king".

In any normal situation, all of the men who had volunteered would probably have laughed at the comment cause of it coming from such a feeble old man, but they knew that in doing so they would probably lose food rations before they even officially joined the war, so instead they all drew faces of disbelief.

In shock, the soldier just looked at the man while the man continued his rant, "I've fought in more wars than men you've killed, I've killed more men than shits you've taken in your whole life, I've led full legions into battle and came out victorious, I've taken down orc kings, elven warlocks, I've taken on the world, so if I got nothing to do like I don't right now, can't accomplish what I've been trying to do for the last couple years or find my home, and your hiring, I'd rather serve for the king and maybe show him a thing or two about how his great grandfather use to run the armies".

Shock, disbelief, confusion, and to many more feelings to name took over the soldier, he looked down at the old man and noticed the golden sheath around his waist, then noticing the crest, anger flooded over his face he reached out and ripped it from his body, "Where did you get this?".

The old man just smiled, "It's mine, my symbol, I remember when I created that back during the..."

"It's not yours, curses!", the soldier burst out in rage, "this is the symbol of our royal family and you are standing here trying to tell me that this is yours and that this is your symbol and that you are one of the greatest warriors that has ever lived, I should strike you down where you stand!".

"I'm as much a part of the royal family as our king is right now, in fact, without me he wouldn't be where he is today", stubborn and still as serious as he has been since he arose from his chair, the old man didn't back down.

Looking back at the old man, staring at his face, looking him up and down, wagering whether he was serious or not, the soldier has a confused and angry look about his face, "Stand back old man, you've clearly gone crazy and mad in your old age, no sense in causing my brow to sweat over a squabble with you, you wouldn't even make it threw our basic training let alone go into battle and go against our kings enemies, your weak, your worthless, and don't let me ever catch you impersonating royalty ever again or you will have to suffer the consequences!".

Looking back around to all of the other men who had volunteered and who had be conscripted, the soldier waved his hand to the soldiers and the rest of his men rounded up the armies newest members, "Were heading out, reporting right to the training grounds, you'll get to see your family when the wars over".

Fully knowing the war would never end, the soldier didn't flinch under his words and signaled to head out which the small group of men proceeded to do so.

Stopping before he exited the door with royal sheath in hand, the lead soldier turned back around and looked up at the roof, "And before we leave, whoever has a hold on that man hanging from the beam, release him now".

Without showing that he was the one who was using a power, Nempaal gave a little flick of his head and Yuullmawg came crashing down head first threw another table. Nempaal knew the soldier knew someone in the tavern had the power, anyone who walked in and saw Yuullmawg hanging like that would know, but knowing one had the power was just a part of it all.

The soldier, one without power, wasn't one to challenge one with it, in case it was something he and his men could not handle.

Yuullmawg, having already passed out from hanging upside down so long, was knocked out even more from his fall, the soldier again signaling to his men motioned for them to grabbed a hold of Yuullmawg and drag him along with them, he would wake up in a few hours, but by then he would already have been conscripted into the army and would have no escape but death.

As the group of soldiers and new recruits finally left the tavern, the old man looked around to the remaining patrons, none paid attention to his old self, in clear despair, the old man turned and walked away sitting back down in his old rotted wooden chair, way back in the dark web filled corner of the tavern.

The man put his elbows to his knees, his palms to his face, and clenched his lids tight as tears slowly welled up in his eyes. In the silence of his little private corner at his private little table that he had sat at for so many years the bartender was unaware, a quiet murmur went unnoticed, "I don't need that sheath to tell me who I am, I used to be a king dammit, I used to be a king".

And just as unnoticed as the few words he could muster went unnoticed the flickering of his finger tips as he pulled his right hand away from his face and snapped his fingers igniting a small flame between them that danced into a small demon shape no bigger than a pinky toe.

The flame danced its way to the wick of a nearby candle and dove into it, lighting the surrounding area. The old man went back to his scrolls, searching, looking for something no one had ever known even to this day, something he had searched for for what seemed like an eternity, to him at least.

"I'll find my way back, so many years away from home, somehow I'll find a way to get back to when I used to be a king...".