A man sat at a bar, staring at the world through his half empty glass of ale. The ruckus of the tavern echoed behind him, but the man did not hear them, he just stared at his glass. He didn’t have to look to be able tell that this place was full of filth, the smell of sweat and old beer told him as much. He could feel the grime surrounding him and trying to envade his soul. The screams and curses sounded like the wails of lost souls, he wasn’t far off. How he wanted to cleanse away the scum, banish it to the afterlife and bring order to this chaotic world. He remembered the first time he tried to rid the world of evil, those silver eyes staring at him with a sense a helplessness. He knew it was just a ruse; their kind lied and twisted the inds of men. He knew he would get his chance again to destroy Josan; he had left a trail even a five year old could follow. He would send that demon spawn back to the dark comers of the afterlife. He smirked to himself, how he would finish what he started, build his army and destroy the rest of the evil which infected the world.

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The bartender eyed the stranger suspiciously from the other end of the bar. He looked average enough, he was dressed in simple yet well cut traveling clothes. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary expect the air surrounding him seemed to crakle like a thunderstorm. The man had been sitting there for almost four hours drinking the same glass of ale. The bartender moved towards him; he would have to buy another drink or be thrown out. The bartender stood in front of the man with a scowl.

“You going to buy another, or watch that one all night?” he asked in a gruff tone.

The man looked up casually from his glass, “No, I’m fine, now leave me alone.”

“Now look here, either buy another or get out. I’m not running any shelter here,” the bartender spat.

The man looked back up at the bartender with only a superior smirk. In a flash the man grabbed the bartender’s tunic, slammed him down onto the top of the bar and held him fast. The bartender could do nothing, he could hardly breathe. This man had surprising for his size.

“What did you say, fatty?” the man asked with a cold humorous tone.

Across the room the two bouncers stood against the wall, their job was to keep the patrons from getting out of hand. Both were large men, well over six and half feet tall, with huge corded arms. When they saw the man at the bar assaulting their boss, they made their way though the crowd, throwing and pushing people out of their way. Both were veterans of bar brawls having started a few themselves. They walked up behind the stranger, flanking him and each placing a hand on the man’s shoulders.

“I think you should let go of our boss, little man,” one of the bouncers said with a gruff voice.

“I don’t think he listens very well, let’s help him understand.” the other bouncer said.

They both reached down to grab the man’s arms to pull him out of his seat. The man released the bartender as a eerie calm came across his face. The two brutes started to pull the stranger away when his hands blurred. Two daggers suddenly appeared in each of his hands. In a moment both men slumped to the floor, blood flowing from their bodies. The bartender stood there with his jaw hanging open, his eyes barely in their sockets. He could not believe what he just seen. This man had just killed his bouncers without barely moving. The man stood up from his stool and smiled wickedly at die bartender. The bartender staggered back against the wall. The man reached across the bar and grabbed the bartender by me front of Ihe tunic again and pulled him in close.

“A man will travel through here in a few weeks, he wears a hood and carries a pair of swords like this,” he said, as he pulled one of his swords from his back and placed it on the side of the bartender’s face. “When he comes here, you tell him what you saw and tell him who I am,” the stranger said.

“Who…Who are you?” the bartender said with quivering voice.

“My name is Vander. You make sure you tell the man when he arrives here. Make sure that you tell him, or I will be back,” Vander said as he sheathed his sword.

The bartender could not get words out of his throat; all he could do was nod. Vander released him and smiled

as he turned for the door. The people who witnessed the bouncer’s quick deaths stayed clear of his path.

Vander reached the door and was about to leave when a sudden impulse seized him. He spun around and looked for the source of the strange feeling, his eye were drawn to an odd looking man sitting in the back of the tavern with his head down. Not knowing why Vander felt the urge to walk over. He slowly made his way towards the back of the tavern where the stranger sat, his feet moving more of their own accord than by his will. Cautiously he

reached back and grasped one of his swords. The man still had not moved, showing no notice of Vander’s approach. The man was small and frail looking with boney arms and a reed thin body. Vander knew this man made to be a wizard of some type, it explained his stranger feeling. The man was using magic to get his attention. Vander mgic users, they were aggront and cowards in his eyes. The man wore the robes of his trade, but they had a design printed upon them which Vander had never seen before. It was linear patten of spirals and swirls which seemed to move throughout the garment. Vander could not tell whether the designs themselves moved or just an illision. The man was bald and had the same odd spiral design tattooed on his head. Vander reached the edge of the table and fixed a deadly glare on the wizard. “What do you wanuwizard?”

“Master Vander, please sit. It would be a great honor to share a drink with such a noble man.”

Vander eyed the strange man suspiciously as he sat down, never taking his hand from his sword.

“I saw how you dispatched those brutish thugs, a just reward for them. I knew them both, they were evil hearted men who deserved their fate.”

“How do you know who I am?” Vander said with a glare.

The wizard sat back in his chair and smiled. “I know much about you, Master Vander. I am somewhat of an admirer of yours.”

Vander let go of his sword and sat back, “So what do you want.”

“It’s not what I want but want I can give you. Like you I wish to purge this world and together I believe we can accoplish this feat. We can build an army and march across the land delivering justice.” The wizard said animatedly.

“I’m listening.” Vander said.

“With your leadership and skill combined with my power we could build the greatest army the world has ever seen and destroy the evil that plagues our world.” the wizard finished.

“So we would be partners then?” Vander asked with an icy tone.

“No, no, I would be only an advisor. I do not have the talent for leadership you posses and could not possibly control an army,” the wizard said.

“Why do you want to help me?” Vander asked.

“ I too lost my family to the hethan darkness that corrutps this world,”

Vander sat back in his chair thinking over the proposal and examining the strange man. He truly did want to build an army and desperately wanted even more to destroy Josan. This man might be the key to his goals and if not, if this man ever became a problem, he could always despose of him.

“What is your name, wizard?” Vander asked firmly.

“I am known as Parlon and I am at your command, my general,” Parlon answered.

“Well Parlon, I leave in the morning. Meet me at the west gate and we will start our cleansing of the world.” Vander commanded.

“Very well. General, I will be there.” Parlon said with a bow.

“I must attend to some things before, so I’ll take my leave. Maybe I’ll see you in the morning?” Vander said as he stood.

“Yes, General,” Parlon said.

Vander walked out of the tavern with his shoulders held high and his future looking bright. He would build his army and crush anyone who stood in his way. He still didn’t trust Parlon but decided that he should at least give him a chance to see if the wizard could help him destroy the evils of the world. Yes, he would finally face Josan one last time and with a real army behind him. Vander could not hide the broad smile spreading across his face as he left the tavern.

Parlon sat very quite as Vander left. He studied his new pawn as he walked out the door. He had him. Vander was so willing to fight for what he believed in he was blind to everything else. Vander would be nothing but a puppet, easily disposed of when the time was necessary. Parlon let out an unearthly laugh, thinking about how gullible humans were. He sat for a couple of moments watching the patrons of the bar go back to their drinking and cussing, staring with silver eyes.

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