Legend+of+Soulovas

The rock and the tree, two objects that will forever be stained in Ouryn’s mind

Even the villege were he was a gate to his past, and here now he is a god to sum. How could this be.

He sat apon a rock looking over the coast of Itis, it’s city burned in blood and death. Was it his fault, he was the guardian. He let the Elven army run threw the streets of Itis and take hold, were else would this go. Would they take the remaining island. He could not let this happen.

He stood up and ran up the steps of the guardian tower. He burst threw the barrack doors, all of the guards turned around, alarmed by the entrance. “We cannot let the elven warriors continue to raid us any longer” Ouryn spoke. He wasn’t as young as he used to be. As his men dressed him in armor his old bones felt the weight of the steel, and the weight of the men he killed while were this armor. As he grabbed his blade, and petty Fisherman came his running threw the door. “The eleves; their here” The man collasped to the floor with and arrow sticking out of his back.

The sound of ship horns echo crossed the water. The battle had came to them. Ouryn walked out to the peak and looked over the waters. Over a hundered ships were reaching the coast line of Soulovas. His archer stood with their bows ready amming down apon the ships. This was the first time, in such a long time, that Ouryn felt affraid

“Archers” He bellowed “Arrows at the ready.” They each reach for an arrow, the motion seemed so slow to Ouryn. Suddenly a large rock slammed into the side of the peak. The ground began to shake and cracks ripped through the ground “The peak is falling” and ancher yelled as the ground fell under his feet.

Ouryn started to run, as fast as he could, his armor weighting him down. Then we was light, suddenly he was floating. The peak had completely broken off the side and feel towards the water. Ouryn seemed to just float in the air, but he was falling. A rush of water jumped over him casting in under. His reached for a falling comrade who was washed away. A wave picked him up and trusted him onto the rock beach. His back buckled over a rock.

Stubbling for his blade Ouryn, let out a scream in pain. Mulitple Eleves look in his direction. Ouryn picked himself up and stood bent over. A large blade swung over his head. He pulled up to block it and punched the elven in the stomach. Another blade head for his side he kicked away with his metal boots and drove his sword into the head of the attacker. He start to limp his way up the shore line as in arrow struck him in the back. He fell to his knees, his face planting into the sand. He pulled himself to a rock and turned around, just as another arrow caught him in the heart. He eyes began to role. He looked around and saw a tree, the tree and the rock.

Many months later Kylara the Guardian who stepped down for Ouryn was force to take back the position, but she was old. After many years of protecting she had grown tired and sick. Her Guards kept her in the throne room, sitting in her chair, almost lifeless. One night a man and women came and offered their sick son. Kylara guard Synther showed them into a room. At the end of the room stood a statue whos eyes glowed red. When Synther came back, the baby lay alone on the floor, a cut over his heart.