Everlasting: "Ardemons Revenge" Hate and betrayal.

Ardemon's revenge : Chapter 1

Ardemon was a man who once lived in a town called Nar'dith, He was an exceptionally medium built man. An olive skin tone, long long brown hair and a very muscular physique. He also has tattoo's down his right arm of a tribal design, He is an excellent swordsmen and big game hunter, he has been known to dabble in thing's beyond his knowledge and that got him into trouble here and there, mostly his large appetite for women. All that aside his main goal had come to him in his past about thirteen year's ago. He had found the love of his life, A woman named Naomi, She was a dream come true.

A wish any man would want in a woman that made her a perfect soul mate for Ardemon. she was unlike any woman that would hunt with Ardemon, sometimes he would leave her behind on his tougher travels. about three years ago, six months of his time had be consumed by a soldiers dying wish to turn the tide of the war, He was to travel to the capital of Talga, a large city named Livga after the first man to govern magic and non magic citizens. His name was Alterius Livga.

He wanted to show the king that the trader he had intercepted had his sword was liberated. He had saw the royal blade and acted first and asked question's later when he saw the black smith named Jules Herkins doing some shady business with a well known con man he took both of them down with a vicious tackle and a right hook to the con man, jules huddled into the nearest corner until the guards apprehended him until he was brought before the king.

now they was brought to justice and he would be rewarded for his quick thinking. After all the king had thought he had given his most valuable keep sake to his most trusted black smith but to spite the king he left in a hurry with the sword to sell for profit.

Once Ardemon had met king Artimis the III, Ardemon was rewarded as he thought, but not in the way of coin. Instead he was presented in to the legion's mass as a squire for a known legendary Hero who wore the title "The Black knight of Hades" his Name was Clayith Benedict, He didn't have a good feeling about this man and it certainly wasn't one of a dark sense but what he learned from him changed his life about being a lone wolf.

He had returned home on a foggy morning, sometimes he had often heard from his wife by messenger, But this late in the month an no reply had him worried, he hurried home to from his training In Rotwell which was north of Livga, a small town roughly thirty six miles away from the next closest city, there are three cities and fourteen villages and that was one district of six that made up the land of Talga.

Once back home in Nar'dith he took his normal path home, At long last he had reached the small cottage he called home. He felt something so silently disturbing it made his sweat sting from the heat emitting from his face. Ardemon entered his cottage and found that it had been raided.
The tension in the air was thick enough to slice iron in half, this had to be the work of bandits maybe a rival of his. He could never tell when things went wrong, he always had enemies where ever he went.

people never stopped their animosity toward him, either over women or his latest find; catch or kill. the people that was suppose to be his friends, his family, conversed over his adventure like it was a contest, the one with the bigger sword or the better aim with a bow usually won, he felt like like he was the talk of the town, but only behind his back. But not one of those so called friend's and family could come to him to tell him they respected him for the man he was as a man. Especially his father who was one of them men who would betray him an turn him into the local authorities for having to many Live stock on his plot of land.

He was going to take care of it as soon as he could gather enough money to buy another piece of land, instead the wardens came and took the live stock and killed what they couldn't take with them.
every fiber wanted to jump out and yell stop but Ardemon kept quite because he didn't want to anger the men. Instead he had an idea of who had done it. Straight to the source to sort it out himself or so he thought.

His father only wanted to see him burn for not selling his land and not giving what was rightfully returned, for his father had let him have the land unknowing it had a mine on it with many mysteries and a great fortune. learning about this he was furious and was angered with his son's beliefs. when he had hit the biggest find in Nar'dith. He wanted his son to pay for being everyones favorite, after all he liked the girl that Ardemon married.

So he kept all intentions of harming his son under the table for all these years, gathering people to side with him under the influence that Ardemon had robbed his poor father and convinced him that the land was just another dirt field with hills and a small ravine and that it is not anything to be worried about.

Naomi was every mans desire in Nar'dith, Not only was she the most attractive woman in his town. But the most attractive girl he had ever seen. Many men would agree, She had long blond hair to the small of her back, Her Green eyes had a soft layer of grey's, blue's, brown's and gold toward the center of her iris. Her thighs met her hips in the most addictive manner.

Down her long legs she had the most interesting tattoo that had been imprinted into her skin by tiny fulmination. A type of magic that shoots tiny flashes of electricity under the skin, each bolt of lightning carrying a pigment of color to stain under the skin with out ink being injected into the skin, so no need for touch ups or worries of it ever fading. the procedure could be reversed but with her personality and a neck for solving trouble the tribe that appeared as an outcast had chosen her to be their next leader. They wanted life with out any type of man made shelter. "No life for the weak but for the strong strive above the others." This is the motto they live by.

She had this way of speaking to people that made them feel at home. She made them feel welcome in an environment she was invited into. No longer will he forget her smile that put him at ease, the way she made him feel. At long last he thought to him self. He woke with a start' sweat slowly dripped down the sides of his temples as he sat up in bed.

He reached over his bed an grabbed his unfinished mug of ale that he had left on the end table, Another late night he thought as he threw his head back and finished the last few drops. Ale dripped down his chin and onto his shirt, his eyes wild with fear but still he drank as fast as he could to drown out screams and sorrow that pulled at his consciousness. He shook off the morning groggy feeling. His balance still unsteady and shaken from last night events.

he frowned at the thought of his mug being empty and he angrily threw it to the floor, looking over at the the empty spot to his left was made neat just the way she had always kept it. His wife would wake up early and kiss him on the forehead and comfort him to show him he had been a good husband. He was often out of a job because of many newer travelers had come into Nar'dith for work or to settle down. he'd often travel far away for random odds and ends work.

Remembering all of it brought him back, He kissed his fingers and placed them on his forehead where his wife's lips felt scotched into his flesh, tears dripped down his cheeks. he placed the fingers to his lips as he sobbed missing his wife's kiss, her touch. He suddenly felt an urge to look out of his window, He looked around before remembering where he was. His room was a simple room, A chair to his left in a corner next to his end table and his bed set on the other side to the left hugging a small window.

A potted plant sat in the opposite corner of the room; Ardemon looked out of the window after shaking off his confusion. looking around his room lunging for his sword pulling it out of it's sheath, He placed the sword to his cheek feeling the cool metal against his roughly grown in beard and dirty greasy skin, He thought about what he would do to bring his wife back; what he would sacrifice to bring her back from her endless slumber, the dead have been known to have walked after their time but he couldn't think of her as that kind of lifeless. a flash of light blinded his mind as he began to picture everything that lead up to the moments at last night's festival.

The scene of the sickening blood bath at his home. It made him start to think about it bring tears in his eyes. Ardemon's quivering hands begin to shake with rage, How could he ever return home with that burden in his memories that set his soul on fire. Such a fury needed to be let go, grabbing his self out of the thought so fast pulling the blade away from his face slicing his cheek. My beautiful f*****g cheek he thought to himself, with such arrogant, conceited and boastful attitude that had him twisted up his own finger.

He threw the sword at the wall spearing into the roughly cut oak and maple wood trunk, The sword hit the wall so hard splinters of wood, bark and tiny shard's of metal sprayed at him as he turned his head from the wall, brushing pieces and bits of woods from his cheek he glared at the sword sticking out of the log wall with only the hilt of the blade showing as he payed no attention to the detail of what his anger had done.

He held his cheek hoping the cut wasn't deep. He pulled his hand away from his cheek to see it that it hadn't as much blood on it then he expected. Looking up at the window, A head ducked out of sight, He stood up quickly, could this be a bandit or someone coming to back to finish what they started? what did this figure see and how long had they been there he wondered.

Ardemon's adrenaline boosted his brain and pumped into his vein's as he jumped with a crack and rushed to the wall pulling his sword out of the thick cut woods and bark, To his surprise it come out like it had been stuck in butter, "No resistance from the wall or the blade" he said to him self out loud, A thin smile came to his face as he held the sword out in front of him thinking he had sharpened it well. He grinned as he was shoving it back into its scabbard moving as quickly as he could to the door of the small cottage, placing his to the door he noticed that it was made from thick yellow wood as the smell had been one of his favorite, He quickly listened if they was waiting by the door ready to attack him.

He opened the door sword in hand ready to strike, instead nothing awaited, sticking his head out of the door scanning the grass an bushes for any sign of a bandit or any person of interest. He only seen houses and inns with people passing by, They stared at him like he was crazy. So he lowered his blade; closed the door an ran to the window closing the cloth that draped over the slender window frame. He fell down on the post of the bed, leaning up against the cool wooden bed made him less anxious. As if he would have thought it could happen to him. down against the bed, only his thoughts could kill him at this point. A senseless idea had been scattering in his mind and it had giving him a wrecking headache, he put his palm on his head. If only he had found what he was looking for.

The elixir of life. He had heard of it when he was a boy in his childhood; that it could bring the dead back to life, But it was a fairy tale. A tall tale for children's bed time story's that every parent that sympathized with the Rapport of Judith; they told to the kids who had lost their parents or loved ones. after the war everyone needed some comfort and it had been told to the orphan's to give them hope, so he had been looking for it for three year's after his wife had passed; he had to have faith in something. He had to have a plan or else he was lost.

If that fairy tale hadn't been told to him and he hadn't remembered it at that time. He would have forced himself on his on blade, he had to come up with something. He had to have a goal and he had found his, a life with out her was one that battled life and death. "I'll kill them, i'll kill them all, i won't think twice." He had spoken these word's as he cradled her lifeless body. he carried her from small cottage to the dirt path and laid her down and swore death to the one responsible for this.

Each time he had an idea about what he could do or which path that was left to travel down was cut short and ended with him empty handed each time. Now was his time to find it, no one had any clues as to where it was, this time he would find it. This time he would be right; when it comes to him, his new leads in his travel to save his wife. He keep's trying to convince himself that he is right and that the world would fit to his needs. that it would be worth every moment of pain he had to suffer with out her.

He stood up, gaining his hopes back wasn't easy. Greater road's have been traveled by king's and those alike, Ardemon wasn't a lord or a chancellor. He was a common man with a hand full of genius plan's and that rose his ability to lead. "I'll give myself two month's to make it through the Pines, The grove and Shadow man's hood. that's where i will find the map maker that will lead me to the next clue as to where the elixir could be!" His eye's gleamed with this new ambition that had suddenly crept up on him. He grinned at the thought; only someone with an evil intent would. He was tired but he kept crossing the boundaries where he thought was his limit. Harnessing his blessing's and brilliant mind in hand he kept pushing and gaining ground through his tough time.

Moment's later he pulled his mind from the dark, leaving a moment's worth of time to grab his scabbard and his small satchel, rushing out of the door to the water falls near the city rim he began to plan how he would spend his last hours in town before he hit the trail. "So if i hurry i can buy some some supplies for the road, get my carry bag from the inn and be out of Maulhal by noon." he whispered to himself. Following the main brick road out of town, passing by homes and large buildings made from the same red lime mortar and brick; with the exception of the log inn he was staying in.

He brushed passed a woman looking to be wearing some sort of religious looking Crimson robes and cream, grey colored clothing garnished with brass embroidery. A flock of medallions hung around her neck on a necklace made of what looked to be silver. She stared at him with a peaceful smile that made him cringe, the thought of her smile being as fake as her intentions. the fact that they once enslaved millions and even crumbled an entire government. They called themselves The Crimson Scholars Of Abaddon. But little is known as to where or what they plan on striking next and no one can prove they were behind it because there was no left alive to detest them.

They both made a nod and continued on their path with out so much as a wave, hello or goodbye. But they both knew she wasn't in Maulhal for a seasonal holiday. He continued until he turned a corner that eventually lead to a dirt path and then a thin trail with tall trees to both side, Ever greens he thought. they seem to be in season, the sliver fir's being a favorite of his deceased wife. She always told him that where she had come from they were nearly gone, he couldn't think of there ever being too little of Evergreens but what does he know; he has never left Talga.

He kept walking straight until he began to see a small pond with a waterfall that had lush and vibrant colored plants All around it, the pond shape had cover of tree limbs and some big rock formations that seem to have been placed there to keep peepers from getting an eyeful. It is a public bathing pond. Plus he didn't feel like going to a bath house, they are always full. He stumbled onto the bricked area. He took his satchel off and laid it on a near by flat rock that resembled a table, he saw he could hang his clothes on a low hanging branch; but what he wanted was something to bathe with. he looked at the ground and found what he was sought. Near a thicket of brush by the base of the multi colored bushes were some flowers, he pulled some lilac, Wisteria and Jasmine and sat them on the ground in front of him in neat stacks.

He pulled a round wooden container, mortar and pestle from his satchel and sat them on the ground next to the flowers. He sat on the ground and began to pull the petals from the stems and placing them gently into the mortar, after he had placed all the petals into the mortar he tossed the vines over the brush and began to mash the flowers into a paste. He grabbed the wooden container and twisted it up to reveal a soft cream that had an off white color to it that resembled animal fat, he slowly added a small bit with his finger to the mortar and began to mash until it had sickly looking purple but it smelled way better then he did; he sat the mortar on the rock. He got up with the container in his other hand while using the rock as leverage with one hand to keep him from falling.

He turned and put his hand into the satchel once more to grab a canteen of water, he poured it in to the pestle and ground until it made a liquid bathing soap. He grabbed a huge green leaf from a plant a dumped the soap concoction on the leaf for his bath, he washed the mortar and pestle off with the water and left it on the stone slab to dry, undressed. Dropping himself into the cool pond with the leaf in hand he began to wash himself thinking about how he wanted to handle the situation that had been bugging him. he had a small amount of gold Tacrians on him but that wasn't enough to make it to the cabin, he would have to do a job for someone to get some more currency. "If i had some more Karbolid maybe i could make it to Harlow's bend, by sunset make camp thirty Merid's outside of Bright Falls.”

After he had washed up and sun dried he had gotten dressed and began to head back to his room at the inn. He stopped in grabbed his bag and his equipment, he a belt with a few different small throwing knives and small lock picks that are in a tiny satchel that is attached to the belt, some little pockets have flint and steel, cotton. bandages and other things he finds helpful including a compass. The second belt carried a lantern, a small canteen of oil and fire short thin sticks to lit the lantern. it also had rope, bombs and pouches for Dragon dust; although many of the other pouches and slots remained empty he was happy with them. His normal belt had only his scabbard but was encrusted with foggy, worn and battered looking jewels. His sword wasn't in the best shape either; having many scraps, dents and nick's in the blade, no matter how much he put it to a wet stone it would never clean up the way he wanted to, although it was sharp it still looked mossy and grimy.

The hilt looked dull and the handle was slippery but it had snuffed out too many lives to just throw away. plus it was also a family Heirloom so he couldn't just toss it out or never use it. Many tales have been told of his late family and ancestors using this sword for great many things, mostly evil deeds. He had read his father's diary and he had said that somewhere on the sword had a soul count. If this sword had any real power for the souls its stolen then maybe it could be used for good; If not then the sword is just for looks, Bluntly put it has racked up a healthy sum of a death toll. He had to do something or all of those people's death's meant nothing and their sacrifices were in vain.

Reviews

[Brooksfield]

I had Went over this as i had seen alot of mistakes in it, So i hope i got them all, I also had rewritten some of the stuff as it hadn't seemed that great, I hope it's a better then what it was. Thank you for reading!