Chapter 1

A Chapter by Anonymous

This is the first chapter and I'll keep adding bits and pieces to until it's finished. Sorry but I have trouble typing and stuff in my age so just bare with me (updated 1:22PM on February 24th)

The Shepherd of the Dark - A Tale of One Man's Mistakes

Chapter 1:

The sun began to set on one cool Autumn's day in the forest of the region of Cannifis. The trees glowed in beautiful meshes of red, orange, and yellow which evoked the spirit of fall in anyone who walked through the forest. The forest floor was completely covered with dead leaves that once were green and full of life, but now lie brown and shriveled on the ground. The air was chilling to the skin but in a way that, unlike winter, felt good and soothing to the soul. The air began to carry that smell it gets when it is no longer warm during the days, but did not overpower the nose like it does later in the year. The sky began to glow hues of purple and pink as the sun set further behind the earth. The forest trail grew darker and only one man walked it now.

The man walked down the forest trail very nonchalantly; it seemed he was in no rush to get anywhere even though night drew closer with every passing minute. A man should always be in a town before dark because the risk of encountering bandits is too great while wondering trails at night. An encounter with a group of rouge bandits usually called for death, and a very unpleasant one. It's not uncommon for travelers to find bodies on the sides of trails because of a robbery that took place at some point in the past. They were often mangled corpses that were left half naked. Clothes, gold, anything worth money would be taken by bandits if they caught you all alone.

The only thing worse than being killed by bandits was being captured by them. They sometimes took people off these trails and forced them to work until they died from the cold or pure exhaustion, whichever came first. Truly they were horrid and soulless people but the man walking down the trail seemed to pay no mind to the possibility of danger. He walked down the trail at a slow, constant pace and did nothing but stare forward the entire time. The man walking down the trail was very unusual in nearly every aspect. His appearance itself is frightening. He wears nothing but black clothes; his shoes, pants, shirt, hood, and gloves are all the same shade of black. Even stranger is the fact that he wears a wooden mask painted that same shade of black. It is a raggedy, old looking mask with nothing but eye holes and a couple vertical slits were one's mouth should be. The only thing visible behind that mask is the man's eyes, and they are eyes with red irises that harbor nothing but a look of hatred. Besides his eyes no other part of his body showed, he is clothed to the point were none of his skin is showing. But perhaps the most bizarre feature of this man's apparel is the object he carries on his back. He is a very tall man and he's carrying a crude wooden coffin on his back that is almost as tall as he is. The coffin has a leather strap which is slung across the man's chest, similar to the way one looks when wearing a knapsack with only one strap. He carries this coffin and walks down the forest trail which is now only visible by moonlight.

The man continues his way down the forest trail. He walks in a way that creates no sound as his feet hit the leaf-covered ground, which almost seems like a god given gift. Even the most skilled thief lacks the ability to walk silently on leaves no matter how light his footsteps are, but for some reason this man possesses such an unnatural gift. The sound of crickets chirping can be heard along with the flowing of a near by river and the rustling of leaves in the cool breeze. The faint ghostly green glow of fireflies can be seen throughout the forest and if one looks close enough through the treetops, they could see the stars clearly on such a perfect night. None of this phases the man walking down the trail. He seems to not care of the beauty of nature that surrounds him, his eyes remain fixed in front of him and nothing seems to phase that. Nothing except for the sounds of footsteps that can faintly be heard in the distance.

The man stops dead in his tracks but his eyes remain fixed in the same position. He waits in the same spot for what seems a long while. He can hear the footsteps grow louder which means that whatever is out there is drawing closer. Remaining completely silent and moving so swiftly that the average eye would have trouble keeping up with his movements, the man climbs and jumps onto a branch of a nearby tree. The way in which the man climbed the tree showed an incredible amount of agility. It seems as if this man is something more than just an average human. He possesses skills unlike that of any other before him. The man removes the crude wooden coffin and gently rests it up against the tree then proceeds to crawl further down the branch. He can now see further down the forest trail. He waits in a crouched position for several minutes. The footsteps grow louder with each passing moment and eventually four men come into sight. The man crouched in the tree kept his eyes fixed on the men approaching. They were laughing and talking to each other as they walked down the path.

"Kudos on a great night boys, I can't believe we managed to kill that group of three and steal ourselves a small shipment of gold." Said one of the men followed by a bout of laughter. "Yeah well were lucky that those men were cowards, remember how they begged for their lives?" Said another one of the group of four. Again they all laughed as they continued down the path.

The man crouched in the tree listened carefully to everything that the group said and, without a doubt, knew they were bandits. From his belt he unsheathed two daggers and held one in each hand. He waited for the men to draw closer.

"No, no please don't kill me!" One of the bandits imitated as he drew his hands to his face as if to plead for his life. "I have a wife and two kids and this is the gold that I need to spend to feed them!" The man continued. The other three burst out into laughter as they continued down the path.

The group of bandits unknowingly passed underneath the man crouched in the tree. Once past, the man leapt out of the tree and onto the trail beneath. He did so in a fashion that made the group of bandits turn around and look at him. The man stood straight up, daggers in hand, and stared directly at the group of bandits. He then spoke in a voice that sounded deep and slightly demonic.

"You four have killed innocent men from what I heard you say. Scum like you is best cleansed from this earth so it can no longer harm what good is left. You will pay for your sins one way or another and I'm afraid it's going to be one long eternity in hell for you heartless bandits." Said the man. The red of his eyes seemed to burn even more fiercely with hatred than they did before.

The four bandits shared a confused and surprised look between each other before they all burst out into laughter. They all laughed for a minute before one of them spoke. "And who are you claiming to be some kind of saint ridding this earth of evil?"

The man stood in the same spot and looked directly at the bandit who spoke to him. "Anyone who ever knew my real name has been long dead. You may address me by the name I've been given be those alive who know me. They call me the Shepherd of the Dark." Said the Shepherd of the Dark in his slightly demonic voice.

The bandit gave a quick chuckle then looked back at the Shepherd of the Dark with a smile. "Ok Mr. Shepherd" said the bandit in a sarcastic voice, "let me make you a deal. We won't kill you if you just give us those daggers of yours and then go hop back up into the trees where you belong." The group of bandits broke out in laughter again.

The Shepherd of the Dark changed his stance without moving from the same spot he stood. He drew one of his daggers higher into the air and spread his legs so that he looked like he was in a battle stance. He then said, "I'm not here to bargain my safety, I'm here to rid the earth of people like you. I won't be satisfied until you pay your debt to those you damned back in blood."

"Have it your way but know that you damned yourself you fool!" Shouted one of the bandits as he drew a steel sword from his belt.

The bandit beckoned the three others to stay behind as he approached the Shepherd of the Dark. He spread his legs and drew his sword with both hands so that it ran horizontally from his right hip up past the left side of his face. Whoever this bandit was, he knew how to sword fight because his stance itself was proper and unbroken. He looked straight at the Shepherd of the Dark. "I'm going to enjoy killing you." Said the bandit in a calm but slightly crazed voice.

The bandit swung his sword in a circular motion behind his head, then in the blink of an eye brought it back down from over his head straight toward the head of the Shepherd of the Dark. Just as quickly and if not quicker, the Shepherd of the Dark crossed his daggers and brought them up to catch the sword that was swung towards him. The sword fell right into the gap made by the two crossed daggers and stuck fast there. It took a few moments, but the bandit realized that his sword hadn't hit it's desired target. The bandit saw what had blocked his sword and was now in utter shock. When someone blocks a sword with a shield, they often flinch from the sheer force of the blow. Not to mention that using a shield can lead to a broken arm if the blow is hard enough. But to stymie an attack with two daggers was a great feat in and of itself and doing so with out so much of a flinch was unheard of.

The bandit tried to draw his sword back but the Shepherd of the Dark kept it held fast. Only now did the bandit realize how truly terrifying the appearance of the Shepherd of the Dark actually was. The Shepherd of the Dark fixed his eyes onto the terrified eyes of his opponent and muttered a single word, "Checkmate."

With that word the Shepherd of the Dark released his grip of his opponent's sword and pivoted horizontally to the left, then back to the right so he was now behind his opponent. He did so with such speed that attempts of reacting would be pointless. The two daggers in his hands were now raised and their grip on them was tightened. In the next thirty seconds, the Shepherd of the Dark landed countless strikes and slashes onto the body of his opponent. The bandit had a hard time reacting to the sheer speed and number of the attacks and soon he lost his grip on his sword. The Shepherd of the Dark continued his assault, pivoting around this poor man so that he was sure to strike every portion of his body. Blood flew and gave a faint glow in the moonlight. It painted the ground and near by trees until the stench of iron filled the air. After just thirty seconds the body of the bandit fell to the ground, and his blood stained the trail and trees and the clothes of his killer. The body looked utterly mangled and blood puddled on the ground were it lie. A fitting death for a soulless man who did nothing but draw others blood for his own gain.

*This isn't the entire chapter I'll add to it at different times so check back if you like it and there might be more added. (Last update was at 1:22 PM and I added a couple more paragraphs)