Chapter 11: Original Sin

Grall

Grall stared into the mural, the characters seemed to move. Grall peered through the mural and after a moment he could see the magic. To the naked eye, these characters moved slowly, but to Gralls magical eyes, he could see these murals moving with great speed, repeating the scenes over and over again in all possible out come.

"Interesting." Grall said as he reached out his hand, stopping inches from touching the mural. "No," he said turning to the entrance of the cave, "I need to go back to the beginning, not the middle."

Grall walked to the entrance of the cave, finding the beginning of the mural buried in brush and ivy. Grall grabbed the ivy and slowly, carefully moved it off to the side. The mural depicted twelve creatures that Grall recognize as those that took up the responsibility of Gods.

Grall lifted his hand to touch the mural, pausing as another figure, one Grall recognized, appeared in the mural. Imp stood there, speaking with the Gods as though he was one of them himself. Grall began to pull his hand back, thinking better of going to that time, but found himself being sent through time.

Grall found himself standing behind Imp, just as he arrived. The twelve God's seemed to be discussing how to craft the world when one of them, Grall recognized as Talengar, noticed Imp.

"Who are you and how did you get here?" Talengar, the God of war, asked, he raised his two handed sword in a single hand. This was certainly Talengar but he looked to frail to even stand, let alone lift the sword he held in his hand.

"I apologize," Imp said as he bowed to the Gods, "I came here through an odd gate I found. Is this perhaps the first meeting of the Gods?"

The Gods stared at Imp in astonishment, Grall opened his mouth to speak but stopped. The Gods seemed to not even see him. Grall turned to Imp and held his hand out, waving it in front of Imp. He seemed to not realize Grall stood there either.

Grall sighed as the Gods burst into questions, asking Imp to tell them of the future. Before imp could respond, the magic that held Imp in this time, failed to keep him any longer. Imp disappears leaving the Gods gaping in disappointment.

One of the Gods, the god of the Dasari, eyes lingered where Imp once stood. "That looked to be an interesting race." The God said, turning back to the other Gods.

The group continued to discuss building the world. Grall walked up to them, as he approached, whatever hid him from the Gods view seemed to vanish as all the Gods looked up from their discussion, eyes on Grall.

At first, none of the Gods seemed to recognize Grall as a living creature. Then, suddenly, the Gods face contorted in fear as they scrambled to get away from Grall.

"Its The Reaper." One shouted as he started to scramble past.

"He's came back for us." Another shouted trying to get as far away from Grall as he could.

Only Talengar remained as Grall approach, his foot steps unwavering by the fleeing Gods. Talengar clutched his two handed sword tightly as his hand trembled with fear.

"Why did you return?" Talengar asked, he hoped the fear he felt didn't echo in his voice. "I thought you had agreed to leave us be."

"I am not here as The Reaper, Talengar." Grall spoke as he came to a stop in front of the orc that appeared to be a head shorter then him. "I came to seek knowledge of The Reaper. Knowledge of my past."

Grodak

Grodak stood over the plans for a new food storage building. After the mishaps during the long rain, of which they had just recently recovered from, Grodak realized that they need to start storing more food. He originally wanted his magic users to turn the new storage into an ice box, a place where meat can be stowed and last longer, only to be informed that it was impossible.

"Fucking A!" Grodak screamed out as he threw the plans on the floor out of anger. The one time he wished Imp was here and he had to go get himself killed off by a tabaxi. Grodak sat in his chair and placed his head in his hands.

As Grodak sat in his chair, the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand. The air around him warped and bent in odd ways. Grodak sat without panicking, even though anyone else might have.

As the air in around of Grodak changed, he found himself standing before a silver Dasari. "Greetings, Grodak, Adrian, Jaxale, Dronde, and Tyril." The dasari said, going down a list of names, it seemed. Grodak turned to either side, only to find the others sitting there.

"You are probably wondering who I am," the dasari continued, "and why I have brought you here."

Grodak stood up, looking the dasari in the eyes. He knew who he was and why he had been brought here and he didn't like the idea. "You are Imp," Grodak said to no ones surprise, it seemed they all figured it out, "and you brought us here to gloat over your triumph over death. Am I wrong?"

Imp stared at Grodak, his face taking on a stoney look. "Yes," Imp said after a moment, "I am Impartis, of the dasari/pyroniam race, but no, I did not summon you here to gloat about my revival. I am here to talk about something, someone, who is more dangerous then any we have faced. I'm here to talk about The Reaper."

Grall

Talengar stared at Grall in confusion, he had to clear his ears to make sure he heard Grall right. "You said," Talenger began to ask, "you want to know about The Reaper, about your PAST?"

Grall nodded, his helm rattled on his head. Grall had realized then that the Gods couldn't see his face and wouldn't be able to tell who he was normally. He wondered about this for a brief moment but chocked it up to the fact that they were Gods. Seeing him for who he is, or rather was, shouldn't be that surprising.

"I have no memories of prior to this cycle," Grall spoke quickly, wishing to end this discussion, "and from what I understand, you lot knew me in the last cycle."

Talengars eyes narrowed, he wasn't one to trust others without reason. Knowing this, Grall lifted his helm off of his head. "As you can see," Grall placed the helm under his arm as he spoke, "I am of your make, Talengar."

Talengar flinched at this accusation and turned his head to try and find another God, any God that could help him. None had stayed, they all had fled as far as they could to get away from Grall.

Talengar turned his gaze back to Grall and with a sigh he spoke. "Before I tell you what happened in the previous cycle," Talengar seemed to be speaking in a calm manner, "I have a question I would like answered."

Outwardly, Talengar seemed to be composed, almost calm, despite his earlier fear, but Grall knew otherwise. "I'll answer what I can." Grall said, it wasn't a bitter reply, nor one of respect, but calm and precise.

"Why...." Talengar began to ask his question but found it suddenly difficult to speak. Choking back his tears, Talengar raised his head in a proud manner. To Gralls dismay, the already old orc seemed to age tremendously.

"Why," Talengar began again, his voice gaining strength as he spoke, "did you choose to allow an old worthless orc, that was on the verge of death, survive? There were others that were stronger, smarter, braver, and much more honorable then me."

"The Reaper, from what I have been told, will choose from those who are living." Gralls voice sounded cold, colder then he had intended. If anyone who knew Grall was watching them, they would think his cold voice was derived from his need for vengeance. Vengeance for what he had been put through, for having to be cursed with the Shadow World, for favoring his brother and tossing him to the side when he was no longer of use, but, in Gralls heart, he knew Talengar was not responsible for that.

"He finds the strongest out of them," Gralls voice seemed to warm as he spoke clearly, "and separates them from the rest so that they may serve to prevent another cycles downfall."

"A-are you saying," Talengar asked, his voice rising in volume, "that my boys were not strong enough?"

"No." Grall said, his sharp reply stopped the God of war instantly. "I do not know what accord in the last cycle, it is the reason I am here. I just know that, among the living, The Reaper will only choose those that will benefit the next cycle. Strength is a big factor, but so is leadership, honor, and, most importantly, willingness to help those around you."

"I have my own guesses as to how The Reaper, my past selves, have picked from those that survived." Grall spoke with sincerity as he eyed the old orc, comparing him to what he had seen of him. It struck Grall as odd, even though he had only seen the God once and it was just a recording he did through the magic that was inscribed, he could have sworn the God was younger, stronger, and much braver.

"We can discuss that later though," Grall said as he realized he was putting the timeline at jeopardy with every moment he spent talking to Talengar, "tell me about the last cycle, and make it quick."

Imp

Imp stared into the many faces of the people he could call equals, some were friends, other acquaintances. They all had the strange look about them, as if they were speaking to a ghost, and rightfully so, Imp had been killed back in that cave. He lucked out, however, Dorothy had prepared for his eventual death and, using some of Imps and Etherious "DNA," as she called it, had created exact replicas of them with the minor differences being their scale colors.

How Imps soul had managed to find its way to this new body still remained a mystery to him. He knew only that his awakening in the test tube Dorothy had created for him wasn't planned and when he had awoken, he had new knowledge, as if he had overheard a conversation spoken between two friends.

In that knowledge, he gleamed that a threat that was unlike any they had faced was about to bare down on them. He had spent countless hours in his library searching for information on this new threat. Finally, after finding one of Talengars journals, who, according to Dorothy, had once resided in here during the first war of races, was able to put a name to the threat.

Imp now held the journal in his hand, ready to present his case. The group in front of him had raised eyebrows at the name. No one seemed to recognize it, not even Tyril who had been friends with some of the Gods in the second war of races.

"I hold in my hands," Imp said as he lifted the journal for all to see, "a journal, written by Talengar himself. In it, he speaks of a being only known as The Reaper."

Grodaks eyes stared longingly at the book. Imp knew that out of everyone here, Grodak would the most interested in the journal.

"Wha..." Grodak started to speak but found his voice failing him. After clearing his throat and coughing a bit, Grodak continued. "What does the book say? Can I take a look at it?"

"No, you cannot take a look at it Grodak." Imp pulled the book close to his person, making sure no one were to steal it. "As for what the book says..."

Imps voice trailed off as his eyes went to an empty seat. Confused, Imp began to look at all the faces in the room. "Where is Grall?"

The group began to look around, as confused as Imp. None of them knew where Grall was, none except Grodak. Grodak began to laugh, he was laughing so hard he fell out of his chair, toppling onto the floor.

"Hes probably in the Shadow World." Grodak said, wincing from the sting he had unexpectedly recieved when falling.

"Shadow World?" Imp asked, more confused then was before. "I didn't know Grall had the capability of traveling through worlds."

Grodak, who was sitting up now, burst into even more laughter, slapping the floor as he did so. "The Shadow World isn't a planet," Grodak said between fits of laughter, "its the plane of the orcs final resting place."

Imp looked appalled at Grodak, he knew Grodak hadn't gotten along with Grall, but to laugh at his own brothers death was just despicable. "I'm sorry for your lost, then." Imp said, he had no clue what else to say to the disrespectful orc and didn't want to say anything else for fear of starting a fight.

"What lost?" Grodak asked, his eyes went to the others in confusion who were just as confused. Most, if not all of them, had at one point or another seen Grall forced into the Shadow World, some of them have even stepped foot in it.

"Grall," Imp said, looking over the confused expressions, "if he is in the plane that is the orcs final resting place, I assume he's there because he had lost his life."

Imp was astounded and annoyed to find everyone bursting into laughter at what he had just said. It took Imp several tries to calm the group down and get someone to explain to him what was so funny.

"Grall is bound to the Shadow World," Tyril, who had been the first to sober up, said, "he can come and go as he pleases. Death also holds no meaning to him, anytime he dies, the Shadow World revives him. We have all seen it happen once or twice while fighting by his side or against him." Tyrils eyes went to Cassandra as he spoke his last words.

"Great," Imp said exasperated, "so now I have an immortal, a possibly revived Marik, and The Reaper to deal with."

Everyone quited, at the mention of Marik being revived. Tyril stared at Imp in disbelief, not wanting to believe it was true.

"A revived Marik?" Grodak asked, fear and anger clutched at his heart and showed in his voice.

Imp quickly explained the circumstances that led up to his death in a few short sentences. "When I returned," Imp said finishing his story, "the cave was empty."

"The necromancers," Tyril said, straining to keep his emotions in check, "and you're sure they were necromancers?" Tyril paused for a moment, hoping this was all a ruse, but continued when Imp nodded his head.

"They were trying to bring Marik back?" Tyril finished, his head in his hands as he felt sorrow almost over take him.

"Yes." Imp said, his eyes going to each person in the room. "That actually brings me to what I originally brought you here for."

The room was full of murmurs as they all try to wrap this new information around their heads. Imp sighed, annoyed at the disturbance, and raised his hand. Etherious, who's scales where now a white pinkish color, raised his head and let out a loud roar, silencing everyone.

"As I was saying," Imps said with a snare, "the reason I brought you all here is because I have reason to believe the new threat, The Reaper, as Talengar called him, is Marek."

"My reasons for believing this," Imp gestured at the journal, "is the question philosophicals have been pondering for ages. How is it that the source, or in some cases, the Gods are able to take all of creation back within himself to recreate the world again. Another question is the why, and I feel that this reason here answers them both."

"But," Grodak spoke up, "how would the reaper be able to do so?"

"In Talengars journals," Imp said, "he speaks of once befriending a couple of humans, brothers. As time passed, they both married but one of them lost his wife, which drove him to madness...." Imps voice trailed off for a moment, the raw feeling that Talengar had put behind the words still lingered in his mind.

"The brother that had lost his wife, his own children had fight him and kill him." Imp continued wiping the mist from his eyes. "Years later, through some means that isn't spoken of in Talengars journal, or rather, the page that spoke of it is missing. The same brother came back, this time he was unstoppable as he killed everyone he came across. Man, women, and children, they all fell to his sword."

"He killed and killed until their was only twelve remaining survivors," Imp looked up from his desk to the group, "the twelve who later became our Gods."

Talengar, the last cycle

I had been a warrior most of my life, longer then I'd like to remember. We, the orcs, served no God and so we never recieved any blessings, unlike the other races. We preferred it this way. "No one to hold us back." We would say.

Thinking back now, we were fools. Because we served no God we couldn't see the signs they laid out for their followers, which resulted in our down fall.

We knew of the legends, everyone did. The legends of a man who will lose what he loved to the world and turn make the world lose what it loved.

It was such a vague legend that we never gave it any thought. Why would we? We cared not for the world or those who inhabit it. We only cared for our people. Such foolish notion, yet we persevered thinking we were better then all the other races.

I remember the day it all started. I was returning to my tribe triumphant from a battle against thirty, or so, elves. On my way, I noticed a band of thugs attacking a caravan of merchants.

I'm not one rush to the weaks aid, but, wanting more kills under my belt to recieve a higher reward from the tribes, I charged in and slaughtered the thugs. I.... tried to save them, my honor as a warrior demanded me to. I was too late, however, too late to save all but two.

They were but babes in their mothers arms, twins who only survived because their mother shielded them with her body. I thought about leaving them there to die, but, once again, my honor demanded I take on the responsibility of these two babes after failing to save their mother.

I brought the twins back to my tribe and raised them along side my sons who were almost in manhood. Those years were joyous, I had enough rewards piled up that I didn't have to fight anymore, though I still wielded my blade when called upon.

When the twins, Darius and Firge was at the age of manhood, they were sent out into the world and for the first time, I was alone, my wife having passed to the astro plane some years before. I must admit, the loneliness got to me and I found myself charging head first into every battle.

Five years after the twins were sent out into the world, they returned bearing wives and children. Both my sons, my blood sons for the twins were very much of my own, and I were over joy. We congratulated them and held a feast in their honor.

At this time, my son, Firge came to me and asked to speak in private. I agreed and took him out to the training fields, hoping to test his metal as we spoke. Test his metal I did, for the first time in my life I, Talengar Rath Grodak had lost a duel.

I was astonished at my son who displayed a God like ability in our duel. He explained to me, after I picked myself up off the ground and retrieved my sword, that he had been having some odd dreams as of late. He told me that whenever he has these dreams, upon waking he could do as he did in his dreams.

I at first choked it up to him trying to pull the lambs wool over my eyes, but later found out it was more. Firge was blessed by the Gods and found favor amongst them. They had gifted him with abilities no other mortal had ever had, telling him its to combat the man clad in madness.

Neither of us took it seriously, we both thought it was the Gods pulling pranks and soon would take their gifts away. Again, I was wrong.

Twenty years later, my son Darius, out of rage, kill one of my blood sons, Graft. He did not do it intentionally, I don't even think he knew he could. Unlike his brothers, Darius was quiet and kept to himself, he never cared for fighting and instead preferred strategy, he was bright and strong in his own way.

Because of this, Darius quickly became a commander of armys. Everyone sought him out and asked for his aid. Every kingdom would kneel before him and show the respect he had earned.

I remember the day my son Graft died at his own little brothers hand. Darius had been trying to retire from helping others. He just wanted to spend time with his family and watch his children marry.

Graft, who had become the chief of our tribe, ours being one of the few that pick our chief from the strongest warriors, was in the midst of war with another tribe. He came to Darius, wanting him to help, to take control over his army and lead them to victory. Darius, getting old by human standards, refused to Grafts displeasure.

Graft should have let it go, he knew how troubled Darius was about never being able to see his children while they grew up. Alas, we orcs are a stubborn race, once we get something in our heads there is no changing our minds. Darius, out of anger, threw his hand back and, in an astounding feat, smashed Grafts head in.

Darius was troubled by this realization and I think something inside him broke. He started to have strange hallucinations of a man who followed him, claiming he wore a white three piece suit. He would occasionally have conversations with this strange man he spoke of.

Then, it happened. Out of grief and remorse, Grafts wife, Landran killed Darius wife, Sally. That was the last straw, the last thing Darius needed to be sent off the edge. His twin Firge was his first victim.

When the battle ensued, nothing was left of the area. The battle was intense and for the most part, it looked to be Firge who had the upper hand, but Firge would not, could not kill his twin. As Firge went for the final blow, he paused. Staring into his twins eyes, he wept and begged him to come back to his present state of mind.

Darius answered his pleas with a sword trusted into Firges heart. Shortly after this, the world went to war against this one man who held no army, no companions, and no loved ones. I was the only one to refuse the war. I refused to fight my son, even if he was the cause of everything.

In the end, Darius five children stepped up and fought him. After a long struggle that lasted days, Darius fell to his children's sword.

You may think that was the end for Darius and Firge, but you would be wrong. One of them, if not both, came back thirty years later, when I was nothing more then an old man, ready to die. They slew everyone in their path, killed people of all races, age, and gender. When they were done, only twelve of us remained.

The twelve new God's remained. This wasn't my last encounter with the one we have come to know as The Reaper. He later appeared to me and asked that I write this for later generations to find.

He also left a note for me to record here.

He will come. When he does, fear the madness. Do not hesitate to slay him. He doesn't wish for the end. Beware the demons who lay in wait, for they are the true threats to the cycle.

Most importantly, beware the Original Sin. The Rebirth Algorithm.