Reality

In the world of Vexthoria a lawless world of magic, swords, and mystery where the struggle for power is relentless. The sickness of losing oneself to greed and ambition is but a common tale and those who refuse to overcome their own weaknesses are only destined to be exploited and plundered of all things they deem important.

Now we shall embark through one of the many tales of Vexthoria…

In a rural village where the population is just shy of 100 residents, there was a family 3 made up of a mother, a daughter, and a young boy named Zarvox their day began as it usually did Zarvox awakening in his straw home eager to begin his day of chores and daily labor. Zarvox got dressed and made his way to the dining room where a delicious aroma of his mother's cooking entered his nose and the sound of laughter between his sister and mother rang through the household.

Both noticed his presence and turned to greet him, "Good morning Zarvox" Both sister and mother said to which he smiled and replied" Good morning" in a delighted tone and took a seat to a seat at the table ready to share breakfast with his family.

Once breakfast was finished Zarvox set out to attend to his daily task that lasted till sundown, he was now on his way back to the village as he ventured off into the forest to collect herbs for his mother to cook a stew she had been wanting to prepare.

he continued walking racing to get home in time but just as he was about to leave the forest, he smelt a disgusting stench striking his nose of charred wood and what seemed to smell like a dead animal as he walked forward his pace only getting faster causing him to drop his herbs and sprinting in the directions of the village.

When he reached the village he was invited to the site of what remained all the houses were on fire but not a soul in sight he ran to where his home should be only to find a pile of ash and blood painting the village roads but no bodies in sight.

Zarvox was in a state of denial the words ringing in his head "NONONONONO THIS CANT BE HAPPENING, THIS CANT BE REAL" falling to his knees clawing into his arms until his nails spilled his own blood but then was interrupted by the sound of a loud thump coming from the center of the village giving him a moment of clarity realizing his family might still be alive as he has yet to see any bodies of them.

But when he made it to the source of the sound his worst fear was made a reality there were 2 men creating a pile of lifeless corpses and among those lifeless bodies was his mother and sister. The sight of them made his blood boil with anger and despair wanting to make the ones who did this suffer a fate worse than death.

The air thickened with the stench of burning flesh as Zarvox crept closer to the two soldiers defiling the remains of his loved ones. Anguish boiled within him, fueling a primal rage that threatened to consume his very soul. His heart pounded in his chest, echoing the cries of his family lost to the flames.

Drawing his sword with a trembling hand, Zarvox stepped out from the shadows, his eyes ablaze with fury. The soldiers, startled by his sudden appearance, spun around to face him, their faces contorted with malice.

"Who dares interrupt our work?" one of the soldiers sneered, brandishing a bloodied dagger.

Zarvox said nothing, his gaze fixed on the desecrated bodies of his mother and sister. In that moment, a darkness enveloped him, suffusing every fiber of his being with a relentless thirst for vengeance.

With a primal roar, Zarvox lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air. The soldiers recoiled, their surprise quickly turning to fear as they weren't prepared for Zarvox's blade as it found its mark, cleaving through flesh and bone with savage ferocity.

The clash was brutal and swift, the sounds of metal against metal ringing out like a symphony of death. Zarvox fought with a primal intensity, his movements guided by instinct and fueled by anger.

As the battle raged on, Zarvox's mind became consumed by a singular purpose: to make his enemies pay for what they have done. With each strike of his blade, he carved a path of destruction through the soldiers, his resolve unyielding in the face of adversity.

But even as victory seemed within his grasp, Zarvox's world was suddenly consumed by searing pain. A sharp agony ripped through his shoulder, causing him to stagger back in shock.

One of the soldiers had managed to land a blow, his dagger sinking deep into Zarvox's flesh. The pain was excruciating, but Zarvox refused to relent. he summoned the last of his strength, driving his sword into the soldier's heart with a final, desperate thrust.

The soldier collapsed to the ground, lifeless eyes staring up at the darkened sky. Zarvox stood over him, his breath ragged and his body trembling with exhaustion. Blood dripped from his wounds, mingling with the ashes of his fallen kin.

In that moment of triumph, Zarvox's mind raced with questions. Who were these soldiers, and why had they attacked his village? What dark purpose drove them to commit such heinous acts?

But amidst the chaos and confusion, one thing remained clear: Zarvox's journey had only just begun. With the taste of blood still fresh upon his lips, he vowed to uncover the truth behind the attack and to exact justice upon those responsible, no matter the cost.