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This follows another storyline for a series of concept songs that I'm writing.
Part 1; The Orb of Ebethron
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Five hundred years after the banishment of the Dark Mage of Thaeron into the void, the terrible curse he left behind him still scars the land. Though his physical form was destroyed, his spirit lived on. His soul was divided and placed into three relics: the Orb of Ebethron, the Right Hand of Chaos, and the Scythe of the Time Seer. These relics were scattered across Arcanus, hidden from the eyes of any who would wish to resurrect the Dark Mage...until now....
A secret cult dedicated to the worship of the eldest son of Chaos-Tesla Amarth; the Destroyer of Worlds-have made a pact with the three Eternal Ones-three apprentices gifted with longevity and dark magics by the Mage. This dark alliance swore itself to the Dark Mage's resurrection. Though the three relics are needed as components to the Mage's resurrection, a fourth component is required-a blood descendant of the one who destroyed the Dark Mage's physical body...
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....Night falls across the sleepy town of Conch on Pacifica Island. On the town's outskirts, a man in blackened steel sits from atop his black warhorse with his eyes focussed on the town like two arrows fixed on a bullseye. Behind this man stands a large group of barbarian raiders. Their breathing emitted steam into the cold night air. With a single gesture of his hand, the barbarians charged toward the town with torch and blade and lit fire to Conch. A few hours into the attack, those brave few took up arms against the black armored rider. He slew them like cattle and tossed their bloodied carcasses with a flick of the wrist like rag dolls against the walls of the town's buildings, leaving bloody markings upon the white stone. Much blood was spilled that night...
Before the barbarians and their leader left, two large brutes dragged a young woman before him. He removed his helmet, revealing his jet black hair and red eyes. He looked at the woman, like a hawk on a small rodent, and outstretched an armored hand, the hand began to glow and resonate with vermilion light. "She is the one...the siphon. Take her away." One of the barbarians asked their dark master what to do about the rest of the survivors. The armored man chuckled and placed his helmet back on his head, "They should have never attacked us...kill them all...down to the last child. Leave no survivors." The barbarian nodded and ordered his men to slay the remaining villagers. By morning, there was only rubble and blood....
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to the world and 
because Im 
:><: that im sick!