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War Singer

Aryn0191
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Synopsis
Nineteen gods were dragged down from paradise and bound to relics by the notorious Dreamsinger on the continent of Ashireth countless years ago. His goal was to create the almighty Warsong but under mysterious circumstances, he failed. As time passed by, these relics were lost and scattered around the world, their existence being reduced to mere myths and legends. Seventy years ago, one of these relics was discovered by an Elaian warlord known as Talenhara, who used it's power to unite the Elaian tribes and form the Elaia Empire. Now, after subjugating their ethnic nieghbours and collecting two more relics, the Elaia Empire has launched a ruthless conquest to conquer the world. For this task, they require all nineteen of the Dreamsinger's relics. However, one force stands in the path of Elaia's quest. Those who know the consequence of reuniting the nineteen. A secret sect of Warriors and Scholars called Ruin Wardens shall retrieve and secure the relics before the Elaia. But, with the fires of war scourging the lands, will they succeed before time runs out?
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Chapter 1 - Call of the Song

Lifesong, the purest of the four primordial Songs, called to Rashir, invigorating him, pulsating his senses. It raged and receded, with each burst of adrenaline and every moan of grief or pain, imitating the flicker of an open flame in a wild wind. Such was it's rhythm during an ensuing battle, where every warrior tread on a fine line between life and death. Thus making the Lifesong they collectively resonated all the more dynamic.

Rashir watched from afar, standing on a slope looking over the frontlines, surrounded by honor guards and officers. Being denied the privilege to enter the battle, for the sake of discretion, he could do nothing but gawk with disappointment at the shamefully poor performance of his troops.

"Tell me, general…" He began but was interrupted by the stout man wearing an enameled suit of plate.

"Excuse me, Visioner sir, but the general took an arrow to the eye just...a while ago," the man squeaked fearfully, "I am a lieutenant."

"My apologies," Rashir said coldly, clearing his throat, "Tell me, lieutenant, why is that our warblessed troops are being crushed by peasants in linen wraps armed with nothing but large wooden boards and long pointy sticks?!"

"If I may be so bold, sir," the lieutenant said, "It might be due to the fact that the peasants have the higher ground and outnumber us with one to five soldiers."

"Is that all?" Rashir raised an eyebrow, sounding utterly unconvinced, "We have emerged victorious against worse odds." But that was when I joined the melee personally.

A messenger came running to them, "Lord Visioner, they have broken through our ranks. A lifesinger leads them!"

"Seriously! This just took a turn for the awesome." Rashir grinned with excitement, "Why didn't you report this earlier?"

"Sir, I…"

"Doesn't matter now." Rashir pulled off his restrictive cloak. Grabbing his obsidian-edged weapon, the Wind's Wrath, with a reversed grip, he dashed down the slope to meet his adversary.

"Presence of an enemy lifesinger overrides the protocol." He shouted to his officers, "I must join the battle!"