(because I want the story to flow and since i'll be posting in here after I write in in my journal I don't want readers to have to skip around looking for the beginning of the next chapter post etc etc. )
Chapter 1
Novembreth 21/17
Snow began to fall. It had been years before any snow had fallen around here. A lone figure stopped in the middle of a war ravaged street. He stopped amid the motionless chaos and looked up towards the sky. He stuck out his tongue, snowflakes melting on contact. He smirked then lowered his head and continued walking. His eyes constantly observing the remains of the once proud city of Crofton. All manner of evil stalked him from the shadows, some more living than others.
The creatures slinked around the darkness, amidst the crumbling buildings and burnt out cars, following the lone traveler. The would have torn his body asunder if not for the mark he bore. He was a Branded. A fallen angel, cursed to wander the lands until his soul was claimed. As he got closer to his final destination the air became heavy, lending itself to the depressing atmosphere. A voice shot out from the dark, the voice was not human nor living, its owner was much more sinister.
The traveler stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes darted around looking for the direction of the sound. He already knew its owner. He shouted his won reply. "Be'lok!! Show yourself you unholy coward!!" A pain cry pierced the air. Soon a tall figure skulked out of the shadows and began making it's way towards the traveler.
"Oh you know I don't like hearing my name like that."
Be'Lok stopped a few yards from the traveler. Be'Lok cut an impressive figure, standing at least six foot tall, he had marble grey skin and the most pure blue eyes that seem to cut through the soul. "Jacques you couldn't have thought I wouldn't have found you. Your soul is forfeit and it's time to collect."
Jacques clenched his fists, he needn't be reminded of his fate. "I've slain your brothers and you shall fall with them Be'Lok!"
"They were weak just like you. You haven't a chance against me."
"Talk is cheap." Jacques made a few hand signs before summoning a holy claymore from the ground. The deamon began to remove it's flesh to reveal it's true form. As it did so the snow around it began to turn to ash and the air was coated with the stench of death.
Jacques was taken aback by Be'Lok's true form. He had fought deamons before, but none that looked like Be'Lok. Be'Lok looked frail, sickly even. Hell he looked like he'd keel over if he sneezed. Jacques fought to stifle a laugh. "You are the one I was told to fear?"
"Watch yourself Branded, I am older and more powerful than your God!"
"Stay your tongue deamon! The time for talk is over!"
Be'Lok just bowed and began mutter in his deamonic tongue. The sky began to darken and the air around them began to take on a supernatural chill. Jacques charged at Be'Lok, his claymore trailing behind him scarring the earth that it touched. Jacques swung it in a huge arc looking to take out Be'Lok in a single blow....
