The ground behind them was erupting. The armies of darkness ready to charge at any second. King Karashille of the human nation spoke words of courage to his only thousand men. "Warriors, today, it's them or us. Chances are that you will meet death," he said. "So think of your women, your friends, your children. If you are worried about them, then run, while you still can!"
Not a single soldier faltered. "Then stand. Men of light, to me! To glory!" They grouped up in a defense motion, holding weapons tight and shields strong. The warriors braced themselves. It came. Fire-breathing demons, Howling barbarians, and sword-wielding goblins charged.
Karashille was at the head of defense, and as light and dark met, he drew his long spear and impaled a goblin. The rest of the humans followed, jabbing with pikes and lances. "Throw!" commanded the king. Spears nailed barbarians at a distance. The king drew his sword, slashing demons and cutting them down. He charged into enemy ranks, a thousand battle-hardened soldiers behind him. No doubt that he was the best-trained swordsman in all of the kingdom. But the battle was not in his favor. Enemies closed in on him. His shield lost, then his sword. He quickly wiped the blood off of his face and lips and drew his dirk and dagger, killing enemies one by one.
"Volley!" shouted the king at the top of his lungs. A rain of bolts and arrows came down picking off goblins and orcs. He held off the rest, tiring as it was. His muscles were cramping, and his body was shutting down fast. But he went on. "Volley!" he shouted again. Nothing happened. Karashille glanced over the advancing orc ranks. No one was there. The last one standing was him. Less and less you could see him as the ranks closed in. Finally, nothing was left. the last king of light was killed.
But there was hope: with his last energy of magic, Karashille had created a tree a the end of the world, a tree of light. with a branch, one could rid the land of darkness. It would be almost impossible to get to. The king knew who would go this great distance: His one and only son.
Leonidas: Spartans, tonight we dine in hell!
Dilios: Do they have good musaka, sir?