The crowd cheered wildly as the current battle had just come to a close. A group of men, five to be exact, stood in the middle, surrounded by the corpses of another group of men they had vanquished. The victors, a group of bandits calling themselves "The Skull Crunchers", were quite pleased with themselves. They prided themselves on using brutal tactics to dispatch their enemies, and this battle was no exception. They were dressed rather oddly though, spiked shoulder pads adoring their shoulders, and paint on their faces made so they would resemble skulls. Their slacks and boots seemed to be the only things normal about them. One of the warriors suddenly looked up, a man with short black hair. His eyes focused on the gate, which was slowly rising up. Past that, he could see a large dragonborn, brandishing a large great sword. The blade itself was colored black, the edges a white color, which seemed to contrast nicely. The dragonman was also wearing a set of scale armor, colored black. But what stood out most about him was his broken horn...

Azerin glanced up at the five of men, readying themselves for another battle. They all had sinister smiles adorning their features, which showed they assumed this would be an easy kill, five on one and all that. The crowd grew silent for the most part, some of them murmuring to one another. Azerin was familiar to many of them. To them, he was known as the undefeated champion. And the Crunchers were going to learn why first hand.

The first one to attack, sporting a scythe, rushed at Azerin, letting out a loud battle cry. He swung downward, prompting Azerin to move forward and let the handle hit his shoulder. The sudden movement caused the man to flinch, only to have Azerin cave in his rib cage with a well placed fist. Blood spewed from his mouth as the force of the blow literally lifted him off the ground. Azerin used his free hand to grab the scythe, raising it up and jamming the bottom of it into his skull and driving his face into the dirt below. He grinned as he heard a satisfying crunch. The remaining men looked at one another in fear, then the three of them turned to the fourth one, who Azerin presumed to be their leader. He pointed his mace at Azerin, instructing them to attack. The regrettably readied them selves, then rushed Azerin. The first of the trio, who sported a spear, thrusted forward in an attempt to impale Azerin. Instead, Azerin caught it, pulling him towards him and head butting him. The spearman staggered, then fell to the ground unconcious. THe other two, one holding a pair of short swords, the other a whip, lunged at the dragon. Azerin raised his left arm as the whip came his way, it wrapping around his forearm. He yanked his assailant down to the ground, then thrusted the heel of his foot into the man's back, crushing it. The man screamed, then fell quiet. Azerin leapt back afterwards as the third warrior lunged with his short swords. Azerin then grabbed his arms, and yanked his hands outward, taking his current foes arms with them. He fell to his knees, crying out in pain until Azerin shoved one of his short swords into his forehead. "So noisy..." was all the dragonborn warrior said.

Azerin began walking towards their leader, until he saw the one he had knocked unconcious start to stand up. Azerin finally pulled his great sword from his back, skewering him in the side with the sword, then flung his body towards his leader. The final one staggered back, glaring at the thing that had just killed his men. "Stay back... stay back, you monster!" Azerin reached out, grabbing his neck and pulling him closer, then proceeded to look to the audience as they began cheering again. He turned back to the last Skull Cruncher, then proceeded to openhis mouth. "W-what are you... what are you doing!?" Azerin placed the man's head inside his jaws, biting down only enough to trap his head inside. He then proceeded to let loose a stream of fire, scorching his body down to his chest. Azerin grinned as he heard the sickening scream, then frowned again as he grew silent. He spat him out, the crowd going wild as he performed what was known as his signature move. Azerin then turned, resting his sword on his shoulders and heading back to the gates. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. He started to grow weary of this, not of fighting, but of being confined to whoever came to the coliseum. He wanted more. He wanted a greater challenge, someone he actually had to use effort to defeat. Little did he realize, that day would be coming sooner than he thought...

To be continued...?

That....was beautiful.

RIP Azerin...

lol

AMdG

A few years before Azerin's rise to stardom in the coliseum, a war had broken out. The shifters were engaging in a struggle with a fierce foe, one that required outside help. This is where Azerin's tale truly begins...

Bodies were strewn all across the battlefield, a mix of soldier's from both sides. All that remained among the living were some Shifters and five Dragonborn. Azerin was among them, clad in steel armor, his great sword strapped to his back. A female dragonborn ranger, named Kihrari, sat perched on a rock, a bow and a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder. Roker, the tall, black scaled dragonborn, was a barbarian, clad only in a loincloth and wielded a gigantic battle ax. A small, green, gangly dragonborn named Lieke, a warlock, sat on Roker's shoulder. Finall, another red scaled dragonborn, Magius, stood beside Azerin, clad in black robes. He sported two red streaks under his eyes and carried a staff, the kind a wizard often carried. A shifter soldier ran to them, panting heavily. "Azerin! We're thankful the Dragonborn Council sent you to deal with the current situation, but something else has come up!" Azerin raised a scaly brow at this urgent news, then nodded. "And exactly what has come up?", he asked. The shifter stood up right after finally regaining his composure. "Sir! A new enemy has appeared and has wiped out the third group!" Third group? Isn't that Captain Ritchell's group?" "Yes, but as I said..." "Where did thsi take place?" The messenger swallowed abit, feeling intimidated in the presence of such a large creature. "T-to the east!" Azerin thought for a moment at this bit of information. "East.. didn't, erm... Febrar was it?", Azerin questioned as he scratched the side of his cheek. "Oh! You mean Febrian!" "Yes, yes, Febrian. Anyway, isn't that where she was heading?" "Yes, but she's abit preoccupied! I've been ordered to send you that way." Azerin sighed, then shrugged. "Fine, whatever. We'll go." Azerin's group turned and left, leaving the shifter alone. The shifter smiled sinisterly. "Yes... amuse me, you stupid lizards..."

To be continued...

Azerin and his friends marched onward, eventually coming across a battlefield littered with corpses, both friend and foe alike. Kihrari looked about in shock, standing close to Azerin. "What happened here?", she pondered out loud. Roker scratched his head in confusion. "What are the chances they all would've taken each other out?" Magius snarled in disgust at the carnage around them. "This wasn't their own doing... it's barely noticable, but something else... a third party perhaps, took them all out." Lieke chittered softly on Roker's shoulder, hopping down to take a closer look at one of the corpses. "This is odd! Odd! ODD! Who would do this!?", he would say in an excited tone, hopping up and down as he exclaimed curiously. "That, my short scaly friend... would be me." As he spoke, the shifter that reported to them earlier stepped out from behind a rock, the same sinister smile he had when they left plastered on his face. Azerin and his comrades readied themselves. "You! You would betray your own kind!?" "My kind?", the shifter asked as he raised a brow. He then took a glance down at hiimself, letting out a soft chuckle. "Oops! I forgot to change... pardon me for one moment..." with a flash of blue light, the man was now a human, clad in dark blue robes, a cloak wrapped around him. His face was barely visible, the glasses framing his face was seen only due to the sunlight reflecting off of them when he turned his head just right. "Ah, much better. Now, where were we?"

Roker gripped his axe tightly, growling low before letting out a loud roar. Before Azerin could stop him, he rushed towards the cloaked man, axe held high. His opponent smirked, sliding one of his gloved hands out and swiping it. Roker stopped, realizing he couldn't move, and soon learned why as he looked down. From the ground up, his body began to turn into ice. Roker tried to struggle free, but it was no use. In a matter of seconds, his entire body was now encased in ice. The mystery man smirked, then began to laugh at the sight before him. He extended his right arm to the side, a scythe with a blood red blade appeared in his hands. He then swung down at an angle across Roker's body, shattering the frozen dragonborn. "Roker, NOO!!!", Azerin shouted as he witnessed the barbarian shatter into hundreds of pieces. "You bastard!", was all Kihrari shouted before drawing her bow and readying an arrow. But before said arrow could be fired, she heard the sound of fingers snapping just before her flesh was incinerated from her bones. THe remaining dragonborn looked on in horror as their friend was nothing more than a burning skeleton.

Magius and Lieke both turned to the cloaked man, who simply smirked. "What's the matter? Running out of friends?", he jested. the two spellcasters readied their own spells, preparing to fire them. "No!" Azerin called to warn them. "Don't you see!? He's goading us! We have to remain calm..." "You can remain as calm as you like!" Magius snapped as he readied an orb of lightning in his palm. "We'll be busy avenging our fallen allies!" "Burn! Burn! BURN!", was all Lieke would say as he readied a spark of eldritch power. Both the attacks went flying towards the mystery man, but hit nothing but dirt. He suddenly appeared behind Magius, shoving the blade of his scythe into his torso. Lieke was startled by the sudden appearance, staggering back. As his glasses shined in the sunlight under his hood, the hooded man gave a sinister smile as he forced the blade upwards, splitting Magius' upper torso as it did so, and swung it down into Lieke's skull.

Azerin looked in shock, his jaw hanging open as his eyes shifted from each of his dead comrades (or in some cases, what was left). Azerin clenched his teeth, breathing heavily as he glared at the "reaper" in front of him, this demon. "Who are you!? Why are you doing this!?" "Who am I? Well... " He pulled his hood back, revealing his short red hair, and his face,w hich was horribly disfigured ont he left side, as if burned. "If you must know, my name is Keian. Keian Zathuros. And as to why I'm doing this..." He disappeared yet again, appearing behind Azerin and slashing him in the back. "...Is simply because I'm testing myself." Azerin cried out in pain, falling to the ground. Keian stood over him, grabbing one of his horns. "You know, I know a great place where dragonborn horns..." He paused mid sentence, grinning sinisterly as he snapped Azerin's horn off. Azerin bellowed in pain, his eyes clenched shut as tears welled up in his eyes. "...are considered a hot commodity." Keian finished as he held up the busted horn. He tossed it up and down in his hand, then placed it into a sack on his hip. "Well, I have to say, this has been fun, but now I must go keep an eye on someone and make sure he doesn't get himself killed." Keian's look then turned dead serious. "That's a pleasure reserved only for me." With a swipe of his cloak, Keian disappeared just as he quickly appeared before, leaving Azerin amongst his fallen friends. Azerin slowly moved to his knees as he heard the sound of oncoming footsteps. A troop of shifters had arrived to check the area, finding the wounded dragonborn. As they tended to him and aided him in returning the camp, Azerin reviewed the events that had transpired here. A monster... that's how you would describe a man such as that. I swear... I will grow stronger. I will find that man... and I will avenge those that had fallen today by spilling his blood!

The end...or simply the beginning of something more...