It's been a pleasure. Good luck, Ramee.

Damas, recruit, and the skull.

Damas W. of Jhelom

*Deep in the cool night Damas made his way up to the arena on the roof and sat on the stone floor with his legs crossed, leaning with his back against the wooden side. It was so good to be in a fighting arena alone with your thoughts. In an arena where you are not an outcast, where you can win. Damas started to feel a growing affection for the township of Cove...*

*At that thought he remembered reading Veldrin's report.*

"I think it all adds up." Thought Damas as he opened a 'religious book' he had bought not long ago - it truth it turned out to be a propaganda book about the 'good' Guardian and 'evil' Avatar. "We have a cult growing in Cove. And if they have human spies to spread their lies as well as undead servants that pose a threat then... then their dark deeds must be gaining speed and coming into fruition."

*As the night wind blew and caught Damas' hair, his thoughts moved from the topic of undead to the battles of the past and Damas was lost in the world of shattered dreams.*

*The next morning Damas wrote a small report. He left it on a desk that he thought must be used by the commanders as it had papers and all kinds of useless items scattered all over it. Hopefuly, not too many eyes would see this report. Atleast not the cultist ones.*


To whoever in charge might be concerned,

I have recently come into contact with who I believe is a cultist spreading propaganda of a false religion in Cove. It is my belief that the emergence of such cultists and the frequenting appearance of undead away from the graveyard is connected. I have tried posing as a supporter of these 'false prophets' and will continue to do so. With luck I'll find out more as obviously the cultists are gaining ground in our town.

Damas W. of Jhelom

Damas fell to the ground with the grace of a chopped log. He simply couldn’t go on fighting any more, he had no strengh left. The crowd of spectators roared and encouraged his opponent to finish the battle in a grizzly manner but Damas didn’t care anymore. His broken mind was occupied with one question only: how did this come to pass?

…After tearing through all opposition and ascending to the top of the battle ladder, he had only one obstacle left before he would be declared champion. Damas was fully confident that the final fight wouldn’t last long. His opponent was, after all, merely a hard worker with no talent who by pure luck managed to reach the top…

Kamaal took off his helm and grinned, showing his emotions for the first time in this battle. It was over. He turned to the crowd and shouted “WHAT SHALL I DO WITH HIM?!”

Damas tried to move but couldn’t. All of his body was aching and bloody. He tried to remember the course of the fight…

…Kamaal stepped into the arena wearing light armor and plate helm. He seemed without emotion and didn’t even greet the crowd.  Damas on the other hand stayed true to his style and made a flashy entrance, blowing kisses to beautiful women in the crowd, waving to children and tauting his opponent. Deciding to demonstrate his confidence and superiority he threw his shield and helm to the other side of the arena. The spectators seemed to love the show…

…When both of the rivals started to move in circle in the middle of the arena, Kamaal seemed to be fully concentrated while Damas thought of grand future plans and payed hardly any heed to his adversary…

… With a swift strike Kamaal managed to make a nasty cut in Damas’ left hand…

… One good swing followed another and soon Damas found himself with a wound in his leg and a badly injured right shoulder, unable to hold his kryss anymore. Much to the surprise of the crowd, Kamaal honorably threw away his blade and proceeded to fight bare fisted as well…

…Damas fell to the ground with the grace of a chopped log. He simply  couldn’t go on fighting any more, he had no strengh left after Kamaal had pumeled and beat with his enormous fists.

“SLAY HIM! MAKE IT SLOW! DEATH!” the spectators screamed. Kamaal shrugged and stepped closer to Damas’ battered body. “Sorry, it seems I will have to choke you” he said and laughed.

Anguish, frustration, dissapointment and most of all fear now dominated Damas’ thoughts. He wanted to get up, wanted to run but could only watch as his rival kneeled next to him and prepared to carry out his dark intention. Damas felt his doom draw near and despair overtook him.

***

“Hear ye! Hear ye! By order of the Guild of Fighters the one previously known as Damas shall henceforth be called only as Wulfmaw and is banned from ever setting foot in Jhelom again. Punishment for failing to uphold the order is death.”

The gathered people nodded in silence and proceeded to return to their duties. All except an old, tired man who carried a large backpack and seemed like he had just returned from a long journey.
“By the virtues’, what has he done to deserve this?!” the old man exclaimed.

“What did you expect” a woman nearby replied. “The new name is only fitting to him for he bit the throat of his opponent Kamaal last eve in the pit fight after an animal rage took him.”