A large figure stood over a dying man. Blood pooled on the burning field, extinguishing embers and mixing with the dirt and ash. The hot breath of the man who had been bested began to turn cold and slow as his body began to relax. The cold atmosphere claiming his soul as the hand of death gripped his body.
The figure was shroud in dark armor. Long black hair flowed slowly in the cold breeze and eyes as red as the blood that stained his boots glared down at the man in fascination.
"A shame really." Nasir spoke softly against the wind. His eyes slowly turned upwards to gaze at the sky as snow fell. "Winter's embrace comes to mourn the deceased I assume." He finished as he turned to gaze at the other dead bodies that littered the grassland. He had been tasked with clearing this land as a sword for hire. A simple living, but not one without its challenges.
As he bent down to gather his large sword, a terrible ringing filled his ears. His vision began to blur as he watched the air begin to separate and darken around him. He stood trembling on the edge of reason, as a figure cloaked in crimson flame stepped from the smoke and smiled.
"Call me Wrath," it purred, eyes aglow like dying stars. "Let me in, and I will make your enemies weep the way you once did."
Nasir's crimson gaze stared back at the figure. His body continued to tremble and his fists would clench.
"I did not ask for your name as I already know of you. Why do you visit me? What is your purpose?" Nasir asked despite the awe he would feel from the power radiating from this creature. It was intense, the air and sky seemingly bending to its will, the snow halting all around him as if frozen in time.
"Is it not simple?" Wrath responded, "I come to offer you power. A poor boy who was thrown into The Pit and forced to fight in order to survive. Now a man who kills for money and pleasure." The figure held up a finger. "But I sense something more than that. Yes, a hatred and uncontrolled rage that burns hotter than the Abyss below the Seven Pillars. Unyielding and unrefined. Let me offer a guiding hand to you. Nasir Qinrieth. Be my wicked acolyte."
Nasir's eyes gazed from the entity. Staring at the ground below his feet and clenching his teeth tightly. Any other demon would jump at the chance to claim this power as their own. But for so many years, he called out to the seven Dark Princes. And now, after two centuries of his life had gone to waste, after many that he had come to love had perished. He was convinced they had all died off after so many of his kind had escaped to the surface.
"If I may be allowed. I need time to process this promise of power, Dark Prince. An offer as powerful as this must be considered heavily." Nasir responded as he placed a hand over his heart and bent at the hip. Inside of his head, he could feel the figure poking around his thoughts.
The feeling was strange, yet after a few moments Wrath spoke once more. "I will allow it. But know this, my time has its limits. So ensure your decision is the right one." It spoke before vanishing with the blink of Nasir's eyes.
Everything was back to normal. Snow was falling and the flames that ate at the grass began to die down. Nasir's lungs filled with air sharply as his breath had escaped it. It was as though he had spent that entire time not breathing.
"Fuck…" Nasir exhaled. That was one of the most interesting things to have happened to him in his opinion. But he needn't wait around as if Wrath would return. No, something else squirmed deep within his subconscious. A feeling of hate that brewed for the unanswered prayers to his dark rulers. The people he could have saved if he had been given such a power.
No, instead of blindly accepting this deal, Nasir needed more answers, needed someone who has dealt with such a power before. Perhaps another acolyte of one of the sins. He wanted more than just power, he wanted a taste of vengeance.
Slowly, he knelt down beside the freshest of his kills and lightly touched the man's face. It was an elf with high blood. They were said to be strong. And all of them were. The ones that were brave enough to fight against him anyway. His fingers pulled the Elf's eyes closed and he lowered his head slightly and whispered an elven prayer for him.
Though he derived great pleasure from the battle, he still would honor those that fell. Such as his own warrior code. Nasir's eyes moved over to the weapon that he wielded so easily in this battle. A broad and mighty sword, one which weighed as much as an adult Moon Bear.
Despite its immense weight. Nasir lifted it in his right hand and swung it over his shoulder as he stood. Turning and walking off from the blood soaked grounds. His presence fading with him and the snow beginning to cover the sea of crimson.