Sanguis

It is a quiet and peaceful day on the gates of Falador. The year is 170 into the Fifth Age. There is a little and breeze, and if one looks carefully enough, they can see the Black Knight's Fortress in the distance.

There, in the Fortress of the Black Knights, a mysterious figure who has rose to the rank of a great leader stands in the dining room.

"The time to strike is now! We have amassed our army, and we can destroy the White Knight betrayers once and for all. All of Asgarnia will be under our control," He proclaimed.

His followers, dressed in dark armour cheered on to his speech. The Black Knight's all leave, heading towards Falador.

The Black Knights ready their vicious longswords. The unsuspecting guards of Falador walk around like idiots, not knowing of the impending attack until it'll be too late.

It was too late.

Where the Guards march, the Black Knights galloped like noble steeds. The captain of one of the guards dropped his sword and shield, and ran to the east.

From the fortress of the White Knight's, they could see what was going on. It was a slaughter house for the guards. The Black Knights easily overpowered those who tried to fight back. They were prepared for the attack now.

A group of White Knights guarded the courtyard of their Fortress. They knew their white armoured barricade might not stop the Kinshra.

It didn't stop the Kinshra.

Four of the Black Knights charged in, and a small melee broke out. The mysterious leader of the Black Knights abandoned his faithful warriors in the ensuing chaos, and ran for the top floor.

However, he was stopped by a chef who was cooking at a range.

"You can't do this!" He said.

The Mysterious Leader smirked. "Oh, yes I can!"

"No you can't!" It was another voice. The voice of a nearby adventurer with a training shield and training sword.

The Adventurer hit the Mysterious Leader with all his strength. Nothing.

The Mysterious Leader, quite annoyed, hit a 25 on the chef, and a 10 on the Adventurer. Gravestones toppled over their morbid remains.

The Mysterious Leader ran up the flight of stairs. He was stopped by a White Knight with an eyepatch.

"Crud!" The Eyepatch Knight cursed, "My blurite sword is still with my squire! I better go get it...Just wait for me here, I'll fight you in a second."

The Eyepatch Knight ran down to fetch his sword.

The Mysterious Leader leaned on the railing of the stairs, waiting impatiently for him. He could hear the Eyepatched Knight in the distance, saying something like:

"What!!?? YOU LOST MY SWORD!!! THAT WAS PASSED DOWN FROM MY FATHER WHO GOT IT FROM HIS DAD WHO..."

And then a little whimper from his squire: "Um... I'm s-sorry master! I was trying to tell this nearby adventurer to get a-a- copy for y-you, but he got killed! WAAH!"

The Mysterious Leader swore under his breath. To hell with you people.

He continued walking up the stairs. There, at the top floor, on a beautiful looking table, was a jug of what appeared to look like wine. But the Mysterious Leader knew it wasn't just wine. It was his own blood. The Blood of Zaros.

As he put his hands on the Jug solemnly, he remember how thousands of years ago he was banished from this realm. He remember how he struggled to return to a form in which he could drink his blood, the blood of a god, once more. He knew the specifics. If he drank his own godly blood, he would become a god again. That was what he was going to do. He picked up the Jug, put it on his lips, and drank.

At once the clashes of the swords outside fell silent.

Zaros had returned.