The Front Lines

Prologue
There are many tales of the God Wars. Tales of paladins, tales of werewolves, of factions, archers, mages, strategical masterminds. Of the gods themselves. Many, many tales. None of them giving even slightest mention to the villages that were attacked or the people enslaved to give the army the resources it needed. Food must come from somewhere. Soldiers need to eat. So those soldiers attack the small village and use its fish, its smiths, its farmers. None of these villages, remember, have any able-bodied men to fight. They have all been conscripted to war. The fighting is left to women and children. And so these villages fall easily. Most inhabitants become slaves. Many died. The warriors saw nothing wrong with it. To them, it was just good business.

The business they found in my village, however, was non profitable. Not least because of me myself. The sixteen and seventeen year olds, those just young enough to avoid conscription, (myself among them) were charged with our village's protection. We would have failed, if not for the Gypsy. A cow, a witch woman, well practiced in her magic, she cursed me.

I do not know the details of this curse, or the cause. Only the effect. Nor why it was me, simply that it was me, and I had to make of it the best I could. I was seventeen at the time, and have remained so ever since. Unless I fall in combat, I am immortal. And falling in combat wasn't something I could do easily. My speed and strength were inhuman......as were my actions. Many times I simply lost control, threw down my weapons and ripped men limb from limb with my bare hands. But that wasn't all I could do.

I was able to teleport, but not to a specific destination, like mages. Anywhere within ten meters or so. I wore no armour, I just teleported from foe to foe, slashing them swiftly before they noticed I existed. And I could wield the shadows. Mold them, shape them, turn them into something real, something physical. Shadows of towers became great blades of darkness in my hands, something I could use to kill, and kill often. I was... unstoppable.

But I became nothing more than a weapon in my people's eyes. So I forsook them all, and went to war.

My name is Richard Kane.

This is my story.

The Front Lines
The Front Lines, as you can see from the prologue, is about a young man (Richerd) who is given power beyond control. At first, he uses this power to protect his village, but then, he realizes it could tip the scales in the God Wars...

Episodes

 * The Only Defense
 * Night Is Still