Boargrunt lay sprawled on the bottom of the mountain. His body was charred from the bolt of magic his brother, Hornfrost, had sent on him. His fists clenched in anger, feeling betrayed of his brother. “My revenge shall be so treacherous that even the great Roratak and my brother shall grovel at my feet.” said Boargrunt. “The great demon Varnash shall rule by my side when I summon him from the ashes of hell.” Boargrunt rose from the white snow and climbed the mountain in agonizing pain from his deep wounds. His black hair and beard swung in the bitter cold wind, getting in the way of his vision. He finally made it to the top of the towering mountain. He crawled to an open spot of snow and drew a strange circular shape with his finger.

The earth beneath him rumbled, and a blinding green light erupted from the symbol. To truly open the portal of Varnash’s world, he must make a sacrifice of something dear to him. He reached into his thick robe and grabbed a golden locket with a sliver of Hornfrost’s magic, given to him when Hornfrost was born. A glistening tear drooped down his cheek and onto the locket. He grasped it firmly and threw it into the portal. The green light grew brighter and the ground beneath him began cracking. Boargrunt looked down into the portal. “Yes,” he said, “Rise Varnash, the demon lord!”

Then a gigantic explosion burst from the portal, sending Boargrunt flying through the air and hit the ground with a hard thud. An enormous gaping hole had singed through his chest. Boargrunt knew he couldn’t live through this one. His eyes turned back into their sockets and his face turned expressionless. Boargrunt’s hand fell on the ground, stained with blood. The powerful wizard, was dead. Dark spirits crawled from out of the portal with flaming eyes and razor sharp, black teeth. Claws the size of knives and they had thin bodies, and were about the size of trolls. They all carried a weapon of some sort, like axes, maces, spears, and sabers. A humongous ball of fire was launched out of the portal and landed with a flurry of flame. The fire gathered together, forming a tall figure with horns and a long tail. The fire dispersed, revealing the most powerful force to ever walk on the soil of Rawl.

Varnash, the demon lord, stood on the tallest peak of the Mountains of Grick. He had a large black cloak on and his skin was even darker than the night sky. His eyes glowed with hatred and large horns that pointed outward had been famous for skewering thousands of innocent lives. “Life!” announced Varnash in his deep, terrifying voice, “It’s pointless. The beings that walk this land are nothing but ash, and I am the pitcher of water that will destroy them once and for all!” Varnash raised his enormous staff in the air with a ram’s skull on the top with charms hanging from it’s eyeballs and noses. “The rulers of this land cannot withstand the power of darkness. Only light can defeat the force of darkness, but these people do not have enough!”

His army of demons roared in agreement, raising their weapons. “The time of war has come upon us, and whoever stands in the way of the demon race, they shall pay! Go forth and find that dreaded Silverbroad clan and bring their leader Roratak to me. If you come across any wizard, kill them!” Varnash pointed downward into the cave where the dwarfs dwelled. The demons charged into the cave, roaring and screeching as they went along.

Down beneath the mountain, Roratak heard a rumble like thunder. People stuttered and stammered. “Ready your weapons!” called Roratak to the dwarf soldiers. The innocent dwarfs began hearing roaring and screeching. A black wave of demons charged at Roratak and the hundred soldiers behind him. Roratak wielded his mace and charged. “RAAAAAAAHHHH!!” The other soldiers followed his path and clashed against the demons, weapon to weapon. Roratak battled a large demon that held a huge hammer. Roratak hit the demon’s leg and it came crashing down to the ground. He swung his mace down on the demon’s face and it lay dead. Dwarfs and demons were sprawled on the ground with blood stained on their bodies, or a weapon stuck in their chest.

Meanwhile, Hornfrost snuck through the battle with an invisibility charm cast on him. He traveled out onto the peak where Varnash stood, casting curses and hexes on the land beneath them. Hornfrost revealed himself with a blast of light. Varnash backed away from the wizard in a blue cloak. “You are the doing of my brother aren’t you!” yelled Hornfrost, “My brother sent you to finish his work!”

“Yes, he did!” responded Varnash, “Your brother’s revenge will be the cause of you bowing the knees of Varnash!”

“I shall never serve to you!” shouted Hornfrost, “The only ones who bow to you are your worthless demons, and my brother!”

“Yes,” said Varnash, “Soon you will too.”

Varnash clasped his staff and aimed it downward. Hornfrost felt his veins being controlled and found himself bowing to Varnash. Hornfrost wailed in pain as Varnash cackled. “I said…BOW!” shouted Varnash and pushed him down into the ground. Hornfrost could feel him being smashed against the surface of the mountain. Roratak glanced out at the peak where he found Varnash in his black cloak. He charged after him to save Hornfrost. Roratak jumped and swung his mace hard into Varnash’s face. Varnash gasped and lost his concentration from Hornfrost. Hornfrost quickly regained his height and aimed his staff at Varnash. “I, Hornfrost,” said Hornfrost, “Cast you back into the shadows where you shall rot as time goes on!” He jabbed his staff at Varnash and sent him backwards down the mountain.

Varnash quickly opened another portal and swept right into it. The demon lord, had survived. Varnash had been the most dangerous, darkest creature to have ever walked the planet and would return to finish the work  of Hornfrost’s fallen brother.