Naraka (may change)

Svaltus the Narakan prince, often is his species referred to as "longevity lizard" though their true name is Naraka which is Sanskrit for hell. (sanskrit is a real language by the way)

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1. Birth Of A Prince.

The dusty book, the leather cover decorated with metal rhinestones and the royal crest stamped into an iron plate on the centre. "The war of Yamarin V" was the book the prince held in his hands, flicking through the pages with his sharp talons.

"I wish I was older you know" Svaltus, the unkowing Naraka spoke to his pet, a small Blackhound puppy named Lucien, who barked shortly after the words reached his ears.

The Svaltus continued to read;

 'Let man's blood flow upon the rivers of the rift, brothers!'

An almighty cheer of the lizardlike demons echoed throughout the battle grounds. "Charge!" The elder spoke with zeal as the two armies of creatures rushed towards each other, spears entering chest cavities, swords severing limbs but the most dangerous weapon among the thousands was the Delion, a sword as long as six feet and sharper than a boneboar's tooth. The blade came crashing down upon the small units of Devan soldiers, smashing their skulls with ease.

The Delion rose again and swung in a left arc, cutting down the soldiers.'

and with that, Svaltus closed the book he had picked up from the Grimoir , the royal library.

Svaltus was only a mere hundred years old, fifteen to you and I mortals. He left the library and began making his way to the Crimson Spire, there was a death match taking place and he just had to see his brethren slaughter each other for entertainment. He stopped at the iron gates and waited for Ysil, his uncle. Ysil was a man of great power, the high king actually, broad and stood around eight feet tall. He was nearly as old as earth too but that to his species whom are nigh immortal is just around fifty years or more.

Svaltus was the only heir left after the Yaramin war that happened just before his birthing on Snowshade island. So he would be forced to become king. He did not know this, he was yet to be birthed as a prince. The 'Birth' is a test all royalty have to take and they are taken out of the safehaven, the rift and are pitted against their fellow heirs and wild beasts to eliminate the weaklings.

Ysil stood next to his nephew and took his hand unto his own, led him to high king's seat where the began watching the gruesome entertainment of kin against kin, the left opponent was named Gramor and he was pitted against Greywall, a beastlike Naraka who was large, very large; his stocked figure around seven feet tall and his body mass entirley made up of muscle and bone.

Greywall's weapon was named Tramish, a big hatchet with a curve at the top, made for swinging and hooking.  Gramor was a fast and nimble fighter better handed with daggers and the like though many classed him as weak in strength his mental phisique was of the upmost finesse.

Battle, some would say, requires wits moreso than brawn but only to a limited number of figfhters, after ten or so even the most skilled warriors struggle to refrain from going bezerk, when they do that becomes their downfall, a wise man once said that raw power is hard to control.

The sun shone heavily upon the dark, thick soil that was enriched with bits of crushed obsidian that gave it its dark colour; soon crushed underfoot by Gramor as he approached Greywall, who raised his blade with a slight struggle, keeping it around his head, putting it out infront of him as a barrier

 

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