The Hero's Tragedy

    Prologue     Elves are a very unique people who reside in the world of Alterra. Their culture has existed since the beginning of time despite there never being no more than a few tens of thousands during their golden age. Throughout the eras of the human calendar, as the elves had no calendar, there were many times that elves almost disappeared entirely. This is due in large part to the persecution they faced from the other intelligent peoples of Alterra. Humans, Dwarves, Beastkin and even the Demonkind all resented the elves for the same reason, they were envious. Elves existed outside of common sense, they did not age, nor were they ever born with any defects. Every elf was born perfect, they were truly a race beloved by the gods.   Amongst the many monsters that roamed Alterra, there were none who were ageless. Even dragons, the most long lived creature imaginable, would eventually grow old and wearied. Elves were the only exception. Magic research proved that once elves reached their prime, time would cease to have any affect on their body.   Due to this fact, elves were commonly enslaved and forced to become specimens for cruel experiments or sometimes they were used to breed long lived nobles and royalty who could live up to 250-300 years with the half blood of a pure elf. Fortunately or unfortunately, many elves had a rather apathetic attachment to life and thus many commited suicide without hesitaion upon being captured. This of course did little to discourage mortals from trying.   Because of their immortality, elves craved a quiet and peaceful life, they did not perceive boredom like mortals did. Simply lying around all day wasn’t a wasteful thing, it was natural. On top of that, elves were seldom motivated to become stronger as a people. They were farmers at heart, not fighters.   Inevitably there came a time when mortals had to unite under one banner. An elven Archmage named Mantra and his undead followers destroyed countless countries and murdered millions of mortals. Humans suffered the most damage and they pleaded to the other mortal races to help them. The dwarves were the first to answer the call to aid, but they were beaten brutally by Archmage Mantra. Next the beastkin marched on the hordes of undead and they too, were utterly crushed. And finally, the demons, the most numerous of the mortals, came to join the fight.   Only by their combined efforts and the appearance of God’s Hero, were they able to push the Archmage back and recover their way of life. After the Hero defeated Archmage Mantra with the help of god’s blessing, he created an empire that sprawled all across the world ruled by a coalition of their races. Mortals' lives improved immensely; the monsters were pushed back into the uninhabitable corners of the world; and the land itself became a safer, more comfortable place to live.   Everything was righted with the Archmage dead, but this war created an even greater rift between mortals and the elves, afterall, the reason Archmage Mantra grew so powerful was because of his long lifespan. Elves became mankind’s greatest threat, and thus issued a worldwide bounty. Kill all the elves.   The elves as a race had nothing to do with the Archmage, but nobody cared enough to listen to their pleas. Within a year of the decreed bounty, there were no elves left on any continent, and they had finally ceased to be after an eternity of existence.   “And so ends the Tale of The Immortal Elves” There was a quiet applause all around me as my fellow audience listened to the withered old storyteller in the corner of a dim tavern close to midnight.   “Hey old man, is that all true? I find it hard to believe that elves were the victims.” Said one of the audience.   The storyteller gazed at him from under his hood, “Believe whatever you like, it doesn’t change the truth. The elves have been persecuted since long before Archmage Mantra ever lived, and it was us mortals that nearly drove the final nail into our coffin. If the Gods hadn’t bailed us out, the Archmage would have easily dominated the world.”   I asked what had been on my mind since the middle of the story, “Did they actually manage to kill the Archmage, you said defeated, not killed after all.”   The storyteller raised his eyebrows, “I am not a historian, I only know that the Archmage’s body was never shown to the public. So I can't say for sure if he died, but I figured that would be the case, as there is no longer an undead army wandering about.” I only nodded to myself before he continued, “Of course, they say he was a master necromancer, so who knows.”   Another of the audience spoke up, “But if he does come back, does that mean a new hero will be chosen?” There was somber silence all around, everybody already heard the news about the true hero. He was very old and had fallen ill, definitely in no shape for a rematch with the Archmage.   The old man broke the silence first, “Only time will tell, but I can say one thing, even though what we did to the elves sixty years ago was horrible, it was a necessary evil. The elves are too dangerous to be left alive. With enough time, they can become walking calamities, the Archmage is a prime example.” People voiced their agreement all around and like always, society’s open bloodthirst toward elves was unsettling.   I didn’t really understand what their hatred stemmed from, from the beginning, the elves only wanted to be left alone. They never started any conflicts or tried to lord over others despite their power, the humans were most likely the ones at fault for the Archmage’s invasion, so how could they just blame the elves for something they are born with.   Another round of drinks were passed around but I decided not to partake as I had no money. I pushed through the crowd to exit the cramped building just as another story was starting. I didn’t stop to listen though, I had got what I came for. Elves. I couldn’t help but scoff at the word. It was strange how a simple word could hold so much weight.   I walked down the cobbled road, it wasn’t lit well so there were plenty of places to hide if it came to it. Although it was already past midnight, the taverns and alehouses were still stocked full of people. The humans must be holding a festival or something. I couldn’t imagine that things were this rowdy every night.   As I neared the slums, where I knew I could find free lodging in one of the abandoned houses, it got significantly darker. I knew this area was dangerous, especially at nighttime, but there was a saving grace. While the dark meant it was easier for someone to do something underhanded, it also made for a nice spot to hide out. The opportunity to use said shadows came faster than expected. Before I realized the danger, several very armed and armored individuals sprung forth from the decrepit alleyways.   “How can I help you folks?” I glanced around hoping to see some sort of escape.   The raspy voice of their ringleader caught me off guard. “It really is you, I never got a good look at your face, but I would remember that pathetic voice anywhere.”   Confusion addled my brain, I don’t know anybody in this town. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.” I said. He answered by throwing a dagger into my chest. Ah f**k, now I remember him.