Tiebreaker

Before there was death there was pain, and a race called the Mallis that spread it. They would race through the world spreading anguish in their wake with weapons not known at the time. Abducting the bravest of people and animals, to torture all courage out of them in the dankest depths. The world outside of this race was peaceful, innocent and unsuspecting, and it was this world the Mallis chose as their prey. 1

Nowhere not even the small town of Nivisa was safe from the Mallis’ blood thirst and savagery. They arrived in unsuspected large numbers, charging towards the thatched-roof village with ear-splitting cries of inhuman nature. As the Mallis rampaged an orphaned boy hid his young brother in a small barn, and, in effort to protect him, attempted battle against the Mallis using a dull scythe he had found. The boy was no match, and was quickly overthrown. Though impaled three times in the side, the boy still breathed and his eyes would not dim. He battled on in vain, though pain clutched his side with iron fists. The faceless shadow figures of the Mallis saw fortitude and valor in the boy and saw him as an immediate threat. They briskly whisked him off to their dungeons to break him down into one of them.2

Day through day the boy was lacerated, so that he could be reborn as one of the Mallis, but he resisted. Whether his bones unhinged, or his flesh burned and ripped the boy thought only of his young brother and how he must return to him. The boy never stopped silently wishing to the gods, that his agony would cease, and he would be reunited with his brother. Weeks and months past, with every torture growing worse and still the suffering did not end. Soon the boy stopped appealing to the gods and started praying to the demons, requesting the end of his anguish. To his surprise one soon answered. And the demon Dolus arrived. She was a small imp with fire hair and a twisted body of ice below her shoulders. She gave a warped smile as she stared into the boy’s eyes with malicious intent.3

“We really need someone like you.” Dolus said as she handed the boy a black cloak. “There is only one way to stop the pain,” she explained. “But for it you’ll need a weapon.” The boy asked for the scythe he had used to first fight the Mallis, and it was given to him. “We need you to vanquish pain; with you around people will find refuge. From wounds, age and disease, you will stop it all.” Looking at the weapon in his hand the boy asked, “What of my pain? Of my brother?” “You will stop your pain.” Dolus explained. “And your brother, you will see him soon enough.” Eyes full of devilry, wicked smile warped Dolus took one more look at the boy. “What is your name?” she asked. The boy looked back at her through his dark hood and with a flash in his eyes he replied.4

“Death”5