3No color . . . sheer tranquility . . . utter stillness. What seemed to be a realistic image, perceived from the Caster's view, lay an obscure wasteland. Khabal shouted in question, "Do you not see my horrid Past?" A long dramatic pause followed the inquiry as the One answered himself saying; "Do you not smell the bloodshed your ancestors brought upon this plain I once called home? This is just a mental picture, but this . . ." Khabal paused, thrusting the sword high above his head, "is the suffering I lived with for eight eternities!" The sky changed a pinkish hue, as the heavens opened up, and a blinding white light embraced the children. The white light was then painted red as the force knocked back the crowd of Casters, revealing a crater where the young had once stood. The others just laid there in shock, mouths gaping wide. Just as the Casters were beginning to rise, and even consider slaughtering this One, a rampage of horses stampeded by with men mounted atop. Their swords were drawn; showing signs for a war that would soon be engaged. Torches were held high, and so was the regiment's spirit. Just the sight of this, struck fear within the Casters. Each one of them thought, "What's happening? Why has this One chosen us? Is this all real?" "Ready fire!" Yelled Garoen, the regiment's leader. Soldiers knelt down in front of the men on horses, with their shields in front, and swords drawn back. At that moment, time seemed like it stood still. Each man copying the other perfectly lined side by side. A cold sweat trickled down each one's face. In the distance, a shadow grew, taking form of a full-fledged army. The sun just began to set as a cry rang throughout the Rahjin Wastelands. The first wave of Casters arrived. Again time froze. The One stood there, balancing the sword by its hilt on the tip of his index finger. While he did this, he instructed one of the Casters saying, "Stand in front of this man." Khabal pointed towards one of the frozen swordsman. "He would be your ancestor Darin." "I-I-I'm afraid-d." Answered the Caster. "Stand there now!" "B-But I-I . . ." "Fine." " . . ." As the blood drew down his pale face, the Caster's eye's rolled back in his head, and the white glaze took over. The lifeless body hit the ground, and disintegrated into a pile of dust. Khabal then clapped his hands and it disappeared. The One pointed towards another Caster saying, "Stand in front of this man." He pointed towards another frozen swordsman. "This is your ancestor Lafayette." The Caster hurried over to where Khabal directed him, and then stood still. Khabal, still balancing the sword without a flinch, preached to the Casters saying, "Your life depends upon those before you. When your ancestors had slain my people, I felt as though my life balanced on the tip of death's finger." At that moment, the sword lost its balance, hitting the ground. Time unfroze, as Lafayette thrust his sword through the Caster standing in his way. Khabal's grin widened, as an evil laughter ruptured from within his black soulless heart. The small group of Casters stood there, watching the battle continue, with the devil's face shown overhead in the gray sky. All they could think of was why the One had really brought them here, and if they could escape his sick and demented game.
Kain woke up from his heart-startling vision . . . palms sweaty, eyes bloodshot, and head throbbing. He sat up, looking around the room thinking to himself, "Was that a dream?" He could only remember parts of the vision, not able to make anything of these fragments. As he lifted his weary body up and out of his bed, he slowly walked into the next room, sitting on the rocking chair. There he rocked back and forth . . . staring out of the window, trying to remember it all. Sitting there, Kain could see a man walk past the window . . . a man he did not recognize. Kain got up from his chair opening the door, and peeking outside. The strange man climbed atop the Casters Well and calling out, "Casters! The time has come! Lend me your ears as I begin my sad reminiscence of your elder's era. Gather round this well from which I speak, do not hesitate, for I do not bring forth harm upon your town!" All of the children were gathered around him, hanging onto every word that left his mouth. "What's happening? This is my dream!" Thought Kain. But still he stood there, anxious to see what the One would do next. "I shall begin!" He threw his arms up, directing them towards the heavens, conjuring a sword out of thin air. "No!" Yelled Kain. But no one heard him. As The One wielded the sword skillfully, he struck a shield of air that hung motionless before him, and released a gut bursting scream from within his chest. An ambience of light ruptured from each and every pore of his body, as the world disintegrated, and rebuilt itself in the Past. Kain opened his eyes, and saw an obscure wasteland, just like his vision. But this was different. Khabal wasn't there, and neither were the other Casters. "Reveal yourself Khabal! I know what you're doing! None of this is real!" Yelled Kain. But no one responded to his demand. "Coward! All you're doing is showing your true likeness! Damn you and your foolish attempts to lock me away in your alternate reality of Hell! You won't win Khabal! Surrender now cretin!" A ring of fire came up from the ground, and surrounded Kain. He could feel the heat of the flames increase, as the sky grew darker. "Is that all you got? That's nothing! I know everything you show here is a fake! Now reveal yourself!" "Why aren't you afraid?" Asked Khabal. Kain turned around, seeing the One standing there in front of him. "Why should I be afraid of you? Because you can make fire dance around me, or deprive reality of its real appearance?" "No. You should be afraid because I can make you experience real suffering and pain." "Why do you want to bring such cruelty upon me and my people?" "Because your people did the same to mine. All I want now is revenge!" "For eternities you sat here thinking . . . and all you could think of was revenge? Pity are your acts of what you call revenge! This isn't vengeance . . . this is meaningless, brutal bloodshed!" "Draw your sword!" Yelled Khabal. "I do not have one." Khabal sighed, picking up a handful of dirt. With this, he molded the shape of a sword's hilt. He then threw it above his head, as it grew a blade, and the hilt transformed into a nicely handcrafted stainless steel. Kain caught it with his left hand, noticing a shield in his right. "Draw your sword!" Yelled Khabal. "Gladly."
Lightning whipped the bare sides of the Rahjin Mountains as swords clashed. A faint wind crept atop the clouds, peeking over the edge to watch the one- on-one battle below. Kain was dripping with sweat from the immense pressure to keep a strong grip on the handle of evil's bane. Under the weight of Khabal's sharp blade, Kain fell to his knees, still resisting the evil pursuing it's thrive for pain. As Kain rolled to his left, Khabal had no other choice but to tumble over, receiving a crucial slice, which removed his left foot. There laid Khabal, laughing and criticizing Kain for his "foolish attempts to survive." "You reprove me? Yet I am not the one who lays on the ground open for a piercing of the heart!" Exclaimed Kain. Kain lunged forward, blade aiming at Khabal's chest. But before Kain delivered a nicely done blow to the One, the victim ceased visibility. Kain was sprawled on the dust-covered ground as pain shot through his entire body from the unsuspected fall. "Get up. I'm sure you can endure a slight stumble." Said the One, who was now standing straight in front of him with a newly grown foot. Kain rose, glaring at Khabal with fierce eyes. A momentary pause killed time for barely two seconds, as the swords met, blade-grinding blade once again. "Do you know why I am here?" Khabal questioned Kain. "To eliminate my people and I." Answered Kain, while he pushed the One forward, and parried another blow. "You brought me here." Corrected Khabal, who knocked Kains sword upon the ground. "What?" "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have been freed from the Underworld which lies beneath the Rahjin Desert." "But I never . . ." "Silence! Watch my tale." Khabal's sword shot a beam of light into the night sky, and split the atmosphere, as it crumbled around the two, and revealed the long forgotten past of the Casters.
"EIGHT ETERNITIES AGO, LIVED A TRIBE OF CASTERS WHO WERE ON THE VERGE OF ANOTHER WAR AGAINST THE UNDEAD WHO HAD BEEN AGAIN ARISEN FROM THE DEPTHS OF THE UNDERWORLD. THE TRIBE OF THE CLERICS TRAVELED FAR FROM THE SHASTONARIA WASTELANDS TO ASIST THE CASTERS IN THEIR TIME OF NEED. THE CASTERS AGRRED TO THEIR GENEROUS OFFER, INCREASING THEIR REGIMENT TWENTY TIMES THE ORIGINAL SIZE. WHEN THE UNDEAD AROSE, AND TOOK FORM ALONG THE VAST RAHJIN PLAIN, THE ARMY OF CASTERS AND CLERICS COLLIDED WITH EVIL. THIS SIXTEEN- DAY BATTLE ENDED AS THE CASTERS CELEBRATED THEIR VICTORY OVER THE UNDEAD BY SLAUGHTERING 200,000 CLERICS. THIS DAY OF COLD BLOODSHED LIVED FOREVER WITHIN THE HISTORY OF THE RAHJIN DESERT."
Slowly, the world rebuilt itself with Khabal and Kain standing in front of one another. There they stood. "Only One survived this demented massacre of the clerics. He has come back, proclaiming the title 'sorcerer of the Undead'. Vengeance upon the Casters is the only sort of compromise he will consider . . . and I will not rest until every single one of you has suffered the way I have! The brutal torture I watched my people go through, has not left my memory since then!" "We are not the same people has our elders!" Screamed Kain, hoping to get through to Khabal. "How can you expound this assumption of yours? You do not know of what you speak! You did not have to live alone forever!" Khabal's eyes glazed over, and his mouth released a terrifying call for the Undead. Everywhere creatures of the Underworld arose from the ground. Kain's eyes had never witnessed a more horrifying sight before. Zombies, Imps, Shadow beasts, Flesh Reavers, Frightcrawlers, and every other childhood horror crept across the massive Rahjin plain. Kain stood there, looking all around himself, seeing as how he could not survive this. He knew his fate had already been determined starting from the day he called the One Khabal.