UGH...! Do you know how hard it is for someone like me to actually sit down and write? Very hard. So, here's something simple and fun for me to just write while I think about the meaning of life and the universe and yada yada. Don't look to close into this because you're not gonna get an answer to your deepest desires, alright?

Anyways, without further ado, here's the short tale of the legendary Big Bill by me, CrossPaladin.

I hope you enjoy.


Fourteen Billion Years ago, our universe was created. What was once a pinpoint of cosmic power exploded into a brillance of dust and light. And this dust and light mingled, creating our planets and stars. Our galaxies.

And in an insignificant galaxy, on an insignificant planet, life budded. First it was aquatic, but then it grew, it festered. It grew legs and took to the land, and it roared and bit. But most importantly, it survived.

And throughout the ages, life survived, from dinosaurs to mammoths, to tiny little squirrles that quite frankly need to die. But there is a time that has been all but forgotten by man. The Age of Myth and Fairytales.

A time were beautiful elves danced naked in the fields singing songs of praise to nature. A time were the solemn dwarves mined in their halls of stone singing praise to the earth. A time were the sirens sung ballads that brought sailors to their doom. Huh...there was an awful lot of singing.

There were also gnomes. They were there too, I guess...and there was a lot of murder, like holy crap. Wendigos eating your flesh, vampires draining your blood and werewolves tearing you apart limb from limb with no hint of mercy. And sometimes the cutest things were the deadliest. Like those little pixie bitches. They'd tease you with their tiny little dresses, and BAM! Half your face melted off...

...anyways. In the time of myths there were many, many, many things that could kill you. But none were more feared than the mighty dragon. With claws that could tear the moon from the sky, and wings that could blot out the sun, the great dragons were rightfully kings of their time.

There were once two mighty dragons, one of red and one of blue. The red one's very existence ignited the grass and left a trail of flames as it soared through the sky. The blue one cackled with lightning and stormclouds followed its every movement. Of course, two great beasts were destined to meet, and they did.

And they fought, as mighty creatures are wont to do. The battle was cataclysmic, filled with explosions and death and screams of little children. It tore the earth and sky asunder, and brought extinction to nearly every creature of myth and legend. But neither beast, despite their power, could best the other.

In one last desperate attack, they breathed their strongest breaths. And the cackle of fire and lightning collided,and the ensuing explosion enveloped the two dragons.

And their ashes fell. And they mingled, like the dust of the universe. And from those ashes, he rose.


A man of eight feet, born completely formed. His beard was thick and dark, his eyes piercing and powerful. Bill had seen the destruction wrought by the dragons, and made it his goal to fix it, as the world needed beauty to survive.

And with Bill's birth came the end of the age of myth and legend, and a new age: The Age of Man.

From the shadows he hid, helping humanity pick up after the great distaster, helping them grow and strengthen themselves. He would assist when necessary, and vanish when he was no longer needed. He did not know how long he did this, as the years passed and passed and he lost his sense of time.

But humans were a violent breed. And no matter what age, Bill would find himself in some sort of conflict. A conflict that was meaningless to him as he was completely unstoppable. He could crush the skulls of humans like crumpling a wet bag. He was impervious to all their weapons, and a mere flick of his finger could blow their torso's halfway across the land.

Seeing so much violence, Bill gave up on humanity. He kept living his life, but now he did not help. Now, all he wanted was death.

Until he met her.

The woman with hair like liquid silver, with eyes that shined like the moon. She would smile and dance and on the fateful day they met, his hope in humanity grew once again. For if the world could create a beauty like her, then perhaps, it was worth keeping around.

And their love created a child. A child Bill swore he would always protect. He had a knew purpose in life. Not to make the world perfect, but to make the lives of his family perfect. And Bill would do anything to keep it so. Even if it meant returning to the ways of violence.

But there's still a part of him that desires that death. So many years, hundreds, many. They began to blend together, and even with a family, the past was unforgettable.