It was early in the morning, crisp with an advancing overcast coming from the north-east. Two guardsmen of the Crown were making their way towards His Majesties Royal Vault inside Cafeld Castle. Everyone behind the stone walls of the keep were on edge. Peasants from the neighboring villages had all congregated at the front gates demanding less taxes and more support against advancing armies. War was knocking on their door, be it against an alien foe or a civil revolution.

Just before breakfast was served to His Majesty's beautiful new young queen, a servent reported that he had heard a loud ruckus from the Vault and that it sounded like someone had broken in. Sir Dahl and Sir Woodstead were sent to investigate.

"What do you think friend," Sir Dahl jested, "be our intruder rat or boar?"

"I have no doubt that some form of swine is in our Lord's tresure room," Woodstead retorted. "And as serviceable men of the Crown, we will swiftly butcher whatever pig dares defile the home of our King."

The two knights turned the corner and walked past the inner courtyards of the castle and found themselves at the Vaults entrence.

"No sign of forced entry," Sir Woodstead noted as he kneeled near the base of the massive vault door. Everything seemed utterly intact, with not a peculiar scratch to be found.

"Smart pig," Sir Dahl replied as he took the door in hand and swung it open for their entry. Nothing seems out of place at first glance as they entered the massive chamber. The vault itself made up of mostly shelves full of important treasures looted from far off lands and the local peasant's gold.

Further in though, things looked quite strange. Standing in the middle of the vault was a tall brutish man wearing ornate blood red armor. In his hands held one of the King's greatest artifacts, The Scarlet Helm of The Bastard. The helm was thought to encase the living breathing soul of the God of War himself, but such legends were usually hushed into submission.

"You!," Sir Dahl shouted at the mystery thief, "drop the piece now or feel the sting of our blades you porker!"

Sir Woodstead did his best not to giggle at his partner's insult, raising his sword with him.

"Yes, drop the helm now and we will make sure your execution is swift."

The mysterious man looked up from the helm, his face completely hidden in the shadows. Defiantly, the man rose the helm above his head and placed it upon himself. The two Knights noticed that they could hear the man finally begin to breath as soon as the helm was worn.

"No, for I am no thief," the now fully suited being replied. The helm matched his armor perfectly, a full set finally restored. "For I am Vas, the Bastard. God of War born of blood and harbinger of glory."

Sir Dahl and Sir Woodstead looked at each other in confusion and doubt.

"Good try peasant," Sir Dahl replied in spite, "try to scare us with false names and thievery. Any half-assed blacksmith can make cheap armor like yours. Now remove the helm now!"

Vas shook his head and chuckled to himself. These two were truely fools. A piss poor excuse for knights and guardsmen, idiotic at that.

The God of War began to walk towards them, his every casual step shaking the ground as if a great beast was charging. The two knights held their ground, holding their swords out ready to strike.

"Can you not hear the them outside," Vas taunted, "hell hath come to your doorstep and all your king cares for is his little pretty nothings. Why serve such a wretched coward when you can die in real combat?"

Without warning, Sir Woodstead charged Vas. The knight swung savagely at the God, hoping to end this affair. The God of War grabbed the blade in mid-swing, crushing the steel into powder with his gloved hand. Woodstead looked onto Vas in utter terror, clutching the remains of his sword for dear life.

"Death it is," Vas announced. The god took the knight by the forehead, crushing the iron helm until a wet unsavory pop caused blood to gush. He then lifted the man straight up into the air and slammed him deep into the ground, almost literally burying the fool to his waist past the cobblestone floors. Vas took no joy for this, but mortal had to learn somehow.

During all of this, Sir Dahl had bolted from the Vault and towards the nearest guard station. Tears ran down the knight's eyes, for The God of War had truely returned.