"Hero's End"
Once, there was a warrior of great renown. A paladin of light, hope, for the people. He fought for no king, no queen. He was pure and everywhere he went hope followed. This champion was not of noble birth but a man from the people. He traveled far and wide only on the word of others and his faith in them to guide his destiny. There was no evil he would not face, no pain he would not endure for them. Because he was one of them. This champion was not one to let innocence suffer.

As the years went by his legend grew. People far and wide spread tales of his victories over evil. The horrors he faced to save a child. The pains he endured to defeat corruption. The legend grew into something else. Soon people began to question the stories. Laugh at the legend. Tell the champion the darkness was just his shadow. Only time would tell the truth.

The day came, a village in need of a savior. They sent riders in all direction looking for a champion against the dark forces that lured people to their deaths. One rider found the hero at an inn. Telling the palidine of great dark force uncovered by a woodsman. A voice that called out to the village in their darkest dreams to lead men, woman, and the children young enough to follow down into the depths of the earth. A scream, and dark beasts came from this unholy site. It hungered for flesh and blood. Slowly turning the nearby wood into a den for the forces of hell. With only a nod the hero stood and left the inn towards the direction of this new evil. He rode for days. Then weeks, till at last getting to the village. 

Many of the homes were abandoned and boarded shut. Those left eyed the hero cautiously as he strode through their town. They looked starved, living together in fear so thick the paladin could smell it off them. They spoke of the woods and how those that entered never came back. The screams that would pierce the nights as unholy creatures made the ruins their temple, doing evil deeds, there in the dark. Those left in the village had learned to bind themselves at night lest they wonder off as well. Indeed this was an evil no mere mortal could defeat. The people offered the champion all that they had for his salvation. The man asked only for some food and water for both he, and his horse. At night he would listen and track this evil to its source. Then he vowed to confront and defeat it saving those he could. 

Night came to the small village. The screams were heard and followed only by him. Wandering into the woods, deeper he went. Till the opening of a cavern the hero found. Examining the site showed signs of it once being a mine long forgotten. A blood chilling scream echoed from its depths. Foot prints at the mouth of the entrance assured it was indeed the place. Drawing his sword the hero entered. At first it was just a cavern with the musk of dampness and earth. The echo of trickling water trailed off in the distance. As he descended deeper the light of the full moon faded behind him the hero lit a torch and held it like a shield against the dark. His path soon lead to an archway with stairs of stone diving deeper still. Deeper into the dark did the paladin go.

Down forgotten corridors and great halls did he travel. Slaying beast and demon alike in the dark. Time lost its meaning as well as the way back. Still fearless, and on the path to salvation for the village above the champion pressed onward. Pursuing for the truth left after so long in the dark, alone. The paladin found a great room what looked like a hall where kings would hold court. There were long tables and old chairs and indeed a throne for both king and a queen. The hearth was dark. Using a chair and his torch the hero lit the hearth till the room became warm and there in the corner did a final enemy linger.

A flash of metal glinted the light of the hearth from the corner almost as fast as the hero could react. They both rushed each other till at last they stood face to face. But here was no monster of legend. No demon from the depths covered in the blood of children. It had just been a mirror propped in the corner left forgotten from a long time ago. Sheathing his sword the hero laughed as he approached. His figure was one of exhaustion and filth. Then curiosity drew him closer. The edges of the frame grew darker as the hero looked on unaware. The figure changed to that of mocking ridicule of what was now before it. Laughter could be heard as a deafening thunder. The weight of his own sword became heavy, his armor faded. All that remained was the man beneath. And it was there where he saw the truest beast. The demon that hid in the dark. It was made flesh by each act of heroism. Given breath with every lie he held as truth. Soon laughter turned to weeping. Weeping turned to rage, and with all that rage the screaming began. Behind the glass stood the paladin, in front was something far darker. The demon donned the armor and turned it black and twisted. It held the sword as its muscles grew. Behind the visor the eyes glowed red. Turning the demon champion of the people left the reflection of what had been in the dark. 

With each step it took the memories returned. The mocking, laughter, disbelief, coveting their greed for life with false lies and all the while offering him up as a sacrifice to their fears. Their falsehoods turning its stomach. Their weaknesses forcing his hand. Until at the mouth of the cavern did it rise from the depths. It moved towards the village silently. Greeting every person with death as they stood frozen in disbelief at the horror they had made. All their blood was splattered on walls and seeped into the ground. Their champion, their savior, their executioner had come to collect the rest for the fear and cowardice that they were so desperate to be free of that they willingly tried to kill a good man in their stead. 

However, this man was a savior, a liberator of the people! Not so easily defeated. And while the village fell silent the hero walked to his blood stained horse. The closer he got the more it cried out. Stomping its hooves and breathing smoke. The coat turning from white to grey. Its eyes went from a shine of life to the ghostly white. Soon it bore the rider. And they rode off toward the next village in need of salvation. Behind them rose the bodies of the people. Dead eyes and broken bodies they followed their leader, their champion into the dark.