Losing the smile of Goddess.

There he was, standing on a road of wealthy town, proud like general leading an army to victory. There he was. Thomas, the son of Siegfried Eicheim. The man who once held up promises and possibilities of a knight in shining armor.

There was no shining armor. Instead there was a beaten, battered and even bloodied armor worn. A large, chipped sword covered in guts and gore in his hand while the shield bearing the insignia of Eicheim family was firmly clasped on the left. He was fighting, but against what? Masses of dark figures spaced back and forth past him. Every now and then few of those shadows dispatched from the moving mass with pitchforks, sickles and whatnot to face the redhaired brute who fought with such viciousity and brutelity one could classify as bloodthirsty.

A broad swing was swept around, cleaving through cheeks of a dark form, sending blood and several teeth flying in an arch. Next Thomas' shield was thrust forth, striking another poor man right in the throat and causing him to collapse down on knees while desperately gasping for air. The next moment, the brute had found his sword stuck deep in another one's guts. With a mighty roar and pull he forced his blade to exit through the victim's side and baring the man's insides to plain view.

What he was fighting for? To defend? To cleanse? To take back what was rightfully his? Those thoughts raced in his head as he kept swinging his sword from side to side, up and down, meeting flesh and blood with every stroke. Then the answer came as he suddenly brandished his sword up in the air while bellowing mighty command from the bottom of his lungs, "Gather the loot! Kill the children!". He couldn't believe what he had said, what words came out of his mouth. In that instant light peeked out from the sky, illuminating the sinister battleground.

Peasants and their wives and children laid dead around Thomas. Each one had terrified look in their faces. As if dark shroud had swept over their homes, stealing their hopes, dreams and beloved away in few quick moments. With shock, Thomas eyes kept wandering on the ground, staring at the massacre he had himself caused while twisted abominations appeared. Behind buildings, trees and even emerging from shadows these infernal entities came rushing by. They were armed with wings, twisting talons and huge claws. Their mouth were full of spikes and tusks that could rip anything and anyone apart. These demons had heed the call of Tom, and rallied up to invade each house present to steal gold, food and kill sleeping babies and sick elders.

"This is the glory you've sought?", was heard behind shocked Thomas. He recognized the voice and the shock soon turned into a shame as he looked over his shoulder to see an aged man with gray short beard. He was tall and powerful, wearing ornate armour and wielding a spear in his hands.
"F-Father, I-I have missed y-", Thomas tried to utter, but he was interrupted as this other man brought a fist across Thomas' seek. "You call me Father! Yet your deeds speak otherwise. Look closely, you miserable maggot, is this the Eicheim legacy? Is this the future you've dreamed? Tell me, you worthless excuse of soul. How does it feel to be a demon, a frick'n scum scraped off the very bottom of waste barrel?" Each word this man said made Thomas' breathing harder, forcing him to gasp and fetch for awhile before he could reply.
"Sire! I've done all I can. I've pursued my dream.. Yah, I admit I'm no perfection, but I did this for others, for a king, for a peasent... For a place to call home.." He said with more confidence and anger, feeling the bloodlust all again as the infernal creatures had stopped their looting and formed ranks behind Thomas.
The aged knight only frowned as he replied, "You are not my son any longer. To get a home, you've destroyed so many of them. You're nothing but a common [b]thief[/b]"

That was it. Thief, it was the magic word to trigger unholy rage within Thomas, making him lose all the respect towards the man he used to call father. The very man who had made Thomas to the man he is now. With fury, Thomas lashed forward to grasp his father by throat before bringing the tip of his sword in his father's mouth, before the killing blow Thomas roared out the final goodbye: "[b]Die! You horrible excuse of father![/b]". Then his vision blackened as the sound of blade cleaving through flesh echoed in his ears.

Thomas woke up, springing up to sit on his bed. The shock caused by the nightmare had caused his heart to skip a beat. With unbelieving look in his eyes he looked down on his hands. "Father, what I have done to you?", He muttered in sad tone. He had forgotten the very promise he made in Nyrthlond and even worse, he had forgotten his ancestry, the Eicheim insignia. He felt sick. That nightmare felt too real. Heck, he could even smell the blood and taste the carnage. With his eyes escaping towards the sole window of guardhouse to see the nightly moon, he became certain of one thing; The Goddess wasn't smiling upon him.