P.S.- The first chapter takes place a little later then I said, then it goes back to the past in the second chpater.
Raman, The Imperial Hero
Volume 1, Prologue
4E 110, Just north of Anvil
Raman sat on the grass, his hands tied in front of him, watching. Just watching. There was nothing he could do. The prisoners from Anvil were lined up, and he was about 10th in line of about 2,000. They were prisoners of the Tomans, as most commoners called them. The Tomans were in the process of their ritual after prisoners are taken captive. The Leader druid would go through the line asking each man, women, and child if they wanted to convert to the Cult of Tomai. If the answer was yes, then the person would be clothed in white and away to be "baptized". After that, they would officially be in the Cult of Tomai. That's what happened to the first man. If you think it over a little, it's a convenient process, the more you conquer, the more followers you gain. Plus, why would anyone choose death over being clothed in white and treated nicely? It's because of what happens after the "baptizing", a process begins in the person. A disease forms, commonly called "Inkpox". The Inkpox disease is closely related to vampirism. The person becomes stronger the longer they are infected and eventually become giant beasts capable of ripping heads off with two fingers. Eventually, in exactly 5 years after the infection, the person dies. So, the prisoner has a choice of 5 years of evil or immediate death if they do not accept.
"Easy," Raman thought, "I'll just accept and be done with this!"
The second man was a different story. He was in his 60s, and he obviously didn't understand much of what was currently going on. He kept vigorously shaking his head with a confused expression on his face when the Druid was questioning him. It wasn't long before a jet of blood sprayed from the man's neck, and he fell limp to the ground.
Now there was an army in the camp surrounding the prisoners, and a soldier wearing white armor with grey trim with a two handed sword hanging from his abdomen, and obviously of high rank from the camp said to the druid, "Screw it, we don't need any followers right now, and this is taking too long. The enemy will be here soon. Take them to the guillotine!" Raman saw two soldiers go with the man to get the guillotine. They, as well, looked as if they were high ranked.
Before long, the Guillotine was dragged to where the prisoners were. "Great, just great!" thought Raman. he saw 4 men, a woman, and two childeren beheaded, and then it was his turn. When he was staggering slowly towards the blade he heard a man say, "Sometimes the blade sticks, they say. Can't wait to see that happen." Another guard looked at him with a puzzled expression on his face, a young man. He clearly wasn't bloodthirsty like the other man.
Raman gulped as his slowly put his head in the primative machine, slippery with blood. He heard a feint noise, a familiar one, and one he wasn't fond of at all. A whistling sound, a slow "hisssh". Raman closed his eyes and waited for the blade to come down.