A Different Take on Things

Since he was young, others have taken from him. First, they took his food, and if he tried to stop them, they beat him. Later, they took his toys. Finally, they took his dignity. That was how life was, and Mörken wanted no part of it. One day, while walking to the mine, he kept walking and never looked back. Hunger pains drove him to search for a better life and revenge against those who pushed him down. Mörken would have his day. There was no doubt in his mind.

When Mörken first met the Troth, their kindness and nativity confused him. “How could there be such trusting creatures?” he asked himself. After regaining his strength, he formulated a plan of cunning deceit. If anything, Mörken understood how things worked from his years of toil in the mines. Gathering materials, he began to build machines to make life easier for the Troth. A water wheel to power the grain mill, then a metal plow to clear land for crops, and finally, he showed the Troth how to make weapons to kill the beasts without risking their life. In no time, Mörken became the celebrated savior discussed in Troth legends. Darkness is where he came from, and darkness would twist the Troth’s mind to his will.

The King of the Troth was old and sick, so he was glad when this stranger came and helped his people, but like all good intentions, there is always a hidden price to pay. The King suddenly died, and while no one was surprised due to his recent health, many were concerned that the lack of a leader would cause strife among the Troth. Ta’sac, the captain of the guard, felt he should be the leader, but most felt his violent ways were not the Troth’s. Morlock, who led the council, offered himself as King, but his age brought concerns of another leadership vacuum. Tervis, the head of the merchant’s guild, proclaimed that since he had helped the Troth selflessly, Mörken should be named regent until a proper heir could be found. Humbly, Mörken accepted and, under the guise of forming an effective government, placed those who owed him their prosperity in all positions of power.

Immediately, the Troth came under attack from an unknown enemy. Buildings were burned, crops were razed, and even the waterwheel was destroyed. Mörken had begun, and the Troth’s fear would soon twist their precious ways so they could be used for his dark purposes. As an olive branch, Ta’sac was made council supreme and given the duty to secure the Troth from outside intruders. Daily drills helped convince the kind-hearted folk that they must cast off their old ways or be destroyed by the enemy.

A stroke of luck gave Mörken just what he needed. Hunters from his old home appear in the village, having lost their way. At first, Mörken greeted them with kindness, but after they had recovered, they made the mistake of mocking him in front of his council. That night, after the guests were asleep, their dwelling was set a light, and Ta’sac cut down those who tried to escape. The following morning, Ta’sac and Mörken announced that the guest had been sent to kill Mörken and weaken the Troth for an invasion. Over the next few weeks, the fear of attack and daily lessons in killing gave Mörken what he longed for—a way to seek revenge on those who drove him down and humiliated him.

Autumn came, and the Troth prepared to attack their sworn enemy. As the full moon rose in the sky, the legions of Troth warriors marched toward the mines and Mörken’s revenge. The attacks were swift, and no one was left alive, not young or old. All had to pay for humiliating Mörken. What he had not expected was that the Troth enjoyed the killing. They reveled in the slaughter. Laughter rang out as buildings were burned and axes cut down those escaping. He had become the Dark One, bringing his hate wherever he went.

The raids continued, and one night alone in his tent, Mörken the Dark One decided they all must pay. No one would ever push him down again. Well, that’s how it all appears. He’s been killing and destroying ever since, and he may never stop until all is ash.

But perhaps there is a way, but that’s another story.