Deathreaper

It was a dark and stormy night and as the rain pelted the thick stone walls of the decaying fortress Deathreaper stared blankly into the large gem he was holding. Lightning flashed outside and as the thunder rumbled down the long empty coridors the gem began to glow with a pale green light. This was the time of reckoning for the leader of the death goblins. All of his warriors had been slain and he was the last goblin alive in a world of aliens far more violent than any he had encountered in his two-hundred years as master of the deathgoblins.

As the gem glowed brighter strands of black mist began to boil from its surface and wind their way up his arms, in a short time he was entirely enshrouded in a thick black fog that clung to his form like tar. Several miles away a vast horde of gibbering mutants shambled twords the fortress lead by a towering daemonic form with the wings of an eagle and the head of a huge vulture.

The daemons name was Kar-Talor-Varon and he had ruled this world for eons, no mere aliens would steal this world from him especially since he had slaughtered all but one of them. He had forced his minnions forward for weeks and now he finally had the punny creature cornered in the ancient ruins. The time for carnage was upon them and glee filed the air. Preperations complete Deathreaper stood atop the battlements and awaited the oncomming horde. At the sight of his Daemon nemisis he drew his sacred sword “Wailing Doom” and bolts of red lightning began to play along its surface and a great crackling blast surged into the night sky and revealed the true number of his enemys. There were well over a thousand in the front rank alone and all were armed to the teeth and frothing for death.

Deathreaper was among the last to fall.