Story
Long ago, a dark creature rose on the continent of Piersk, and stole away the crown. He ruled for years with a iron fist. He was of all blood, and yet of none. he stood over the people and worked them like dogs, decades it went on. The only thing that really seemed to stop them was a blade called Ymir. He stood uncontested, until they came. Nine swordsmen, carrying weapons to rival the power Ymir.
A battle that raged for what seemed like years, only for a week. A test of endurance for the ten who fought there. with one fatal error, one of the nine were cut down. Without the combined might of the nine, they fell one by one. A river, once beautiful and pure, ran red with their blood. Once it came down to one, the man who carried the name of Dragonsblood. He carried the last of the nine weapons, excalibur, the holy.
He was all the hope that remained. A faint glimmer, in a sea of despair. With that blade, he tore away his own life. Joining the souls of the other nine, leaving behind their family... all they had. with one final breath though, he had decided not even to join the others of the nine. With the essence of his soul, he imprisoned the creature. The creature shattered the blades with the last of his strength and gave the nine blades and the whole sword and told them to hind them away.
The hilts of those blades were carried back to teh families, all that was left of the nine that stood so bravely. But on the battlefield, unannounced to all, there was a man... devoted to no one with a mortal thread, only to the God that would bring the end.
"The night of the day that rises once every four years, blended with the night of the blue moon, 10 children shall be brought forth into this world. Born to herald His return to this world. Of the same blood of the ones who ended his rule. One shall be the Judas and be the very vessel for His return. One His vessel, the rest shall be the platform for his throne to rise upon. Watch for the one who shall quest for His blade, Ymir."
After half a millennium, the night came. The children were born, and it was set into motion once more. the own dragonsblood clan bearing twin heirs to the hilt of the holy weapon, it would soon become a competition as to who would gain the throne. The elder was guaranteed the hilt, but the throne was to the greatest warrior.
((Please do not try to replicate this story as it is of my own creation and I have slight issues... which would most likely not turn out well for you.))