#wither!technoblade

One represented darkness. He was a skilled warrior, his swordsmanship was unmatched by any in the land. His magic was said to be strong enough to unleash upon the land a plague that could strip it clean of all living things.

He was a faceless being, in any and all descriptions of his person there was mention of only the carved piglin mask he wore and the blood red eyes that were visible from the eye sockets. There of tales of wisps of black mist or smoke that would sometimes leak from under the mask but the truth of the accounts are unknown. He was adorned in black and light blue clothing, a cape, and always had an array of weapons strapped on him, an axe on one hip, a sword on the other (both netherite and enchanted heavily), and a crossbow that shot explosives secured to his back.

He was called many names, his name was whispered in every town.

The Wither. The Harbinger of Destruction. The Blood God.

Technoblade.

-

The other being was said to represent light, though his reputation was nearly as bad if not worse than that of the Wither's.

His race was said to be an elyrian though most argued that he had to be some sort of God.

He was rumored to be a cold, unforgiving man who's very aura could have the same freezing effects of a blizzard in the snowy tundra. His wraith was said to be akin to an avalanche, merciless, cruel, and sparing no one in his path.

They say that he held an immense power that was more than magic, that it was his very being. This seems to imply that he has elytrian grace, which would support the accounts of his race.

Accounts of his person spoke of magnificent wings, dark grey along the whole of the wings with light grey along the tips. He wore light blue clothing, similar to that of the Wither. His weapons of choice were an enchanted sword made of some sort of unidentified white metal and a bow. His marksmanship was said to be unlike anything anyone had ever seen before.

He was dubbed a title, as there were no survivors to utter his real name.

He was called, The Angel of Death.

-

The Wither and the Angel of Death traversed the land, granting their allegiance to whichever lord was will to shell out the gold to buy them.

They were effective, dismantling whole armies single handedly and causing the tides to turn in many battles that resulted in victory for their sides.

They seemed to be an unstoppable force.

Until, as the accounts go, the day the Angel of Death was shot from the sky.

That was a truly dark day.

In despair, the Wither went feral. Many lives, enemy and ally, were lost that day to his rage.

Then the Wither disappeared. Some say he too was slain. Others say he simply left from the world, returning back to the Nether from which he was birthed, never to set foot in the overworld again.

As for the Angel of Death, many say he is dead though there has never been a body to give proof to this claim.

And as time marched on, as it always does, the two being fell into myth, many forgetting out the reign of terror and bloodshed that they spread across the land.

Their names faded from memories... their reputations ceased to exist.

-

"Hey Phil!"

Blue eyes turned upwards, a hand coming up to shield against the glare of the sun. There was a half constructed makeshift island in the sky and stood on top of it was an avian by the name of Tommy.

"Yes Tommy?" Philza called back, he'd been coming back from a little mining trip.

"Do you think you could give me a hand for a minute?"

Philza smiled, a chuckle slipping past his lips. He'd offered to help before he left to go mining but Tommy had insisted that he knew how to make an island. He knew that eventually Tommy would call for his head.

"Sure Tommy," He called, unfurling his dark grey wings, "Let me just put my stuff away and I'll be right over."