Asmondai

Asmondai is the 14th hero that you will unlock at stage 1300. He has the highest HP and dodge chance of all the heroes.

## Story

In a hidden valley safe from war, the village of Brendon slept peacefully. The clouds, spread thin by the surrounding hills, had dimmed the brightness of the full moon. The villagers, mostly hard-working farmhands, were fast asleep. Nothing but a dark figure masked by shadows broke the stillness of the night.

The dark figure watched intently for signs of movement or light. Satisfied that Brendon was fast asleep, the figure went to work.It sped through the shadows, silent as a creeping fog, doing its master's bidding. By the time it had set the last torch to burn, it was almost midnight. Slowly, making sure that the fire would spread across the village, the figure retreated to its master's camp. Orso, the infamous Mercenary King, was pleased with his warriors work.

"You have done well, Asmondai," he said. "A few more raids and our wealth will be too great for the other Lords to deny. At last I shall be a legitimate King and all of you will rule as vassals and lords. "To battle!"

Asmondai, his King and the other mercenaries mounted their horses and approached the village. The villagers had just began to notice the flames spreading under their homes and were spilling on the streets in panic. The raid let loose a flurry of flaming arrows, adding fuel to the fire of fear. Once they were close enough, they drew their swords and began their merciless attack. For every mercenary slaying a villager, there were three more looting. Terror for coin was their way of life.

By morning, the mercenaries took their leave to spend their spoils in Southshore until their King summoned them for a new blood contract. Asmondai, like the rest, loved this life. A night of easy fighting for weeks of living in wealth was the best life an outlaw could ask for. Several nights of pleasure and delights later and his moneybags were almost empty. Satisfied, he took the road back to his camp, to await the next orders. He knew that those who lived by the sword died by the sword, but he was still young and strong – a few more contracts for the King and he would never have to fight for money again.

Lost in dreams of gold and palaces, Asmondai never noticed the ambush coming. A far-off cry for help distracted him. By the time he realized it was a distraction, the first blow had landed on his head. Somehow, the Gods were on his side despite the horrible things he had done – the street bandits beat him until they could no longer lift their feet, but a spark of life still burned inside him. They took everything but his body, and left it for the animals.

The morning after, Asmondai awoke in a soft bed by a warm, well-kept fire. Thinking he was dead, he expected to see the other fallen warriors of the afterlife – but as he left the comfort of the bed, he saw an old man sitting at a table.

"Are you the Gatekeeper of the Heavens?" asked Asmondai.

The old man smiled.

"I'm Baha, and this is my farm. I saw you by the road, robbed and beaten, and couldn't leave you to die. Rest and heal."

For the next few weeks, Asmondai slowly healed and helped the old man in his chores. Baha, always kind and respectful to this stranger whom he found by luck, was the type of man Asmondai had killed hundreds of. As a mercenary, he knew he couldn't rely on anyone except himself and the money in his pocket – but this old man had proven for the first time, that this didn't have to be true.

As mindless simple farm work filled his days, his thoughts became calmer and his desire to return to his old life diminished. When his strength returned, he asked Baha if he could stay some more and reflect on his newfound peace. Baha, a man without family, graciously took in the lone mercenary. In time they grew close and eventually bonded like a father and son.

One night, while returning from a hunt, Asmondai saw smoke in the direction of the farm. His mercenary life, although in the past, had never left him completely - he knew what that smoke meant. It was the sign of the Mercenary King. As fast as his legs could take him, he ran to the small home where he had discovered the simple life and saw it go up in flames. Once inside, he saw the old man lying on the floor, fighting through the pain of a mercenary's dagger in his back.

Go! Save as many from the village as you can!" he whispered, and a moment later he lay dead.

The rest of a night was a blur for Asmondai. He remembered leaving the house, his old sword in hand, as the raiders were leaving. He fought viciously with the remaining few looters, striking them down with the same merciless rage that he used on villagers not long ago. He knew the King would have ridden far by now, so he ran. He ran until morning, and slept where he fell.

That night his dreams were filled with fire, smoke and screams. He did not need a shaman to interpret them for him. He knew that this, all of this, was a sign – that an innocent, kind old man had paid the price for all of Asmondai's wrongdoings. When he finally awoke, he had a new purpose.He was neither a mercenary, nor a man of peace. He was born anew, a vigilante, answering only to the call of injustice. He would do anything, kill anyone, who made men pay for the sins of others – and first on his list was the Mercenary King.

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