In the Valoian tribe, not all people had the power to transform as Lobo did. There were many legends about these special Valoians and the people feared such beings. Because of this dormant fear within the tribe Lobo kept his special abilities a secret. The only people who knew were his family and Tech. When he joined Valoians warrior school, he kept his secret to himself. He did not need to use his transformation abilities to command respect from his fellow warriors. His performance on the training field was more than enough. Lobo was the strongest, fastest, and bravest out of all his comrades. On many occasions he caught the attention of his instructors and the shadowy figures in the observation tower. These shadowy figures were the four highest ranked commanders in the entire Valoian force. Deltanon, an extremely powerful warrior was at the highest position of command. Under him were Astron, Betanon, and Char. All four of them knew of Lobo and his extensive skills and strength.

In time, Lobo proved himself to be worthy of acceptance into the Valoian Elite. This was a great honor and Lobo was well pleased with himself. At the warrior’s graduation ceremony, Lobo was marked with the sign of the Elite and given the highest honor of Commander of the Elite Warriors.

Not even a season after Lobo’s graduation, the Valoian Tribe declared war on Corsia, a neighboring land known for their witchcraft and sorcery. For many generations, the Valoians and the Corsians had had skirmishes on the border of the Forest of Whispers. Finally, the Valoians started a campaign to crush the Corsians once and for all.

The campaign was successful and the Valoians won many battles against the Corsians with Lobo and his Elite Warriors striking deadly blows against the Corsian forces. The Corsians weren’t stupid and soon realized the root of their enemy’s success. The Corsians were in dire straits and at what could possibly be their final battle; they developed a secret plan to get rid of Lobo and his Elite Warriors.

The Battle of Pelrose began on a cool grey morning. The towering trees cast their morning shade onto the soft dew covered meadow. This particular meadow was very large and was surrounded by the dense Forrest of Whispers. Through the middle of the field ran a small creek that always freely flowed, giving life to all around it. On one side of the meadow the Corsians got ready for the hardest feat they would ever face. On the other side, the Valoians went over their plans to ensure that this was in fact, the last battle against the Corsians. The Valoians planned to attack head-on with the bulk of their forces. They carefully placed archers all around the meadow among the colossal trees. These sharp-shooters were to attack from the side while the main force attacked from the front. The Elites were sent during the night to the rear of the Corsian army and hid themselves in the forest. During battle, two cavalry units were to be sent around the perimeter of the meadow towards the rear of the Corsian army and join the Elites. From there they would ambush the Corsians from behind and split their forces, allowing the Valoians to crush them with one blow.

“This is it! With this victory we will defeat the Corsians once and for all. But men, the battle is not yet won! So fear not death, and only seek glory. Never underestimate your enemy and fight to the death! Through the power of Padromas, Enoch, and Trimaleon; WE WILL WIN THIS FIGHT!” Lobo powerfully addressed his men before battle. As both sides made final preparations for battle, all went silent except for the soft babble of the cool stream, bring life to a place of death. As the wind choked out of the cool morning air, the forest stopped whispering. Each side took its position, Valoians to the South and Corsians to the North and silently stepped onto the virgin meadow. The Corsians moved more than half their force into the field, leaving the other half in the forest. Now, the surface meadow slanted east to west with the creek; so most of the Valoians archers were on the western border of the meadow, on higher ground. When the signal was given, a deafening roar broke through the music of nature, as the main Valoian ground force charged toward the enemy with twenty foot pikes. These utensils of death were as sharp as a hawk’s talon and as tough as solid rock. At the exact instant, the archers unleashed a black cloud of lethal arrows into the western flank of the Corsian ground force. As the two main forces charged at each other in a maelstrom of arrows and spears, the Elite silently waited behind their enemy. The two charging forces clashed in the middle of the meadow, on the banks of the creek. The bloodshed began.

The ground rumbled and the air was filled with the morbidly melodic clings and clangs of clashing swords and colliding armor. The Valoian’s superior weapons and armor was no match for the primitive equipment possessed by the Corsian soldiers. However, the Corsians had powerful sorcerers that could slay twenty men with one swing of his mighty scepter. The bloodbath continued as both sides suffered many casualties. As soon as the entire Corsian force was out into open ground, two cavalry units of one hundred horses and men each were sent on each side of the meadow, under the cover of the forest, toward the rear of the enemy force. With overhead the protection from the archers, both groups made it without a single casualty. When they met with the Elites, the ambush was set into motion. Lobo led the two-hundred-fifty man force into the backside of their opposing foe. A few of the men heard them coming and turned around to find swords slashing through their throats. Once the befuddled men figured out what was going on, a good portion of men were lost at deadly the hands Elite. The cavalry simply trampled the surprised warriors into the ground. This was the turning point of the battle and the Corsians numbly realized that they were surrounded on all sides. Under these circumstances, they set their main objective into motion: take Lobo out. This proved to be a fairly difficult task and required perfect timing. As the Corsian warriors dwindled, the sorcerers were left to their own devices. Just as the Corsian force was about to crumble, the sorcerers gathered their magic and directed it at Lobo. They trapped him into a great red orb and lifted him into the sky. As soon as their task was complete, they vanished in a plume of red smoke.

The Valoians had won the battle, but lost their best warrior. This turned the joyous occasion into a brutally somber one. Their disfigured and lifeless brothers were retrieved from the banks of the creek; now tainted a deep crimson under the touch of war and death. The mourning victors returned home.

Not much is known about Lobo’s disappearance. Some say that he lived among the few Corsians that had survived the Great War. Others say he died and came back to life as a god. The Legend goes that the Corsian sorcerers exiled Lobo into the Centromian Desert. It is believed that it takes one hundred years just to cross it. Only one mortal ever survived that wretched place, and it was Lobo. He spent four seasons in that hell; somehow living off the desolate land with meager food and scarce water. Lobo’s father helped him too, but could only do limited things in the shadow of night. At last, Lobo found his way out of the earthly inferno and began his travel home.