Death

It began as an accident. The Mongol invaders had planned to bring death to the Arabs, but they did not plan to cast it among their own armies. Death came anyway, and took nearly all of them. However, Death did not win that battle.

Instead the army invited Death to join their armory, and they catapulted him from one camp to the other. First, fortresses fell in Deaths wake, their guards succumbing to black sores, pale skin, and fever. Then ships came and carried Death as a stowaway, as some say. Others says the crew tried to take Death prisoner. Either way, Death sailed across the Black Sea and conquered Europe.

First Turkey fell, then Italy, then the Alps, then France, then Germany, and then Brittan. Death planned to push up into Poland and Russia, but he lost steam. Or, as some theorists say, he lost the motivation to continue. Other sources say he retired and abdicated his empire to a worthy opponent.

Having a Cake and Eating it Too

The smoke gathered around the smell of cooling bodies. Everything from the last toe to the last finger laid in silence, save for the clattering of forks. Two men sat in fortified thrones on a marred hill in a scared valley, oblivious to the destruction without forgetting its cause. They licked the frosting from their fingers, ignoring the taste of blood they had been taught to crave.

One glanced at the other. "Good cake, isn't it?"

"It is." The other replied, as he twiddled the fork in his fingers. "Why did we never share our cake before?"

The first thought it over as he took another bite. "I suppose it was selfish impulse."

The second stood up with a start. "Are you calling me selfish!?"

Then the first had to stand up, to defend his honor. "You dare question my judgement?"

Finally, they both threw down their forks, and abandoned their cake. And so the war began again. The two men never discovered why they never stopped to have two peaceful slices of birthday cake before.