Prologue
They called me the Prince of All that is wrong in this world. In Mathoc. The land of magick and wonder. The frozen north known as the Frostblood Tundra. The southern deserts of Sunskar. The eastern jungles of Sythariss. The western mountains of Star-Reach. The Ocean of Souls and the Sea of Arcana... The Northeastern bogs and swamps of the Black Marsh. The Northwestern Forests of Dragonwood. The Southeastern plains of Shadow's Meadow. The Southwestern Deadlands of the Dread Plains...
They say I am all that is foul in the world... They called me a being of the Abyss itself. They called me the Lord of Unlife, the Master of Necromancy, the King of the Undead... They were right... My name is Zalphon Shadowheart Broodikus, Emperor of Mathoc... I am the Arch-Lich and the God of Necromancy and Unlife. I rule over the lands with an iron fist.
My empire is strong and built of the dead. Unlike previous liches and necromancers, those ressurected by me or students of the New Ways of Necromancy retain their intelligence if we so-choose. Mathoc is ruled by the living dead, for the living dead. Our foes are the paladins of Lightius Star, the Arch-Angel and Queen of Skyhaven, Realm of the Angels...
We constantly fight to conquer all who oppose us. The only threat to us, was the dragons... The Guardians of Mathoc, they called themselves. And their immortal followers (ageless), the Order of the Dragon. I once was a member, but after I learned the truth about what power they hid from us, it began...
If you've picked up this tome, you must be expecting a story... My story... My name is Emperor Zalphon Broodikus, and it begins thousands of years ago, during the Era of the Everlight Kingdom. My father's kingdom...
Full Version: The Dragon's Tome
Woo Hoo Zalphon! Powerful start! That has to be the best prologue you have ever done!!!
Chapter One: The Beginning
I awoke as I felt a bolt of anguish rend my mind. "Awaken," he called. He was Al'kar, a Spell-Blood Human. Spellblood Humans are humans who have 'evolved' from using magick. Their hair is dark azure, their skin is light-blue, just like their eye-whites. Their eye-color matches their hair. Their very blood is pure magick.
I wore tattered, gray pants. My ebon hair fell in front of my oceanic-blue eyes, so I pushed it back. My ashen-gray skin weakly glimmered in the torch-light of the Gladiator's Den. I walked to the mess-hall. My feet were cold on the gray stone floor, but I was used to it. The Gladiator's Den smelled of rats and feces...
I pushed open the door to the mess-hall and there were a few tables in the rectangular room. About twenty of us were in there. We all had shackles on our hands. I grumbled as I walked up to the chef who was stirring a bubbling cauldron of a red-liquid, eyes, pieces of flesh, and small organs of rats... I hope. I hissed, "Get me some 'stew'." They called it 'stew', we call it 'slop'.
The Cook used a ladle to pour some of the bubbling red liquid into a small, wooden bowl. He put in a wooden spoon and handed it to me. His features were rough and he wore a red-loin cloth and an apron. It was an orc, his features were blunt and his skin was greenish-gray.
I sat at the table with a friend of mine, Martin. His eyes were milky-blue due to his blindness, his skin was pale and he wore tattered-gray robes. "Zalphon," he stated. "How are you, my friend?" His voice was calm, like usual. He was a sorcerer (unlike other spell-casters, he got his power from within, not from tomes).
"Same as usual," I said as I spooned some of the 'slop' into my mouth. It tasted like rat-urine mixed with minotaur meat. A disgusting flavor, but we were used to it.
"I am supposed to fight a few Giant-Bane Barbarians," he grumbled. It wasn't fear in his voice, more caution, but there was confidence as well.
"I'd be careful, friend," I responded. "Barbarians tend to be stronger than most normal men." My tone wasn't with sarcasm, it was with fear for him.
"Don't be afraid," he mumbled. "Giant-Bane Barbarians are cowards. Their chieftan killed an adolescent hill giant and they call themselves giant-slayers. Not even a full-grown one or a frost or fire one. If it were a hill-titan at least I'd be somewhat afraid." His voice was dripping with judgementalism.
"Still the same arrogant honoured user you always were," I laughed. "I like that about you, Martin." It was true, he was a fairly good sorcerer and he had a right to be arrogant. I was just an adolescent at the time, but nevertheless I had respect for those who deserved it.
Al'kar glanced at Martin and the Blind Sorcerer stood up. "I'll be back soon." He walked into the armory. I heard the announcer's loud screams and the barbarians' battle-cries. I heard a spell hissed and the barbarians' last words... Their swan-song.
Martin returned with blood on his robes, but he wasn't concerned. "You're fighting a dragon-whelp, Zalphon," Al'kar called with a grin. "Have fun." Martin patted me on the back as I walked towards the armory. In there I put on my leather jerkin, my leather pants, my leather boots, and the leather gauntlets. I gripped an old iron broadsword and sighed.
"Good bye," Al'kar chuckled. "This is the end."
I screamed back, "I'll be back, you Son of an Ogre!"
He smiled as I opened the door and walked up the stairs. I reached the iron portculis and waited. "Are you ready?" The Announcer screamed. A wave of "Yes" dominated all sound in the entire arena. The Portculis fell and the dragon-whelpling walked out.
We locked eyes. As if we were staring into each other's soul. I looked up at the royal box. King Alu'kar, a high elf and his bodyguard, Sir Derek Dragonguard, a Knight of the Dragon. The Knight rose a brow and left. "It is okay," the dragonling said. "You're safe."
"I refuse to fight," It shrieked. Very rarely did captured whelps refuse to fight. It was that or die. Suddenly a blizzard began to occur.
"Do not worry," he muttered. "You shall be safe, I cast a spell to summon a blizzard, but protect you." I ran into the gladiatior's den. There Al'kar stood with a frown. I felt my blood boil and it all went black... "Good bye, Zalphon," was the last thing I heard.
I awoke as I felt a bolt of anguish rend my mind. "Awaken," he called. He was Al'kar, a Spell-Blood Human. Spellblood Humans are humans who have 'evolved' from using magick. Their hair is dark azure, their skin is light-blue, just like their eye-whites. Their eye-color matches their hair. Their very blood is pure magick.
I wore tattered, gray pants. My ebon hair fell in front of my oceanic-blue eyes, so I pushed it back. My ashen-gray skin weakly glimmered in the torch-light of the Gladiator's Den. I walked to the mess-hall. My feet were cold on the gray stone floor, but I was used to it. The Gladiator's Den smelled of rats and feces...
I pushed open the door to the mess-hall and there were a few tables in the rectangular room. About twenty of us were in there. We all had shackles on our hands. I grumbled as I walked up to the chef who was stirring a bubbling cauldron of a red-liquid, eyes, pieces of flesh, and small organs of rats... I hope. I hissed, "Get me some 'stew'." They called it 'stew', we call it 'slop'.
The Cook used a ladle to pour some of the bubbling red liquid into a small, wooden bowl. He put in a wooden spoon and handed it to me. His features were rough and he wore a red-loin cloth and an apron. It was an orc, his features were blunt and his skin was greenish-gray.
I sat at the table with a friend of mine, Martin. His eyes were milky-blue due to his blindness, his skin was pale and he wore tattered-gray robes. "Zalphon," he stated. "How are you, my friend?" His voice was calm, like usual. He was a sorcerer (unlike other spell-casters, he got his power from within, not from tomes).
"Same as usual," I said as I spooned some of the 'slop' into my mouth. It tasted like rat-urine mixed with minotaur meat. A disgusting flavor, but we were used to it.
"I am supposed to fight a few Giant-Bane Barbarians," he grumbled. It wasn't fear in his voice, more caution, but there was confidence as well.
"I'd be careful, friend," I responded. "Barbarians tend to be stronger than most normal men." My tone wasn't with sarcasm, it was with fear for him.
"Don't be afraid," he mumbled. "Giant-Bane Barbarians are cowards. Their chieftan killed an adolescent hill giant and they call themselves giant-slayers. Not even a full-grown one or a frost or fire one. If it were a hill-titan at least I'd be somewhat afraid." His voice was dripping with judgementalism.
"Still the same arrogant honoured user you always were," I laughed. "I like that about you, Martin." It was true, he was a fairly good sorcerer and he had a right to be arrogant. I was just an adolescent at the time, but nevertheless I had respect for those who deserved it.
Al'kar glanced at Martin and the Blind Sorcerer stood up. "I'll be back soon." He walked into the armory. I heard the announcer's loud screams and the barbarians' battle-cries. I heard a spell hissed and the barbarians' last words... Their swan-song.
Martin returned with blood on his robes, but he wasn't concerned. "You're fighting a dragon-whelp, Zalphon," Al'kar called with a grin. "Have fun." Martin patted me on the back as I walked towards the armory. In there I put on my leather jerkin, my leather pants, my leather boots, and the leather gauntlets. I gripped an old iron broadsword and sighed.
"Good bye," Al'kar chuckled. "This is the end."
I screamed back, "I'll be back, you Son of an Ogre!"
He smiled as I opened the door and walked up the stairs. I reached the iron portculis and waited. "Are you ready?" The Announcer screamed. A wave of "Yes" dominated all sound in the entire arena. The Portculis fell and the dragon-whelpling walked out.
We locked eyes. As if we were staring into each other's soul. I looked up at the royal box. King Alu'kar, a high elf and his bodyguard, Sir Derek Dragonguard, a Knight of the Dragon. The Knight rose a brow and left. "It is okay," the dragonling said. "You're safe."
"I refuse to fight," It shrieked. Very rarely did captured whelps refuse to fight. It was that or die. Suddenly a blizzard began to occur.
"Do not worry," he muttered. "You shall be safe, I cast a spell to summon a blizzard, but protect you." I ran into the gladiatior's den. There Al'kar stood with a frown. I felt my blood boil and it all went black... "Good bye, Zalphon," was the last thing I heard.
Even the dragonwhelp loves Zalphon! The first paragraph came uncomfortably close to an info-dump, but you pulled out of it and the rest went really well! I am really glad you are getting back to writing again! It will be hard to beat the Knight, that was your best work so far, everyone loved it! I think this one has the potential to though, with that great storyline you thought up backing it!
A new story? And in keeping with 'Zalph-lore'. I see you have taken a foray into first person writing - and are doing pretty well with it. Your writing just gradually gets better and better! I'm hoping you can stick with one story though. 
QUOTE(Acadian @ Apr 27 2010, 07:36 AM) 
A new story? And in keeping with 'Zalph-lore'. I see you have taken a foray into first person writing - and are doing pretty well with it. Your writing just gradually gets better and better! I'm hoping you can stick with one story though.
Acadian this is my actual "novel," that I am hoping to one day get published.
Chapter Two: Chosen
I awoke in my cell. With much effort, my eyelid lifted and I overheard a conversation. "I will not release him into the custody of the Order. He is my most powerful gladiator," Al'kar hissed. "If I do, I would like one-thousand platinum coins or the Spell-Book of Arcanikus."
"Tomorrow morning, a whelpling will bring the gold, now release him," another voice commanded. "Do so or suffer the wrath of Drakos, God of the Dragons!"
A sigh was heard and I saw the blue-skinned spellcaster walk in. He released me of my shackles and whispered, "You're free. May the Order watch over you, Zalphon." As I walked out, a tear fell to the ground. Al'kar wasn't losing his best gladiator, he was losing his best friend.
It wasn't Derek standing there. It was a Drakal, better known as Dragon Elves. Half-Dragon, half-elf. "Zalphon, my name is High-Cleric Lunardrake. I am here to take you to a new life. In the Order," the scaley elf said.
I nodded and instantaneously bright-blue flame surrounded us. It didn't hurt at all. Then we appeared in a rectangular room. In front of me stood a Council. "Zalphon, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," the Council-Leader stated. "I am Drakos, the first, the oldest, and the most powerful of our kind."
I deeply bowed and responded, "I am Zalphon, Darkal Gladiator, I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, but alas, I am not a liar."
The Deity chuckled. "You are a funny one, but you'll learn quickly of respect."
In the back of the room a high elf stood. He wore Drako-Steel armor (much like normal steel, but hundreds of times stronger and much lighter). "Perhaps I should take him as my squire, Milord?" the Hyekal questioned.
"Sir Kalarn, are you sure?" the God asked. "I have seen his power. He is an embodiment of pure magick. Even the dragons are still partially flesh. This Darkal is the creation of magick. He is still of flesh, but in time he'll learn the secrets of magick that not even Arcanikus knows."
Kalarn nodded, "I would be honored to teach the Magick-Born."
"And so it shall be," Drakos said. "The Child of Magick shall be trained by Sir Kalarn, Knight-General of the Knights of the Dragon."
The Hyekal bowed deeply and motioned me to follow. I was quite curious to find out where this would lead. I was chosen... My life changed forever that moment...
I awoke in my cell. With much effort, my eyelid lifted and I overheard a conversation. "I will not release him into the custody of the Order. He is my most powerful gladiator," Al'kar hissed. "If I do, I would like one-thousand platinum coins or the Spell-Book of Arcanikus."
"Tomorrow morning, a whelpling will bring the gold, now release him," another voice commanded. "Do so or suffer the wrath of Drakos, God of the Dragons!"
A sigh was heard and I saw the blue-skinned spellcaster walk in. He released me of my shackles and whispered, "You're free. May the Order watch over you, Zalphon." As I walked out, a tear fell to the ground. Al'kar wasn't losing his best gladiator, he was losing his best friend.
It wasn't Derek standing there. It was a Drakal, better known as Dragon Elves. Half-Dragon, half-elf. "Zalphon, my name is High-Cleric Lunardrake. I am here to take you to a new life. In the Order," the scaley elf said.
I nodded and instantaneously bright-blue flame surrounded us. It didn't hurt at all. Then we appeared in a rectangular room. In front of me stood a Council. "Zalphon, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," the Council-Leader stated. "I am Drakos, the first, the oldest, and the most powerful of our kind."
I deeply bowed and responded, "I am Zalphon, Darkal Gladiator, I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, but alas, I am not a liar."
The Deity chuckled. "You are a funny one, but you'll learn quickly of respect."
In the back of the room a high elf stood. He wore Drako-Steel armor (much like normal steel, but hundreds of times stronger and much lighter). "Perhaps I should take him as my squire, Milord?" the Hyekal questioned.
"Sir Kalarn, are you sure?" the God asked. "I have seen his power. He is an embodiment of pure magick. Even the dragons are still partially flesh. This Darkal is the creation of magick. He is still of flesh, but in time he'll learn the secrets of magick that not even Arcanikus knows."
Kalarn nodded, "I would be honored to teach the Magick-Born."
"And so it shall be," Drakos said. "The Child of Magick shall be trained by Sir Kalarn, Knight-General of the Knights of the Dragon."
The Hyekal bowed deeply and motioned me to follow. I was quite curious to find out where this would lead. I was chosen... My life changed forever that moment...
Powerful write Zalphon! This chapter is HUGE and really shows what you are capable of!!!!!!
Malx, a writer is only as good as his mentor allows. The credit is yours, my Master. I have subtly picked up most of my tricks from you. The other items in my Bag of Trickery come from various writers and critics over my time at Bethsoft and here.
Chapter Two: A Squire
I awoke in cold-sweat. Nightmares of myself standing over Drakos and impaling him. Over the past weeks I had learned of a prophecy of a being of pure magick being born to a nameless servant and a cruel tyrant. In time this child would grow to power so great, he could slay gods with sheer thoughts. I wondered who he was or what he was...
Sir Kalarn walked in. His eyes scanned my room. It was small, barely enough room for a bed. "Good morning, Squire," he stated. "It's time for your daily training." I rose a brow. Daily training, fighting with wooden swords until I was black and blue.
I got up and put on a leather jerkin. He nodded and drew a wooden blade. I did the same. He slashed it at me and it hit me straight in the stomach. The wind was knocked out of me. The ground met my behind as I fell. With haste, I made an effort to stand up.
"Still too slow, Squire," he taunted. Those agonizing taunts. If the blade would've been dripping with acid I wouldn't have been so irritated. In a quick burst of rage, I cast a spell. I muttered the words of a spell I heard two members of the Wizard's branch cast and an icy orb slammed into his chest.
He was knocked back and to the ground. I walked over and put my sword to his throat, "I'm afraid you just lost, Milord." The Hyekal nodded and stood up. Daily practice was over. I could sense his irritation in my use of spellcraft. Most members of the Order used spell. Just not in daily practice.
"Master?" I asked. "Are you mad?" The Knight took off his helmet and his long, silvery hair fell to his back. His eyes were icy-blue as they stared into my soul. I felt my very essence being drained. Then his gaze shifted from me to his gauntlets.
"Angry?" He responded. "No. Impressed, definitely." I suspected he'd have me perform my daily chores, but surprisingly, he did not.
We walked through the stone corridors of the magically-maintained keep. Shortly we arrived in the Throne-Room where Drakos sat. The Hyekal told me to stay as he rushed over. The expressions of the deity surprised me. "Zalphon," The Dragon-King called. "Come."
Obediently, as if he had charmed with magick I walked over. Sir Kalarn looked at Drakos and bowed. He took his leave, and since I had came, I was never alone. The Dragon said calmly, "I have learned of your use of 'spells' in physical training. To say the least I am astonished. An apprentice who recently came from slavery is already utilizing spell-craft."
I nodded, "Will there be a punishment, Milord?"
"Quite the contrary," he replied. "I am no longer having you train under Sir Kalarn. You shall be taught by Lord Kristopher Ravenblood. The Champion of the Order. The Knight-General of the Knight's Branch, the Wizard-Lord of the Wizard's Branch, and the Assassin-Lord of the Rogue's Branch answer to him. They all answer to him. He answers only to me and the High Council of the Order."
Almost instantaneously I gasped, "Milord, are you sure?"
"Magick-Born, Kristopher Ravenblood shall train you. One day, he will step down. He'll become a member of the High Council and you'll take his place. Zalphon, you'll be one of the greatest heroes that Mathoc has ever seen. I have seen it written in the waves of the Arcane Sea."
"Are you telling me the truth, Milord?" I asked.
"Your future is hard to tell, but I do know you will be a great hero. I do not know if corruption will take hold of your soul or if you'll remain a hero until the end of your days," he continued. "I hope you'll remain a hero, Zalphon. If you don't, then even the gods should fear."
"Milord, when do I report to Lord Ravenblood?" I questioned. "Immediately?"
"Enjoy a week of leisure, Magick-Born," he commanded. "And you won't report to him. He'll come to you."
I walked out the door, eager for the arcane secrets and physical power I would gain in time under the leadership of Lord Ravenblood...
I awoke in cold-sweat. Nightmares of myself standing over Drakos and impaling him. Over the past weeks I had learned of a prophecy of a being of pure magick being born to a nameless servant and a cruel tyrant. In time this child would grow to power so great, he could slay gods with sheer thoughts. I wondered who he was or what he was...
Sir Kalarn walked in. His eyes scanned my room. It was small, barely enough room for a bed. "Good morning, Squire," he stated. "It's time for your daily training." I rose a brow. Daily training, fighting with wooden swords until I was black and blue.
I got up and put on a leather jerkin. He nodded and drew a wooden blade. I did the same. He slashed it at me and it hit me straight in the stomach. The wind was knocked out of me. The ground met my behind as I fell. With haste, I made an effort to stand up.
"Still too slow, Squire," he taunted. Those agonizing taunts. If the blade would've been dripping with acid I wouldn't have been so irritated. In a quick burst of rage, I cast a spell. I muttered the words of a spell I heard two members of the Wizard's branch cast and an icy orb slammed into his chest.
He was knocked back and to the ground. I walked over and put my sword to his throat, "I'm afraid you just lost, Milord." The Hyekal nodded and stood up. Daily practice was over. I could sense his irritation in my use of spellcraft. Most members of the Order used spell. Just not in daily practice.
"Master?" I asked. "Are you mad?" The Knight took off his helmet and his long, silvery hair fell to his back. His eyes were icy-blue as they stared into my soul. I felt my very essence being drained. Then his gaze shifted from me to his gauntlets.
"Angry?" He responded. "No. Impressed, definitely." I suspected he'd have me perform my daily chores, but surprisingly, he did not.
We walked through the stone corridors of the magically-maintained keep. Shortly we arrived in the Throne-Room where Drakos sat. The Hyekal told me to stay as he rushed over. The expressions of the deity surprised me. "Zalphon," The Dragon-King called. "Come."
Obediently, as if he had charmed with magick I walked over. Sir Kalarn looked at Drakos and bowed. He took his leave, and since I had came, I was never alone. The Dragon said calmly, "I have learned of your use of 'spells' in physical training. To say the least I am astonished. An apprentice who recently came from slavery is already utilizing spell-craft."
I nodded, "Will there be a punishment, Milord?"
"Quite the contrary," he replied. "I am no longer having you train under Sir Kalarn. You shall be taught by Lord Kristopher Ravenblood. The Champion of the Order. The Knight-General of the Knight's Branch, the Wizard-Lord of the Wizard's Branch, and the Assassin-Lord of the Rogue's Branch answer to him. They all answer to him. He answers only to me and the High Council of the Order."
Almost instantaneously I gasped, "Milord, are you sure?"
"Magick-Born, Kristopher Ravenblood shall train you. One day, he will step down. He'll become a member of the High Council and you'll take his place. Zalphon, you'll be one of the greatest heroes that Mathoc has ever seen. I have seen it written in the waves of the Arcane Sea."
"Are you telling me the truth, Milord?" I asked.
"Your future is hard to tell, but I do know you will be a great hero. I do not know if corruption will take hold of your soul or if you'll remain a hero until the end of your days," he continued. "I hope you'll remain a hero, Zalphon. If you don't, then even the gods should fear."
"Milord, when do I report to Lord Ravenblood?" I questioned. "Immediately?"
"Enjoy a week of leisure, Magick-Born," he commanded. "And you won't report to him. He'll come to you."
I walked out the door, eager for the arcane secrets and physical power I would gain in time under the leadership of Lord Ravenblood...
Woo Hoo! "I hope you'll remain a hero, Zalphon. If you don't, then even the gods should fear." - What a great line that is Zalphon !!!!!!!
Another great write!!
Another great write!!
Chapter Three: Lord Ravenblood
I wondered the dark corridors of the lower-castle. This is where the menagerie, the dungeon, and various other rooms were. Suddenly a blade was to my throat and I heard a hoarse voice, "Surrender, Magick-Born," it commanded.
Suddenly the blade shifted from my throat to my stomach and it was the flat side that hit me. My eyes watered in agony. Then I felt a bolt of red-hot flame crash into my back. "A little slow to be my student, don't you think?" he asked.
I pulled out my sword and hissed, "We'll see about that." He appeared from the shadows in a suit of Drako-Steel Full-Plate. He ripped the sword out of his scabbard and charged at me. I barely managed to parry the mighty warrior.
My sword took a swing at him, but he pushed me against the wall with a spell. Suddenly his armor changed into black regal clothes. He shifted into the shadows and I moved towards the wall. I felt a kick in the back of my skull. "There's a reason I am the Champion, Zalphon," He sighed. "I guess with time you'll learn."
I growled, "Learn or kill you." Rage clouded my mind, but it was soon released. The Champion bowed deeply and took off his full-plate helmet. His skin was as dark as mine, but his was grey, not azure. His eyes were blue, much like mine.
"A Darkal?" I thought. "Really?"
"A dragon actually. I am an Ancient Wyrm, before the Cataclysm," he psychically said. "You're probably wondering what the Cataclysm was. It wasn't the destruction of the world, but millions of dragons were destroyed. We are but of a shadow of our past glory. We still defend the realms from the wicked, but many of us had succumb to corruption."
"You can read my thoughts?" I asked.
"Child, I am older than the Order itself. I could destroy kingdoms with a thought," he stated sternly. "The Cataclysm was when King Alu'kar sent out his forces to kill us. We lived openly amongst the people, defending them from threats. But the King viewed us as a threat. He assembled the greatest force of mortals we'd ever seen. They called themselves the Chosen Ones of Everlight. We eventually killed them off, but at great cost to ourselves. Now dragons are feared and hated, but we still defend them."
"I see, Lord Ravenblood," I calmly said. "Why was the Order of the Dragon started?"
"Young Zalphon, that is a long story that can be told in the many tomes of the Library of the Dragon. We have almost every book ever written. The only we don't is the Spell-Book of Arcanikus and the Spell-Book of our own deity, Drakos," he grumbled. "There is word of an attack to a settlement called Grayshire. As your mentor, I command you to handle it."
"Milord, how will I?" I questoned. "I have no weapons and I barely know any spells."
The Dragon commanded, "Close your eyes, Magick-Born." Obediently, I closed them. He then told me to let my mind clear. Once again, I obeyed.
Suddenly spell formulas filled my mind. And on me was a suit of steel half-plate and a steel longsword. "I have taught you many spells learned by our Apprentices in the Order of the Dragon's Wizards. Use them wisely. These will help you fight small threats, but to learn more important spells study in the Library."
I nodded and Ravenblood cast a spell. I was in Grayshire. Blood went through the air, fires consumed buildings. Battle-cries of orcs could be heard from all around. Grayshire would fall if I didn't save them. I ripped my sword out of the scabbard and walked towards the orcish warlord. "Stand down, Orc and call off your men," I ordered.
"Or else what?" he asked. "You'll hurt me?"
I nodded and he barked. "Men, kill this fool." They charged at me and I muttered a spell. A nova of frost emitted from my body into them. They were frozen in blocks of ice. Not permenantly, but long enough to keep them from disturbing me during the battle.
"Now you die," the Orcish Warlord screamed.
"I don't think so," I goaded. "You'll be the one begging for mercy at my blade. And I'll give you death."
"We shall see," he grunted. "We shall see." The huge, armored, gray-skinned humanoid pulled out a greataxe and smiled with a dark delight. I knew this wouldn't end well, but I was prepared to fight for anything and everything to save these people. Even if it meant death...
I wondered the dark corridors of the lower-castle. This is where the menagerie, the dungeon, and various other rooms were. Suddenly a blade was to my throat and I heard a hoarse voice, "Surrender, Magick-Born," it commanded.
Suddenly the blade shifted from my throat to my stomach and it was the flat side that hit me. My eyes watered in agony. Then I felt a bolt of red-hot flame crash into my back. "A little slow to be my student, don't you think?" he asked.
I pulled out my sword and hissed, "We'll see about that." He appeared from the shadows in a suit of Drako-Steel Full-Plate. He ripped the sword out of his scabbard and charged at me. I barely managed to parry the mighty warrior.
My sword took a swing at him, but he pushed me against the wall with a spell. Suddenly his armor changed into black regal clothes. He shifted into the shadows and I moved towards the wall. I felt a kick in the back of my skull. "There's a reason I am the Champion, Zalphon," He sighed. "I guess with time you'll learn."
I growled, "Learn or kill you." Rage clouded my mind, but it was soon released. The Champion bowed deeply and took off his full-plate helmet. His skin was as dark as mine, but his was grey, not azure. His eyes were blue, much like mine.
"A Darkal?" I thought. "Really?"
"A dragon actually. I am an Ancient Wyrm, before the Cataclysm," he psychically said. "You're probably wondering what the Cataclysm was. It wasn't the destruction of the world, but millions of dragons were destroyed. We are but of a shadow of our past glory. We still defend the realms from the wicked, but many of us had succumb to corruption."
"You can read my thoughts?" I asked.
"Child, I am older than the Order itself. I could destroy kingdoms with a thought," he stated sternly. "The Cataclysm was when King Alu'kar sent out his forces to kill us. We lived openly amongst the people, defending them from threats. But the King viewed us as a threat. He assembled the greatest force of mortals we'd ever seen. They called themselves the Chosen Ones of Everlight. We eventually killed them off, but at great cost to ourselves. Now dragons are feared and hated, but we still defend them."
"I see, Lord Ravenblood," I calmly said. "Why was the Order of the Dragon started?"
"Young Zalphon, that is a long story that can be told in the many tomes of the Library of the Dragon. We have almost every book ever written. The only we don't is the Spell-Book of Arcanikus and the Spell-Book of our own deity, Drakos," he grumbled. "There is word of an attack to a settlement called Grayshire. As your mentor, I command you to handle it."
"Milord, how will I?" I questoned. "I have no weapons and I barely know any spells."
The Dragon commanded, "Close your eyes, Magick-Born." Obediently, I closed them. He then told me to let my mind clear. Once again, I obeyed.
Suddenly spell formulas filled my mind. And on me was a suit of steel half-plate and a steel longsword. "I have taught you many spells learned by our Apprentices in the Order of the Dragon's Wizards. Use them wisely. These will help you fight small threats, but to learn more important spells study in the Library."
I nodded and Ravenblood cast a spell. I was in Grayshire. Blood went through the air, fires consumed buildings. Battle-cries of orcs could be heard from all around. Grayshire would fall if I didn't save them. I ripped my sword out of the scabbard and walked towards the orcish warlord. "Stand down, Orc and call off your men," I ordered.
"Or else what?" he asked. "You'll hurt me?"
I nodded and he barked. "Men, kill this fool." They charged at me and I muttered a spell. A nova of frost emitted from my body into them. They were frozen in blocks of ice. Not permenantly, but long enough to keep them from disturbing me during the battle.
"Now you die," the Orcish Warlord screamed.
"I don't think so," I goaded. "You'll be the one begging for mercy at my blade. And I'll give you death."
"We shall see," he grunted. "We shall see." The huge, armored, gray-skinned humanoid pulled out a greataxe and smiled with a dark delight. I knew this wouldn't end well, but I was prepared to fight for anything and everything to save these people. Even if it meant death...
This was good, but I couldn't help laughing because I kept picturing that "Grasshopper" and "Master Po" with the Grasshopper doing Zalphon's parts of the story, getting mad at Master Po. I saw a couple nits, but nothing that hurt your story, you know I love your stories!
This is very nice Z! Well done.
QUOTE
I nodded and Ravenblood cast a spell. I was in Grayshire. Blood went through the air, fires consumed buildings. Battle-cries of orcs could be heard from all around. Grayshire would fall if I didn't save them.
I thought this passage was quite powerful and well-phrased.
Chapter Four: Grayshire
The mighty warlord slashed his gargantuan axe at me. With arcane haste, I blocked with my shield and then thrusted. He laughed maniacally, "Foolish elf, I'll break your bones twice as much for that weak blow." The huge axe made a sweeping blow; I somersaulted away.
"Grayshire will not fall to an orc tribe," I hissed. "Not while the Order of the Dragon watches over it." My voice dripped with hatred. I thrusted my blade into his chest, but it bounced off his finely-made orcish platemail.
He threw down his axe. "Lord Vayris, give me the strength to kill this fool," the Orc called out in prayer. "Let me strike down the elf-follower of Drakos." Instantaneously, a black honoured user sword materialized in the orc's hands. With delight, the huge humanoid charged at me and struck me with the blade. My sword was sliced in half and I panicked.
The Warlord thrusted at me, but I dodged. I managed to utter the words of a spell and a ball of red-hot flame burst from my hands into his chest. "Prepare to die, Bezerker," My voice screamed. The mighty humanoid fell to the ground and his dark sword vanished. Calmly, I walked over to him and magically conjured a steel-longsword and put the tip of it at his throat.
"Kill me," the warlord cried. "Or I'll kill you." His voice was scared and intimidated. In orc culture, if you didn't die in battle and you lost the battle, you were a pariah. The gray-skinned humanoid tried to grab his dagger to stab himself.
I gave him my hand and said, "Take it, I refuse to kill an unarmed opponent." With amazing physical strength, he firmly gripped it and lifted himself up.
"What must I do?" He asked. "Master..." His voice was obedient and calm, like a well-paid elven mercenary. His head was hung in shame.
"Defend these people, Thrall," I commanded. "You now serve the Lady of Grayshire. You'll be a guard, one of her royal guard. You will do as she says to the letter."
A soldier came up, "The Lady of Grayshire is dead, Sir."
"I noticed, which is why she will rule over Grayshire," I stated as I pointed to an adolescent darkal. Her hair was dark and short. Her eyes were a shade of violet. The skin that covered her body was light-gray. She wore a ragged skirt and a torn blouse.
"W-Why me?" she asked. "I am just a House Slave to the Graymist Family."
"Artemis, I know who you are. You're a sorcerer," I calmly said. "I sense the flow of magick in your spirit. And I saw the spells you cast, while I fought the Warlord. Without you, the goblin archers would've reigned death like fish in a barrel."
Artemis nervously said, "Th-Thank you, but who are you?" Tears were streaming down Lady Artemis' face. She was so joyous and glad to finally leave her life of servitude behind.
"I am Zalphon," I responded. "I know no riches or wealth, for I am here to defend and protect. And Lady Artemis, rule fairly." The fires were extinguished by the sorcerer and Lord Ravenblood appeared beside me.
"Zalphon, it's time to take your leave," my Mentor commanded. "Farewell, Lady Artemis and the Denizens of Grayshire." Light blue flame consumed us and we appeared in a Keep of the Dragon.
Ravenblood lifted me off the ground by my throat and hissed, "Don't ever abuse your status in the Order like that again. You have no right to grant nobility to anyone without permission from the Council or myself."
"I'm s-s-sorry," I managed to say as I struggled to breathe. Finally he released me and dissapeared in the shadows.
"How does he do that?" I wondered. "Invisibility in the darkness of shadows."
"You'll learn one day," Ravenblood responded. "If you learn to follow the Code."
I sighed. Once again, I irritated my master...
The mighty warlord slashed his gargantuan axe at me. With arcane haste, I blocked with my shield and then thrusted. He laughed maniacally, "Foolish elf, I'll break your bones twice as much for that weak blow." The huge axe made a sweeping blow; I somersaulted away.
"Grayshire will not fall to an orc tribe," I hissed. "Not while the Order of the Dragon watches over it." My voice dripped with hatred. I thrusted my blade into his chest, but it bounced off his finely-made orcish platemail.
He threw down his axe. "Lord Vayris, give me the strength to kill this fool," the Orc called out in prayer. "Let me strike down the elf-follower of Drakos." Instantaneously, a black honoured user sword materialized in the orc's hands. With delight, the huge humanoid charged at me and struck me with the blade. My sword was sliced in half and I panicked.
The Warlord thrusted at me, but I dodged. I managed to utter the words of a spell and a ball of red-hot flame burst from my hands into his chest. "Prepare to die, Bezerker," My voice screamed. The mighty humanoid fell to the ground and his dark sword vanished. Calmly, I walked over to him and magically conjured a steel-longsword and put the tip of it at his throat.
"Kill me," the warlord cried. "Or I'll kill you." His voice was scared and intimidated. In orc culture, if you didn't die in battle and you lost the battle, you were a pariah. The gray-skinned humanoid tried to grab his dagger to stab himself.
I gave him my hand and said, "Take it, I refuse to kill an unarmed opponent." With amazing physical strength, he firmly gripped it and lifted himself up.
"What must I do?" He asked. "Master..." His voice was obedient and calm, like a well-paid elven mercenary. His head was hung in shame.
"Defend these people, Thrall," I commanded. "You now serve the Lady of Grayshire. You'll be a guard, one of her royal guard. You will do as she says to the letter."
A soldier came up, "The Lady of Grayshire is dead, Sir."
"I noticed, which is why she will rule over Grayshire," I stated as I pointed to an adolescent darkal. Her hair was dark and short. Her eyes were a shade of violet. The skin that covered her body was light-gray. She wore a ragged skirt and a torn blouse.
"W-Why me?" she asked. "I am just a House Slave to the Graymist Family."
"Artemis, I know who you are. You're a sorcerer," I calmly said. "I sense the flow of magick in your spirit. And I saw the spells you cast, while I fought the Warlord. Without you, the goblin archers would've reigned death like fish in a barrel."
Artemis nervously said, "Th-Thank you, but who are you?" Tears were streaming down Lady Artemis' face. She was so joyous and glad to finally leave her life of servitude behind.
"I am Zalphon," I responded. "I know no riches or wealth, for I am here to defend and protect. And Lady Artemis, rule fairly." The fires were extinguished by the sorcerer and Lord Ravenblood appeared beside me.
"Zalphon, it's time to take your leave," my Mentor commanded. "Farewell, Lady Artemis and the Denizens of Grayshire." Light blue flame consumed us and we appeared in a Keep of the Dragon.
Ravenblood lifted me off the ground by my throat and hissed, "Don't ever abuse your status in the Order like that again. You have no right to grant nobility to anyone without permission from the Council or myself."
"I'm s-s-sorry," I managed to say as I struggled to breathe. Finally he released me and dissapeared in the shadows.
"How does he do that?" I wondered. "Invisibility in the darkness of shadows."
"You'll learn one day," Ravenblood responded. "If you learn to follow the Code."
I sighed. Once again, I irritated my master...
Poor Zalphon, always irritating his master! I like this chapter, Zalphon (always the hero in my eyes) pulling the child out of slavery and setting her up in wealth but taking none for himself - now that is the Zalphon I have come to know and love!!!!
Chapter Five: The Plane of the Elements
I scanned the tome for any more information. It had been a week since I last spoke with my mentor. During this time, I practiced with fellow squires and kept my nose in spellbooks of previous spellcasters. His voice entered my mind, "My squire, enter the Portal Room and whisper 'The Tower of Lord Ravenblood' and enter the portal. Time is of the essence, young student."
I nodded. I suited up in my steel-platemail and donned my tabard. It was white and had a red dragon on it. With all the speed I could manage to summon, I sprinted to the portal room. Obediently, almost thrall-like I whispered the words and walked into the Gate-Way.
I stood at the top of his tower. To the North, I saw a sea of living fire. To the West, I saw mountains floating in air. To the East, I saw clouds of pure lightning over a mountain with an endless waterfall. To the South, I saw a grand city. Suddenly, my master said, "Welcome to the Plane of the Elements. Each of the Elemental Gods make their home here. This is where my tower is. The Elemental Deities are at constant war with each other, but I stay here nevertheless to study in peace."
"Master, why am I here?" I blurted out. "I read about this place in one of the tomes in the Library." My mind was imagining the inhabitants of this place. Most likely elementals and their followers.
"The High Council has asked that you study here in the Plane of the Elements. They believe that you can learn to harnass the raw power of this place," he stated. "The raw power of this place rivals the power of Drako-Sanctum, the Realm of the Dragons. However, ours is much more refined. This is pure power, untamed by anyone."
"Should I leave the tower?" I questioned. My curiousity ran wild. Perhaps due to the power of this place. I felt it. It rippled through my flesh.
"Under no circumstances, Magick-Born," he commanded. "The Tower is a safe-haven from the Elemental Gods and their followers. Leaving here would be almost certain death. The only portals back to Mathoc is in the Grand Palace of Lord Flamikus, the Grand Citadel of Lady Frostblood, the Grand Keep of Lord Stone, and the Grand Castle of Lord Aeros. Entrance to those places is insanely difficult, almost impossible unless you're of at least demi-god status or a high-cleric or high-priest of said deity."
"I see."
"Leave this place under no circumstances, unless commanded. Understood," he said. "If so, then head down to the Training Room. For six hours, you'll fight against magickally-animated suits of armor. For six hours, you'll study in tomes and spellbooks. For six hours, you'll sleep. For the remainder of your time, you can do as you wish."
"Understood, Lord Ravenblood," I responded.
"Excellent, Squire Zalphon," the Champion nodded. "Begin your training... Immediately..."
I scanned the tome for any more information. It had been a week since I last spoke with my mentor. During this time, I practiced with fellow squires and kept my nose in spellbooks of previous spellcasters. His voice entered my mind, "My squire, enter the Portal Room and whisper 'The Tower of Lord Ravenblood' and enter the portal. Time is of the essence, young student."
I nodded. I suited up in my steel-platemail and donned my tabard. It was white and had a red dragon on it. With all the speed I could manage to summon, I sprinted to the portal room. Obediently, almost thrall-like I whispered the words and walked into the Gate-Way.
I stood at the top of his tower. To the North, I saw a sea of living fire. To the West, I saw mountains floating in air. To the East, I saw clouds of pure lightning over a mountain with an endless waterfall. To the South, I saw a grand city. Suddenly, my master said, "Welcome to the Plane of the Elements. Each of the Elemental Gods make their home here. This is where my tower is. The Elemental Deities are at constant war with each other, but I stay here nevertheless to study in peace."
"Master, why am I here?" I blurted out. "I read about this place in one of the tomes in the Library." My mind was imagining the inhabitants of this place. Most likely elementals and their followers.
"The High Council has asked that you study here in the Plane of the Elements. They believe that you can learn to harnass the raw power of this place," he stated. "The raw power of this place rivals the power of Drako-Sanctum, the Realm of the Dragons. However, ours is much more refined. This is pure power, untamed by anyone."
"Should I leave the tower?" I questioned. My curiousity ran wild. Perhaps due to the power of this place. I felt it. It rippled through my flesh.
"Under no circumstances, Magick-Born," he commanded. "The Tower is a safe-haven from the Elemental Gods and their followers. Leaving here would be almost certain death. The only portals back to Mathoc is in the Grand Palace of Lord Flamikus, the Grand Citadel of Lady Frostblood, the Grand Keep of Lord Stone, and the Grand Castle of Lord Aeros. Entrance to those places is insanely difficult, almost impossible unless you're of at least demi-god status or a high-cleric or high-priest of said deity."
"I see."
"Leave this place under no circumstances, unless commanded. Understood," he said. "If so, then head down to the Training Room. For six hours, you'll fight against magickally-animated suits of armor. For six hours, you'll study in tomes and spellbooks. For six hours, you'll sleep. For the remainder of your time, you can do as you wish."
"Understood, Lord Ravenblood," I responded.
"Excellent, Squire Zalphon," the Champion nodded. "Begin your training... Immediately..."
I think I saw the Plane of the Elements in a Peter Max poster once.
Zalphon you are doing an AWESOME job with this story!!!!!! I can't get over how you come up with these innovative ideas, you ROCK!!!!
Zalphon you are doing an AWESOME job with this story!!!!!! I can't get over how you come up with these innovative ideas, you ROCK!!!!
Chapter Six: The Duel
Ten years passed while I studied. The longest ten years of my life were in that tower. Rnfiavenblood appeared behind me, oncemore. I had aged, I was slightly taller, much more muscular, and wiser. "It's time for the Trials of the Dragon," He stated sternly. "You have been under my watch for ten years, it's time for us to return to the Plane of Mortals and you to take the test."
"I will not fail you, Milord," I responded. "I shall succeed and be named Knight of the Dragon." My voice dripped with confidence. I had become more than I ever thought possible during my training in the Elemental Plane.
We both walked to the top of the tower and into the portal. This time I was in some quarters. On the bed was a suit of Drako-Steel Armor with a note on it. The armor was silvery and a tabard of the Dragon was next to it. The note read, "Zalphon, this is your new armor wear it proudly. Your sword will be the one you're knighted with. Drakos himself enchanted it to always be sharp, never to break, and to destroy your enemies with it's elemental power. ~Lord Ravenblood."
The armor felt light, weightless even. I donned the tabard and walked into the Ceremony Room. At each side were hundreds, if not thousands of spectators. Drakos stood on the stage with a sword. I whispered a spell and saw runes engraved in the blade.
As I reached the steps, I grinned. I kneeled when I was on the stage and with the flat end of the blade, I was knighted. Ravenblood stood nearby and I had to take an oath. "I swear, to always uphold the code and the Order's honor. To not lie, cheat, steal, or use poisons. This, I swear." An applause echoed through the huge room.
I stood up and he handed me my blade. I shoved it in the scabbard and took off my gauntlet. I threw it at the ground by Lord Ravenblood. "There can only be one champion," he stated. "And I have no intentions of stepping down, Knight." He bent over and lifted the gauntlet.
Gasps filled the room, I had just challenged the Champion of the Order to a duel. "What're your conditions, Zalphon?" Drakos asked.
"A duel to the death, no use of shadow-melding and invisibility," I blurted.
"Zalphon, do you know what you've just done?" Ravenblood asked. "You've just challenged a demi-god to a duel to the death."
"Obviously," I responded. "However, Lord Ravenblood you seem to be forgetting. You taught me all of your tricks, spells, and abilities."
He pulled his sword out of the scabbard and sighed deeply, "This will be quick, brother. I will be quite saddened by your death."
I pulled my sword out as well. Drakos and the other Council Members left the stage. He slashed at me, but I parried with draconic haste. Ravenblood tried to mutter a spell called, "The Dragon's Breath," but I counter-spelled it. "You've learned," he commented as we slashed at one-another.
"I did learn from the best," I responded. "Good thing I am about to be the best." I thrusted my blade into his chest.
"Indeed you are," he struggled to say. "Goodbye, Prince Zalphon of Everlight."
With extreme rage I turned around, "Prince Zalphon?" Drakos frowned, as did the other Council Members. His frown showed me the words of Ravenblood were true.
"Yes, King Alu'kar is your father," Drakos stated. "You're rightfully entitled to the Kingdom."
In rage, I burst out the doors to the portal room. I was going to Sythariss to find Lord Vayris and train under him. If the Order lied about this, they surely had lied about him as well. Who knows what else they lied about...
Fifteen minutes later in the Council Room...
"I have failed," Drakos stated. "I have failed."
"Indeed you have," a hissing voice came. "Indeed you have."
"Fenix, my brother?" The Dragon-God called out. "What're you doing here?"
"Ensuring Zalphon's rise to power," Fenix hissed. He thrust a sword into Drakos' heart and the deity fell. The Dragon-God was dead.
"Farewell," The God of Manipulation called out as he entered a portal. "This is just the beginning of his rise to power. In a decade or so, he'll bring this kingdom, the most powerful kingdom in Mathoc. The only one, in fact to its knees. And eventually the gods to their knees..."
Ten years passed while I studied. The longest ten years of my life were in that tower. Rnfiavenblood appeared behind me, oncemore. I had aged, I was slightly taller, much more muscular, and wiser. "It's time for the Trials of the Dragon," He stated sternly. "You have been under my watch for ten years, it's time for us to return to the Plane of Mortals and you to take the test."
"I will not fail you, Milord," I responded. "I shall succeed and be named Knight of the Dragon." My voice dripped with confidence. I had become more than I ever thought possible during my training in the Elemental Plane.
We both walked to the top of the tower and into the portal. This time I was in some quarters. On the bed was a suit of Drako-Steel Armor with a note on it. The armor was silvery and a tabard of the Dragon was next to it. The note read, "Zalphon, this is your new armor wear it proudly. Your sword will be the one you're knighted with. Drakos himself enchanted it to always be sharp, never to break, and to destroy your enemies with it's elemental power. ~Lord Ravenblood."
The armor felt light, weightless even. I donned the tabard and walked into the Ceremony Room. At each side were hundreds, if not thousands of spectators. Drakos stood on the stage with a sword. I whispered a spell and saw runes engraved in the blade.
As I reached the steps, I grinned. I kneeled when I was on the stage and with the flat end of the blade, I was knighted. Ravenblood stood nearby and I had to take an oath. "I swear, to always uphold the code and the Order's honor. To not lie, cheat, steal, or use poisons. This, I swear." An applause echoed through the huge room.
I stood up and he handed me my blade. I shoved it in the scabbard and took off my gauntlet. I threw it at the ground by Lord Ravenblood. "There can only be one champion," he stated. "And I have no intentions of stepping down, Knight." He bent over and lifted the gauntlet.
Gasps filled the room, I had just challenged the Champion of the Order to a duel. "What're your conditions, Zalphon?" Drakos asked.
"A duel to the death, no use of shadow-melding and invisibility," I blurted.
"Zalphon, do you know what you've just done?" Ravenblood asked. "You've just challenged a demi-god to a duel to the death."
"Obviously," I responded. "However, Lord Ravenblood you seem to be forgetting. You taught me all of your tricks, spells, and abilities."
He pulled his sword out of the scabbard and sighed deeply, "This will be quick, brother. I will be quite saddened by your death."
I pulled my sword out as well. Drakos and the other Council Members left the stage. He slashed at me, but I parried with draconic haste. Ravenblood tried to mutter a spell called, "The Dragon's Breath," but I counter-spelled it. "You've learned," he commented as we slashed at one-another.
"I did learn from the best," I responded. "Good thing I am about to be the best." I thrusted my blade into his chest.
"Indeed you are," he struggled to say. "Goodbye, Prince Zalphon of Everlight."
With extreme rage I turned around, "Prince Zalphon?" Drakos frowned, as did the other Council Members. His frown showed me the words of Ravenblood were true.
"Yes, King Alu'kar is your father," Drakos stated. "You're rightfully entitled to the Kingdom."
In rage, I burst out the doors to the portal room. I was going to Sythariss to find Lord Vayris and train under him. If the Order lied about this, they surely had lied about him as well. Who knows what else they lied about...
Fifteen minutes later in the Council Room...
"I have failed," Drakos stated. "I have failed."
"Indeed you have," a hissing voice came. "Indeed you have."
"Fenix, my brother?" The Dragon-God called out. "What're you doing here?"
"Ensuring Zalphon's rise to power," Fenix hissed. He thrust a sword into Drakos' heart and the deity fell. The Dragon-God was dead.
"Farewell," The God of Manipulation called out as he entered a portal. "This is just the beginning of his rise to power. In a decade or so, he'll bring this kingdom, the most powerful kingdom in Mathoc. The only one, in fact to its knees. And eventually the gods to their knees..."
Holy Cow! Where do you think up these twists and turns? AWESOME Zalphon !!!!!!!!
Chapter Seven: Sythariss
The jungles of Sythariss were quite dense and thick with foliage on the outer-rims of the province. However, as I got deeper in, they seemed less like jungles and more like the Abyss. Legend was that a Demon-Prince came to Sythariss hundreds of thousands of years ago and opened a Gateway to the Abyss. The creatures I passed look more demonic as I moved forward through the thick-foliage of the hellacious place.
I saw a collossal ziggurat and smiled. At the entrance stood two guards in black armor with black cloaks. They held halberds. I walked forward and stated, "Shadows guide you." They backed away and let me in. The Black Ziggurat was tainted with Abyssal Magick. It pricked at my skin as I walked.
I reached the Throne Room and there he sat on a bone-throne. "Lord Vayris," I called out. "I have come to serve you, Milord." He wore black robes and had a black hood up. A scarf covered his mouth and nose. In his right hand was a staff made of bone imbued with the spirits of Enslaved Angels and Knights of the Dragons.
I kneeled obediently. "I told you we'd meet again all those years ago," he stated. "Finally, we do. I know why you've come. The Order taught you the Arcane Arts of Magick, but you'd like to learn the darker arts. That I can do, or actually my champion can do.
Out of the shadows came Lord Kristopher Ravenblood. His skin was rotted and he had the stench of rot surrounding him. "Surprised?" he asked. "I would be, I used my powerful magick to hide my true nature. Yes, I am a Drakolich."
"Ravenblood, I thought I had killed you," Zalphon called out. "How do you still live?"
"I was already dead and more powerful than you ever knew. I am a Lich Master, one of the few survivors of the War of Necromancy. I am one of the seven Lich Masters alive," he continued. "We are the most powerful of all liches and necromancers."
"Milord, will you teach me?" I couldn't help but asked. "I must learn everything you can teach me."
"Gladly, Zalphon," he nodded. "You however must pass the Trials of the Shadow Knight and the Trials of the Necromancer to be worthy of apprenticeship to a lich."
"What must I do?" I asked. "I must know!"
"Head to the Students' Quarters, Lich-Lord Victor Shadowmare," he commanded. "You'll learn quickly, and eventually you'll be ready for the Trials of the Lich. And after reading the Ancient Prophecies, legend is you'll be the Arch-Lich chosen to bring necromancers and liches back to power!"
I obeyed and rushed to the Students' Quarters, eager to learn...
The jungles of Sythariss were quite dense and thick with foliage on the outer-rims of the province. However, as I got deeper in, they seemed less like jungles and more like the Abyss. Legend was that a Demon-Prince came to Sythariss hundreds of thousands of years ago and opened a Gateway to the Abyss. The creatures I passed look more demonic as I moved forward through the thick-foliage of the hellacious place.
I saw a collossal ziggurat and smiled. At the entrance stood two guards in black armor with black cloaks. They held halberds. I walked forward and stated, "Shadows guide you." They backed away and let me in. The Black Ziggurat was tainted with Abyssal Magick. It pricked at my skin as I walked.
I reached the Throne Room and there he sat on a bone-throne. "Lord Vayris," I called out. "I have come to serve you, Milord." He wore black robes and had a black hood up. A scarf covered his mouth and nose. In his right hand was a staff made of bone imbued with the spirits of Enslaved Angels and Knights of the Dragons.
I kneeled obediently. "I told you we'd meet again all those years ago," he stated. "Finally, we do. I know why you've come. The Order taught you the Arcane Arts of Magick, but you'd like to learn the darker arts. That I can do, or actually my champion can do.
Out of the shadows came Lord Kristopher Ravenblood. His skin was rotted and he had the stench of rot surrounding him. "Surprised?" he asked. "I would be, I used my powerful magick to hide my true nature. Yes, I am a Drakolich."
"Ravenblood, I thought I had killed you," Zalphon called out. "How do you still live?"
"I was already dead and more powerful than you ever knew. I am a Lich Master, one of the few survivors of the War of Necromancy. I am one of the seven Lich Masters alive," he continued. "We are the most powerful of all liches and necromancers."
"Milord, will you teach me?" I couldn't help but asked. "I must learn everything you can teach me."
"Gladly, Zalphon," he nodded. "You however must pass the Trials of the Shadow Knight and the Trials of the Necromancer to be worthy of apprenticeship to a lich."
"What must I do?" I asked. "I must know!"
"Head to the Students' Quarters, Lich-Lord Victor Shadowmare," he commanded. "You'll learn quickly, and eventually you'll be ready for the Trials of the Lich. And after reading the Ancient Prophecies, legend is you'll be the Arch-Lich chosen to bring necromancers and liches back to power!"
I obeyed and rushed to the Students' Quarters, eager to learn...
Okay, I caught up and I like it. I think you're being brave making up your own world. Well done! (although there are plenty things that are borrowed you could've made up yourself but I appreciate it's hard, if not impossible, to do something truly original with a chewed-up genre Fantasy basically is.)
However; there are some things I feel I need to point out.
Sometimes it feels a bit rushed. I would like to see more motives and explanation (and not just say he wants to become more powerful cause thats oversimplified imo). Why does Zalphon (who was keen on helping people some chapters earlier) want to be turned into something as awful as a Lich which is basically a walking coprse? A powerful one but still a corpse. Doesnt make sense imo. No good can come from that right?
A small nit here:
"Ravenblood, I thought I had killed you," Zalphon called out. "How do you still live?"
You jumped POV here. Everything else is written from Z's POV but now it jumped to third person POV.
One thing that kind of bothered me was the fight between Ravenlord ans Zalphon. It was over before it really started. If Ravenlord threw the match, I would've liked it if you had dropped a hint of why he would do that.
That battle should've been epic imo.
I hope it's some help, I am not trying to bring you down or be overly critical of your story. Which I enjoy btw!! Keep it up!
However; there are some things I feel I need to point out.
Sometimes it feels a bit rushed. I would like to see more motives and explanation (and not just say he wants to become more powerful cause thats oversimplified imo). Why does Zalphon (who was keen on helping people some chapters earlier) want to be turned into something as awful as a Lich which is basically a walking coprse? A powerful one but still a corpse. Doesnt make sense imo. No good can come from that right?
A small nit here:
QUOTE
"Ravenblood, I thought I had killed you," Zalphon called out. "How do you still live?"
You jumped POV here. Everything else is written from Z's POV but now it jumped to third person POV.
One thing that kind of bothered me was the fight between Ravenlord ans Zalphon. It was over before it really started. If Ravenlord threw the match, I would've liked it if you had dropped a hint of why he would do that.
That battle should've been epic imo.
I hope it's some help, I am not trying to bring you down or be overly critical of your story. Which I enjoy btw!! Keep it up!
Whew! This ROCKS!
If you were a member of a hunted and illegal organization, and you knew someone would become a hero of said organization and stop them from being hunted, would you kill them? Ravenblood knows of Zalphon's future and is quite happy to be rid of the Order.
Edit: And to the lich comment. Liches are extremely powerful and are in all essence, demi-gods. The Ritual of Lichcraft is so complex and difficult, it can take years to learn a single page of the hundreds of pages of the ritual. But in return for their efforts, with mere thoughts they can control legions of the living dead.
Liches in Mathoc aren't like Elder Scrolls or DnD Liches. They're extremely powerful, physically and mentally. Usually they choose robes, but some choose a suit of platemail and a longsword. They're walking corpses, yes. But, they're not controlled. They can decimate entire countries with a spell or slay men who have trained their entire lives with swords in a duel of swordplay.
The weakest of all liches, could overpower some of the most powerful mortal men. They aren't bound by sleep, food, water. Some become liches for good purposes like furthering their life to become an Eternal Guardian of a Village (albeit hated.)
Others do it for neutral reasons, like persuing more knowledge with their new-found lifespan and lack-of-needs.
Others do it for evil reasons, like dominating nations or furthering their control over others.
Edit: And to the lich comment. Liches are extremely powerful and are in all essence, demi-gods. The Ritual of Lichcraft is so complex and difficult, it can take years to learn a single page of the hundreds of pages of the ritual. But in return for their efforts, with mere thoughts they can control legions of the living dead.
Liches in Mathoc aren't like Elder Scrolls or DnD Liches. They're extremely powerful, physically and mentally. Usually they choose robes, but some choose a suit of platemail and a longsword. They're walking corpses, yes. But, they're not controlled. They can decimate entire countries with a spell or slay men who have trained their entire lives with swords in a duel of swordplay.
The weakest of all liches, could overpower some of the most powerful mortal men. They aren't bound by sleep, food, water. Some become liches for good purposes like furthering their life to become an Eternal Guardian of a Village (albeit hated.)
Others do it for neutral reasons, like persuing more knowledge with their new-found lifespan and lack-of-needs.
Others do it for evil reasons, like dominating nations or furthering their control over others.
It is nice to read the story of the younger Zalphon. Plenty of action here!
Chapter Eight: Trials of the Shadow Knight
The physical bringers of the darkness are called Shadow Knights. They know some necromancy, but they focus mostly on swordplay. Victor hissed, "Ravenblood told me about you. He says good things about your skill in the magick of the Evoker, let's see your talents in physical battle." His voice dripped with cruelty. He wore a suit of magick Drako-Weave Clothes. Enchanted to be as strong as Dragon Scales and even more freeing. In his hands were a great sword.
"I will teach you a lesson in humiliation, Lich," I cried out as I charged at him My blade in hand, with ease he parried. His unnatural dexterity was astonishing. With a mighty blow I felt my flesh being severed from the bone.
"Child, you're skill in true swordplay is weak. The Order taught you the Way of the Dragon Sword-Style. Use this way," he commanded. Suddenly his blade weaved through the air like a dancer. It was a blur.
"How did you do that?" I questioned. "Was that a secretive lich-only teaching?"
"All Shadow Knights have learned how to use the Way of the Fallen," he stated. "It involves channeling your spirit to become one with all who have fallen to you. And remembering their agony internally, while you add more to the list externally."
"Shall I try?" I asked.
He nodded. Suddenly I let my mind think about all the times I took life. From the gladiator fights to the Elementals of the Plane of the Elements. I focused on their agony and it was as if I was having an out-of-body experience. My sword flew through the air as if I was a master of the blade. "Excellent," he exclaimed.
"Milord, I would like to learn the language of the dead," I said. "The Necromancers say it allows them to cast necromantic spells."
"Not yet," he shook his head. "Deathspeak can kill a learner if they aren't ready mentally. I can sense your innocence, due to your young age."
I growled, "The Order also taught us how the Shadow Knights and Necromancers never needed to rest, care to explain?"
"Tap into your inner darkness," he commanded. "Feel the manipulation and domination. Leave the rage and hatred."
Obediently, I did. I felt unholy vigor surround my body. As if I had slept for several hours. "How does this technique work?" I questioned.
"The Shadow Knights and Necromancers use dark arts. We're the very essence of death, just as the Order of the Dragon and the Angels of Skyhaven are the very essence of life," he explained. "The Angels can be re-energized by focusing all the times they've protected others so can the Order."
"More lies," I grumbled. "Milord, is this the end of our lesson?"
"Yes, you still have years of knowledge to learn young student. Years," he continued. "Go to your quarters and I want you to meditate by focusing on your inner darkness for twenty-four hours. Do this and you'll feel your flesh heal from the agony."
Gladly, I did. I was embracing the darkness fully and completely...
The physical bringers of the darkness are called Shadow Knights. They know some necromancy, but they focus mostly on swordplay. Victor hissed, "Ravenblood told me about you. He says good things about your skill in the magick of the Evoker, let's see your talents in physical battle." His voice dripped with cruelty. He wore a suit of magick Drako-Weave Clothes. Enchanted to be as strong as Dragon Scales and even more freeing. In his hands were a great sword.
"I will teach you a lesson in humiliation, Lich," I cried out as I charged at him My blade in hand, with ease he parried. His unnatural dexterity was astonishing. With a mighty blow I felt my flesh being severed from the bone.
"Child, you're skill in true swordplay is weak. The Order taught you the Way of the Dragon Sword-Style. Use this way," he commanded. Suddenly his blade weaved through the air like a dancer. It was a blur.
"How did you do that?" I questioned. "Was that a secretive lich-only teaching?"
"All Shadow Knights have learned how to use the Way of the Fallen," he stated. "It involves channeling your spirit to become one with all who have fallen to you. And remembering their agony internally, while you add more to the list externally."
"Shall I try?" I asked.
He nodded. Suddenly I let my mind think about all the times I took life. From the gladiator fights to the Elementals of the Plane of the Elements. I focused on their agony and it was as if I was having an out-of-body experience. My sword flew through the air as if I was a master of the blade. "Excellent," he exclaimed.
"Milord, I would like to learn the language of the dead," I said. "The Necromancers say it allows them to cast necromantic spells."
"Not yet," he shook his head. "Deathspeak can kill a learner if they aren't ready mentally. I can sense your innocence, due to your young age."
I growled, "The Order also taught us how the Shadow Knights and Necromancers never needed to rest, care to explain?"
"Tap into your inner darkness," he commanded. "Feel the manipulation and domination. Leave the rage and hatred."
Obediently, I did. I felt unholy vigor surround my body. As if I had slept for several hours. "How does this technique work?" I questioned.
"The Shadow Knights and Necromancers use dark arts. We're the very essence of death, just as the Order of the Dragon and the Angels of Skyhaven are the very essence of life," he explained. "The Angels can be re-energized by focusing all the times they've protected others so can the Order."
"More lies," I grumbled. "Milord, is this the end of our lesson?"
"Yes, you still have years of knowledge to learn young student. Years," he continued. "Go to your quarters and I want you to meditate by focusing on your inner darkness for twenty-four hours. Do this and you'll feel your flesh heal from the agony."
Gladly, I did. I was embracing the darkness fully and completely...
ARGH! That is so cool! I will have to feed my manipulation and domination!!!!! AWESOME Zalphon!!!!!
Necromancy is a powerful art.
Chapter Nine: The Trials of the Shadow Knight II
I felt the very essence of the dead surround me. I was in a trance, I saw myself walking through the Realm of the Dead, Darkfallen. The spirits and the restless walked amongst me, staring at me. I hissed and tormented them with my spells of evocation.
Suddenly I heard his hallowed voice. "Stand up, Dread Knight," Victor commanded. "Yes, you're a Dread Knight, they're the shock-troopers of Lord Vayris. Soon enough, you'll be a Shadow Knight, one of his leaders."
"Lord Victor, I was staring into the Darkfallen," I stated. "The innocent spirits were scorched and frozen by my evocation spells. It felt so--right. Their cries of anguish, their tears of agony, their sheer terror, it empowered me."
"Tis the way of the Shadow Knight to be empowered by his foe's suffering," the Lich-Lord continued. "Not all Shadow Knights serve the Dark Lord. Many are actually Guardians of Villages and Swords for hire. However, they all recieve their unnatural power from the dead."
"If they defend people and are so 'noble', why do they torment the dead?" I asked.
"They torment dead murderers, thieves, rapists, the sort of people who were thugs in life," he explained. "Shadow Knights are all taught the code. The Order of the Dragon also teaches it. We do not lie, cheat, nor steal. We'll tear you to pieces, but we're honorable."
"Milord, perhaps it's time for me to perform the Trials of the Shadow Knight?" I questioned. "I feel so powerful and strong, strong enough to kill...King Alu'Kar."
"You're eagerness is too strong. We fight not because we love war, but we fight to bring glory to the Dark Lord. One day, you will be the only one to kill King Everlight. Not today, but it'll most likely be the Trials of the Lich that you face him."
"Honestly, I could slaughter him like a pig now," I grumbled.
With acid dripping in his voice and laced with irritation, Lord Victor hissed, "You're lust for war will be your undoing, young Zalphon." The Lich-Lord left hastily and I with an anxious grin opened a book. It was a Spellbook. The writing was in ancient runes.
"Deathspeak," I thought. "Finally, I can begin my studying." As I began to translate the first word, I was thrown against the wall. Blackness filled my vision and I felt coldness surround my body. The last thing I saw was Lord Vayris...
When I awoke, I was still in the room. The book was still there and I picked it up. The language felt natural as if it were written in Draconic. I read it with ease. "Enjoying the book," Victor asked. "I knew your temptation would lead you to read it. The Students of Lord Vayris never learn Deathspeak from their masters, they must be self-reliant enough to read it themselves. I told you not to read the book, and against my orders you did. Congratulations, you've passed the Trials of the Shadow Knight."
"What?" I gasped.
"The Shadow Knight must do what he thinks is best to further his cause as long as he is still following the code," Victor continued. "You thought you'd be making yourself more powerful by learning the language and you reaped the rewards. I will now teach you two newer techniques on how to become more powerful."
"Hmmm," I said.
He said some words in Deathspeak and images rushed through my mind. One was of me standing over a fallen foe and kneeling over him whispering a spell. A black beam from the palm of my hand to his heart. Energy filled my body. I was siphoning his very soul and using it to empower myself.
Next, I saw myself fighting so skillfully I thought it was a master swordsman. Then I saw my mind, I was in Darkfallen mentally tormenting the dead spirits with my blade. My dexterity and strength was heightened beyond words, not only in Darkfallen, but in Mathoc as well. I also felt something right at that moment. I was much stronger and physically more powerful. The Way of the Shadow Knight.
"Learn how to use these abilities, Shadow Knight. The first one is the Way of the Soul Vampire. Like Blood Vampires, you sustain yourself by killing the living. However, you use their very souls. You can live without it, but siphoning souls is much more powerful than any other technique. The Way of the Shadow Knight is a technique used by the most powerful Shadow Knights. Only liches, angels, and dragons know more powerful ways of combat," Victor explained. "Enjoy your new-found power and begin the Trials of the Necromancer in the morning."
I felt the very essence of the dead surround me. I was in a trance, I saw myself walking through the Realm of the Dead, Darkfallen. The spirits and the restless walked amongst me, staring at me. I hissed and tormented them with my spells of evocation.
Suddenly I heard his hallowed voice. "Stand up, Dread Knight," Victor commanded. "Yes, you're a Dread Knight, they're the shock-troopers of Lord Vayris. Soon enough, you'll be a Shadow Knight, one of his leaders."
"Lord Victor, I was staring into the Darkfallen," I stated. "The innocent spirits were scorched and frozen by my evocation spells. It felt so--right. Their cries of anguish, their tears of agony, their sheer terror, it empowered me."
"Tis the way of the Shadow Knight to be empowered by his foe's suffering," the Lich-Lord continued. "Not all Shadow Knights serve the Dark Lord. Many are actually Guardians of Villages and Swords for hire. However, they all recieve their unnatural power from the dead."
"If they defend people and are so 'noble', why do they torment the dead?" I asked.
"They torment dead murderers, thieves, rapists, the sort of people who were thugs in life," he explained. "Shadow Knights are all taught the code. The Order of the Dragon also teaches it. We do not lie, cheat, nor steal. We'll tear you to pieces, but we're honorable."
"Milord, perhaps it's time for me to perform the Trials of the Shadow Knight?" I questioned. "I feel so powerful and strong, strong enough to kill...King Alu'Kar."
"You're eagerness is too strong. We fight not because we love war, but we fight to bring glory to the Dark Lord. One day, you will be the only one to kill King Everlight. Not today, but it'll most likely be the Trials of the Lich that you face him."
"Honestly, I could slaughter him like a pig now," I grumbled.
With acid dripping in his voice and laced with irritation, Lord Victor hissed, "You're lust for war will be your undoing, young Zalphon." The Lich-Lord left hastily and I with an anxious grin opened a book. It was a Spellbook. The writing was in ancient runes.
"Deathspeak," I thought. "Finally, I can begin my studying." As I began to translate the first word, I was thrown against the wall. Blackness filled my vision and I felt coldness surround my body. The last thing I saw was Lord Vayris...
When I awoke, I was still in the room. The book was still there and I picked it up. The language felt natural as if it were written in Draconic. I read it with ease. "Enjoying the book," Victor asked. "I knew your temptation would lead you to read it. The Students of Lord Vayris never learn Deathspeak from their masters, they must be self-reliant enough to read it themselves. I told you not to read the book, and against my orders you did. Congratulations, you've passed the Trials of the Shadow Knight."
"What?" I gasped.
"The Shadow Knight must do what he thinks is best to further his cause as long as he is still following the code," Victor continued. "You thought you'd be making yourself more powerful by learning the language and you reaped the rewards. I will now teach you two newer techniques on how to become more powerful."
"Hmmm," I said.
He said some words in Deathspeak and images rushed through my mind. One was of me standing over a fallen foe and kneeling over him whispering a spell. A black beam from the palm of my hand to his heart. Energy filled my body. I was siphoning his very soul and using it to empower myself.
Next, I saw myself fighting so skillfully I thought it was a master swordsman. Then I saw my mind, I was in Darkfallen mentally tormenting the dead spirits with my blade. My dexterity and strength was heightened beyond words, not only in Darkfallen, but in Mathoc as well. I also felt something right at that moment. I was much stronger and physically more powerful. The Way of the Shadow Knight.
"Learn how to use these abilities, Shadow Knight. The first one is the Way of the Soul Vampire. Like Blood Vampires, you sustain yourself by killing the living. However, you use their very souls. You can live without it, but siphoning souls is much more powerful than any other technique. The Way of the Shadow Knight is a technique used by the most powerful Shadow Knights. Only liches, angels, and dragons know more powerful ways of combat," Victor explained. "Enjoy your new-found power and begin the Trials of the Necromancer in the morning."
Zalphon, this is one of the best chapters so far, Awesome job!!!!!
Ahh.. things are starting to fall into place. I liked it! Shadow knights are a bit like Spawn? Dark Avengers for justice. Means to and end, that kinda stuff. Awesome Z!
Especially this line:
Especially this line:
QUOTE
The Order of the Dragon also teaches it. We do not lie, cheat, nor steal. We'll tear you to pieces, but we're honorable."
As sometimes happens when reading your stories, I have an image of the Emperer talking to young Darth Vader. . .
Zalphon is far from Vader. I picture him more as Darth Revan. Powerful, influential, and strong-willed.
Chapter Ten: The Battle of the Temple
A loud, crashing sonic boom filled the corridors of the Temple. I sensed their presence, their foul presence. The Order had come to kill my lord and me. They came for a fight and I was ready. With great haste, I firmly gripped Nightsinger and walked out. Samantha Draconis, a high elven knight was one I had courted during my time as a squire. We were both squires. "Zalphon," she cried. "What have they done to you? Resist the feeling of the wicked and Grandmaster Myris will accept you back if you atone."
"Resist the feeling? Grandmaster Myris will accept me? What about Drakos?" I questioned. "And I'll die before I go back to the lying scum of the Order."
"Drakos died the day you threw down your sword and left. Some say it was the Dark Lord that killed him, others say he died of grief. You were his best friend," Lady Draconis glumy stated. "Please, surrender. I love you, Zalphon."
"Liar," I screamed. My mind went into Darkfallen and I fought. I could feel her anguish as my blade slid down her body and allowed the blood to escape. The agony, the terror, oh the vigor it gave me. I left Darkfallen and saw her fall to the ground.
"I'm sorry," she whispered as I knelt down by her. "For not stopping you."
I ran to the Throne-Room and saw Lord Fenix standing over Lord Vayris. Vayris was dying and Fenix gently commanded, "Come over here, Zalphon. Feel your deity's pain."
Obediently, I did. "Perform the killing blow and with it seal the Darkfallen. The dead deserve to rest," Fenix calmly explained. "You'll needn't rely on their anguish for your power, for you'll be much more powerful without it."
"Yes, Milord," I beheaded my god. I knew what Fenix said was a wise choice. He had visited me before many times and was like a father-figure to me. I began to siphon his soul and when the black beam dissipated into nothingness... Darkness filled my vision and I was unconscious...
A loud, crashing sonic boom filled the corridors of the Temple. I sensed their presence, their foul presence. The Order had come to kill my lord and me. They came for a fight and I was ready. With great haste, I firmly gripped Nightsinger and walked out. Samantha Draconis, a high elven knight was one I had courted during my time as a squire. We were both squires. "Zalphon," she cried. "What have they done to you? Resist the feeling of the wicked and Grandmaster Myris will accept you back if you atone."
"Resist the feeling? Grandmaster Myris will accept me? What about Drakos?" I questioned. "And I'll die before I go back to the lying scum of the Order."
"Drakos died the day you threw down your sword and left. Some say it was the Dark Lord that killed him, others say he died of grief. You were his best friend," Lady Draconis glumy stated. "Please, surrender. I love you, Zalphon."
"Liar," I screamed. My mind went into Darkfallen and I fought. I could feel her anguish as my blade slid down her body and allowed the blood to escape. The agony, the terror, oh the vigor it gave me. I left Darkfallen and saw her fall to the ground.
"I'm sorry," she whispered as I knelt down by her. "For not stopping you."
I ran to the Throne-Room and saw Lord Fenix standing over Lord Vayris. Vayris was dying and Fenix gently commanded, "Come over here, Zalphon. Feel your deity's pain."
Obediently, I did. "Perform the killing blow and with it seal the Darkfallen. The dead deserve to rest," Fenix calmly explained. "You'll needn't rely on their anguish for your power, for you'll be much more powerful without it."
"Yes, Milord," I beheaded my god. I knew what Fenix said was a wise choice. He had visited me before many times and was like a father-figure to me. I began to siphon his soul and when the black beam dissipated into nothingness... Darkness filled my vision and I was unconscious...
Your writing improves constantly. I am not sure exactly why Zalphon is on this bloodbath rampage, but it is well written! I love the way you have turned some of the phrases.
Chapter Eleven: The Rise to Power
When I awoke, Fenix stood over me. My entire body burned, as if in my veins was acid. He stated, "Lord Vayris was a powerful lich, the Arch Lich. Take a look at yourself." Suddenly a magickal mirror appeared in front of me. My skin was rotting and pale, my hair was white and long.
"What happened to me?" I questioned. "Am I dead?"
"Well yes," He explained. "You're a lich. The Arch-Lich. When you drained his soul, you drained his power with it. You can take the Throne as God of Death, Unlife, and Necromancy. If you so choose, Milord."
"I have business in Everlight to settle, Fenix," I grumbled. "With your powerful magick, transform his body into a suit of God-Steel Platemail for me to wear and a God-Weave Cloak. The Prince of Everlight is going to become King."
"Yes, milord," the Lord of Manipulation said. Suddenly a suit of lightless, black armor appeared on me and a black cloak on my back. In my scabbard was my longsword, "Nightsinger," but in a different body. A god-steel blade.
Lord Fenix opened a portal and I appeared in Castle Everlight's Throne Room. "Who are you?" The Hyekal Tyrant asked. "I have no meetings with anyone today. And you wreak of death."
I pulled off my helmet, "It's me, Father. Zalphon."
The color drained from his face as I pulled my sword out of the scabbard. I put the tip to his throat and hissed, "You killed my mother, you sold me, you denied me my birthright. I am no Everlight, you're family is a clan of liars. I'm a Broodikus." I plunged the blade into his neck and smiled.
The guards came rushing in and screamed, "What have you done?"
"Oh, so many things, which would you like to know about?" I snidely remarked. "Don't worry." Instantaneously I muttered a spell and a nova of black energy emitted from my body. They died and rose back up.
I commanded them to go fight for me, and that they did. "Emperor Zalphon Broodikus," Fenix smiled. "The Gray Council would like to be allied with you. Also, what'll happen of Darkfallen."
In my mind, I imagined the gateway to Darkfallen crumbling. The spirits of the dead deserved rest and they got it, eternally. "It's gone," I responded. "The dead deserve rest, and I intend to give it to them."
Samantha Draconis rushed in. Angellic wings sprouted from her back. "You've failed, Zalphon," she screamed. "I am the Arch-Angel. For your corruption, you'll die!"
The Head of the Angels charged at me, but I parried. Behind her were thirteen knights of the dragon. With a stare of awe-inspiring fear, they stabbed her. The Angel rushed into a portal and they kneeled, "Milord, we live to serve."
"Excellent," I stated. "The Dragonbane Knights. Now go off, hunt the remnants of your former Order."
"Yes, Master," the leader replied. "It shall be done."
"Zalphon, what do you intend to do?" Fenix asked.
"Bring a new era to the realms. The dragons will fall for their treachery and the angels will serve me or die. To say the very least, 'Mathoc as we know it, will be changed forever'..."
When I awoke, Fenix stood over me. My entire body burned, as if in my veins was acid. He stated, "Lord Vayris was a powerful lich, the Arch Lich. Take a look at yourself." Suddenly a magickal mirror appeared in front of me. My skin was rotting and pale, my hair was white and long.
"What happened to me?" I questioned. "Am I dead?"
"Well yes," He explained. "You're a lich. The Arch-Lich. When you drained his soul, you drained his power with it. You can take the Throne as God of Death, Unlife, and Necromancy. If you so choose, Milord."
"I have business in Everlight to settle, Fenix," I grumbled. "With your powerful magick, transform his body into a suit of God-Steel Platemail for me to wear and a God-Weave Cloak. The Prince of Everlight is going to become King."
"Yes, milord," the Lord of Manipulation said. Suddenly a suit of lightless, black armor appeared on me and a black cloak on my back. In my scabbard was my longsword, "Nightsinger," but in a different body. A god-steel blade.
Lord Fenix opened a portal and I appeared in Castle Everlight's Throne Room. "Who are you?" The Hyekal Tyrant asked. "I have no meetings with anyone today. And you wreak of death."
I pulled off my helmet, "It's me, Father. Zalphon."
The color drained from his face as I pulled my sword out of the scabbard. I put the tip to his throat and hissed, "You killed my mother, you sold me, you denied me my birthright. I am no Everlight, you're family is a clan of liars. I'm a Broodikus." I plunged the blade into his neck and smiled.
The guards came rushing in and screamed, "What have you done?"
"Oh, so many things, which would you like to know about?" I snidely remarked. "Don't worry." Instantaneously I muttered a spell and a nova of black energy emitted from my body. They died and rose back up.
I commanded them to go fight for me, and that they did. "Emperor Zalphon Broodikus," Fenix smiled. "The Gray Council would like to be allied with you. Also, what'll happen of Darkfallen."
In my mind, I imagined the gateway to Darkfallen crumbling. The spirits of the dead deserved rest and they got it, eternally. "It's gone," I responded. "The dead deserve rest, and I intend to give it to them."
Samantha Draconis rushed in. Angellic wings sprouted from her back. "You've failed, Zalphon," she screamed. "I am the Arch-Angel. For your corruption, you'll die!"
The Head of the Angels charged at me, but I parried. Behind her were thirteen knights of the dragon. With a stare of awe-inspiring fear, they stabbed her. The Angel rushed into a portal and they kneeled, "Milord, we live to serve."
"Excellent," I stated. "The Dragonbane Knights. Now go off, hunt the remnants of your former Order."
"Yes, Master," the leader replied. "It shall be done."
"Zalphon, what do you intend to do?" Fenix asked.
"Bring a new era to the realms. The dragons will fall for their treachery and the angels will serve me or die. To say the very least, 'Mathoc as we know it, will be changed forever'..."
Is this not in Tamriel anymore? HEY! Zalphon! Come home to Tamriel!!!! Great Write Zalphon!
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