Okay, heres the first chapter of what I have. Give me any suggestions or changes that MUST be made. Keep in mind, there will be major similarities to Professor Tolkien. Chapter 1: Bane of the King The tale that is to be told is from the time long since forgotten. When the age of man was still young and our world was still new. In the age when Dragons roamed the skies, dwarves mined in the mountains, and magic was in its prime. Not some poor parlor tricks or little illusions, not some card trick or disappearing tissues either. This was the age when true magic roamed the lands, magic of good and evil. This was the age when creatures roamed freely in the world with the likes of which no man would imagine, some you may recognize by heart. Such as the elf, the dwarf and the troll, others are that of the most bizarre kind. But we will meet each one of those strange beings as we continue through our story, so patience is key. Our story truly begins in the ancient kingdom of Siradel. Capital of the west of the great lands known as Aulderia. This large kingdom was the home to the great king Abraham Malador. Abraham came from a long line of the royal Malador name. Like many before him, he was a very proud man; he stood tall five feet high. He had a brown beard and carried with him the heart of a lion. Metaphorically of course, have you ever seen a real king who carried with him an actual lion’s heart? Believe me, it’s not a splendid sight. The king was compassionate for his people and always thought of them before himself. Abraham was harsh on many occasions but only to people who deserved it the most. Those who break the law, or threaten his people, no matter the actions towards those willing to act in them he was always fair, for this many of the people cared deeply for their king instead of fearing him and always supported him throughout his rule. He was never seen without the silver crown around his head, nor was he ever seen without his trusted sword at his side. The sword which his family called Alastrin if I do recall was not forged by human hands. But who am I to lie? For I know it was not forged by human hands. Now I believe would be the best time to explain the origin of this great blade and those few who perhaps just might have a mighty hand on aiding our hero. I’m certain that most of you are already thinking, “But we don’t know who the hero is, is it the king, his dog, a servant to the king? Please explain!” All will be explained in good time I promise you that, but even a weapon has a story to be told on how and by whom it was made by. As I have already mentioned, Abrham came from a great line in his name. Each member of the Malador family ruled Siradel with honor and wisdom. But even they were not free from corruption or madness, and the swords were a symbol of the madness that plagued the Malador family centuries before Abraham’s time. You see, Alastrin was one of two swords created for the Malador family. It begins in the first age of Siradel, when the kingdom was still being built brick by brick, and tower by tower as the Malador family began to grow in power. Knowing that there will be many deals of threat towards the kingdom, especially from those of the non-human races, the first of the long line of the Malador family, King Agioro and his queen Lyna, traveled far in the heart of the mountains to the hidden kingdom of Kuthira to seek the aid of the young wizard who went by the name of Narakor. Narakor was the leader in an order of four different wizards called Qaruthire. Each individual wizard more powerful than the last wore a different set of robes in four different colors, the colors of red, orange, yellow and white. What made them unique was that they were all a different set of wizard; with the staffs they carried resembling a part of their order’s symbol. Narakor took the role of a wizard, one who studied the old days of magic; he was honest, and always true to his word. He believed that Knowledge and courage was the true power. His staff resembled that of a white torch which he named Ganbron. The red Wiccan Welina, used her power only to heal that of others. She would only use her true magic for her attack when it is the last and only resort. She carries the staff with a rose bud on the top, in memory of her mother. She named the staff Naruquir. Ovaldo the yellow sage was a humble man, but his wisdom came third of that of the orange druid and Narakor himself. He was the peacemaker of the wizards, using logic and reason when confronted by those with none. His staff was that of two eagle wings which would be called Malir Rumas. The final wizard whom was previously mention was Girille the orange druid. She would be what you or I would call Mother Nature. The gentlest of the wizards, caring and loved by the animals and plants. She is as old as Narakor who was just as wise and powerful. She is able to create new life from the soil and could even change into any animal she chose. Such as a bear, a fox, a wolf, a hawk, and even the great mountain lion. Her staff resembled that of an orange leaf, which she then named Kuiia raye. Narakor has been a long friend of the Malador family and his wisdom and guidance was always taken from the king. The king came to Kuthira and was greeted by his old friend, there they had a feast, drank beer, wine anything they could get their hands on, and had a merry gathering. After it was over, Agioro spoke to the white wizard and begged him to create a sword that would keep all evil at bay, a sword that would make all men tremble. Narakor was not likely to let a man beg and plead especially his allies. However he told Agioro that such a blade could lead to disaster and he must swear to use the sword only for the greater good. Agioro dropped down on his knees, took his sword in hand and swore to the wizard to do just that. Narakor smiled as he saw the commitment in the man’s eyes and told the king to rise. He told Agiro that the sword will take time to complete. The king understood and rode back to Siradel leaving Narakor with the aid of the three wizards to begin forging the sword. The material of the blade was that of dwarven steel and enchanted by elven magic supervised and mixed by Ovaldo’s own magic as well. Formed by the fires of seven ancient dragons, in the warm glow of the sun, left in the icy mountains for nine moons, to be guarded and blessed by Girille herself. After the blade was done, she took it to the center of the forest and in the enchanted river of Selivie; she took her own hands and began to wash the ice away. After the sword was freed from the ice and snow leaving nothing for Girille but cuts and scars upon her fragile hands, she set the blade into the center of the river; there the powers that dwell within were absorbed by the sword. Once the sword was complete, Narakor came to the kingdom with the sword in a scabbard made by his own hands, by blood, magic, and snow. He presented the great sword to the king, but Narakor once again warned the king that if he was not careful the power of the sword would consume and destroy master. As time grew Narakor’s fears became reality. When the first battle of Siradel had been won. Agioro became unsatisfied with the blade and asked Narakor and the three to forge a much more powerful sword. Narakor told him that such a blade would lead to even greater misfortune. He and the Girille began to see that the hunger for power was taking effect in a result of misuse of the first blade. No matter how much they told him it will not be done and despite protests from his wife and son, the king would have nothing of it. So for many nights the wizards did not sleep, they did not eat, and they surely did not bathe. They were determined to get their task done. The purpose and burden of completing the great sword. Bringing the same dragons to form the blade, going through all the same pained labor as before, and I will say that much more blood was lost from Girille and Narakor. However they both have decided that the king will not be satisfied for two of the same blades. So they took it upon themselves to add some great power of their own. Welina took pure venom of a Basilisk to be fused with the fires of the dragons, Ovalo then left the sword to sit in the light of a full moon when the moon was at its most powerful. When the full moon finally struck, Narakor and Girille casted a powerful spell of invincibility to be sure the sword would be become an unstoppable force, never to grow dull and never to be destroyed by mortal hands. The final task to be done was to take the blade and have it fused with the soul of a live Phoenix, willing to become one with the great blade. The spirit of the phoenix still residing in the sword can reveal you visions of the future, or even show you your deepest desires as could share secrets from the tales of old. The wizards now having grown starved, filthy and ready to fall upon one another began to suspect that this was an impossible task for even themselves to accomplish. Until they at long last finished the blade which they named the Phoenix. Now impatient, the king came to Kuthira demanding for his blade. But Narakor then recieved a dark vision from the blade. A vision of the consequences of what will occur if the blade is given to the king, the anarchy that will fall upon Siradel. Narakor then took the blade and went off to destroy it for he knew that the only thing that could destroy the blade were the ones that created it. Together with the three wizards, he attempted to cast a powerful spell of destruction. But they were interrupted by Agioro who demanded his blade. Narakor denied and once again tried to destroy it. But with hardly any strength left, he and the other wizards were unable to succeed. Agioro took the blade from Narakor and declared it his greatest gift. Twenty years have passed since then and that gift would later become the greatest plague Siradel has ever known. The people now lived in fear of their once proud and noble king. The man that once was has seized to exist, consumed by a power hungry mad man cursing the man and slowly killing his kingdom. Hearing what fate has become of the kingdom from Rogin the eagle, Narakor and the other wizards rode to Siradel to reclaim and destroy the blade. Once they entered, they could only cringe in disgust when they began to witness their greatest mistake taking its toll on Siradel’s people. There were dead plants growing on the walls of houses, the gardens had nothing blooming in them for the soil was dry, the river was black of such filth I shall not describe, the men were turning on one another, thieves were roaming the streets. Women were resorting to slaving themselves; the children now hungry and covered from head to toe with dirt. The sight of the monstrosity they have created was too much for the wizards to bear. Ovaldo’s heart was filled with such agony he could not help but look down in his shame, Welina began to burst in tears when a small girl not even old enough to tie the ribbons in her hair came to her with sad eyes and cried “Please ma’am, help us, we’re hungry, tired, and dying. Mommy never comes home and Daddy is not the man he was. He killed my uncle and stole whatever money he had. Please help us.” Girille could not even look at the sight of blood from a poor man being beaten to death. The pain of those who have lost everything and the sorrow that filled the air was too much for her to withstand. She wanted to turn away but she was not able to, for the smell of death was surrounding her and she knew that she was one of the few responsible of causing such a catastrophe. Narakor was furious of the king’s actions. He knew exactly what would happen and yet he was foolish to create the cursed sword. The kingdom of which the Maladors struggled to create all began to fall into ruin and death, all because of the power of an overgrown knife. Looking back at the other wizards, he snapped them back into the reality of their situation and all at once they knew what had to be done. They entered the castle easily and saw the most despicable sight. They found the king in his throne room, sitting in a corner with the sword in his grasp muttering to himself. His hair was long, white, and dirt infested, his eyes were darkened by near black rings, and each of his pupils were that of dark spheres covering nearly his entire eyeball. His mouth has become a waist heap of gray slobber, horrid breath and rotted teeth. Fingernails and toenails were long and yellow, he smelt of dragons breath, and troll dung, with a hint of giant’s toejam, sprinkled with the taste of goblin scabs and the stench of rotting flesh of a cow carcass gently placed on top of this pile of this filth. Narakor approached the king and demanded the sword to be returned to him. But Agioro, now having become more animal than man, only screamed in his face and tried to run away with the sword in his hands. He ran towards the door like a mad dog running, but Welina and Girille blocked the door and he stopped dead in his tracks. Slobber began to run from his mouth as he spoke in such a broken language that he might as well have been a member of another race. Ovaldo slowly snuck behind the king as the creature only eyed the two other wizards. Using his staff, he knocked the sword out of Agioro’s hand as Agioro yelled in displeasure and attacked Ovaldo. He leapt in the air on top of Ovaldo’s back, wrapped his hands on the sage’s neck and began to squeeze the life out of the yellow sage trying so hard to remove the mad king. Narakor knocked the king off with his staff and pinned him to the ground. Placing his hand on the kings forehead, he began to cast a spell to help the king regain his senses, the spell if I do recall was said like this “Bienturra dinna na Rodano Lettu tono fi Brind” As Narakor chanted again and again, He was not able to help the king. He gathered the other wizards and together they chanted the words and the king screamed in pain. Until finally the king they knew had returned. He broke down in tears and into to Narakor’s arms begging him for forgiveness. The queen and his oldest son Sampson came in the throne room with a handful of guards. Lynna burst into tears of joy as she ran to her now restored king. Sampson approached his father and begged him to return Phoenix to the wizards. Agioro, now seeing that his thirst for power had gotten the best of him once and witnessed the horror of what his kingdom has become. He agreed to let the wizards take the sword. He took the blade, sheathed it for the final time and gave it to Narakor claiming that he does not wish to see the cursed sword again for as long as he shall live. It is unknown whether the wizards actually destroyed the sword. But no living person in Siradel would be foolish enough to even think of what became of the accursed sword Phoenix and decided to leave it as a myth. That is not to say that the horrid tales do not cease to exist. Though they wish to forget the blade, they will carry the terrors what it can unleash upon the world. To this day that sword will only be known as Agioro’s Bane, and forgetting the sword was even created was indeed for the best. For as explained the blade was far too powerful for any man to wield. This near unlimited power of this great blade could take the most kindhearted and honest man and drive him to the brink of insanity and leading to the path of greed. Since then the only blade was Alastrin which rightfully belonged to the Malador family. Abraham knew about the history of both blades and he like many other people in Siradel choose not to speak of Agioro’s Bane. But even if he did want to find this blade, it would be a wrong deed he would never be able to correct. Abraham knew all the power of Agiro’s Bane would once more bring the kingdom to ruin and decay if it was found again. But now, his thoughts were not on such power of an overgrown knife that may nor may not still exist, his thoughts were focused on something involving the woman he loves and another he is sure he will grow to love.
Posted on: Fri, 23 Jan 2015 22:10:57 +0000
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