04-24-2012, 08:56 AM
Prologue
The Dragon-Kin had ruled the lands for ages upon ages, living in tranquility with the creatures of old. They established a method of harmony for all to confide in and though they had the power, there was no need for war since before the second coming… though times began to change.
The New Age led by humans was finally at hand and it was unsafe for the infant heir to precede his venture as kin. Many of the dragon clan had split up and taken flight in search of new sanctuaries to call home; they held no desire to fight the newfound invaders and soon became lost in the lands. The old king and few of his guard refused to leave the ancient city and a great battle had been fought, though they were grossly outnumbered. Needless to say, the remaining of the dragon clan fell.
Darken had been oblivious of his true heritage, cast under a spell at birth confining him to the dreams and realities of a mere mortal. His father had taken the necessary precautions to keep him safe; to provide his soon dead kin a chance.
During the battle, Darken’s father had been mortally wounded and killed binding his soul to the ancient city he had sworn to protect. Many years had passed since the fall of Dargoth, and Darken was finally old enough to answer his real father’s beckoned call.
He had wandered the lands, confused of the voice echoing in his head until he had made way to a cavern that held familiarity, but was completely unknown to him.
After venturing what seemed to be days into this cavern, he stood in front of a fallen city. After a moments pause to witness the mayhem that had taken place, Darken had continued through the ruin seeking out the source of the voice.
He had found his way to the final stronghold of the ancient city, the only one that still stood through the battle of which he had no knowledge. Peering through the doorway, there stood the soul of a creature Darken had never seen. His father, one of many fallen Dragon-Kin, had spoken few words to him; words in the draconic language of which he did not understand. He pointed to an old wardrobe, raised his hand, removed Darken’s spell, and then vanished.
Chapter 1
The Birth of a King
One unruly winter has passed since the crucially unspoken inheritance of power the new king now wields. Left with nothing more than a book of riddles and an old stronghold from long ago, he was entirely alone. He wandered the halls of the stronghold for days with no desire for rest; pondering the life he had never known.
He had found himself staring at the old throne coveted by many of the dragon clan. It was tattered and stained with blood, there were also jewels missing from decorative locales; it was apparent the stronghold had been swiped of its rarities after battle. He sat on the throne; it was worn and unfamiliar to him. With passing thought, he began having visions of past days held in the once glorified room, seeing events and happenings he himself had never witnessed.
The air in the stronghold had grown stale; it had been closed up for quite some time before his arrival.
The inner chamber itself was the last structure of the fallen city that had remained in decent shape. There had been various indicators of death, marking what seemed like separate occasions of struggle; there had also been sign of large explosions that had removed the south wall without problem. Darken looked to the ground and clenched his fist, anger had filled his heart. He fell witness to emotions he had never known as a human, and realized what must be done.
There was no knowledge of any dragon-kin left alive in the lands; this gave Darken all the time he needed.
With each passing eve spent submerged in trances of meditation, an amount of draconic lore was revealed at his discretion. More had been clear to him; he knew he must pay revenge on the humans in this land, and to rebuild the ancient city once more.
Whilst hiding his true identity, Darken has decided to befriend a powerful adversary; he is known as John Falstaff. He is the head of the Vanguard, a guild who is to maintain Order in the renowned city of Trinsic. Humans and their pathetic attempts at democracy is an insult to the ways of old… What little John knows is Darken’s befriending will result in betrayal, and answers will soon come to the newly disgruntled king.
For days he lurks in the shadows, stalking the unaware that care of nothing more than to fill they’re empty coin purse. Here is where Darken will make his plans to recruit the worthy and rebuild his lost city at all costs.
To be continued...
The Dragon-Kin had ruled the lands for ages upon ages, living in tranquility with the creatures of old. They established a method of harmony for all to confide in and though they had the power, there was no need for war since before the second coming… though times began to change.
The New Age led by humans was finally at hand and it was unsafe for the infant heir to precede his venture as kin. Many of the dragon clan had split up and taken flight in search of new sanctuaries to call home; they held no desire to fight the newfound invaders and soon became lost in the lands. The old king and few of his guard refused to leave the ancient city and a great battle had been fought, though they were grossly outnumbered. Needless to say, the remaining of the dragon clan fell.
Darken had been oblivious of his true heritage, cast under a spell at birth confining him to the dreams and realities of a mere mortal. His father had taken the necessary precautions to keep him safe; to provide his soon dead kin a chance.
During the battle, Darken’s father had been mortally wounded and killed binding his soul to the ancient city he had sworn to protect. Many years had passed since the fall of Dargoth, and Darken was finally old enough to answer his real father’s beckoned call.
He had wandered the lands, confused of the voice echoing in his head until he had made way to a cavern that held familiarity, but was completely unknown to him.
After venturing what seemed to be days into this cavern, he stood in front of a fallen city. After a moments pause to witness the mayhem that had taken place, Darken had continued through the ruin seeking out the source of the voice.
He had found his way to the final stronghold of the ancient city, the only one that still stood through the battle of which he had no knowledge. Peering through the doorway, there stood the soul of a creature Darken had never seen. His father, one of many fallen Dragon-Kin, had spoken few words to him; words in the draconic language of which he did not understand. He pointed to an old wardrobe, raised his hand, removed Darken’s spell, and then vanished.
Chapter 1
The Birth of a King
One unruly winter has passed since the crucially unspoken inheritance of power the new king now wields. Left with nothing more than a book of riddles and an old stronghold from long ago, he was entirely alone. He wandered the halls of the stronghold for days with no desire for rest; pondering the life he had never known.
He had found himself staring at the old throne coveted by many of the dragon clan. It was tattered and stained with blood, there were also jewels missing from decorative locales; it was apparent the stronghold had been swiped of its rarities after battle. He sat on the throne; it was worn and unfamiliar to him. With passing thought, he began having visions of past days held in the once glorified room, seeing events and happenings he himself had never witnessed.
The air in the stronghold had grown stale; it had been closed up for quite some time before his arrival.
The inner chamber itself was the last structure of the fallen city that had remained in decent shape. There had been various indicators of death, marking what seemed like separate occasions of struggle; there had also been sign of large explosions that had removed the south wall without problem. Darken looked to the ground and clenched his fist, anger had filled his heart. He fell witness to emotions he had never known as a human, and realized what must be done.
There was no knowledge of any dragon-kin left alive in the lands; this gave Darken all the time he needed.
With each passing eve spent submerged in trances of meditation, an amount of draconic lore was revealed at his discretion. More had been clear to him; he knew he must pay revenge on the humans in this land, and to rebuild the ancient city once more.
Whilst hiding his true identity, Darken has decided to befriend a powerful adversary; he is known as John Falstaff. He is the head of the Vanguard, a guild who is to maintain Order in the renowned city of Trinsic. Humans and their pathetic attempts at democracy is an insult to the ways of old… What little John knows is Darken’s befriending will result in betrayal, and answers will soon come to the newly disgruntled king.
For days he lurks in the shadows, stalking the unaware that care of nothing more than to fill they’re empty coin purse. Here is where Darken will make his plans to recruit the worthy and rebuild his lost city at all costs.
To be continued...
