The Travels - The First Tale of My Purge
By. K.S. Anderson
Inspired by S.E. Anderson
'Thanks, this is truly your legacy, Dad....'
'The Epic Journey begins, for Shadow shall Rise once more, and the Light shall dim...'
A special thanks to Alex McCord & Matthew Bartley.
Chapter 1: Tales of Old
Eons Ago, before any man or elf drew breath, before any other being dragged itself into existence and glimpsed the world around them... a great being consumed all existence. From this entity, two creatures were spawned, Ara the Embodiment of Good and Draka the Embodiment of Evil. Billions of creatures were spawned from the two, their creations took shape and conquered the lifeless rocks surrounding them, spreading like a disease unchecked throughout the universe. Ara and his glorious creations called "angels" took refuge in the eternal lands of Evermoure. Draka and his devilish abominations called "demons" crawled from the void, bound to it's will. A great battle ensued for many decades before the forces of good triumphed over the legions of evil; and the shadow hindered before the light. Times of adventure and battle came to an end, and ages past, times became more peaceful and long, while time forgot the ancient tales of quests, journeys, and excitement faded from all thought. Until a time came where dark portents wax nigh and the creations of Draka began to have a stranglehold across the entire world as they once did in ancient times. The darkness shall have it's dominion in the world. All shall fear the harbingers of the apocalypse. It called and they answered.
A dark chant began to whisper from the black lands, it was great...and...terrifying.
"For many ages We have stood by as lesser creatures dominate the world around us, an incubus has watched over the dreams of our people for an age. Suppressing our life, crushing our hope and instilling fear in the hearts and minds of our people. We have been cursed with failure, and weakness. We have had to hide in the caves of beast, scrounge the remnants of war and pick the corpses of dying kingdoms clean of life. For all our intelligence and all we could create, a lack of simply brute strength and lust for war doomed us all to an existence of slavery and death. But for no longer. We have found our favor with the new gods, they came to us when we were at our weakest and shall make us strong! Upon that fateful day, the failure's of my ancestors were forgotten and a new creature burst forth from the pitiful ashes of my people. We had power. We have strength. Our chains are broken... and the pathetic slave become the glorious master."
"Death must be brought to those who spit in the faces of the great gods! A black storm descends upon the world. Kings and their false idols break before me, cower at my feet. Weakness cannot be tolerated. The gods wish to purge the world of it's impurity, it's cowardice. The pitiful and unworthy grow like weeds and taint the world with their very existence, they are a stain upon life itself. The gods demand that the natural order of life be undertaken. We were strong enough to find their favor, and those who thought themselves untouchable now must succumb to will of the strong. The world will cripple and die from our wrath. For we Serve only the Satanis."
An limitless power beckons, calling forth a dark apocalypse unto the world. It asks little of us. It wishes only that we cleanse impurity. A doctrine of power. In return we had what was could of been dreamed of, many called me a heretic, a madman. A liar... I bear the truth. I bear the banner of the black legion. I bring with me salvation or extermination. The light-less night shall never end. Dead stars will spread before us like islands that slumber on the ocean. The creatures that once lurked in the shadow shall rise out to show their true form and shall feed upon the minds of the innocent... forever. It is said by the Elders that the races of Men and Elves came into the world in the time of Dragul, and they fell swiftly under his black might; for he sent his legions to destroy all who appose his reign, and some listened to his dark and cunning words, and they worshiped the darkness and yet feared it. While the others burn under the malice and might of the legions of black.
The War of the Amulets: A great war that has lasted for centuries. The forces of evil turned the tide of the war. The fight had reached the very white gates of Gorgonia. The entire world had seem lost. An ill wind took to the air, the shadow crept into every heart and thought of men, Gorgonia was the last hope, the last beacon of light. If Gorgonia fell the world would be lost, forever consumed and tangled in shadow like a shoelace knotted to tightly. The Dragon, an ancient demon of the underworld, the black lieutenant of Mordeth sat upon a large and black wyrm, draped in black robes it carried a large sword and bore a black helm. Its gaze was heavy and was locked on Gorgonia, ready to break the will of men. An orc approached the Dragon, his skin darker, his eyes thirst for blood, a true orc of war, but before it could open its wretched mouth, the Dragon lifted its hand, clad in black armor it pointed at Gorgonia, 'Let fire and shadow fall upon them, no mercy tonight.' Skûm the Orc Lord ascends the hillside to Gorgonia, his legions of orcs bellow a cheer in his honor.
A breeze blows across the hilltop and his helm traces in the wind, his cloak trailing towards Gorgonia. Now was his chance to show his prowess to the Dark Master with the hope of joining their ranks. His wicked looking spear in his hands, he turns his spear down and stabs it into the ground and removes his helm. His cold stare focused on Galioth, the White Gate of Gorgonia, three miles ahead of them. Skûm had led legions of orcs in battles that were claimed impossible and he had brought victory from defeat. Now was his chance to lead the Black Legions of Mordeth against the last bastion of the High King. Victory here would win the war... he could not fail.
The skies grew black as if a storm was brewing, the "Apocalypse" some called it. Skûm fixed his gaze toward Gorgonia, his strong hand grasping his wicked black spear, he thrust the spear into the air, the signal of war, flags are raised and waved in the air, flags bearing the symbol of Mordeth, the Black Dragon. The legions of Mordeth marched forward as their artillery was prepped. When the catapults were loaded and aimed, Skûm laughed and raised his fist into the air. The large devices swung, hurling massive stones and burning spheres through the sky, the legions march into the city gates and watched in their sinister armor as the stones slammed into the city gates, men screamed as stones fell around them, other rocks smash against the wall cracking the White Gate of Gorgonia, the thick white walls protecting the city were now gone. Galioth was destroyed. More and more fiery spheres sail towards the top of the wall, where Gorgonia's archers sat ready to fire upon the evil army marching at them. One burning ball strikes the wall and shatters, crushing the group of the archers. Others run and scream in agony as they burn to death, dozens more of the burning spheres rain down upon their wall and into the heart of the city, engulfing buildings and people in fire and choking smoke.
All the while the legions of orcs march closer to the city gates to the two thousand man army awaiting at the entrance to the city as the bridge is raised and the massive gates are closed. The orcs of Mordeth enter the range of the Archers, the remaining defenders send desperate volleys down upon them. Many of the arrows simple break and bounce off their heavy armor but a few here and there score flesh and drop their victims. The High King of Gorgonia, King Folulm gathered his greatest men, atop of his white horse he rode through the city, trying to flee to his stronghold. But he was halted, a mighty roar of a dragon and a cloud of shadow towered over him.
The Dragon landed his great beast in front of the king, cutting his escape short, the king drew his sword and yelled, 'You have failed great demon! The bloodline does not end with me! You cannot succeed in this battle!' The Dragon drew up his heavy sword, and bellowed back at the king, 'Do you not see it? The Fall of Man has begun... and it will end with you! Fall before me man!'. Waves of shadow, collecting and tearing from the very air hindered from all around to his blade. The King of Men lowered his sword before his adversary. Silence crept around all, and the Dragon roared, letting go a dark energy and shattering the kings sword. He flew back from his horse and his men departed at the sight, the Dragon gave a low growl, 'Feed on him...' The King fell helplessly before the shadow, and the black wyrm sank its teeth into the king and tossed him aside.
The legions of orcs continue to march forward, the hail of arrows ceases from them coming to close to their own troops. An orc fires an arrow from a great distance and catches the bridge keeper in the neck, releasing the bridge and orcs pile in, swinging like madmen. One of the last captains of Gorgonia leading his garrison against the legions of orcs catches a flash of movement coming toward him, it was a spear sailing straight to him. Before he could react to defend himself the heavy weapon slams into his breastplate punching through his blessed armor. The staff of the spear slammed clean through his heart and penetrating the armor on his back. The impact of the heavy spear tosses him off his horse and to the floor. He was dead before he hit the floor as his armor gave a dull thud upon hitting the stone floor. Gorgonia had fallen... and the world was to be burned.
Skûm the Orc Lord handed over a small blue diamond to The Dragon. It sat in his black hand and the light that had once shine within it... dimmed. Snapping his whip, his great black pet spread its long wings, flying away from the white city and toward the black mountain of Mordeth, Amon Dauthmog. Which was spewing flames and great rocks of fire, and smoke from it covered the skies in complete blackness. The Dragon stepped from his pet and crept inside the mountain. A cavern within the great mountain held a black throne and on it, the Helm of Mordeth.
The Dragon stood before the black throne of his great master, kneeling before it he set the blue diamond onto the throne and stepped from it. A neon green light thrust before the Dragon and encircled the black throne. The Dragon chanted a devious speech, spoken only from the mouths of demons, 'Emoc htrof ym retsaam! Drol fo eht dlrow! Esir ecno erom!' Come forth my master! Lord of the world! Rise once more! Spoke the Dragon, raising his sword in the air, a man yelled from behind him, 'Face me demon! For this is your end!' The Dragon lowered his sword and faced the man, he roared and swung his heavy blade at the man, missing by a hair the Dragon swung again and again.
The man threw up his sword in defense but it was no match for the might of the Dragon. In a last offense the man thrust his sword into the helm of the Dragon and the creature shrieked in horror, letting go of the sword, the Dragon torn the blade from his helm and a burst of darkness came from within the armor, ending the mighty servant of Mordeth. The man stumbled toward the black throne and took three diamonds from it... a blue one, a white one, and a purple one. Grabbing his sword and placing each diamond in his pocket, he set off in another quest.
The Elven Kingdom of Edsel, realm of the Mira(Elves of the East). Surrounded with a wall of mountains draped in white and clear blue skies for miles. Eagles flew throughout the skies above Edsel and a great healthy forest sitting behind and in front of the kingdom. A wondrous and stunning realm of pureness and glory. A man rode in on a brown horse wrapped in a green cloak and bore a sword and a shield. Ileldur the King of the Mira, Elven Lord of Edsel and a great friend of men. The stranger stepped from his steed and lowered his hood, revealing himself to be a friend of the elves.
Ileldur gave a great smiled and hugged the man, 'Thaeron have you come to tell me how you defeated the Dragon?' The Elven King chuckled and welcomed his friend in for some wine. Thaeron had no content on staying and set down two diamonds, one of white and one of purple. Still in awe the elven lord stared deep into the diamonds, as if he could see within them. He faced Thaeron and smiled, 'The Amulet of the Angels(white diamond), and the Amulets of the Elves(purple diamond). How did you?' Thaeron chuckled and before he could leave Ileldur placed his hand on him, 'I see that the Amulet of Men has been lost. I am sorry.' Thaeron got back on his horse and gave a nod, riding away he placed his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small diamond, a blue one.
So the days went on longer and more peaceful then ever. Time forgot the days of battle and adventure and everyday seemed more alike the other... until one day, an elderly chap road in on a horse, he had a long cloak and a pointy hat. He bore a staff, a shield, and a sword. He stopped by an old wooden house, in good shape and a well cut grass. The old man stepped from his horse and went up to the door, he knocked ever so softly. Nothing was heard but birds chirping in the morning sky. The old chap took his staff and slammed it against the door and a yell came from inside, 'It better not be the mail! I said leave it on the step!' The door slid open and another elderly man answered, he was dressed in red cloak with an symbol of a sword through a circle pinned near his neck, he had long grey hair and a grey gotee, 'Yes, yes what is it? Oh! Oh Gaerwn! How are you my dear Gaerwn!' Welcoming him in Gaerwn smiled, 'Thaeron it would seem age has caught up with you. Oh how it has been long my friend.' Both of them go into the kitchen and sat down, Thaeron grabbed two mugs filled with ale and both of the old men spark their pipes, Gaerwn sparking a long wooden pipe and Thaeron sparking his own smaller size pipe.
Conversation picked up over time, both mugs of ale were empty and Thaeron packed both pipes to the top, 'Gaerwn I tell you this is the finest weed in all the land.... my old friend. You have yet to tell me why you came for this wondrous visit.' Gaerwn chuckled as he exhaled smoke from the pipe, 'Thaeron I am afraid my visit in not as wondrous as you think. Evil has risen once more. Mordeth has regained much power in the shadows... under our very eyes.' Thaeron choked on his pipe and gasped, 'What? How can that be? I finished it decades ago!' Gaerwn responded quickly and quietly, 'He found a new disciple. One to continue his work. Morkresh... a fallen angel.' Thaeron began to pace and ceased, he slowly reached in his pocket and pulled out a small blue diamond. 'Gaerwn. This is why you came? You need the Amulet of Men.' Gaerwn stood up and smiled, 'I knew you kept it! Thaeron I need to take it to Edsel and there we shall call a council and decide how to go about this.' But then, Eomir the grandson of Thaeron stepped through the door in a brown cloak, along with his uncle Torbin, who was draped in a knights uniform. 'Grandfather?' spoke Eomir, and Thaeron smiled, he faced Gaerwn and with a chuckle, 'Eomir and Torbin shall accompany me to Edsel.'
