My Purge

My Purge: The Travels
Chapter 1: Tales of Old

Consumed in shadow the creature of Mordeth stood before the High King of Men, draped in darkness, a black crown sitting upon it's head, it lifted it's dark blade and thrusted it toward the King of Men, cutting the King's arm as he fell to his knees, the creature stood over the King as if night had taken. He spoke to the King, his ill words fell upon his thoughts, 'Fall before me man.', but the King threw up his sword and returned, 'You were once a King of Men as I am. You were once a proud and strong king. But now no one remembers your true name, for it has been forgotten, even from your mind, for all who know you, know you as "The Dragon". Not as a man, nor a king.' But the fell creature felt no sorrow in his words and swung his sword, finishing the King of Men. The Dragon crept over to the King, still alive, the Dragon grabbed a small blue diamond from his pocket. Taking a few steps from the wounded king, the Dragon faced a black throne, on it, sat a black helm, the Helm of Mordeth. A browned haired man rushed into the throne room, finding the Dragon facing the black throne, and his dear friend laying on the floor, crushed and broken. Thaeron kneel before Faedus, 'My dear Faedus. Keep your strength my friend.' Faedus's grabbed Thaeron, bringing him closer to him, 'Thaeron.. take my spear.. finish it.' The King of Men faded into another realm, and a tear fell upon his cheek. Thaeron picked up his friend's spear and roared, the spear pierced the Dragon in the head, burning the creature, the Dragon ripped out the spear and wave of shadow consumed the throne room, knocking over Thaeron.
Thaeron stepped to the black throne, his eyes locked on the Helm of Mordeth, he draws his sword and crushes it over the helm, a dark force knocks over Thaeron and shatters his sword. Thaeron awed of the power of the helm, gathers his thoughts and takes three diamonds, one of blue, one of purple, and one of white. Thaeron traveled many months, arriving in the ancient elven city of Edsel, there Thaeron met with his dear friend King Ileldur, Elven King of the Mira(which were Elves in the East), Ileldur hugged his old friend, and brought him into another room, 'Thaeron my friend. What have you come to me for, in these joyest times, as I hear evil has been defeated!' Thaeron responded quickly, 'Indeed these are joyest times. But I am here to give you these...' Handing over the white diamond and the purple diamond, Ileldur was overwhelmed, 'The Amulet of the Great Ones(Angels), and the Amulet of the Pure Ones(Elves), oh how did you Thaeron?' With a smile, Thaeron gave his friend a nod and left into the world... wherever it would take him. And so, the elder days were gone, forgotten from all thoughts, days of peace had taken over and the days went on, long and well.
In the mist of the graceful and wondrous years that went by, the day of days arrived, the seventeenth birthday of Eomir, Son of Eodim. Gatherings of all in the village of Ren, neighbors, relatives, friends, distance friends, friends of all kind. Few hours before the party, on the long road came an elderly chap, he had a long grey cloak, a pointy hat, a gold staff, and a shield. He came slowly and humbly down the road, until reaching a small house, it's chimney roared black smoke, the old man knocked on the door and a yell from within came, 'I TOLD YOU! ANY QUESTIONS FOR THE PARTY! GO ASK TORBIN!' As stubborn as he is, the old man knocked again, another yell came and another elderly man opened the door, 'Why you! Oh.. Gaerwn, You came! Well come in my dear Gaerwn!' The wizard stepped in slowly, 'Thaeron you old fool. I would not miss it for the world.' The two of them sat down inside, Thaeron set down two mugs full of ale, and both of them sparked a pipe, Thaeron chuckled and look out to the sky, 'The finest weed in all the land... I bet you that.' Gaerwn laughed and the day went on, never a more finer day.

Consumed in shadow the creature of Mordeth stood before the High King of Men, draped in darkness, a black crown sitting upon it's (this should be its, not it's.) head, it lifted it's (same- its) dark blade and thrusted it toward the King of Men, cutting the King's arm as he fell to his knees, the creature stood over the King as if night had taken. (cut last sentence into two sentences, it will flow better) He spoke to the King, his ill words fell upon his thoughts, 'Fall before me man.', (cut this part into two sentences, also) but the King threw up his sword and returned, 'You were once a King of Men as I am. You were once a proud and strong king.'

hey! this is pretty good!

other than a few grammatical errors like stated above, it was great! one tip i have is to ask someone to read your story out loud to you. some of your sentence fluency is off
just a tad.

*tay*

Hullo KS. Welcome to the literary side of YWS. ^_^

As for the piece itself, oy, I'm rather bewildered. Each paragraph seems to stand nearly on its own, but as 'tis disconnected from the others, it stands unsteady.

It appears as if you've got a rather Tolkien-esque background -- definitely Tolkien in the style of the names. But Tolkien managed his world by having roots that reached back to Devil knows when, da?

This is too brief for roots; but much too verbose for brevity or foreshadowing.

Is it a beginning of a story? Who or what is Mordeth? Oy, it does sound painfully like "Morgoth" from The Silmarillion, you know. ^_^

Anyhow, as to the exposition itself, you've got an archaic flourish. ^_^ It can work brilliantly depending, for it can set a tone and atmosphere without the added effort of detail at times. It is your voice; it can be.

The difficulty here is that you begin in a crinkled sort of run-on.

Consumed in shadow the creature of Mordeth stood before the High King of Men, draped in darkness, a black crown sitting upon it's [ its not it's ] head, [FULLSTOP] It lifted its dark blade and thrusted it toward the King of Men, cutting the King's arm as he fell to his knees, the creature stood over the King as if night had taken[ taken what? ]

.

Oy, that tidies it somewhat. But on the subject of archaic narrative: it needs to be precise as well as old. Here it seems spattered, more of an afterthought, with verb-tenses mixed up (as in "thrusted"); as in the final bit where night had taken...what? I love the singsong slight that an older english can add to a story. If cleared up, this might be fun simply for the style. ^_^

But as it is, the paragraphs are disconnected from each other in tone and subject; the language is a bit mixed up; and the description within gives the vaguest of visuals to connect reader to character. Dark blades. Consuming shadow.

Ach, those are stock words! pull them out of a hat. I'm sure your head, and your eye, has a lot more imagination than a hat. ^_^ Even though fairy tales and old epics have a certain set form, they needn't be cut-outs, cookie-cutter and cliche.

I'd love to see this rewritten, expanded and tightened in its own voice, with its own story - owned, you know. As it is, each paragraph nearly seems its own story; and it all skims Tolkien like a stone skipped on a pond.


If you've questions, PM me. ^_^




IMP

Thank you guys for the tips. I will work on it.

Consumed in shadow the creature of Mordeth stood before the High King of Men, draped in darkness,(period) a black crown sitting upon it's head, it lifted it's dark blade and thrusted it toward the King of Men, cutting the King's arm as he fell to his knees, the creature stood over the King as if night had taken. He spoke to the King, his ill words fell upon his thoughts, 'Fall before me man.', but the King threw up his sword and returned, 'You were once a King of Men as I am.
Too many runons typically you only need one comma per sentence max (unless your talking about something)
'Thaeron my friend. What have you come to me for, in these joyest times, as I hear evil has been defeated!' Thaeron responded quickly, 'Indeed these are joyest times. But I am here to give you these...'
Use "" Not '' when someone in your book goes to talk.
"I told you to leave!" he said.
'I TOLD YOU! ANY QUESTIONS FOR THE PARTY! GO ASK TORBIN!' As stubborn as he is, the old man knocked again, another
Don't use caps. If you ever want to emphasis on something use italics. explanation marks usually do the trick in making things serious.

I Love your story. I like anything off the basis of LOTR I'm into. The names were amazing. how did you get them? I could really image the throne and stuff really impressed man!

I made up most of the names, others I had help with, but I do realize Mordeth is close to Morgoth, but I only realized that after I finished it. And thank you!

(( Revised beginning. I went with my second version of the beginning of my book. I hope you like this one! ))

My Purge: The Travels
Chapter 1: Tales of the Elders

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 creations called "angels" took refuge in the eternal lands of Evermoure. Draka and his abominations called "demons" crawled from the void, bound to it's will. A great battle ensued, 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, 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.
A dark chant began to whisper from the black lands, it was great, and terrifying...

"For decades, 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. Supressing life, crushing hope and instilling fear in the hearts and minds of a entire races. 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 favour 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, the pathetic slave become the glorious master."

"Death must be brought to those who brought it to us for millenia, for 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 favour, 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 Eldars that the races of Men and Elves came into the world in the time of the shadow of Mordeth, and they fell swiftly under his dominion; for he sent his emissaries among them, and they listened to his dark and cunning words, and they worshiped the darkness and yet feared it. But there were some that turned from evil and left the lands of shadow. While the others were left to burn under the malice and might of Mordeth.

Hi PenNPaper here to review!
There were not much mistakes I spotted, but please start the dialogue with a new paragraph, it is less confusing that way.
You did not really describe the characters much, the actions, feelings, and thoughts were also extremely minor. Take some time to do that and you will find that your story will be better, and also more captivating and interesting.
Good luck and keep writing!

That was more of a brief introduction of sorts.

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 the Elders (( Revised ))

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 creations called "angels" took refuge in the eternal lands of Evermoure. Draka and his abominations called "demons" crawled from the void, bound to it's will. A great battle ensued, 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, 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.
A dark chant began to whisper from the black lands, it was great, and terrifying...

"For decades, 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. Supressing life, crushing hope and instilling fear in the hearts and minds of a entire races. 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 favour 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, the pathetic slave become the glorious master."

"Death must be brought to those who brought it to us for millenia, for 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 favour, 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 Eldars that the races of Men and Elves came into the world in the time of the shadow of Mordeth, and they fell swiftly under his dominion; for he sent his emissaries among them, and they listened to his dark and cunning words, and they worshiped the darkness and yet feared it. But there were some that turned from evil and left the lands of shadow. While the others were left to burn under the malice and might of Mordeth.

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 worlds last hope, the last beacon of light. If Gorgonia fell, the world would be lost, forever consumed and tangled in shadow like a vine wrapped around a tree. The Dragon, an ancient demon of the underworld, the black lieutenant of Mordeth sat upon a 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 but before it could open its wretched mouth, the Dragon lifted its hand, clad in black armor, it pointed at Gorgonia, 'Send all legions. Do not stop the attack. No one lives...' 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, two 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 wicked looking 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 as dozens more of the burning spheres rain down upon their wall and into the section 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 lowered. 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. 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 was heard 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, 'Go back to your Master! Tell him he has failed! The bloodline does not end with me!' 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! Die now 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, as the Kings sword shattered into the thin air. 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 dragon 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 to fire downward. 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 as a spray of his blood paints across the soldiers standing behind him. He was dead before he hit the floor as his armor gave a dull thud upon hitting the stone floor. Gorgonia had fallen...

(( I complete revised the beggining of my story. I just went with this. Hope you like it! I want lots of comments and some reviews! ))

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 the Elders (( Revised ))

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 creations called "angels" took refuge in the eternal lands of Evermoure. Draka and his abominations called "demons" crawled from the void, bound to it's will. A great battle ensued, 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, 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.
A dark chant began to whisper from the black lands, it was great, and terrifying...

"For decades, 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. Supressing life, crushing hope and instilling fear in the hearts and minds of a entire races. 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 favour 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, the pathetic slave become the glorious master."

"Death must be brought to those who brought it to us for millenia, for 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 favour, 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 Eldars that the races of Men and Elves came into the world in the time of the shadow of Mordeth, and they fell swiftly under his dominion; for he sent his emissaries among them, and they listened to his dark and cunning words, and they worshiped the darkness and yet feared it. But there were some that turned from evil and left the lands of shadow. While the others were left to burn under the malice and might of Mordeth.

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 worlds last hope, the last beacon of light. If Gorgonia fell, the world would be lost, forever consumed and tangled in shadow like a vine wrapped around a tree. The Dragon, an ancient demon of the underworld, the black lieutenant of Mordeth sat upon a 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 but before it could open its wretched mouth, the Dragon lifted its hand, clad in black armor, it pointed at Gorgonia, 'Send all legions. Do not stop the attack. No one lives...' 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, two 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 wicked looking 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 as dozens more of the burning spheres rain down upon their wall and into the section 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 lowered. 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, 'Go back to your Master! Tell him he has failed! The bloodline does not end with me!' 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! Die now 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, as the Kings sword shattered into the thin air. 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 to fire downward. 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 as a spray of his blood paints across the soldiers standing behind him. 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 black pet spread its great and 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 black light thrust before the Dragon and encircled the black throne, consuming in a fog. 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 sword 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 mail! I said leave it on the step!' The door slid open and another elderly man answered, 'Yes, yes what is it? Oh!

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 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 sit down, Thaeron grabs to 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.'