The Dragon's Tome, An Original Fantasy Story Options

[Zalphon]

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...

[Zalphon]

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...