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Story 1

Story 1

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Published by Crimson12100
This is the story ive been working on for a while. im not finished so any comments on how to make it better are appreciated.
This is the story ive been working on for a while. im not finished so any comments on how to make it better are appreciated.

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Published by: Crimson12100 on Feb 10, 2008
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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Prologue: Searching for an Answer 
His evil had spread throughout the continent of Farlonia. He was pleased, yes,very pleased at the work he had accomplished. He relaxed comfortably on his throne.The magnificent throne was carved out of onyx, as black as a moonless night, andtrimmed with a golden border. The arms of his throne were inlaid with two skulls, a largeruby set in each of the skulls eye sockets.His throne room was no less magnificent. The floor was also of polished onyx,shining from the dim glow of few torches that lit the room. At first glance, the torcheswould seem normal, but upon closer inspection, one would find out that the flame was litinside of a skull, the top of which had been sliced off so the flame could freely shine. Along red rug ran from the foot of the throne to great, dark, polished, mahogany doors atthe front of the room.At his feet lay a monstrous dog, which he affectionately referred to as Reaper,which seemed to blend in to with the dark polished floor and the black throne. The dogwas only noticeable when the smallest amount of light hit its eyes, which gleamed liketwo yellow orbs. He stoked the dogs’ head contentedly, which had been his only true andloyal companion since he had been a street urchin in the desert city of Shalondrin in thedeep south of the continent.There was one question that puzzled him though: What should he conquer next?There were so many to choose from: Should it be the elves that dwell in the lush greenforests of the Forgotten Woods to the west? Or maybe it should be the dwarves thatdwell inside their rich and magnificent homes in the Kelfradrim Mountains to the east. Or 1
 perhaps one of the few “free” human settlements that have been giving him so muchtrouble lately such as the beautiful city of Salador. Decisions, decisions…Suddenly, there is a knock on the throne rooms giant, mahogany door. Reaper  began to growl its low, deep growl, the growl of an animal that was not afraid to kill.“Easy my friend,” he whispered. In a loud, cold, hard voice, he said, “Enter.”Breathlessly, the man pushed through the giant mahogany doors. “My… lord,” he began, before being interrupted.“This had better be important, Bors, you remember what happened the last timeyou interrupted my private thoughts…” he let his gaze drift down to Bors’ three-fingeredhand as Reaper issued another low growl.“M-m-my l-l-lord,” Bors stammered, knowing all too well what his master’sferocious dog would do to him, “Salador has sent an emissary on behalf of the offer thatyou sent to them.”“And what does their emissary say, Bors.”Bors gulped. “The emissary says that Salador will never bow to you my lord.They said they would die fighting before they ever bow down to you.”He sat there on his throne digesting this information. He knew that Salador wouldnot agree to the treaty due to the valor of famous Knights of the White Bear. But it didnot matter; Salador would bow to him, whether they did peacefully, or by force. He preferred force.“Send the emissary in,” he stated.“But my lord,” Bors began.2
“Send the emissary in, or you shall find yourself short another finger,” he stated inone of the calmest, coldest voice that Bors had ever heard his master speak.“Y-y-yes, my lord.”Bors left the throne room with great haste. Reaper looked at his master, who inturn nodded to him. Reaper got up and stalked silently to the side to where he was nolonger visible.Bors entered a short while later, leading the emissary from Salador in with a chainaround his neck. His guards had seemed to have a little fun with the emissary, who had both of his eyes blackened, and multiple cuts on his face. The emissary’s clothes weretorn and shredded in multiple places, showing even more cuts and bruises. His golden- brown hair was matted down with blood and sweat. He noticed a magnificent scabbardthat was attached on his belt, though the sword that had once hung there was gone, probably taken by one of his guards as a keepsake. He would have to track that guarddown and punish him for taking what was probably a magnificent sword. He likedattractive things…But despite all of the bruises, cuts, and wounds on this emissary, he could sensethe air of dignity that still surrounded this man. The emissary’s piercing green eyesseemed to be sizing him up. They seemed to notice everything about the black, polishedarmor that was trimmed with gold, seeming to try and find some kind of weak point.They lingered on the great jeweled, vicious looking, two-headed battleaxe that wasstrapped to his back that he affectionately called Dragon’s Bane.He and the emissary locked eyes for a long while, each continuously sizing theother up. Finally, he spoke. “Bors, leave us.”3

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