Chapter I: Invocation Of Apocalyptic Evil

There are tales among Men. Tales of the dawn of Gelerui. These tales begin when man and fiend both arrived on the grassy plains. There was no peace. The demonkin slaughtered men by the thousands and it was always so for millennia. The demonkin were the stronger and man had no chance.

Indeed, what had once been a civilization of one hundred thousand strong, had been reduced to a mere seventy-five. Either by chance, or by fate, they came across some ancient ruins as they fled. The ruins were from a long-dead race of Dragons, who lived in flying Citadels. Sensing their plight, a Dragon spirit had come to them, unveiling many secrets they could use: of war and survival particularly, though there were many more. But he had mentioned a forbidden secret, one that could not be shared.

The leader of the men was named Zhodz, and he was a persuasive speaker. By his words, he managed to convince the ancient dragon that these secrets would not be enough to save them. He spoke of their strength and their terror, and by his words convinced the dragon to give up the forbidden secret.

The dragon hesitated, and then he recited to them his darkest secret. He told them how to infuse Dragon blood within them, to make them stronger and more agile. And as he spoke it, with a warning not to use the power for malicious ends, Zhodz had already been touched by greed. For greed changes the hearts of men, and even as the Dragon realized his mistake, Zhodz—who alone had heard the secret—was himself undergoing the ritual. A few minutes later he stood in much the same way he had before, albeit a rough foot talker, slightly more reptilian, and with thick red wings. Feeling the strength, it is said that Zhodz took everyone he held dear with him to undergo the ritual, with the exception of his best friend Eawhoc, who objected to the ritual, preferring to die in honor than be always tempted by the great power.

And so with the day finished, a third of Man were no longer. They had ascended and had become seemingly superior, they were the Dragonkin, and they were fierce and terrible.

The battle of Ghok-Jujoryor is perhaps, the most famous in all of Gelerui. It is said that the twenty-five dragonkin were unstoppable. Legend has it that the Demonkin were reduced to a mere seven warriors, and their king, King Anyu, had come to barter peace. All the parties dropped their weapons in peace, and then Zhodz and the others lunged as one, finishing off the demonkin forever.

Turning back to Man, Zhodz declared this a glorious victory for the dragonkin. With a smile, he walked over to Eawhoc, and buried his dagger into his friend’s chest. Turning back to the rest of Eawhoc’s kin he spread his arms and boastfully declared, “Congratulations! The horde is dead!”

There was an uneasy pause.

“Now bow to your new masters,” he added with a sneer.

This reads pretty well. It appears more of a kind of prelude, a prologue to a story, rather than a chapter, though. It sounds pretty darn interesting. I am surely going to read if you will update in the future.

Pretty nice. ^__^

Ewww, DragonForce

Rhapsody officially rocks in my book. Keep it up.