(this has NO bearing on this site whatsoever, it is just something i have written, the only real "connection" to this site, is that Blade, or, Danarius, is one of the main characters)
The final parry came to slowly from Danarius, the rune-etched blade penetrated the seam of his breast plate, piercing into his chest. It missed his heart by less than an inch,perhaps this was a blessing to the world. For had the blade penetrated that life sustaining organ, it would have unleashed all of the magic sealed there under multiple layers of enchantments. The resulting release of untold amounts of energy would have killed every being sensitive to magi withing a thousand miles, and wounded most others. Instead he fell,immobilized, and outwardly lifeless, his mind remained active,though trapped within the confines of his body. This was unknown to those who had sought to fell him, for had they known he survived the, they would have severed his head and separated it from his body. Instead they proceeded with the thought that he was killed, vanquished in battle, and erected a monument to the warrior and person he had been before becoming darkness incarnate. After erecting the building, a circle of wizards, some of whom had repented from his service, sank it deep into the earth, never to be seen again. Or so they thought....
They did not realize that when they sunk the crypt, that they had weakened the tectonic plate. The effects of this would not be felt or know until long after they passed from the world. Though, by this time, the happenings and events of those dark ages, where remembered,would become the stuff of fables, myths, and child hood tales. A spider web of weakened lines, spreading out from the crypt, gave way to extensive mountain ranges, where once had been a massive plain proceeded by an even larger ancient in-land sea, which rose in the pattern of the sigil of House Blackthorne. Though the design of their skull with a rose woven through the eye sockets and mouth could only be seen from such a height as was unattainable except by the most powerful of magical creatures capable of flight.
The crypt rose with the land, coming up inside of a rather unspectacular mountain, at the base of which a rather odd little one city kingdom arose. One day, after being driven from the kingdom for being, ironically, too odd, one man stumbled across the opening to a very extensive cave system. He stumbled into them, and wandered through them for days, searching for the way out. When he finally managed to escape, a search party had come to retrieve him from his exile. When they found him, they were surprised to learn about his discovery of the cave system. And, as would be expected, when word of them got beyond the kingdom, people came to explore them, why? Because caves.
The exploration of these caves continued for centuries as they were traced deeper and deeper into the mountains. As time went on, the Kingdom of Bob, ruled by Bob, administered by the Council of Seven Bobs, with the head religious figure, the Seeress Cleopatra, changed and adapted to make the caves, which turned out to be quite rich in deposits of gold, silver, and various other precious gems, their main home. They even changed physically over thousands of years to become what most people would consider Dwarves, and in time,they did in fact, become Dwarves. Their bodies changed, becoming shorter, thicker set, making it easier for them to navigate through and maneuver in the tunnels the carved through the mountains where they made their homes. They were not the only people affected over time by the tectonic upheaval. The rising mountains formed a barrier to the warm, moist air coming from the south. As a result, a lush forest rose where the southern winds dropped their moisture, as the forest grew, more and more people made their homes there, in the richest areas. These rich areas of forest lay along powerful, ancient when Danarius first turned to the darkness, ley lines. These magic lines merged at a Nexus in the south central edge of the forest, near the coastal waters. The inhabitants of the forest were affected by the ley lines. As they lived there, they learned to manipulate the trees and plants, learning to shape them into homes and other living buildings. They were also changed physically as well, becoming fairer of skin and finer of build, where the Dwarves had become sturdier and swarthier. There were changes to the north as well, with the mountains blocking the warm south winds, the cold northern winds came south, bringing the arctic temperatures with them. Vast sheets of ice moved south, punctuated in places by geothermal hotspots, and here was where the Uruks made their home. This was made possible only by he heat from the earth. They are a race descended from the ancient orks, who had evolved to grow fur coats to protect them from the bite of the freezing winds in the north. Mixed among all of this, both peacefully, aggressively, and at times separately, were the various kingdoms of man.
The kingdoms of man, now there, is a wide,varied history. Some were peaceful, some warlike, some impoverished and some successful. Some lasted for generations that eventually faded away, and some crumbled into civil immediately after the original conqueror passed away. S went the march of time, the origins of the Great Races, the Dwarves, Elves, Uruks and Man, similar as they were, all became lost in the unstoppable flow of time, and, as these things go, the secrets of the great ancients of magic were irrevocably lost. Tat is, lost to all except the comatose, slumbering mind of Danarius Blackthrone. There he remained entombed in his crypt, slumbering beneath the great home of the Dwarves, until one day, an adventurous young dwarf, caught deep in the bowels of the earth during an earthquake, stumbled upon a fissure leading to its entrance.
Keythane Diamondhart, a young male dwarf, was tracing a newly discovered gold vein along a cave wall. The earthquake was not large by any means. Keythane was the only one aware of it except for the seismic measuring team, and this was only because he was at the epicenter. After the shaking subsided, he continued on his way, but after a few steps, the floor opened in a fissure beneath his feet, casting him into darkness. He awoke a while later, face pressed into a hard,marble, floor. After blinking a few times, he realized he could see by a faint glow coming from engravings in the floor. Climbing to his feet, with one hand on the wall, he followed what seemed to be te direction the hall lead. As he went, he saw mounds of treasures, golden crowns, and scepters, as well as great swords and battle axes that were ornately decorated. These could have broken any number of modern weapons as easily as a child could break a twig in it shands. He continued on, his amazement growing as he saw more and more fantastic wonders. After walking for several minutes, he came to a large, open room. At the center of the room was what looked like a giant slab of marble with a sword, even more ornately decorated than anything he had seen yet, rising from the center. As Keytane approached the marble, he felt a powerful compulsion to touch the sword. When he reached the slab, he put out his hand, without thinking, and grabbed the hilt. He was instantly met by a burning nd sucking sensation in the palm of the hand clutching the sword. When Keythane managed to pull his hand away, blood dripped down the sword, running along channels to where it met the marble. There was a blinding flash, followed by a sigh as the sword fell over, clattering to the stone floor. When the after image of the flash faded from his eyes, he looked down and saw a large man. He was emaciated to the point of appearing skeletal, and laying on the slab before Keythane. The only signs that the man, who looked to be at least seven feet tall, was alive was the sound of strained breathing, the subtle rise and fall of his chest, and perhaps most disturbing, the piercing purple eyes staring up at him from the sunken face.
Despite the frail, sunken, starved looking appearance of the man, there was an air, a feeling, of power and strength eminating from him. The man spoke, or at least Keythane thought he spoke, in a raspy voice, in a language unheard in its entirety for centuries, if not longer. The look in Keythane's eyes portrayed to him a complete lack of understanding of his words. The man seemed to consider and think for a moment, as though trying to rememer something. Then, he spoke again, in the same raspy voice.
“H, ha, hand.” He rasped out, trying to direct Keythane to his twitching fingers with his eyes. After a moment of hesitation, Keythane slowly placed his hand in the man's comparatively monstrous appendage. His hand immediately snapped shut like a steel trap, followed by a mind altering, body numbing jolt of energy. Though it lasted only a few seconds, it felt as thought someone had laid all of Keythane's mind out, and looked through every though, memory and crevasse of his existence. When his hand was released, he collapsed, falling backwards, and landing on his rather stout dwarven hind quarters.
“What in the seven hells was that?”He said aloud, and realized that was the first thing he had vocalized since he had began his journey to trace the vein of gold.
“That was me establishing a mental connecting, and learning your language you stupid dwarf twit.” A voice said in his head, causing him to jump. “Good, you can hear me, and your language is a horrible inbred bastardization of the ancient tongue..But, I digress Diamondhart, or do you prefer Keythane?” The voice inquired.
“K-k-Keythane, but my friends call me Keyt (Keet).” He stammered in reply.
“Keyt, Keyt,” The voice said, testing it out. “Stupid name, I shall call you Diamondhart until you acquire a better one.”
“What, m, what do you mean, acquire a better name? And whats wrong with the one I have NOW?” he demanded, “and furthermore, who in the hell are you?”
“Who am I? You dare ask who I am?” There was a bemused tone to the voice. “I am the might Danarius Blackthorne. I am the Darkness incarnate, terror of the world” It stated as if expecting, from its very name, that he would turn into a fearful mass of quivering jelly.
“Well, 'Danarius', and you accused ME of having a funny name. To me, you are just a disembodied voice from a withered husk of a man laying on a slab in front of me. You-” He stopped with a gasp, cut off by images flashing through his mind. These, however, were not memories, but were more akin to visions. He saw himself lifting a sword before a dwarven horde They let out a roar as he spoke in a language he did not understand Another,this one of him seated on a throne as various dwarf emissaries knelt before him, swearing fealty. A third vision, this one of him forcing an armor clad elf to his knees at sword point. Then, the final vision, this time, ofe of him sitting on a large beautifully decorated throne, with multitudes of beings kneeling before him. Dwarves, elves, humans, and species he had never seen or heard of before. The visions ended, with him gasping, and on his knees before the slab.
“Ah, so you do have dreams of power Dreams beyond, what, the third son of a miner?” The voice, Danarius, he reminded himself, asked.
“Fifth son, actually, twelfth child, and the youngest” He replied, without knowing why. “My sisters still all live with us, I was forced to begin work at an early age, so I could not attend school.” The words seemed to pour out of him now. “ My last hope at any education, beyond mining, was the Mage Circles Talent Test. But, I failed it, so, I have no magic. Now, well, I am a lesser apprentice to a lazy, greedy metal smith who only pays me about half of what I earn.” He said the last words with bitter venom, the man truly was a bitter, lazy, greedy asinine individual.
“Talentless? I would most certainly beg to differ.” Danarius remarked after a short pause of silence. “A man with no Talent in his blood would not have been able to release me from the seal of that damned sword While you may be no great master of Magic, you are by no means Talentless. From what I gathered through your memories, the tests they performed tested for the wrong , or rather, a different understanding, or even different type, of Magic then what used to be common. But no, you are not untalented, and I am intimately familiar with the type of magic you possess.” What the voice said brought a smile to Keythane's face. “So, Diamondhart,, of the weapons in this room, besides that damned sword, which appeals to you the most?” Keythane looked around, considering the question. After a few minutes of contemplation, he crossed the room to pick up what looked to be a war hammer. When he lifted it to check its heft, a rush of energy poured through him, eliciting a startled grunt. “Ah, that hammer, a very powerful weapon. Now, what name comes to mind for it?”
Again, Keythane needed to pause for a few minutes to think, then, “God Killer.” He said, and knew instantly that the name fit.
“Hm, interesting choice, the last man to wield that hammer, called it the opposite, God-Maker. Perhaps the nature of its magic has changed, or, you may have a mind the opposite of his, either one is possible.” Danarius deliberated. “Anyway, since you are metal smiths apprentice, I can teach you methods of crafting that will produce goods to put anything else your people have produced in modern times to shame.”
Keythane's eyes grew as large as feast dinner plates. “You can? Really? I'll do whatever you desire of me.” He said with no hesitation.
“Now now,” Danarius said with a chuckle, “I feel that I must warn you, that, if you swear to me, that I will utterly own you until such a time as I decide to release you. But, you will become very rich and powerful in the process. Thought, unless I decide to release you, you will be forever subservient to me. Do you understand, and consent, to this Keythane Diamondhart?”
“Yes, master” He answered, adding the second word after a brief moment of hesitation. As he replied, Danarius began to chant in a strange ancient language.
