The land of Vinogradov is no normal land, it is host to thousands of magical and mythical beasts, it has wonderful, picturesque landscapes, everyone looked up to the nobility of the land, and they were all at peace. But when The King, Randal Vinogradov II Fights and burns out the eyes of the young Count Satanor, The whole land is Tainted. Many of the beasts turn to the Count and become his soldiers, and he begins to raise an army of thousands of murderous, bloodthirsty, magical criminals to figh
THE Land of Vinogradov was a peaceful land, all the people were strong willed and powerful. Obviously, it was ruled by the Vinogradov family, the first ruler was wise old Rankin Vinogradov I, he was a very powerful and intelligent Vinogradovian, and so was his offspring: Rankin Vinogradov II, he was an expert magician by the age of thirteen, top of his class in his school, and an excellent sword master.
But eventually, King Rankin Vinogradov I would get old and pass away, and as he lay in his death bed, his servants, minstrels, doctors, his wife, Queen Catalina, but not his son, not his heir, his successor, not his prince, where was Prince Rankin. In truth he wasmagicsparring in the School’s Gardens with his best friend, and fellow magic connoisseur, the young Count Satanor.
The battle was fought with magic that was released through the body, so, either the hands or eyes could be used to do this. Prince Vinogradov held his hand up to face the Count, and the count squinted (He was going to use his eyes.
‘Radius Viridis!’ The Count shouted,
Suddenly a green, scolding ray of light shot from his eyes, and blasted Rankin’s royal emblem on his shirt, the badge then disappeared in a blast of emerald smoke. The Prince then hit back an attack by shouting:
And a huge upsurge of fire; discharged itself from Rankin’s hand and engulfed the young count his deathly flames. The fiery embers melted Count Satanor’s eyes from his hardy skull. Rankin lowered his hand and closed his eyes in shame, a man then ran rapidly towards him.
‘My royal highness, the king is dying, you must come with me back to the palace, to bid him farewell!’
Rankin ran toward the coach, and pounced into it, a dwarf then whipped the horses that pulled the coach; it then shot down the Vinogradovian Streets towards the palace. When the coach pulled up outside the palace, Rankin flung open the doors and ran upstairs to his father’s bedroom; he knelt down at the bed and held his father’s hand. But it was too late to say goodbye. King Rankin I was dead. And his son would be his heir.
The night of King Rankin I’s death, Count Satanor stormed blindly into the palace, and shouted: ‘Fulgur!’
And thousands of volts worth of lightning shot down from the sky and crashed through the roof, crushing many people, and also crushing the legs of King Rankin II.
‘You, sir have destroyed something of mine therefore I shall destroy double. First I destroyed your prim little palace, and now your legs that you would have used to run away from me, coward.’
The new King cried out in pain, and tried to summon the strength to fight back against the count, but he couldn’t.
‘You are no match for the mighty Dark-mage.’ The count said arrogantly as he left the derelict palace chuckling to himself about his evil wit, and his amazing power.
Rankin called out for help, but nobody answered his cries. But when Rankin thought that he would die, a voice came to him:
‘Help me. Rebuild this castle and I will save you now,’
‘Who speaks within these dilapidated walls, show yourself,’ the king replied abruptly
‘NO! Time is of the essence, Movere.’ The voice said,
And then all of a sudden the rubble that lay heavily on top of the king moved from above him. He was now safe, but what lay ahead of him was horrible, nightmares, nightmares of the real sort. Every night this voice would come to him, it would say nothing that made sense to any of the psychiatrists or Doctors that King Rankin II had seen.
The Voice would always say: ‘Tueri opacus magus,’
The voice wasn’t talking directly to him; it was as if the voice didn’t even know he could hear. The dreams happened all through his life and by the time his son, Egan, reached the age of eighteen, the dreams got worse, and the voice got louder. The dreams weakened the king; the only thing he had to protect himself from the Dark-mage now was his son, and his magic, and even that had unfortunately become quite pathetic in his old age.