TLoA: The Rise of Darkwrath

The Land of Amazeron: The Rise of Darkwrath (TLoA:TRoD) is the first in a planned epic series of books that will follow different characters in the land of Amazeron.
"The Rise of Darkwrath" will follow a young man named Lionel Turk, the son of a blacksmith in the small town of Rodway.

    He was a pariah.

    An outcast.

    A wretch.

    In their minds, he was better off dead. Little did they know that he was their hero, their messiah. He would save them, even if they hated him. Even if they despised him for no cognitive reason. He would save them, because it was his fate, his calling, his destiny.

    He stalked through the shadows of the dark cave, his sword held a mere inches away from his steel chestplate. A dark ambience filled the air, a stingy murkiness that seemed to cling to everything. The man took in a breath, and gagged as his senses were suddenly filled with a terrible stench.

    The place wreaked of death.

    Regardless, the man kept walking, slowly, quietly, cautiously . . .

    A loud beating sound startled him, but he relaxed when he realized it was only his heart. He was anxious to find this demon, to fight it, and to kill it. But he knew the time would come when it came, and not before. He would savor every moment, relish in every second of the hunt.

    His armor was quiet, unlike most, which benefited him greatly in his work. Somehow, his blacksmith always seemed to find a way to create the most quiet, yet sturdy pieces of armor and equipment. It was always exactly what he needed, and it had made it possible to traverse the most quiet places without even a sound.

    He brandished his blade subconsciously as he heard the loud sounds of beating wings suddenly echo off the cave walls. Dust began to leak through the crevices in the ceiling as the cave began to shake softly with a rhythmic beat. Footsteps of a giant beast.

    A dragon.

    The knight quickly but efficiently made a check to prepare for his encounter. He saw that all of his weapons were where they should be, placed in the most accessible manner throughout his armor. He made sure he was aware of the placement of each before moving forward once more.

    As the footsteps grew louder, the soldier's eyes searched the terrain for cover, for a hiding place. When his eyes fell upon a large boulder sitting to his right, he silently moved to it and crouched down. He positioned himself in a manner that would keep him out of sight, yet ready for an attack at any given moment.

    The man's heart stopped as a loud roar shrieked through his ears, almost throwing him to the ground with its force. Any other man would have dropped his weapon and grabbed his ears to protect them, but this man did not. He swallowed deeply before peeking over the boulder.

    And sure enough, there it stood, a massive beast with armor-like-skin that seemed to glow brighter with every step, with battered and torn wings that told stories of its own, stories of battles, all with the same outcome. This time, however, things would be different. This man was prepared, unlike the others who had been unfortunate enough to encounter such a ferocity. The dragon had been playing predator, but now, he was merely prey. Prey that would soon find its head laying inches from its body. Prey that would soon be dead.

    The dragon did not seem to even consider this as it walked triumphantly across the cave, thinking itself free of all trangressions, thinking itself immortal. This man, this soldier, this dragonslayer, knew better.

    He moved his hand smoothly across the handle and gripped it in the place that felt most comfortable. He then slowly crept backwards into the shadows, and waited.

    The dragon moved forward, the weight of its body shaking the entire cave with every step, the smoke pertaining from its noise steaming the room with an intense heat. The man waited still. The time had not come yet.

    The dragon's wing muscles tensed as it shook away the old dust that had been covering their glory. It rose back onto its hind legs and gave a loud roar of warning to those who he soon planned to hunt.

    And it was then, that the soldier attacked.

    Dashing from the shadows, lifting his sword, he charged straight for the dragon's tail. The dragon, too busy roaring to notice the man, continued to shriek powerfully as the man leapt onto the dragon's tail and dashed up its spine.

    Even when the dragon had relaxed its throat, it still did not notice the man. The extra weight upon its back could have been anything after all. A harmless bug, a bat maybe. It did not realize what it was until the soldier had reached the dragon's neck. The dragon, suddenly aware of the danger, lashed out its tail to the left, striking the cave wall. Boulders and rocks poured onto the dragons back, boulders large enough to crush the soldier, but small enough to leave only mere bruises on the dragon's arched posterior.

    Leaping, the soldier rolled out of the way of an oncoming boulder, just before driving his sword deep into the flesh of the monstrous beast.

    They fought for a long hour.

The End

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