- Joined
- Jul 24, 2008
- Messages
- 294
This is a story about war.
Through the many ages, through the countless years. This is a story; a story how power, money and greed can corrupt any mortal man. Under the watchful eyes of the shadowgalde mountains. Through the deep and dense forests. Lay many mortal kingdoms, with countless mortal men. Atop this mountain, is believed to be where all good and evil souls lay there spirits. There was once a myth, that every hundred years. The spirits would pick one family to take up the Black Crown, giving the family control over the dead; no family could ever be picked twice.
Every time a new family was picked, the old family would fall. Almost instantly. This of course, created a power vacuumed every time. Resulting in thousands of deaths. Sometimes whole kingdoms were whiped out. All in the Name of power. This happened for countless years. The was one kingdom, who’s power would last the longest. His name was King Zirr. He came into power when he was twelve. The Black Crown chose him. In the beginning he was kind and gentle to the people of the country. As he aged, his hatred grew. We would kill hundreds at a time, for no reason. Sometimes with his bare hands. He had more power then any could name. He would devastate whole kingdoms in mere days. The people hated him. For this, his son Zink killed him in his sleep. Never before has one ruling the dead died. This, was something that never should have happened... it was if the whole world it self was thrown into darkness. The dead rose from slumber and the living were left to suffer.
It was said, The Black Crown was destroyed by Zink bestowing all its powers onto him. He is no longer living, but far from dead. The Shadowglase Mountains erupted. With the spirits of the dead. Reeking havoc on the living... Sending the country into darkness... There is no longer sunlight... There is no longer the living... There is only death... Any man who has the power of the crown... He must die, the only way to kill Zink. Is to kill death it self.
[The remainder of the book is burnt]
Through the many ages, through the countless years. This is a story; a story how power, money and greed can corrupt any mortal man. Under the watchful eyes of the shadowgalde mountains. Through the deep and dense forests. Lay many mortal kingdoms, with countless mortal men. Atop this mountain, is believed to be where all good and evil souls lay there spirits. There was once a myth, that every hundred years. The spirits would pick one family to take up the Black Crown, giving the family control over the dead; no family could ever be picked twice.
Every time a new family was picked, the old family would fall. Almost instantly. This of course, created a power vacuumed every time. Resulting in thousands of deaths. Sometimes whole kingdoms were whiped out. All in the Name of power. This happened for countless years. The was one kingdom, who’s power would last the longest. His name was King Zirr. He came into power when he was twelve. The Black Crown chose him. In the beginning he was kind and gentle to the people of the country. As he aged, his hatred grew. We would kill hundreds at a time, for no reason. Sometimes with his bare hands. He had more power then any could name. He would devastate whole kingdoms in mere days. The people hated him. For this, his son Zink killed him in his sleep. Never before has one ruling the dead died. This, was something that never should have happened... it was if the whole world it self was thrown into darkness. The dead rose from slumber and the living were left to suffer.
It was said, The Black Crown was destroyed by Zink bestowing all its powers onto him. He is no longer living, but far from dead. The Shadowglase Mountains erupted. With the spirits of the dead. Reeking havoc on the living... Sending the country into darkness... There is no longer sunlight... There is no longer the living... There is only death... Any man who has the power of the crown... He must die, the only way to kill Zink. Is to kill death it self.
[The remainder of the book is burnt]
