Writer's Land: Ambrahka

Chapter 9 - The Adventure Begins

Fri, 05 Jan 2007 19:32:59 GMT

     Dekkion stopped and listened, thinking he heard footsteps. Slowly turning his head over his shoulder he grimaced slightly as he tried to see through the darkness. ‘Nothing, perhaps it was just the wind’ he thought and continued onward. The wind started to pick up and it was becoming fairly difficult to travel and Dekkion was starting to wonder if he had made a mistake entering this forest so close to nightfall, when he spotted a small shack. No torch or other means of light was present in the area which made Dekkion reluctant to explore it for he did not wish to disturb or frighten anyone. Yet the weather was not permitting for much more travel and besides, it was already late and after a long day of travel he figured he should get some rest. Still the eeriness of the woods was frightening enough and he could not imagine why anyone would want to live here or for that matter how he managed to foster enough courage to examine the strange shack.
     The thick woods made the darkness even darker and he maintained caution as he closed the distance between himself and the shack. The usual forest and some strange noises were a constant hum in the air of this place most likely forgotten by God. His journey up to this point had been fairly uneventful. It would seem that even though there could be some vile creatures living in these woods, they wanted no part of him, or perhaps that was just his wishful thinking and they just didn’t find him to be worth the effort. Either way, he could find himself in danger at any time and was mindful of his surroundings. The shack appeared old and somewhat rotten at the edges of the boards that made up its walls and roof. Dekkion walked around the shack and tried to get a glimpse of the interior, but it was to dark. In fact it was starting to appear as though there is no one there. He approached the door and placed his hand on what was left of the handle. He slowly pulled and the door creaked as it moved outward creating a gap of darkness that was the interior of this shack. He propped his right foot against the door so as to keep it from shutting, then with his left hand he reach into his pack and withdrew a torch. With his right he reached into a pocket and pulled out a small crystal. He looked at it fondly for a moment, thinking about his father, who had given him this item and explained how it possessed magical properties. The crystal was one of his fathers’ most prized possessions. Its magic allowed the wielder to create a small flame when manipulating the crystal correctly. At this moment Dekkion felt very thankful for his fathers generosity and of course his thoroughness in teaching him how to properly use the crystal.
     Dekkion drew the crystal over the torch and made two small circular motions around the top of the torch and then touched the crystal to the material wrapped about the stick. As he separated the crystal from the torch, it suddenly burst into flame. The flickering brought the immediate area to life. Dekkion blinked shutting his eyes tightly before slowly opening just his left as it was always the first eye to adjust to bright light. The flames danced as light poured into the empty shack. Dekkion replaced the crystal and kept his elbow against the door as he leaned in with his left hand and moved in slowly. Finally able to open both eyes comfortably he surveyed his immediate surroundings. There were some broken chairs and a table that was still held up by one of it’s corners against the floor, the leg that once held that side up was broken in two and laying by the wall. He jolted startled slightly as the door shut suddenly behind him, he couldn’t help a chuckle at his silliness. Making sure the door was properly closed he decided that it was a safe enough place to take shelter for the night. He found a notch in one of the boards that made up the barely stable walls and with his sword carved it out some more and made it larger; Just large enough to place the torch into. He leaned his sword against the wall and removed his pack resting it on the floor to his right as he slid down against the wall with a simultaneous sigh of relief.
     He sat there for a while just staring ahead lost in thought, thinking about his journey and wondering what may come. He thought about his family, his brothers, sisters, his mother and father. He thought about everything he left behind in pursuit of what some had referred to as silly aspirations. But there was nothing silly about wanting to become virtuous and even less silly, was the fact that he wanted to find his half-brother. Who was not necessarily the most responsible one, but the years they spent together while both living at home they became very close. Dekkion was very fond of Kvalhion and after the disappearance of their sister being the youngest, it feel upon their older brothers to set out and find her. Over time Dekkion and Kvalhion became closer brothers than that of Dekkion and his other brothers who all had the same father. Maybe it was because they were the only ones left to tend to take care of the family, or maybe it was that they were very close in age, but regardless of the reason their bond grew very strong. It was somehow ironic as well that things turned out in such a way that always had Dekkion watching out for Kvalhion. But then again, it seems Dekkion always showed the potential to become a holy knight, and Kvalhion showed enough potential to become… something, if he really tried hard. Dekkion smiled to himself as he thought back to all the good times he had with his brother and all the misadventures they had shared. After a few moments the smile turned into a frown as thought of trouble resurfaced in his mind, and deep in his gut he felt that something was wrong and finding Kvalhion was the most important thing that he needed to do. Dekkion broke his gaze and looked down at his pack. He opened the cover and to pass the time took out a journal and began to write…

Chapter 8 - Gu'ardan - Denouement

Fri, 06 Oct 2006 12:02:37 GMT

     For six long years the harsh training continued. Six long years training to be an elite warrior has a way of changing a boy into a man rather quickly. Roncur, his unit partner and four others were ordered to assemble in the very room where it all began with the orientation six years ago.
     "You have completed your training. You shall be assigned a contact, which will be your only source for information, assignments, and council." Virquin spoke in an abysmal and swift tone. "You will be assigned a charge, this is what you have all been training for and this is what you will spend the rest of your days doing."
     The men looked at each other with a quizzical look and waited. The door opened and a tall woman entered the chamber.
     “Hello, I am called Amiana. I am a keeper of a sacred knowledge. We have much work to do.”
     She spoke softly. Roncur couldn’t resist her beauty as his eyes remained fixed upon her face.
     “Listen carefully as we do not have much time.”
#
     Magic overwhelmed the small village of Gorndei as dark elves fell one by one. It was determined that where these few allowed to live, the knowledge they possessed about the realms of magic called Nec-T'yur, would give them the ability to release a deadly plague upon the land. They had to be stopped and Roncur was given the duty of bringing the wizard Amiana to intercept and destroy the dark elves.
#
     Fifteen years have passed since we left the Academy. I have made it my life’s work to record as much as I can of the Gu’ardan in my journals. It all began twenty-one years past when my own studies of the arcane came to a most unexpected end. Master Vi’Akyran came to me and interrupted my reading. I still remember that evening as if it was just last night.
     “Jerhuar, listen to me. There is a duty of great importance which I am entrusting to you. It will be no easy task and as my most progressed student I feel there is no other that could better accomplish it. It is however an unfortunate exchange, as we will no longer be able to continue your training. But I must admit, that which I am asking you to undertake can not be asked of any other. I have not the time to delve into the details of your task as you must depart come early light. I will tell you this…a very powerful and secretive society exists in our lands. It is a very special group of individuals that plays a critical role in our lands, but has maintained a shroud of secrecy, for reason that you shall soon enough learn. I will not lie to you; I have played a part in this. Of course I have long since retired from those duties and as you are aware have been teaching for more years now then even I can remember. The council sought me out and requested that a formal study and record be made. So please trust me when I say there is no other choice and this will be the most important thing you will do.”
     I did not question him…you do not question a Master Wizard, you simply listen and do as he…or she, says. There is no such thing as personal principle when it comes to the wisdom of a wizard. I knew that if something could lead Vi’Akyran to such actions then it must be of incredible importance. Discontinuing the studies of a pupil before completion was, dare I say, unheard of. Do not understand this as a lack of modesty on my part, granted I was on the high marks list but simply that sometimes in life you make choices, and, sometimes the choices are made for you. In this case it was most certainly the later, but given the circumstances I did not regret the actions. I must admit I do so wish to have been able to complete my studies. It would have been wonderful to have become a wizard instead of just a prophet and a scribe. Mere words and old dreams, as I did come to realize just how right Vi’Akyran had been. It’s just that sometimes, I wish I could have done more…
#
     Amiana stood back, casting deadly storms of death onto the hapless elves. Roncur took point and with his mastery of battle, cut down any that managed to get close enough. How ironic that, such beautiful colors of light can be responsible for such destruction. Not long after this had begun, all that was left was a town covered with bodies and two defenders standing tall like gods.
     The years went by leaving only memories of the vast numbers of life they had taken. Their lives were indeed filled with incredible danger as promised during their training. Only Roncur and Amiana remained as the rest of Roncur’s group had fallen in battle over the years. Their bond to each other eventually brought them close and they developed a love stronger then their combined might. They found solace in each other that was desperately needed and it helped them endure and press forward, mission after mission.
     One day a pact was formed between a cult known as the Dark Brotherhood and the dark race. Agents of the society returned information to the council that made them very nervous. The Brotherhood wanted to establish their own rule, under which they would destroy the Gu’ardan and release the dark magic that would make them the most powerful members of the arcane world. After learning of this, the society decided that it would be necessary to bring all the chosen together to rid the world of this threat once and for all. The necessity to put a stop to the Brotherhood was greater then that of keeping the secrecy between the ranks. The Brotherhood leader Grenex Nurthies had established some camps in the South Tahirah desert not far from some old ruins where what he called the dawning of a new age would begin.
     For the first time the Gu’ardan had all been gathered in one place for one purpose. There was an obvious feeling of uncertainty as this imposing army of warriors who have never trained together, never fought together, have never even as much as met all gathered in one place. They could only hope they would be able to stop this threat and save the land from a horrendous evil.
     As day break came scouts reported that an army of dark elves had been spotted approaching from the north. At first only small numbers could be seen, but as they got closer there appeared to be no end to the procession. There must have been thousands by the time they had surrounded the ruins. The Brotherhood had also gathered in vast numbers as well. A small number of dark elves entered the structure. It appeared they had a human woman in chains that was being taken inside. Not long after they had entered, a bright red glow started to emanate surrounding the entire area. A shrieking scream was heard and in almost what seemed to be an explosion, the sky changed color and the red glow around the ruins began pulsating. It was so quiet that chanting could be heard from within the ruins. I couldn't hear everything but what I did hear was the most frightening moment of my life.
     "They shall rise and walk this plane. Let the barrier be broken and the dead will take rein of this land and NOTHING SHALL STAND IN OUR WAY."
     The land begun to shake and what happened next could only be described as appalling. It appeared that the human woman had walked out without escort, but there was something different. Terrible discoloration in her skin made her look like she had been rotting for many years; a wide laceration was visible from her belly to her throat. How was this possible, how could she be alive? A dark elf emerged from within walking up to her. He was dressed in a bright robe and carried a staff. He must have been the one that carried out the ceremony. He stopped in front of her and yelled out.
     "It has begun, the queen is born. We will rule this land and there shall be nothing to stop us."
     Before he could continue the woman grabbed him and bit into his neck gnawing at it with a great hunger. He fell to the ground and at witnessing this, others in the immediate area turned to attack her. Ten must have been killed within moments, but they were not able to stop her as more went down. The ground continued to shake as the ground opened up. This was not expected, no one was prepared and if only they knew, the Gu’ardan could have attacked sooner and put a stop to what transpired. Yet they had failed before they even began.
     This was certainly a dark day, for these openings began to produce forms that looked like the human woman. Slowly they climbed out, pulling themselves free from the ground. Very quickly both sides had been surrounded by these things that I can only describe as walking dead.. Caught by surprise both sides who would have met in battle began to fight side by side against this common foe. There seemed to be no hope as the now unified army began dwindling in numbers. It appeared as though these creatures could not be stopped. The chosen and their wizards were powerful indeed; they had managed to regroup and kill the dead around them without many losses. The numbers of dark elves and the Brotherhood had fallen, for they had not the means to fight this foe. The only one that could possibly know how to stop these creatures was the first to die without so much as a warning. I can only surmise that the appearance of these creatures is very deceptive, as they clearly posses intelligence. If not for the Gu’ardan wizards surely they would have gone down as quickly. The wizards cast spells destroying the dead, while the warriors made sure nothing could interrupt this channeling of magic. But the numbers of dead seemed endless as they poured forth without end and it wasn't long before the only thing remaining was a desert covered by death.
     "AMIANA!"
     He screamed her name, but it was to late…she was no more. Some who remained wondered around aimlessly desperately trying to escape the area. In all the confusion I managed to find a cave and have been here for many days without food or water; I am afraid I shall not last much longer. I pen my final words and shall hide this text within the ruins. I can not let my life’s work be lost. I can only hope that one day these journals shall find their way into the hands of the right people. The Gu’ardan shall return it is inevitable. They shall rise in great numbers and will live in this land preserving its future. Until such a time, I can only hope that the land and its people will find a way to fight these creatures. I grow tired, feeling very ill. I fear my end is near. I know not what awaits me, but I fear it. I can hear them coming closer…
#
     “Who are these Gu’ardan?”
     The knight looked up at the master healer.
     “Where are they, why have they not shown themselves? If there was ever a time we had need of their services, it is now.”
     The master healer flipped through the last few pages again, quickly glancing over some text and nodding. His expression changing from confusion to impatient excitement, as the words sink in.
     “Yes, yes. This is most interesting. What is of more importance at the moment is that there is a Queen! I do not believe it, yet there it is as clear as the waters of Lake Reise. Do you realize that if this text tells true, then we may very well have a way of ridding our lands of this vile plague?”
     The knight nodded awaiting the orders he most certainly was about to receive.
     “Now be quick knight, guard this text with your life and make haste. Deliver this to the King. He must know of this at once!”

Chapter 7 - Gu'ardan - Commencement

Wed, 27 Sep 2006 07:39:56 GMT

     The whispering was beginning to annoy Roncur as he sat in the silent hall of this strange place he had been brought to. Why was he even here? Roncur thought, why did he trust that stranger? Was it only because he was promised a great knowledge, or was it power that only few possessed? He didn't even know what it was he was called here for. Hours passed and the voices finally stopped.
     "Roncur Bisto, please enter the council room."
     A deep voice rang out from the halls. Roncur stood and approached the thick wooden doors. Slowly opening the doors he was suddenly hit by a cool breeze from within the enormous chamber. A large rectangular table stood on the opposite end, six hooded figures sat calmly waiting. The room was enormous, but was not dressed up with any fancy paintings or tapestries. For the most part it was empty with unlit torches hanging on the walls. It was difficult to make out any details accept for the single chair that stood in the center of the room. A guard motioned to him to enter and sit as he closed the doors behind him.
     The chair faced the large table at which he could barely make out the shape of six bodies. Cautiously, Roncur sat and began to nervously fidget his hands. The one seated farthest left made a slight waving motion with his hand and no sooner then he stopped a torch hanging on the wall behind Roncur sparked and began to burn, making the dark room seem more alive. ‘Could this be hell?’ The thought passed though Roncurs mind. Again he heard the deep voice.
     "Do not fear young one, 'not trouble you have found…and certainly not hell."
     A look of surprise and relief was visible on Roncurs face now. He melted into the chair he sat in and began to breathe calmly.
     "This council is the highest rank in our society, save for them."
     "Them? Them?" Roncur whispered to himself but remained quite. ‘I wonder who “them” are?’ The familiar voice from the council again opened up, "Not a concern for you young one, please remain silent so we may begin." After a short but seemingly uncomfortable pause...
     “You have been brought here to join the ranks of hundreds more like you. And like you they have been chosen because they show potential to be among the most elite. You will no doubt think that this carries some high rank or great rewards, but do not be fooled by the knowledge we will teach you. If you complete the academy you will be joined by one other. The both of you will from that moment become a single unit. You will then be given highly important missions, shadowed only by the life you will be responsible for protecting…at all costs. Except if need be, you will only have communication with two other units. Aside from your group you will be known to no other. You will receive no victory celebrations, your duty will be to serve a greater good. The only rewards you may find, are those that you have from personal gain and advancement. Your training will be extensive and difficult. It is important to keep your mind on your purpose and you just may succeed.”
     Roncur nodded in understanding, yet feeling overwhelmed.
     “Now go, you will be directed to your living quarters. Do not squander away this evening, for it will be the last peaceful night you will have for years to come.”
#
     The blade made a swift downward arc on a course to Roncurs' neck. The instructor was once a Gu'ardan himself, who completed his commission and was given the opportunity to remain as a master trainer. If this had been an actual battle Roncur would have lost his head, but Virquin had been holding back. He certainly couldn't eliminate a new initiate before he had a chance to prove himself. Roncur leapt back quickly barely avoiding the razor sharp edge…then quickly brought up his sword to parry the return swing. Virquin grinned at the young lad, knowing very well, he could have dismissed him any time he wanted. He could see errors in every move Roncur made, openings even the slightly experienced swordsman could exploit.
     "Very good lad, you display potential. Yet there be still much work to be done with yah, but that's what I'm here for. This has been a long day and 'tis only the first of many more to come. Now go and get yourself some rest, and we will continue come first light."
     Roncur turned and walked in the direction of his room, to weak to even lift his sword as it made a grinding noise along the ground. He couldn’t help but wonder what exactly could Virquin have possibly meant by rest, given that only three hours remained until sunrise. None the less, he was determined to make it the most restfull three hours anyone has ever had. And so with renewed vigor he finally managed to raise the sword high enough to lay it upon the table and without delay become one with the bed, sinking his head into the pillow…fast asleep.
     The first few months had been very difficult for Roncur, he was subject to many difficult and life threatening tests. A period that determines and singles out the best and most qualified of the chosen. Those not as resolute had their tongues fixed in place through magic so as never to reveal anything they may have learned of the society…if they survived their training that is. It was a high price to pay for failure, and from what I gather not indicated at the orientation.
     One day I was called to a small building by the church, when I approached the guards nodded to me, most likely expecting my arrival as they let me pass and enter. Inside I saw only three. One was certainly a priest of some form, gathering by his colorful robes with various symbols matching those carved into the wall beyond the alter. Next to the priest stood a woman…beautiful as the petals of a rose she was. They paid no attention to my presence as I quietly sat down to observe what it was I had been summoned for. They stood in front of a young lad. His back was to me, so I was not able to make out his face. He was nodding his head as they spoke to him, yet they must have been whispering as I could not hear what was said. After a few moments passed they stopped talking and there was a brief silence. Suddenly the priest raised his hand slightly and spoke in a tongue foreign to me.
     “Per silentium vos vadum teneo pacis.”
     It was precisely at the moment he finished talking that I realized the woman is a mage. She lowered her head and began chanting, though it was in hushed tones and I know not what was said. I felt a slight chill pass through me as she continued chanting and suddenly the boy was jolted by some force and almost fell to the ground, but the priest caught his arm. The young lad got his bearings, turned and walked out. His face seemed calm, yet his eyes displayed sadness. I could not resist, I jumped from my seat.
     “What has happened, what did you do to him?” The priest, he looked at me with a firm stare.
     “You are a guest here, maintain yourself.”
     “Forgive me sir.”
     I apologized in the most sincere tone I could muster at the moment. The priest looked me over thoughtfully.
     “Very well.” He paused another brief moment.
     “What you have witnessed is called the Gentle Silence.” ‘Not very gentle in appearance.’ I thought. “We go through great length to maintain our secrecy. Even your role here will be maintained in secrecy. You records will be made available only to the highest of ranks, because a time will come when the call for our society will be needed. As you have seen so far, we take great measures in training only the very best. There is no room for failure among us. Do not judge us though, for this is just the simple fact of who we are. Unfortunately even those that we find to be of great potential sometimes fail to follow in that path and if they choose to be discharged we perform this ceremony to render their tongue useless. Since we do not teach them to write until they have obtained a certain rank, they will have no means for disclosing the knowledge of our society.” I was about to ask a question when he interrupted me.
     “And our location…well…let me just say that you can not find, that which you can not see.”

Ambrahka World Map

Fri, 22 Sep 2006 11:13:30 GMT

Ambrahka consists of 5 Kingdoms. The map below is the World map. I will also be adding Kingdom maps as I make them.The 5 Kingdoms are:

Kingdom of Granai
Kingdom of Suomron
Kingdom of Tundrei
Kingdom of Rodnak
Kingdom of Monhar

Click anywhere on the image to see a larger view.

Chapter 6 - Gu'ardan - Coming Of A New Age

Thu, 21 Sep 2006 14:29:36 GMT

The view of a prophet
     My name is Jerhuar Morvik, I have spent the better part of my life creating these journals. Now I finalize these notes and can finally rest. After completing my apprenticeship under the guidance of the master Wizard, Vi'Akyran, I began documenting events in the lives of the Gu’ardan. A following almost as old as men…for centuries they have been picked at an early age and approached when deemed necessary to train in the skills only attainable by those with the highest level of dedication. It is only through these journals that those beyond my existence, other then the chosen, will ever have any knowledge of this society. To those that read my text, let it be known, for whe…*the rest of the introductory text is to faded to read*
#
Temple of the Chosen in Granai
     "Yes my liege, we found this poor soul about 500 paces from the old ruins in the North Tahirah dessert. Apparently he was running from something and got lost. He had this on him. He appeared to be clutching it close as if to keep it away from someone."…Forre holds out what appears to be a journal. It looks to be ages old and the pages remaining reflect it. "Very interesting." Hmmms the healer. "Let us see what this poor soul was protecting with his life"
#
Courage
     Roncur Bisto stood overlooking the battle field. The air was stale with the scent of death, bodies littered the sand, as the rain poured on, almost as a reminder of how the elements had been against him. The persistent rain covered the tears that threatened to fall from Roncurs eyes, as the once proud warrior stood atop a muddy dune overlooking the field. The armor that gleamed in the sunlight now bore heavy battle marks and it's color was that of dirt and blood. "AMIANA!" Roncur screamed out into the now silent field. "WHERE ARE YOU!?" Had he failed he thought. "What is to become of me now? I have lost my charge and the only one I had ever loved in this world." Roncur ran into the ocean of bodies and searched and searched. All he could find was a small pack that she carried herbs in. He slowly raised the bag to his face and began to cry into it. He dropped to the ground and remained there motionless for the remainder of the day.
#
     As large a society this is, I have requested to shadow one of their new recruits and record his days as he embarks on his new journey. They have only given me limited information regarding their ranks, purpose, and methods. The council members are always dressed in heavy robes, with the hoods draped low over their faces, so it is difficult to make out their appearance. However, I must say that given the scaly appearance of their hands they are most certainly not of human decent. At the same time the texture and color does not look like that of the more lighter shades and smoother contours of the lizard people living in the Tahirah desert. Yes, yes, I have seen these creatues and they are most remarkable. In fact the scales of these creatures more closely resembles that of the dragon. How strange this does seem though, dragons have on very rare occasions been spotted. The only real evidence of their existence is the large piece of dragon scale that is kept at the Temple in Zalpei. Some actually believe that it contains some form of magic. Of course this actually is accepted by many because no one knows the true origins of the dragon race, and most bed time stories contain some version of how these creatures were created by a magic more powerful then anyone can possibly imagine. I think while I await the council decision, I will tell my favorite story about the birth of dragons.
#
     You see there was this young man who was born with a gift. He had the ability to heal others with mere words. His chants closed wounds and mended broken bones. People would travel far for his aid. Well, when he came of age he left home and vowed that he would spend his days traveling the lands providing help to those in need. During his travels he met many different people and gave his help freely never charging for his services. All he ever asked for was a place to lay his head at night and a warm meal to fill his stomach. One day he came upon a great castle and he went forth to offer his services. Though, to his surprise he was met with fear and hate. The ruler of the land he was on was very paranoid, and all strangers were met with great suspicion. Naturally with such power he was seen as a threat and taken before the king. The king accused him of planning crimes against the throne. The healer pleaded with the king, promising that his mission is only that of a healer and he has no desires for aggression or criminal acts against the king. But being the paranoid ruler that he was, he ordered the healer to be taken to the dungeons where he would spend his days awaiting his execution. As the guards escorted him out of the thrown room his eyes met with the eyes of a beautiful lady. She smiled at him and at that first sight they both fell instantly in love. In all his travels, off all the people he has met, he has never laid eyes upon anyone so lovely.
     That night she came to him in the dungeon and told him of how seeing him made her feel. She told him that she has heard tales of him and has always dreamed meeting someone with as kind a heart. But living under the rule of her fathers paranoia made it impossible for her to travel, so she feared she would never have the chance to meet him. Her plan was to plead with her father to allow them to marry. The next day the king himself came to the dungeon with guards in tow and grabbed him from the cell. As they led him out to the court yard, the king angrily told him that he would not have his daughter marry a heretic. He told him that this disgrace will be punishable by death. When they reached the courtyard he was lead up to a platform with two guiottines. To his surprise he saw the kings daughter standing there, next to one of the guiottines. As it turns out the king was much more paranoid then anyone had ever imagined. Thinking his daughter to be in league with the healer, he ordered both to their deaths. Well this made him very mad. He had never known such anger. At seeing this lunacy he decided that he would not let this be. He would free them and make it so that no one could ever be able to hurt them or break their bond. He began to chant and words in a strange tongue came from his mouth. He did not know how this was happening, but only that his desire to be with her and the strength of his love was so strong that his powers had opened new abilities for him. As he continued to chant his eyes started to glow blood red. The shackles fell from his arms and legs and his left hand reach out towards hers and they gripped their hands firmly. Suddenly the ground started to shake and in a blinding flash both of them were gone…no where to be seen again. Some people say they saw two large flying creatures soaring in the horizon. This is why dragons are so rarely seen. They are creatures bound by love and honor, and the only time you might ever have the fortune to see one, is when they take flight on the anniversary of the first, to honor them.
#
     I really do not know why their meeting to discuss my request required two days, but my guess is that they had other plans for how I would record what it is that goes on here. When they finally called me back to meet with them, they told me that their selection process started by observing children who’s fathers were skilled in combat. If the boy showed promise, at the age of twelve they would approach the family and make arrangements to enroll the child in their academy. The way they described it, it almost seems as though the families never know the true nature of this “academy”. However, there were occasions when older men were recruited that showed great skill in combat, but were never observed due to being from a family with no background in combat. Of course there were many more factors involved in deciding who would be approached. I was not given the privilege to learn these. They instructed me that I was to make my way to the orientation chamber, where I will find a young boy awaiting his introduction to his new life.

Chapter 5 - The Realm written by Ron - Prologue

Tue, 19 Sep 2006 06:38:18 GMT

King Gerald turned away from the open window in the castle’s meeting chamber. Below in the courtyard, a roar and the pounding of thousands of hooves signaled the end of the General Cheivalt’s speech. “Our soldiers ride to war,” commented King Gerald quietly.

“Aye, they do,” responded the wizard Zaroth from the chair in which he patiently sat. “As they must.”

King Gerald sat in the chair opposite the wizard. “Why the deception, Zaroth? You know very well that there exists not another set of the Tomes of Arcane. That knowledge is not in books. It is in people.”

The wizard Zaroth measured the young king with his eyes. King Gerald had been crowned only five years previously at the young age of sixteen. Already the hardship of ruling had manifested itself upon the King. Gerald’s normally vibrant eyes were dull with fatigue and stress. Creases had formed upon his forehead and his hands often clasped each other in nervousness.

“It was necessary,” related Zaroth to King Gerald. “We need to lure in the enemies responsible in order to discover who it is we are up against.”

“Need I remind you we are a kingdom an eighth of the size of our neighbors, surrounded on all sides by potential enemies?” King Gerald asked, agitated.

“We have the means to defend ourselves if necessary,” the wizard assured. “For now we will stomp around our lands raising up our army and making lots of noise. We will turn our enemy’s eyes upon us. While they are distracted, the true work can begin.”

King Gerald slowly sighed and rubbed his temples tiredly. “You refer to this ‘Guardan’ of yours.”

“Do not mistake secrecy for lack of trust or discretion,” replied the wizard kindly. “Secrecy is necessary for the balance of powers and politics.”

“Tell me of the Guardan again, Zaroth.”
The wizard nodded. “Very well. The story relates to the beginning of recorded history about a thousand years ago. The bits and pieces we were able to learn of the ancient past drew a picture of chaos and war. The greed for power led to destruction and catastrophe on a global scale. The forces under the control of warring factions were left unchecked. War consumed the entire land until there was literally nothing left. What followed for the next hundred or so years is virtually unknown. No written records exist. Eventually, small bands of the descendants of survivors joined together. Written history was again established.”

King Gerald nodded impatiently. The history of his own kingdom was one very well known to him.

“The work of rebuilding was tediously slow,” continued Zaroth. “For over two hundred years towns and eventually cities were built. Temples were erected. The population slowly began to increase. Commerce and trade flourished. Right around year 250, the secrets of the arts of destruction were uncovered in the ruins of an ancient city. A dozen tomes were recovered. In each were detailed the arts of the arcane – from novice to master. The tomes ranged from evocation, destruction, and conjuration; arts of illusion, necromancy, and restoration. A brief struggle for power ensued; brief yet devastating in the cost of lives and property. Suddenly it was all too understood how the world could have been turned to ruin.”

Pausing to sip his brandy, Zaroth continued. “Tribal leaders from all over the known lands were called to a summit at Zalpei. There, inside a great temple built to celebrate the glory of the gods, a peaceful treaty was established. The lands were divided equally into four kingdoms. The fifth, our kingdom, was placed directly in the center of the land. It was agreed upon that the knowledge contained in the Tomes of the Arcane were too dangerous to be left free. Yet those present could not bring themselves to destroy the knowledge outright. Instead they were entombed beneath the Temple at Zalpei to be secreted away from the public eye. If need arose they could be uncovered; they contained the arcane knowledge of war and of defense. Our kingdom was assigned protectors of the realm. It was decided we would never partake in the politics of the land; instead we would always remain neutral, a sacred haven for those to seek sanctuary within.”

King Gerald nodded his head knowingly. “Aye, wizard. And since that time magic, the arcane, has been largely absent from the earth.”

Zaroth smiled cryptically at the King’s words. “So it would seem my liege. Unbeknownst to all but a select few, a secret society was formed during the time of the Accord. This society, concerned that the magic would one day be unearthed, took measures to prepare against that day. In secret, only six of the Tomes of Arcane were sealed in the temple’s crypt. These were the six most destructive tomes, the ones that taught how to forge weapons of destruction, how to enchant metal with magic, how to animate the dead and end the life of the living. Gone unchecked, this magic would again ravage the world into ruin. In balance, the second tomes taught of healing and of knowledge; how to defend and shield against the powers of destruction. Thus six of the tomes were secreted away and held in secret against the day that magic would be needed. The society entrusted to defend and maintain that knowledge was called the Guardan.”

King Gerald leaned forwards in his chair, a look of frustration upon his face. “What is it they do? Who are their leaders? How does it work? Help me understand, Zaroth. If ever we had need of such a society, it is now.”

Slowly Zaroth nodded his head, heeding his king’s words. “Aye, Gerald. I will tell you what I can. For you see, no one person has all the knowledge of what, or who, the Guardan are. The council of the Guardan was comprised of two scholars from each of the four kingdoms, and one scholar from our kingdom, the fifth. The council’s first act was to send each of the six tomes that were saved to different locations throughout the land. There, the tomes were studied cover to cover by two scholars who memorized the content and the lessons. After the volumes were memorized, they were destroyed; burned. From that moment on the knowledge contained within the destroyed tomes would be passed on from generation to generation. No one person would have the knowledge of all the tomes; each tome was taught to several people in each generation to ensure the knowledge was passed on.

“So the Guardan are scholars throughout the lands who have knowledge of the ancient Tomes of Arcane,” King Gerald summarized.
“You are partially correct. The Guardan needed more than scholars. A second group was formed, comprised of highly specialized warriors. Each unit consisted of a team of two people. In turn that team was assigned the protection of one scholar.

“How are the Guardan warriors chosen?” King Gerald asked.
“They are not chosen as much as groomed. Many are selected from birth or at a very young age. They are taught how to fight, how to defend, how to kill. All can speak the languages of each kingdom. They are taught how to infiltrate, how to blend in. They know the history and customs of each land. They are proficient with martial arts, with bladed weapons, with bows and crossbows. You see, the scholars know by heart the knowledge contained within the tome they were entrusted with. Yet only the Guardan can teach a scholar how to apply their knowledge; use their magic.”
Zaroth paused with a thoughtful look. He continued, “It is a self sustaining system, my liege. A web – a network – was formed. Each pair of Guardan knows of only two other pairs of Guardan: one that they relay orders to and one that they accept orders from. No pair of Guardan knows of the whole network. Commands are passed down one branch and come up another. Even the council has been fractured. No member knows the names of the entire Council of Nine.”

King Gerald sat speechless as he attempted to grasp what he had learned. Bewildered, the king asked, “For seven hundred years this has existed?” Zaroth nodded sagely. “For seven hundred years, from generation to generation. The Guardan’s purpose is the preservation of peace. They are used to protect the arcane knowledge – both what was hidden away and what was preserved through the teaching of generations.”

“What happened?” King Gerald demanded. “Who has stolen the Tomes of the Arcane? How did they know where they were? Did some of the Guardan turn to the dark arts? Has the council been compromised?”

Zaroth swallowed, suddenly appearing fearful. “I don’t know,” he confided to the King in a soft voice. He then straightened and regained his control. “However we intend to find out.”

“You are on the Guardan council. Admit it,” King Gerald demanded.
“I admit it freely to you only, my liege.”
“Tell me what is being done, Zaroth.”
Zaroth abruptly stood and paced to the window. “We still do not know who it is we are up against. However we have an idea of what they will do next, now that they have the Tomes of the Arcane. The Guardan Council has already taken action; the wheel is in motion. Guardan around all kingdoms are being summoned to arms. At all speed. They must proceed at all speed!”

“To what end, Zaroth? What transpires?”

Zaroth turned slowly from the window, his face drained of color. The wizard’s eyes met the eyes of his king. “The scholars. Whoever has stolen the Tomes of Arcane is going to kill the scholars.”

Chapter 4 - The Realm written by Ron - Prologue

Fri, 15 Sep 2006 08:37:19 GMT

“The significance of this day cannot be understated,” shouted the general to the gathered cavalry. “For hundreds of years – nearly a thousand – it has been this precise moment we have endeavored to avoid. Everything we have accomplished, every life lost, every sacrifice of our people was all for our common purpose: to avoid our Kingdom’s involvement in a world’s war.”

The general Cheivalt paused a moment to reflect as he gazed upon the attentive faces of King Gerald’s army. The year was 1023, precisely seven hundred and fifty years since the Accord at Zalpei. “For those hundreds of years,” continued Cheivalt as he paced along the lines of troops, his eyes meeting the attentive gazes of those he passed, “it has been our duty to be the guardians of a dire secret. It has been our place to stand in neutrality between the great kingdoms to our north, south, east and west. It has been our responsibility to maintain the peace of the lands, to prevent our world from deteriorating into chaos and war. We did this knowing that if the need arose we could use that which we have protected the world against to stop those who would bring war to our lands before any damage was done.”

Cheivalt paused, his gaze melancholy and serious. “Now that opportunity is lost. As you have undoubtedly learned, the Temple in Zalpei has been sacked. Forbidden and dangerous knowledge that had been locked away has been stolen and revealed. The four Great Kingdoms, once allied peacefully with one another, have turned against each other. Each are convinced that the others are responsible and covet this great power for themselves. Already war has come again to our world.”

A sea of murmurs met this announcement. Restless horses stamped their feet as their riders struggled to understand the consequence of this terrible news.

“We have always been the peacekeepers of our world,” assured Cheivalt. “That is not going to change. Our purpose here is to not go forth and conquer, but to defend ourselves from those who would bring aggression. For you see there are those who believe we have orchestrated these events. Old hatred and pure greed clouds the judgment of our neighbors. We must have time to unravel the mystery of who is truly behind this. We must have time to restore peace to our land. Woe to us all if we were to fail.”

Cheivalt’s eyes shone as a small smile crept upon his lips. “Many of you have dedicated your entire lives training for this moment. Let me assure you that your sacrifice to duty is not without purpose. For against this improbable and tragic day have contingencies been prepared. Unknown to our enemies, only half the Tomes of the Arcane were stored within the vaults beneath the Temple at Zalpei. We have the means to strike back at our faceless enemies. Brave soldiers, I call upon you to defend our lands. Patrol our borders and keep our people safe. Allow us the time we need to restore the balance that has been shattered. Show us that our faith in you is not misplaced. Demonstrate your honor and duty. Now is your time! Make your kingdom proud. We ride onwards to victory!”

About Ambrahka

Thu, 14 Sep 2006 10:34:48 GMT

OMG, it's been pretty hectic. My work has kept me pretty busy and I have barely had any time to even read blogs, so I probably have some catching up to do. Anyhow, it seems there might be some confusion regarding the Ambrahka story line so I thought I'd post an explanation of what's going on.

I came up with a history of the land in the form of a timeline. The history consists of 2 separate time periods that I think can be best described by comparing to the real worlds Lost City of Atlantis. And no this was not an inspiration, I just thought of it . There is no real connection to the first 260 years of Ambrahka. There have never been any remains of people found that could be said to have come from that first 260 years. All the knowledge that exists of this time period has been established by scholars who have come to various conclusions based on findings at the ruins of an ancient building. Following this first 260 years there was a period for which there are absolutely no accounts and people can only speculate as to what went on. Finally a new civilization evolved which remained on the land. The first story I posted was about the first 260 years, which of course is not known to the people of Ambrahka, as well as many points in the timeline. A lot of this information is for the readers reference. Now, where the timeline ends at the "present", is where the real story will take place. My friend who is co-writing with me, has written a prologue for the present which I will be posting next. This story will reference a society that I will then post a story about with a bit more background. After this we will probably post bios for our characters. At this point everything should be in place and we will move forward with the rest. I have also purchased a program that is designed to draw maps specifically for this type of fantasy setting. I'm currently making a map of the land which I will post when completed. Then I will also make more detailed maps of each Kingdom in more detail.

I hope this helps clear things up. But please don't hesitate to ask questions if something doesn't make sense. And constructive critisicm is more then welcome as well as suggestions.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read these stories and I hope you enjoy reading them as much as we enjoy writing them.

Chapter 3 - History Of The Realm - The Artifact

Fri, 08 Sep 2006 08:14:17 GMT

Since leaving the safety of Castle Granai, Razok spent every day in the shadows. He traveled by day, and hid by night, for he knew that were he to be captured he would be killed or exploited for the same purpose as his quest, but for much more terrifying reasons. Because of his loyalty to his King, he had faith in the Kings decision to second guess the warning he had given. He made himself believe that if an honorable man possessed the artifact with peaceful motivations, then there would be hope. So he pressed on, day after day, month after month, year upon year. Razok had put together a map based on his finding that he believed would lead him to the artifact. Though, when he reached the place he thought to find it, it was not to be. So he kept adjusting his estimates of the location, until finally on the fourth year of his quest he came upon a cave in the Crea Mountains. Upon the entrance to the cave he found strange markings carved around the rocks. One of the markings depicted what appeared to be some type of stone with a glow around it. So he set forth into the cave.

Razok spent a long time inside that cave. What went on there no one really knows. Many stories have been told, many different versions of each story and many legends written. Still no one knows for certain what went on. One thing that was for sure, was that Razok left the cave a different man, and he left the cave with the artifact. As the most accepted legend goes, he brought the artifact back to King Sholo. By this time the King had become very ill and remained in his bed since the day he returned from the Lower Darkwoods. Never had he spoken one word, never had he given anymore orders. When Razok came to his side, the King saw that he held the artifact and with his last breath pleaded for forgiveness.

While no one may ever really know what truly happened, it is said that through the possession of the artifact Razok had a vision and through this vision he learned what he must do. Razok created a set of scrolls which today are believed to be one and the same set residing at the Temple in Zalpei. He then broke the artifact into piece, ground the pieces into dust and ingested it. Some people say that through this Razok attained a knowledge that allowed him to manipulate the elements of the lands. They say that it was with Razok that magic found it’s way to this world. The legend goes on to say that every living being fell ill and within a months time all had died and the land was cleansed.

Chapter 2 - History Of The Realm - The Great Discord

Tue, 05 Sep 2006 15:46:10 GMT

A great war raged on, as the King committed his efforts and his armies to battle against the forces that would take his thrown and rule the land as they saw fit. But it stopped being about defeating them, and became a way to keep them occupied and disoriented while the King’s true goal could be accomplished when the artifact would arrive in his hands. He knew no other path, but that of taking control of that which his enemies would use against him. He spared no resources to make certain his victory; for he knew that his failure would result in a ruler that would bring darkness to the land. Yet somewhere in the back of his mind he felt a slight anxiety from the warnings that Razok had left him with. Still he felt he was doing the right thing, and he believed that his motivations justified his actions. Year after year, the war raged on as men, women and children were sent into battle only to die in the name of something that was unknown to them. The fighting spanned all the land and not a soul was sparred.

One day the a messenger arrived at the castle gates and requested an audience with the King. Upon being granted his request, he wasted no time in delivering a very disturbing message. Somehow Lord Jarlock managed to capture King Sholo’s only son Prince Robert. Lord Jarlock was the leader of the People’s Coalition and self proclaimed ruler of the Northern Lands. He was the first to learn of the existence of the artifact and so was able to build an army to rival that of the King. There were many others with such titles and armies, but none had as many numbers as King Sholo and Lord Jarlock. And so they all battled among each other and occasionally becoming a nuisance to the two great armies of the land, and were mostly ignored. Lord Jarlock demanded a meeting with the King to discuss his total surrender in return for his son. King Sholo, however torn kept his sights on the most important goal as he saw it, and that was the attainment of the artifact. For that was the one true path, as he believed, to bringing peace to the land. The King decided he would go and meet Lord Jarlock, but not to surrender, instead he would attempt to kill him and possibly end the war. The meeting was to take place beyond the Granai Mountains on the border of the Lower Darkwoods, the passage to the Northern Lands. With a 1000 men, King Sholo made his way to the Lower Darkwoods. Though when they arrived, there was no sign of Lord Jarlock or any of his men. There was only one sign, the sign of hopelessness, at the site of Prince Robert’s motionless body hanging by a noose. Out of rage King Sholo ordered 900 of his men to move on into the Northern Lands and raze every village with sympathizers of Lord Jarlock. His loyal men accepted without question and set off, never to be heard from again, while King Sholo and the 100 remaining men, made their way back to the castle, where the King lay silently for the remainder of his days.

Ambrahka Update

Tue, 05 Sep 2006 13:38:24 GMT

Ok, I updated the timeline and chapter 1. There aren't many changes, but they are there. I also added a list for easy chapter access on the left side. Thanks for the suggestion Colleen.

Chapter 1 - History Of The Realm - The Failure of Men

Sun, 27 Aug 2006 14:15:38 GMT

It would seem that the land had never known a time without war or corruption. It is said that even before the Great Discord the people of the land knew no peace. While some cities attempted to stay neutral they were not safe from those that would take all they could. King Sholo the Third who ruled from the great city of Granai could do nothing to prevent the darkness that had befallen the lands as far back as anyone could remember. Something drove these small armies to conquer and raze village after village, town after town

While vast, the King’s army could do no more then keep those that would do harm to the people of the land at bay and prolong their inevitable strike to the castle and usurping the throne. But, King Sholo knew what was responsible; he knew what the reason for this never ending turmoil was. Razok, the wisest of his advisors had told him of an artifact that was the creation of the Gods themselves, and placed on Ambrahka to tempt and test those that were of the land. He told him that there was no solid proof of this artifact, only the scrolls that had been passed down through generations which through riddles and suggestion led Razok to his conclusion. Of course while proud of his wisdom, Razok knew that he was not the only one in the land that could have possibly discovered this and that those that were also able to understand the writings would be tempted by the artifact and what it would mean to control it. Razok assured King Sholo that this was the reason behind the constant fighting. Those that learn of it, want to posses it, and this is the test of the Gods.

They would not bring an easy way of life, it would have to be earned. The idea, Razok had spoke of, was that men be honorable and respect that which belongs to the Gods, and would be as one on the land worshipping the same Gods. However, those that turn to evil and desire to hold the power for themselves, would be considered a failure to the race of people living on the land and would diminish to the earth from which they came. King Sholo believed Razok, but he was not able to put any faith into the conclusion that Razok was predicting. For to long, for much to many years has this been going on, and these armies just grow bigger. And so it came to be that King Sholo made a decision that in order to preserve the land and bring peace, he would have to be the one to possess the artifact.

Razok had warned King Sholo against these actions, begged him to be patient. But patience he had no more and with a heavy heart, ordered Razok to locate this artifact and bring it to him. And with that, on the eighth month of the two hundred forty-sixth year, the last of the honorable souls was corrupt and the failure of men had come.

History Of The Realm - Ambrahka Timeline

Sat, 26 Aug 2006 01:30:17 GMT

Year 0 – 260: The first 260 years leading up to the Great Discord were wrought with tyranny and war.

Years 1 – 99: The Age of Silence. There is no record of this time period. The common belief is that the early stages of life on Ambrahka were establishing their place in the land.

Year 100: Discovery of ancient scrolls depicting 260 years of turmoil.

Year 101: At the age of 19, King Sholo the Fourth establishes rule in Castle Granai, claiming to be a descendant of King Sholo the Third.

Year 102: Influenced by the ancient scroll text, King Sholo sets forth the naming of all known cities of Ambrahka.

Year 103: Loyal knights of King Sholo are selected to become Lords and each to reign over his domain; that being every known city and neighboring territories.

Year 104: Due to rise of crimes against humanity, King Sholo establishes a justice system and designates the city of Tunakra in the Northern Lands a penal colony.

Year 105: 1 son is born to King Sholo.

Years 106 – 120: The land and the people enjoy a peaceful and fair life under the rule of King Sholo.

Year 121: Lord Vulgran of Tunakra, unhappy with his appointment as Lord of the prison colony, forms an army of criminals and marches on Castle Granai. No match for the Kings’ army, Lord Vulgran is spared and allowed to continue his command over Tunakra.

Year 122: King Sholo orders an official exploration party of 15 to map all regions of the land.

Year 140: 5 members of the original exploration party return. They tell stories of unimaginable horrors. They also tell tales of a man performing feats not believable to the human eye, calling it the arcane as they had heard it referenced. They also recorded findings of strange creatures which do not appear human, but were intelligent and hospitable.

Year 141: King Sholo intrigued by the tales of magic, orders that this unusual man be located and brought before him.

Year 143: Word spreads that a band of thieves and murderers have established a clan and begin to spread injustice. King Sholo organizes special militia units to locate and kill any that are members of such clans.

Year 144: A man named Razok appears in the Kings court claiming to be the mage he seeks. He offered his services to the King freely and an academy of magic was established.

Year 145: Without the Kings knowledge, Razok establishes a secret society with the goal of training specialized warriors, with a primary purpose of protecting his pupils. Razok set forth a secondary purpose to carry out tasks that require secrecy from the King.

Year 150: King Sholo learns of Razoks’ plans and demands that all activity be stopped and any underground society be eliminated. Knowing the importance of his plans, Razok arranges for a race of highly intelligent creatures, from who he learned his magic, to take over what he had begun. And so came the establishment of the Guardan. Razok arranged for this race of creatures to train and prepare scholars and warriors for a time not yet upon the lands.

Year 175: King Sholo the Fourth dies of old age.

Year 176 – 249: Society and culture change and adapt as magic reaches all corners of the land. Various races of creatures both good and evil, take claim of certain areas of the land and begin to interact with the humans.

Year 250: Exploration of excavated ruins leads to discovery of 12 tomes of destruction. All kingdoms commit efforts to control these tomes and posses the knowledge contained within.

Year 273: After more then 2 decades of war, the kingdoms agree to a truce. The Accord at Zalpei becomes a crucial turning point in the history of the land. 5 kingdoms are erected. To maintain a balance of power, 4 kingdoms would rule the land equally, allowed only enough numbers of knights for local peacekeeping. The 5^th kingdom was not allowed any participation in the laws and politics of the land. They would act as a military to oversee the protection of the realm. Known only to a select few, a secret society called the Guardan becomes active.

The years pass as all races and cultures establish themselves.

Year 1018: King Gerald crowned at the age of 16.

Year 1023: The present…6 sacred Tomes are stolen from the Temple in Zalpei. The land is on the verge of a great war for those that posses the knowledge of the Tomes can lay siege to the lands with but only a towns militia.

Ambrahka History in-progress

Thu, 24 Aug 2006 21:09:16 GMT

I was concerened that I may not be able to come up with a history but I actually did write 3 small chapters. I just need to go over it and make sure I like the way it is. It's a first draft, so it may change over time.

Tales Of The Burning Heart

Wed, 23 Aug 2006 09:31:21 GMT

Well it's been a few months since I've started this blog and one of my main reasons was to have a home for my stories. And so, three months later, I still have not posted any. I guess one of the reasons was that I didn't have any visitors to my blog, so there was no one to share them with. I still don't have all that many visitors, but I do have some traffic, so I was thinking that I will start moving forward with posting my stories. But first I wanted to give a little background to what these stories are about, who my main character is and what is Ambrahka.

I guess to paint a clear picture I need to go way back to the very beginning. And no, it's not what you're thinking, I am not going to blame my parents for anything. The origin of my character can be traced back to 7th grade and good 'ol D&D. That's Dungeons and Dragons, pen and paper role playing game, for those that do not know. In short, you create a character, and a DM (dungeon master) takes you and your friends with their characters through a story, in which you make decisions as a team in order to progress, win battles and complete the story module. The whole time you stay in character and role play your actions and conversations. Well there was this name that I really liked from a cartoon of that time based on D&D. So it wasn't a tough decision to name my character Dekkion. Dekkion became my alter ego if you will and we went through many challenges. Eventually I started writing my own modules that I would DM for. My friends really enjoyed my stories and that was the beginning of my love for writing.

After a few years gaming started to take a back seat. I guess as we grew older we didn't have the same desire to game as much, but on occassion we would still get together for a game. But as life continued becoming more complicated and new priorities came up, gaming pretty much came to an end. But I always remembered those days and how much fun it was to imagine yourself in a fantasy realm prettending to be someone you're not. That actually helped with dating a lot! But that's another story. Anyway, there came a time when computer technology started to really take off and video games took on a whole new life. With this came a new type of game called an MMORPG, which stands for massively multiplayer online role playing game. Taking the concept of D&D, adding computer graphics, a bunch of quests and a virtual world for hundres of people to connect to and role play. People started forming guilds, and all these guilds had their own agendas, but mostly it was the gathering of like minded people to pursue the same goals. I had met some people from a guild that were dedicated to role playing and I joined them. This guild was called The Burning Heart. It was at this time that my writing really took off. We would have in game role play events, and then we would write stories to post about our characters. No surprise, but my character name was Dekkion. Except here I decided to give him a last name, and so Dekkion Darkmoore was born. It was really fun to watch my character grow. I mean, through all our role playing and story writing, my character virtually took on a life of his own and changed just like a person would in real life over the years. Where was I going with this? Oh yes...Eventually I moved on, but I had this huge collection of stories and the makings for a novel. If I ever got around to it. Though somehow it nevers seems to happen. Last year though, I came up with an idea to make my own world and re-write my stories to take place there. Plus there were, and still are a lot of gaps, so it will be a while. The name I came up with for the world is Ambrahka, pronounced Ambra-ja. As for the name of the book...originally I thought of calling it Tales Of The Burning Heart, but if I ever do write this book, I may change that. So as time permits I will be making modifications to the stories that I have and posting them. I don't have a history for this land, so that's something I'm going to have to figure out. In general, it's a midievil fantasy type of setting with magic, knights, various supernatural creatures such as dragons, and other elements that make up a fantasy realm.

If I can come up with something for the history of the land I will post that first. If I find it taking to long, I will just go forward with character profile and then to the stories. I can always post the history of Ambrahka at a later time.

So, thank you for taking the time to read this and the stories I will be posting. I hope you enjoy them!