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Chapter 5: The Chasm of Derelima

“I suggest we travel to the land of Thornhelm,” said Flamecrest, “After all, the steward, Rofan, is said to be an acceptable, temporary replacement for Anrhys while he aids in the resistance against Vildrin’s forces, and Thornhelm is one of the safest kingdoms I know of.” Indeed, Thornhelm was an extremely fortified kingdom and Rofan was an “acceptable, temporary replacement”, but it was a kingdom of paranoia and the people were scared. “Safe! Thornhelm is nothing but a kingdom of cowardice, when did they ever come to help Darromane at Aovus Creek?” said Talonmaw. “Since when did Anrhys care about the safety of other kingdoms? Since when did Anrhys ever come for us when we were rotting in Thunder Hold? Since when did Anrhys care about Athrin?” “Thaygo, that is enough!” scolded Xeleoth.”I agree with both you and Flamecrest but we have no choice. Howlveil is too near the Wastelands of White Blood, Messorfrost hates all “southerners”, Remnoth is ashes, and Astermound and Netherwind are under the rule of Vildrin!” said Xeleoth. “Flamecrest can predict what is to come through her magic and I respect her judgement. Remember, Vildrin has put a price at our heads, and he’ll do everything he can to get them on top of a stake. Don’t forget, Aried will need the tender care of his grandfather if he accepts him for adoption and we are in the presence of the Stone-Carrier. If Vildrin gets a hold of the Gem, he’ll unleash indescribable destruction on the world.” Everyone else agreed with Flamecrest to go to Thornhelm, including Thaygo, even if he thought Anrhys was not to be trusted. However, they had an obstacle that they were not aware, for it was formed by Vildrin while they were stuck in Thunder Hold. Vildrin created it himself with his incredible power, the Chasm of Derelima. A dreaded realm of both evil and suffering, the chasm was infamous for its bewildering passages, tunnels, pathways, and mazes. Vildrin formed it for the purpose of keeping all the kingdoms trapped unless anyone was daring enough to try to travel through the savage chasm. Even the great Elder Anrhys cowers in...

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Chapter 4: The Black Domain

In a dark place where no ordinary sorcerer dared to enter was the lair of the wretched Vildrin. It was an enormous palace that was slowly melting away as its walls were being consumed into time. This place used to be Remnoth, the City of Valor, as it was called there. Tothris was held prisoner there as Vildrin’s slave along with Elder Anrhys. The great citadel was now renamed, Vuldurius.  Vildrin sat in his black throne with spikes jutting out of the sides and back with dark engravings carved that read the names of dark demons of the Everworld. His throne room towered over all that it could view. Black walls surrounded the dark Vildrin in an enormous rectangle. Vast windows alined the large walls that used to let in bright sunshine, but are now shadowed over by the gloomy clouds that hang over the castle. Vildrin was frightening enough to be feared by nightmares. He had a dark, sinister face, his nose was pointy and long, and his eyes were not blue, green, brown, or any other human eye color, for his eyes glowed with red hatred of piercing fire. His white, dreadful hair hung down to his shoulders which were plated with spiked armor from the darkest worlds. A black, sorrowful tabard covered his chest plate. Black, leather boots covered his feet and his calves. A withered cloak trailed behind his back like a black ghost, and topping his head was a crown of silver that spiraled from his head. Vildrin sat in his dark throne, staring into nothingness, wishing to slay every living sorcerer. Barrowm appeared in the center of the large room in a black tornado. Barrowm came rushing towards Vildrin, and, still looking into space, he said in the most terrible and chilling voice, “Stop!” Barrowm ceased in his tracks, standing about five yards away from Vildrin, and then he stooped his head low until it touched the cold floor. “Lord Vildrin,” Barrowm bellowed, “I have sadly brought grave news from the prison of Thunder Hold.” “Barrowm Enderfoe.” said Vildrin in a calm, but at the same time, hating voice, “Of what news do you bring...

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Chapter 3: The Future Stone-Carrier

Athrin hurriedly lodged the key into the lock and the gate opened with a loud creak that screamed throughout the entire tower. Athrin started to hear yelling upstairs. “Hurry,” said Athrin. “We don’t have much time!” “Wait!” called Xeleoth. “We don’t have time for this Xeleoth!” retorted Athrin. “We can’t just leave him here.” “Who?” Xeleoth pointed to Barrowm. “We can’t bring him, he’ll be trouble!” “He is a soldier of Remnoth, like me. We Remnothis respect all dwellers of our city and we think of them as our brothers and sisters.” Athrin’s bright blue eyes looked into Xeleoth’s gray eyes. With a heavy heart, Athrin bestowed Xeleoth the permission to take the wretched Barrowm with them, not knowing that this was very foolish. The sorcerers and sorceresses followed Athrin through the curved tunnels of the dungeons, sprinting as fast as their legs could take them. Bellra and Sapien lugged behind. A jet of fire shot past Athrin. He repelled back with a blast of red light. The warlock shot backwards, hitting the wall with extreme force. Different colors of blasts were coming this way and that. Bellra couldn’t keep up, she tumbled over and stared into the eyes of another warlock, about to blast her with a jet of red. Athrin stared in horror. “BELLRA!” screamed Athrin. He dodged every burst of magic, pushing through the crowd of the other sorcerers. The blast of red fled from the warlock’s hand, aiming right towards Bellra’s head. Then, Sapien ran from out of the shadows, and cast a bright blue shield around Bellra. The blow returned to its caster, and a burning hole had singed through the warlock. He fell to the ground with a thud. Athrin ran to Bellra and carried her the rest of the way. Light had seeped through the doorway, filling the eyes of the magic users with delight. “C’mon,” yelled Athrin. “We’re almost there!” Athrin broke through the oaken doorway. The sunlight erupted onto their faces, lightening their expressions with the heartiest of joyousness. Athrin turned back towards the dark and sinister icon of the entire world, its walls nearly indestructible, and its spirit tarnished by...

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Chapter 2: Athrin’s Plan

Bellra was getting very close to her due-date, and Vildrin stilled waged war across the world. Athrin and Thaygo were almost the leaders of the entire group. So as the others sat around in their cell, Athrin and Thaygo devised a plan. The whole thing was thought out carefully with even the tiniest of details noted. Their plan involved a dimwitted warden, a few of the prison warlocks, swiftness, and the simple ways of betrayal. Athrin’s and Thaygo’s plan was to tell lies to the prison warlocks. For example, “I saw your wife, Ulgra, having a serious affair with Crith’em!” It was both a mischievous and cunning plan, but it was certainly going to work. Athrin and Thaygo told the rest of the group their plan, and they loved it. Allos and Fallos wanted to try it out first. Together they said to a warlock, “Hey! Iredwell! We heard that Grothtoll thinks that he should be the warden, AND NOT YOU!” Since they knew all of the warlock names, this would be simple. “Do you really think that?” asked Iredwell to Grothtoll, in a stuttered tone. “What?! This is complete rubbish that these filthy twins are talkin’ about!” hollered Grothtoll, in a tone of guilt. “I say we kill em’ right now!” “No!” called Barrowm, tottering down the stone steps to the top of the tower. “You know you can’t do that.” Barrowm had slimy, brown hair that was slicked back. He had a stout nose that was slightly squished against his face and he had thin lips with yellowing teeth behind them. “Warden Barrowm!” exclaimed Grothtoll. “Its been a while since we’ve seen you. Being warden must be very hard work.” As Grothtoll said this, he stepped forward towards Barrowm in a menacing pace in his dark cloak. “You should take a break, lie down for a little, someone could take that heavy load off your shoulders.” “Grothtoll,” said Iredwell. “What are you talking about?” “I’m talkin’ about sympathy.” said Grothtoll. “So old Barrowm can go to sleep. Barrowm, you wanna go to sleep?” “Yes,” said Barrowm. “I think I do. AND YOU CAN SLEEP TOO!” With that,...

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Chapter 1: The Gem of Deishma

Deep within the caverns of Thunder Hold were many fallen warriors and heroes who had been led into the greedy yet powerful clutches of the dreaded Vildrin. These wondrous men and women were only given the least of Thunder Hold’s hospitality. Their great magic was possessed within them so they couldn’t be capable of escaping the granite walls. They were given the dungeons as their new home with grimy slime dripping from the ceiling and decaying bones were scattered along the floor. The only light given was a single candle that was in the middle of the floor of the enormous cell that every prisoner has to share. Their only meal for the day was a stale stump of bread and a pitcher that was filled to the brim with sewage water. As the miniature candle grew to be a worthless pile of wax, the eleven prisoners of Thunder Hold chose where in the room to begin their slumber. All the sorcerers in that gigantic cell had grown quite close together. Sapien was from the kingdom of Netherwind, who was a kindly fellow and a very powerful wizard, but because he had obtained a great age, he had begun to grow insane. Thaygo was from the outskirts of Darromane, but he had a dark background. His father abandoned him when he was nine at the Battle of Aovus Creek. His mother was forced into slavery and was eventually executed by the Grand Baron, Havis. Children were forced to go to war at this terrible battle under his rule where thousands were slain. Thaygo seeks revenge on Havis, and claims that his head will hang upon a sword, skewered through his forehead. The two curious twins of this prison were named Allos and Fallos, only children, were both from Astermound, as well as being exactly identical, they had the unique ability to combine their powers into one, making them a stronger force. Their father was a very strict man who forced both of them into the sorcerer army. A sorcerer prince who went by the name of Athrin, who was the son of Anrhys, was caught fighting against Vildrin himself....

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In the Black Era, there was only darkness. The darkness never stopped spreading, like roots that haven’t yet been pulled. However, everything in dark’s path had stopped growing, like when death falls over those who’s time has come. The roots of trees stopped sponging water, the birds ceased their cheerful chirps, and the sun had been restricted from ever shining its terrific light on those who take in its pleasure. Darkness was the death of a loved one, darkness was a nightmare, darkness was what every soul feared. Vildrin, the dark warlock who cast this black magic upon the world of sorcerers, thus polluting the entire land with evil, was a being of endings. Thousands of magic users tried to defend their world of harmony by trying to make peace with Vildrin, but they suffered the terrible consequences. After seeing that there was no hope to be equal with Vildrin, the sorcerers forged alliances with the neighboring kingdoms, trying to defeat Vildrin with brute force. Ever since that fateful day, their peaceful world has fallen into the torturous clutches of Vildrin, living the lives of slaves and peasants under his rule. Their were five kingdoms of this corrupted world, which were Astermound, Netherwind, Howlveil, Ivefrost, and the mighty Darrowvane. Along with these five kingdoms, there were five rulers, who were all indestructible forces of power. There was Elder Dolth of Astermound, Elder Grimward of Netherwind, Elder Cinder of Howlveil, Elder Roarthain of Ivefrost, and Elder Anrhys of Darrowvane. All of these great fighters fought in the mighty battles that have occurred in their world, but none have been this brutal and dark. Vildrin was not just by himself, for he had an entire army of warlocks that have served him only to be turned into ash when they were of no use anymore. Vildrin’s servant, Barrowm, was not a magic user, for he was only the lifeless remains of a soldier of the non-wizard kingdom of Remnoth, rotting away in the clutches of Vildrin. Darkness easily corrupted Barrown’s mind, making him think that Vildrin was the supreme ruler of all the kingdoms. However, not everyone was corrupted as easily...

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