This story is fan-fiction based on my painfully, horribly, dull pharmacology textbook. The tome is so overwhelmingly soporific that about the only way I can stand to open the thing and read, is on the pretext of researching a silly fan fiction. I mean, that book is dull. No, it's beyond dull… No, that still doesn't describe its effects…
That book is so impossibly, supremely boring that it actually has a bioactive, pharmacological effect. I'm not sure if the book should be classified as a Sedative-Hypnotic, or if the soporific effect could be called anti-adrenergic. (And if applied topically to the human skull, it also acts as an Anesthetic, hur hur hur.)
The posting of this story is also intended to be a public service, to provide a review board to anyone who might want to flame me.
The Grand
Alliance
Introduction:
All the free nations of Endolor had put aside their differences and united, the
legions of Nilstat the Dark Lord were numberless and merciless, and even the
headstrong kings of the west had come to realize that their choice lay between
Alliance and death. It was barely a month after the conquest of Pravachol that
the kings of many lands put aside their differences and traveled to Fiortal to
make vows of Alliance, old feuds and grudges withered like grass in a fore
before the terrible threat of Nilstat.
On the first new moon of the spring the trumpets of Didronel High Elvenking of
Fiortal announced the start of the first High Council session, and the Herald
stepped forth to address the crowd.
"Arise ye, lords of many lands, and salute the High Council, the Council
of Kings gathered to fight the evil reign of Nilstat the Dark Lord, and his
foul allies the tyrant-kings of Diocto and Lozol!
"Hail ye, my lords, the chiefs of this council - High King Didronel of the
Elves; also of the Elves Queen Luminol of Methylin Forest and King Sildenafil
the Rhodis-by-the-Sea! Hail ye kings Ogen and Buspar of the Dwarves, who have
put aside their people's long feud for this alliance! Hail Loestrin of
Tolectin, greatest king of men, and his mighty sons Indameth and Indocid! Hail
Pulmicort the Young, king of Delsym, who hath bravely broken his father's
alliance with Nilstat the Evil to join our righteous Alliance! Hail ye Teldrin,
Temodar, and Tessalon, warrior-kings of the nomads of Cenolate!"
The herald droned on, as each king entered the Hall of Didronel as if he were
the only monarch present; each secretly covering his fear and sense of
unimportance with pomp and display of wealth. Extravagant greetings and cries
of eternal friendship were exchanged, old feuds were proclaimed forgotten and
recent slights forgiven; yet there were no smiles and no mortal eye lost its
cold glitter of arrogance and personal ambition.
Didronel Elf-King of Fiortal stood before his throne and accepted the greetings
of each king he had called to Alliance, and while his beautiful Elvish face was
clear and smiling, his heart was sad and afraid.
Could these mortals truly put aside their differences? Could men and dwarves
forget their prejudices, and truly unite? Could this group of arrogant monarchs
truly form a High Council that would lead their massed armies to victory, or
would it become a forum for the feuding and politicking?
Could Didronel keep his fears from happening? He was leader of this Alliance in
name only, he had no real authority except the good will he gained from calling
the kings together.
Were the free lands of Endolor as doomed as he feared?
Please review, flame, whatever.