Hey, guys! Here's Chapter 1. Once again, give me any tips you may have. Thank you very much!
DISCLAIMER: I only own my original characters. I don't own anything else.
Chapter 1
The Northern Wastes; it had changed so much since the Hero of Oakvale's final battle with Jack of Blades in the fiery plane of Archon's Folly. After the great battle had ended, the Bronze Gate was immediately closed by the legendary Hero and guardian of Snowspire Village, Sythe, for unknown reasons. The Northern Wastes slowly rebuilt its connections with Albion, and all seemed well.
But when Sythe disappeared, everything appeared to collapse. The fall of the Heroes' Guild plunged society into a period of chaos. Albion's links with the Northern Wastes were shattered, leaving the Northern Wastes alone to fend for itself. But the people of Snowspire Village did not give up hope. As Albion rose from the ashes of pandemonium and entered the Enlightenment era, the residents of Snowspire were slowly beginning to develop their own unique culture and society as well. They became completely independent and began building other small settlements across their frozen lands. One of their leaders, Nicolas Britanov (who would later come to be known as "Nicolas the Great"), founded the monarchal government of the Northern Wastes, creating the Tsardom of Snowspire and successfully becoming the land's first Tsar. Snowspire Village itself evolved into the magnificent Snowspire City. The city became the capital of the tsardom. Much like how the Hero of Bowerstone had founded the Albion Royal Army when the Kingdom of Albion was formed, Nicolas created his own armed forces as well. Sworn to defend the people and to fight enemies without fear or mercy, the Snowspire Army was a force to be reckoned with.
It has been three-hundred years since the reign of Tsar Nicolas. Nicolas's descendent, Vladimir, now rules as Tsar with a firm and respectful hand. Despite the Tsardom's own form of prosperity and technological advancement, it has not had any type of contact with Albion in hundreds of years. The old ways have been lost, and the location of the Bronze Gate has been forgotten as well.
Frostwood, Tsardom of Snowspire (Northern Wastes)
The snow gracefully fell from the infinite clouds to the icy floors of Frostwood. The gray skies loomed over the thick wilderness – ugly, yet beautiful all the same. The howling of a wolf rang softly in the distance. The magnificence of the atmosphere was undeniable.
But the peace and quietness of the region was suddenly interrupted by the sounds of crunching snow beneath the feet of two individuals. A man and a woman dashed through the trees. Their hands were locked together, and they each flashed joyous smiles of love and happiness. Snow and icy particles clung to the furs on their clothing as they ran. Steam elegantly flowed from their mouths with every breath.
The couple came to an icy clearing near the edge of a steep hillside. The man swiftly stopped and pulled the woman towards him. He gazed at crumbs of snow that gently fell upon her long black hair. She had a body that seemed to have been molded by angels. By Avo, she was beautiful.
The man softly kissed her lips and neck, caressing her body at the same time. "Anya…" he tenderly whispered to her between kisses.
Anya moaned in pleasure. But just after a few moments of intimacy, she pulled away. "No, Roman," she said to the man. Her Northern accent was delicate, unique, and distinctive. It added to her charm. "We can't do this."
The man let out a heavy sigh. "And why is that?" he asked in a somewhat frustrated tone.
"It is dangerous out here!" Anya pointed to the frozen thicket behind Roman. "These woodlands are infested with Frost Balverines!"
"I'll protect you." Roman took Anya's hand and pulled her back into his arms. "I'll keep you warm. I swear to Avo, I will! Out here, we don't have to worry about your father finding us together." Roman affectionately gave Anya another kiss. "Come on. Let us stay out here."
Anya stopped as though she was considering what her lover had just said. But in the end, she resolved to disagree with him. "No, Roman!" she whispered. "We have to go back to Snowspire City! I honestly do not feel safe here. We could find another way to be together. I just can't stand coming out here!"
Roman squeezed Anya's arms tightly. "No," he muttered. "Stay. Please!"
"Stop it!" Anya demanded in response to Roman's near aggressive actions. She pushed the man away from her.
Roman had not expected such a reaction. Anya's push forced him back to the edge of the hillside. He did not even have enough time to cry for help before he was sent tumbling down the snowy rise. His body was thrown about like a rag doll as he fell. He broke through the icy thicket at the hill's bottom, his face planted into the soft blanket of snow that covered Frostwood's floor.
Anya put her hand over her mouth in shock. "Roman!" she called as she approached the edge of the hill where her lover had commenced his fall. "Are you there? I'm so sorry! I am so sorry!"
A gust of wind rushed through the air, sending a thin wave of snow across Roman's body. The frost rushing against his face awoke him. Snow clung to his clothing, his skin, and his dark brown hair. He slowly propped himself up on one elbow, wiping the snow from himself. He could hear Anya's calls. "I am alright!" he replied. "It's okay!" He stood to his feet and treaded forward through the snow. His eyes suddenly widened. "Anya!" he hollered. "Get down here quickly!"
"What is it?" Anya asked.
"Just get down here! There is something you must see!"
It took a few moments for Anya to reach the bottom of the hill. Roman had left a form of pathway in the snow when he fell, so she used it to get down quicker. The hillside was covered with ice and rocks. There were a few times where she nearly fell down herself. But eventually, she was able to reach her lover. "We really must get back to Snowspire City." she told Roman.
Roman pointed forward without responding to his lover's words. "Look."
The woman followed Roman's gaze. For the first time in her life…she was speechless. Before the couple was a massive dome-like structure that appeared to have been crafted during the days of the Old Kingdom of Albion. Old Kingdom architecture had become an extremely rare sight in the Northern Wastes. Since the days of the Hero of Oakvale, storms, war, and industrialization had destroyed much of what had remained of Old Kingdom structures.
Yet here was a perfectly preserved piece of ancient culture. How could it have remained there for such a long period of time? Did anyone even know about it?
"Come on, my dear." Roman said, taking Anya's hand and pulling her forward towards the dome.
"No! We have no idea what that is! It could be dangerous!"
"You're always concerned about danger!" Roman argued. "I will not let anything happen to you. We have just stumbled upon something that nobody in Snowspire could even imagine. Let's see what it is!"
After a few moments of thought, Anya reluctantly agreed to join Roman in exploring the mysterious Old Kingdom structure. They pushed through the wilderness towards the dome, finally reaching a long stone staircase that led to its center. "I…I think I remember this." Anya said quietly as they made their way up the steps.
"You remember this?" Roman asked curiously. "You've been here before?"
"No, no. I remember learning of this in school. Do you recall the history books speaking of a place called 'Archon's Shrine'? Where the mighty Hero of Oakvale gathered the needed souls to open the Bronze Gate and defeat Jack of Blades once and for all?"
Roman grinned and kissed Anya on the cheek. "That is just a myth, my dear." he stated. "None of those places are real."
The couple then reached the top of the staircase. They set their eyes upon the massive heart of the dome. Three strange stones bearing odd symbols of Old were set up at each side of the structure, forming a triangle. The dome's floor was smooth and covered by only a very thin sheet of ice. Yet the most attention-grabbing aspect was not the architecture…it was the frozen body of a man at the dome's center.
Anya shrieked loudly, only to have her mouth swiftly covered by her lover. "Do not scream." Roman whispered. "It could attract unwanted attention."
Anya pushed Roman away. "We need to go back now!" she said with a tear slowly rolling down her cheek.
Roman shook his head. "Just wait!" he exclaimed. "I need to find out what is going on here!" Without awaiting a response from his partner, Roman slowly approached the corpse that lay in front of him. The man's body was completely frozen, meaning he had probably been there for at least a day or two. Various wounds (some abnormally large) covered his body, appearing to have been inflicted by wolves. "He was attacked by animals." Roman stated.
"And if we do not leave, we will be next!" Anya shouted.
Roman ignored her and continued searching the man's body. The man appeared to have bled to death due to his wounds. Yet the one thing that truly caught Roman's eye was the disturbing tattoo on the man's forehead. It almost looked to be a cultist tattoo. The design was very sinister…yet beautiful at the same time.
"Are you done yet!" Anya yelled angrily. "Please, I want to leave!"
"Just hold on!" Roman began searching through the man's coat, almost immediately coming across a small journal. He quickly flipped through the pages. Only the first page contained writing. The script was written in a different language. "Anya, look at this."
"Just put it down, Roman!"
Roman began reading the text aloud. "Yaan noxis siun…forbidel retornel…yell denoxin eusel." These odd terms were followed by one of Roman's charming laughs. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Anya was on the verge of sobbing. "Roman," she murmured. "I'm scared!"
Just as the words rolled from the lady's tongue, a blinding stream of light was fired upward from each of the three ancient stones. The lights merged at the top of the dome. "Anya!" Roman bellowed. He sprinted towards her and pushed her to the floor, laying over her to protect her from whatever was to come.
A dark, rumbling noise rang as the earth suddenly began to shake. The deafening sound of two giant metal objects rubbing together screamed through the silent atmosphere of Frostwood. Not far from the dome, two gigantic bronze gates slowly opened. Deep, booming laughter thundered across the skies. Roman and Anya did their best to call for help. But the monster that emerged from the gates ended their cries in mere seconds.
The Bronze Gate had been reopened.
Ravenscar Keep, Ravenscar Island, Kingdom of Albion
Ravenscar Keep was especially cold and frightening on that day. It was not easy to live as one of the elite soldiers that served as the prison's guards. But it was better to be a prison guard than to be a fighting on the frontlines in Samarkand.
At the deepest, coldest, and darkest depths of the prison were Albion's most dangerous madman – murderers, rapists, and cultists. Chained by the wrists and ankles to the walls, the mobility of these monstrous human beings was limited.
One of these madmen, a notorious cultist by the name of Henry Von Blättern, was hysterically laughing as though he had just experienced one of the best moments of his life. Henry was a mid-height, weak man with long, overgrown black hair and a beard that perfectly matched his unkempt life in prison. Across his forehead was a mysterious tattoo. It was a cultist tattoo – one that appeared to be very sinister…yet beautiful all the same. "HE'S BACK!" Von Blättern wheezed through his laughter. "HE'S BACK!"
Henry's laughter was causing disruption amongst the other prisoners. Many began moaning in pain. Others screamed for help. This alarmed the nearby soldiers who were standing guard at Von Blättern's block. Six of the soldiers marched through the cold, stone hallways that led to the notorious cultist's darkened cell. Their shining cuirasses, their fearful ornate helmets, their glistening Master turret rifles, and their spotless boots; these soldiers exemplified Albion's best.
Making their way down the metal steps that led to his block, the soldiers came to a halt in front of his chamber. "What the hell are you going on about now, Von Blättern?" one of the soldiers asked.
Von Blättern pressed his face against the this metal bars that kept him imprisoned. "THE MASTER'S BACK!" he screeched. "THE MASTER'S BACK! He will collect his Chosen and give them eternal life! And rest of Albion with DIE! HE'S BACK!"
One of the soldiers cocked an eyebrow behind his steel mask. "Well," he remarked. "Never heard this tale before."
"You're right." replied the officer that appeared to be in command of the six. "Fetch Lieutenant Hadley. He may wish to hear this filthy madman's tale."
A sinister smile spread across Von Blättern's face, revealing his rotting teeth. "Albion will burn! Mark my words! It will burn!"