Read Omensent: Birth of a Dragon Lord Page 3


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  The dark sorcerer rode atop the shoulders of a mighty scarlet dragon high above the Godstear Mountains, basking in his new-found power. The spell he had created had worked far better than he could have ever dreamed! He had expected the incantation to attract only a few of the great scaled serpents, but virtually the entire species had been drawn to him, only to be trapped inside of the huge ruby which he wore on a thick gold chain around his neck. He now had complete control of the most powerful creatures in the world! They were enslaved inside of the ruby, which harvested their magical life essence to be used by whoever possessed the enchanted gem.

  Laughing with insane glee, he ordered the beast on which he rode to dive down and destroy a small peasant village below. The mighty beast roared in hatred and outrage, trying desperately to fight the uncontrollable impulse to follow the sorcerer’s command. The sorcerer grabbed the glowing ruby, drawing upon its power to force the snarling beast to obey his will. The enormous dragon screamed in helpless fury, then dove at the cluster of tiny grass huts and their unknowing occupants, breathing its terrible fire. The screams of pain and horror from the terrified peasants echoed through the mountains, accompanied by the sorcerer’s malicious laughter, and the dragon’s roars of indignation.

  Once everything had been laid to ruin and the occupants slaughtered, the sorcerer ordered the great serpent to land in a small secluded clearing, and slid from its massive shoulders.

  The mighty beast whirled around to face its captor, snarling in outrage. “Who are you, human?” She demanded, her whip-like tail lashing out and shattering a boulder, reducing it to dust. “What have you done to me? What have you done with my brothers and sisters?”

  Ignoring the towering beast, the sorcerer casually walked over and settled on the soft moss that blanketed the earth beneath a large oak tree. “You will stand watch as I rest.” He ordered the dragon, closing his eyes in exhaustion. It had taken an incredible amount of energy to perform the incantation, and he desperately needed to rest and replenish his energy. He knew that the enormous serpent could easily rip him to pieces, but he wasn’t concerned. The spell that enslaved the dragons was from the most ancient of magic, and could not be broken. The beast hadn’t any choice but to obey his commands as long as he possessed the gem.

  When he awoke several hours later, he opened a large sack that hung from his belt and produced a heavily-seasoned haunch of deer, and a rawhide flask of wine. He took his time as he ate his breakfast, his cold calculating eyes lost in thought.

  The dragon watched in seething silence, wanting nothing more than to destroy its captor, yet helpless to act.

  When he was finally finished, the sorcerer tossed the scraps aside, then rose to his feet and carefully brushed his robes clean. He glanced over at the dragon, who stared at him menacingly. “What are you called?” He demanded, ignoring the look of death in the dragon’s eyes.

  The dragon growled a deep rumbling growl, and sooty smoke curled up from her nostrils, then, after several long seconds, she sullenly grumbled. “Tempest.” She snarled angrily once more. “Who are you? Why have you done this?” The enormous beast’s massive body trembled in fury.

  “Silence!” The sorcerer roared, staring at the helpless beast with contempt. “You will speak only when commanded to speak!” His eyes bulged insanely. “I am known as Balik the Sorcerer, and I am your new master!” He paused for a moment to allow this statement to sink in, and then continued. “I hold in my hand,” He held the glowing ruby aloft for Tempest to see. “half of the most powerful object in the world. It is of my own creation. Inside of this wondrous gem is your entire species. Every dragon alive, large and small, young and old is now trapped inside of this beautiful stone. It harvests their magical life essence and stores it for my use. It now controls you, and every one of your kind. I call it the Dragon Gem.”

  Tempest recoiled in horror. “You must be mad! You cannot do this!”

  Balik laughed malevolently. “But I already have. We will now depart for my keep, and then, once I have sent you to join your brethren, I will continue to the town of Crete, where at this very moment, a master swordsmith is putting the finishing touches on the Dragon Gem’s counterpart, the Dragon Sword. The sword is the key to unlocking the gem’s full power. It has been crafted from the purest steel, infused with the most ancient of magic, and quenched in the blood of a dragon. Once the sword and the gem are joined, the gem’s full power will be unlocked and mine to control!”

  Tempest snarled in rage, causing the sorcerer to fall into another fit of mocking laughter.

  “Yes, my scaled slave.” He sneered imperiously. “Thanks to you and your kind, this world will be mine to control, and nothing will be able to stop me!” He cackled insanely. “Now, bow to your new master!”

  The mighty scarlet dragon screamed in helpless fury, her entire body trembling with uncontrollable hatred. She wished nothing more than to rip this puny human to sheds, but the power that the cursed gem had over her was undeniable. Almost without even realizing it, she lowered herself down to allow the sorcerer to scramble atop her broad shoulders, and then, once he was settled, she launched herself into the air with a powerful thrust of her massive wings.

  They flew southeast over the mountains until they reached the foothills that separated the Godstear Mountains from the rolling grasslands of the nomadic Deola, then the sorcerer ordered Tempest to settle down in a courtyard outside of a forbidding keep that had been built of diseased-looking blocks of limestone. There weren’t any windows decorating its exterior, and there appeared to be only a single ornately-carved arched doorway leading inside.

  Balik climbed down from Tempest’s shoulders, and then looked back at her with supreme contempt. “I must now go to retrieve the Dragon Sword. It is almost time for me to take my rightful place as ruler of the world.” He laughed insanely. “Now you will rejoin your brethren, slave. Be kind enough to inform them that they now serve me.”

  “You’ll never get away with this!” Tempest snarled. “One day we will be released from our prison, and then you shall pay for what you have done! This I swear!”

  “I doubt that very much.” The sorcerer sneered, raising the Dragon Gem in one hand. A shaft of crimson light suddenly shot from the gem and engulfed Tempest. When it vanished, so had the great scarlet serpent.

  Balik quickly turned and approached the entrance to his keep, and was pleased to find that there weren’t any charred corpses decorating his doorstep. He was forced to secure his home from intruders, and often discovered the remains of would-be burglars lying about.

  Sorcerers were viewed as evil, disreputable creatures that were shunned by normal society. Hated and feared, magic-users were forced to take special precautions to protect their lives. There had been numerous attempts made on his life over the years, some by assassins hired by various people who feared his power, others by warriors looking to make a name for themselves. He once had an entire mob of angry peasants lusting for his blood. He was rarely disturbed after the bloodbath that occurred that evening, though he still found the occasional burglar that had discovered the hard way that one should never enter the domicile of a sorcerer without invitation.

  He quickly negated the enchantments that protected his home, and then entered the forbidding keep. He paused for a moment and made a strange gesture. The torches that lined the main corridor suddenly burst into flame, lighting the musty unadorned hallway, and revealing a number of arched doorways.

  At the end of the long corridor stood an elaborate black marble staircase that led to the upper floors of the huge keep. But instead of heading up the staircase, Balik went through one of the arched doorways and into his large study, firmly latching the door behind him. He knew that no one could possibly enter his home without his knowing, but was not one to take chances.

  He approached one of the many large wooden bookcases that lined the walls of the room, and mumbled a short incantation. The bookcase suddenly swung free from th
e wall, revealing a narrow winding staircase that led deep into the bowels of the keep. He quickly descended the stairs to the huge room that served as his laboratory, and then paused for a moment to look around.

  The walls of this room were lined from floor to ceiling with shelves and bookcases that were literally overflowing with old books, moldy scrolls, and ancient parchments. In the center of the room was a large oak table, its surface cluttered with jars filled with strange, unrecognizable creatures suspended in a yellow-tinged fluid, beakers that were filled with foul-smelling substances, and long test tubes filled with bubbling liquids. Against the far wall sat a large stone desk that had been painstakingly carved from a single block of black marble.

  Balik crossed the room to his desk and removed the gold necklace from which the Dragon Gem hung, gently placing it atop the desk. Kneeling down, he carefully pried loose a stone from the floor, revealing a small hidden compartment. He took the gem from the desk, paused for a moment to admire its breathtaking beauty, then gently placed it into the compartment and replaced the stone.

  He had decided early on in his plans not to take the Dragon Gem with him as he traveled to retrieve the Dragon Sword. The temptation to join the sword and gem may prove to be too great for him to resist, and it would take an immense amount of effort to control the power that would be unleashed. He wanted to be sure that he was safe from prying eyes and unwanted distractions before attempting the last phase of his plan.

  He immediately started back up winding staircase, eager to retrieve the Dragon Sword from its creator.

  It hadn’t been easy to locate a swordsmith skilled enough to undertake the crafting of such a superior sword that would also be willing to do business with a sorcerer. Most common folk refused to have any dealing with magic-users whatsoever. But after searching far and wide, he finally found a dwarf whose skills were renowned, and who was also willing to deal with a sorcerer, for an outlandish price, living in the nearby town of Crete. The short, thickly muscled dwarf was a distinctly unpleasant character, rumored to dabble in the Dark Arts, so he able to understand the complex and detailed instructions he needed to follow when crafting the Dragon Sword.

  After he had given the dwarf the instructions and necessary ingredients, including a large barrel of dragon’s blood in which the sword was to be quenched, he gave the dwarf half of the agreed price and promised to return in two weeks.

  Balik quickly made his way out of his keep, pausing only for a moment to replace the enchantments that protected his home, and then set off on foot to the nearby town of Crete.

  Crete, a small, insignificant little town full of small, insignificant people, was separated from his isolated home by several leagues of forest with a single overgrown trail that was rarely ever used. Balik almost never visited the town, whose superstitious inhabitants were terrified of the mad sorcerer, and none ever traveled more than a few miles into the forest in fear of crossing his path.

  It was nearly midday when he finally emerged from the forest and reached the edge of Crete. He crossed a small wooden bridge that spanned a swift flowing stream that bordered the town, and quickly made his way towards the dwarf’s workshop, ignoring the looks of fear and disgust that he received from the townsfolk.

  The dwarf’s shop was near the town's center, as were a number of other merchant’s shops, though the dwarf’s establishment was a great deal shabbier than any other building nearby. The whitewash that the builder had generously applied to the stone facade was peeling, and had long turned to a dingy gray from the fumes and soot that poured continuously from the forge’s chimney. A rickety cart stood outside, broken and obviously forgotten, and a number of rusty tools lay scattered about the area carelessly.

  Balik cautiously entered the smithy and paused to look around. It was completely dark inside of the shop, save for the fire that raged in the forge, and it was stiflingly hot. Standing next to the forge was the dirty, soot covered dwarf, who stood staring back at the sorcerer with fearful eyes.

  The dwarf was taller than most of his kind, standing nearly four feet, with thickly muscled arms that were covered in hundreds of deeply pitted scars from a lifetime of working at the forge. His long gray hair was oily and matted, and he had a great shaggy beard that looked as though it had never seen the likes of a comb.

  The sorcerer slowly walked across the shop, his eyes gleaming eagerly in the dim light. “Where is my sword?”

  The dwarf gulped audibly, then hurried over to a workbench and gently lifted a wrapped bundle, which he quickly brought to the sorcerer.

  Balik snatched the bundle from the cringing dwarf and tore off the wrapping, an insane look in his cold eyes. He gasped in awe at the sight of the flawless sword. It was superbly crafted, and radiated with power, seeming to almost possess a life of its own. The hilt was crafted in the image of a dragon in flight, its wings forming the hand guards, and its long tail curling to form a setting for a gem of exceptional size.

  The sorcerer examined the setting closely, checking for even the smallest imperfection, then turned to stare at the trembling dwarf. “It is perfect! You have done well. For that, I’ll allow you to live.” Without another word, he turned and left the terrified dwarf, tossing a large pouch of gold coins onto the floor on the way out.

  He quickly made his way out of town, pausing only once at the bridge to glance back to make sure he wasn't being followed, and to make a mental note to return one day soon to lay waste to the offending little village.

  He continued his way towards his isolated keep, eager to put his plans into action. When he reached the forest that separated his keep from the village, he allowed himself to relax, sure in the knowledge that he was now the most powerful man in the world. He had traveled the path through the forest countless times before and had never once encountered another traveler on the trail. Everyone knew that it led to the mad sorcerer’s keep, and was sure to keep well clear of the area.

  He followed the trail deeper into the forest, debating with himself which continent he should conquer first. After much consideration, he finally decided to begin with his homeland first, starting with the huge mining colony of Galanras, whose rich mines were known to produce the purest gold in the world.

  Balik smiled to himself. Galanras would be an ideal place to begin his campaign. It would provide him with the funds to supply an army of massive proportions. His eyes gleamed as thousands of possibilities ran through his mind. Soon, the entire world would be at his feet! He quickened his pace, eager to begin his plans.

  He was almost halfway through the forest when he stopped, staring intently into the surrounding forest. He suddenly had the most eerie feeling that someone, or something, was watching his every movement. He waited for several moments, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He decided it was just his imagination, and started back down the path, when he heard a strange twang echo through the forest.

  He suddenly realized that there was one fatal flaw in his otherwise flawless plan. To be able to carry out his mission, he had to stay alive long enough to complete them.

  Those were Balik’s final thoughts as he fell to the ground, his heart fatally pierced by an arrow.

  Everything fell silent in the forest for several minutes, then a misshapen pig-faced creature emerged from a grove of bushes and cautiously approached the dead sorcerer.

  The troll, standing nearly eight feet tall, with a thin skeletal frame wrapped in tawny muscle, was garbed in a tattered hooded robe that covered most of its face. It nudged the dead sorcerer with a toe, checking for any signs of life, then, satisfied he was dead, it began to rummage through his belongings. It squealed with delight at the sight of the superbly crafted Dragon Sword, and quickly discarded the crude blade it had carried. It finished stripping the corpse of everything valuable, then disappeared back into the forest, leaving the sorcerer's body to rot on the forest floor.