The Rise
Of
Lord Solidus Dire
Book 1 of 5
The Peasant-Born
Liege Lord
By: Robert Jaek
Prologue:
As dawns light crested above the rolling knolls. A sound pierced the receding night. The deathly silence was palatable in itself permeating everywhere and everything. Unknown trepidation chilled the hardest of hearts to the soul. The overwhelming feeling of defeat filled the air. The thousands were lost in time. Staring above to skies unrelenting seeing only impending dooms written in the constellations. All yet knowing they were everyone of then singularly destined. However for what neither they knew not of.
Yet in ages of war the mountain keeps shall begin their march as all the realms quake and quiver in grotesque morbid anticipation for an end not yet uncovered unto them.
Their eyes always watch from within. Bottomless shadows encircled by the emptiness of non-existence. From within vortexes feather plummet. Just as the fallen ones of old had been. For they had been cast out. Their wings long been since torn, ripped, shredded from their once golden bodies. Feathers in torrents rain upon the hapless. Twisting their minds, souls, and feature upon once an instant touch.
Even the evermore righteous have been swayed hither upon the seductive wave of corruptness. Those who left among the tens of thousands are banished, outcast. From their inner circle echelons. Forsworn against evil they must embrace darkness in order to destroy a greater darkness.
Finishing the true meanings of wrong before all is lost. Before a time of never undoing is wrought upon masses of the unfaithful, the unbeliever’s. Servants, warriors, shamans, druids, priestesses, consorts, slave and master alike, prowlers, mage born, highborn, and peasant born.
All singularly alike. Outside endless windows. Countless fallen stars rise upon broken dreams. Hopes and thoughts tossed carelessly aside. Like fallen, broken chafe they fly a defeated, broken, beaten formation into the spans of nothingness. Like fading embers, lights falling to shade. These elevated yet fallen coexist, within eternal heaven, yet never-ending eternal personal hells. Within the fated dimensions of Sheol. Alabaster, Obsidian towers, yet prisons are intricate in their forming. A citadel of ice, yet hellfire full emits. In all this they have awakened. Never tiring, never wavering. The cursed Amorite, the Immortal Beings, the Forsaken Ones, the Fallen Legion. Fallen from their master lord’s grace and benevolence. Malicious yet beautiful beings. Desperate sold souls inhabit their life essences, their beating hearts move, pumping only through the fear and belief of many. Eternally they are remembered, eternally they are marked, and eternally they are forever damned.
The tiniest change spelled their descent into madness. Jealousies, anger, greed full, ever wanton pride, the wanting of vengeance to be exacted. To be cast aside like mere nothings was not the plans. Treated like failed experiments and dealt as such accordingly. They were cast aside, banished, shunned, shamed, and humiliated. All they felt was despair and they openly wept despairingly.
As the sun hits them the thousands of onlookers are seen as settled yet very mush so unsettled, both near happening at the exact same instant. For ones so bright full of life to yet decide to walk the path of darkness is a sure maddening sign of irreplaceable impending apocalyptic doom. As they have been awoken in the souls of the Hidden Ones, wished, accepted, they roam free among the lands realms. The very earth trembled underfoot at the thoughts brought to forefront of their angelically demonic god-like Malignant Spirits. And once the heir of the Naga of old finds true purpose and reasons he shall subvert the one titles as
Dark-Singer. Within these times the Scorpion Sorcerers shall voice their magic’s willing call releasing the Order of Denarius. The fabled thought myth brought into reality the warrior race the Darkened Denarians. Threefold times they shall be tested. (1)- Through their very life they shall be hardened. (2)- Through inconceivable pain they shall become molded. (3)- Through unbearable misery and loss they shall be conditioned. The sacrifices shall be so unceasingly innumerable many hundredfold. Beware of spilt blood through their rivers streaming red the disease shall spread corrupting immortalizing many creating unbalance in the realms. In these times an Ancient power shall arise quelling rebellions realm wide attempting to right wrongs. In the wilderness lands closest friends become deadly enemies while mortal enemies become brothers, confidants, and the closest of friends. In one such land prophecies abound of one who shall defeat the encroaching darkened malice known only as the Dark-Singer. This is one such prophecy. Broken and defeated upon fields of battle between blood and death the Dark-Singer shall finally be toppled with the fabled Frost-Lance. The one who shall accomplish this seemingly impossible task is a knight. A knight who has been reincarnated from the very fires that set the birth of the Dark-Singer herself into motion. He shall have the power to wield untold power cursed yet blessed. From the nether realms his eyes shall glow angelically demonic unearthly fire. Through his determination and leadership if so the realms choose they shall gain victory and push the true darkness back into the devil’s own abyss . In a time of true needing the line of Dire shall carry the soul of Lord Solidus and to him the Horsemen shall pledge their loyalty and steel loyalty unwavering. As Lord Dire of the line Solidus rules his 4 Horsemen shall rent the world asunder as Judgement rises off his throne. Deaths calculating gaze upon every soul none un-judged. All will be judged all shall be found guilty or innocent and accordingly they shall be guiltily condemned, or mercifully un-condemned.