TheLastOne95

Beyond the Frozen ranges and through the Twin peaks of cruelty, the world of men ends. And this is where the Lord of destitute hibernate. His army of monsters, the destitute, consist of orcs, ogres, goblins and whatever cruel creature one could conjure. They come to the land of men, plunder, murder and take their women as playthings. They take their blood and feed it their lord – feeding him strength.

On another part of Deimo, closer to the borders of Deino, lives a boy. He is not like the others around him, for his hair is blonde and his skin is pale. What's more, his father's hair is red and his mother's blue. His name – Osmond Ward.
He didn't know nothing of the world, for he was merely seven. He didn't know he had the blood of the spirit of fire and water running through him. He didn't know that his family was banished, for his parents belonged to different castes; they followed different gods, and gods are selfish in their followers.

But when the monsters came to his village, and when they killed his mother, he couldn't nothing but watch. His father died on that day, trying to help him escape. 

When he was taken in by his uncle, he had only thing in his mind; revenge. But for that, he need to see the world and learn. A world of Divine artifacts and chants. A world of elemental spirits and strange energies. A world of elves, the followers of light; dwarves, the followers of metal and rock; lizard men, the follower of sands, and demi-humans, the followers of lightning. A land of beasts and monsters.

The land of Graeae, a land of beauty and nightmares.

Additional tags: 
#dark #grimdark #darkfantasy #revenge #elves #dwarves #asofai #tolkien #gore #adult

Graeae: 
Land of beauty and nightmares

Silver threads shone white light above her head, scattering them to a thousand arrows. She walked slowly with Gilbert without raising her head. Her eyes ran left and right and she saw rolls of parchment, paper, ink pots, books and metal sculptures of cavalry made from metal placed over tables. Below her feet, a woollen carpet dyed in wine red was laid; its hairs stood erect and ordered.


"Is this the girl you spoke of, Gibert," a voice came from the front. "Yes, my grace," he said. He kneeled on the floor and pushed Electra to do the same. 


"Stand up and come forward," Electra felt a shock run down her spine. "Go now," the voice whispered. She mustered her courage and walked forward. 


Electra heard moving metal from ahead. "The king asked you a question," this one was more coarse.


"The... The fire asked me to do so," Electra mumbled but her voice echoed in that tent.


The forest parted