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| Author | More from: The Chronicles of Skunder! |
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| Congratulation Mr Skunder, i m really happy for you and i hope you will translate them in many languages (frenchy as well)... | | Congrats.Hope the book release will be a huge success. | | Congrats Skunder, I remember I used to love reading them, can't wait for the books. | | Good luck with your books. Hopefully they bring more players to our server xD | | awesome! Congratz skundy! I still remember CoS | | grats skundy :) n m also waiting for your PnP game ^_^ glad to see you back.... (o.o maybe arctic also) | Congratzz Mr Skunder
Me and my bro Baweja had great time reading them in the forum
Looking forward 2 the books :) | Hey all,
I'm going to preface all my comments with this link, please read first:
https://www.lordswm.com/forum_messages.php?tid=1914158
Finished reading it?
Ok, so because of THAT my initial plan to post several trivia games about the CoS and the upcoming Lorekeeper series was postponed, yet the publication date remains the same...and is fast approaching.
I will still be planning on posting some fun events and teasers here, but some of my plans will have to be scratched, or maybe I'll use them after all has been unveiled.
Unless something comes up, I am shooting for this Sunday March 11th to be the big reveal! See you then (and pass it on ;). | | Oh come on man, give free coupons to the community to get it for free !! :D | Lorekeeper: In Death’s Grip
Prologue
The rider sped along the cobbled streets of Norielzees thinking of the dreadful fate that might await him if he were late. Only minutes before he had passed through the gray gates of the city and now rising up before him he could see the great Tower of NigheFall. He urged his horse onward with greater speed.
The Tower of Nighefall – or the Black Tower – was in fact made of a deep purple colored marble stone. It ascended a full nine stories into the air proving itself as the tallest structure in the city. At its base, thirteen flying buttresses decorated with sharp cutting edges at their tops and sides descended from the second story to reach the tower’s expansive topiary gardens. The bulk of the tower was smooth from where the buttresses met the main shaft up until the highest level of the structure. There, six minarets, as sharp looking as the buttresses below, emerged equidistant upon its sides with dangerously barbed points at their bottoms and tops. During the night its deep purple form appeared as a multi edged axe blade upon the backdrop of the skyline.
At last the rider arrived, stopping at the edge of the large, cruel buttresses, and jumping from his horse, moved towards the entrance as soon as his feet met the ground. The horse was quickly handed off to one of the hired attendants of the Masters of the tower – the attendant, the visitor noted, was one of the living. Inside he knew there were those of a far different variety.
The doors opened as if unmanned and the visitor briskly entered the large chamber. The room was exquisitely constructed and furnished, but he focused upon the spiraled staircase wrapping around its perimeter and a large open area in its center. He moved to the central open area and stood upon an etched symbol upon the ground. Looking up, he spoke, “Ascendus. Nine.”, and quickly he rose into the air.
The floors of the Tower of Nighefall quickly flew by him as he moved up to the highest level of the structure. As he soared upward he could see the ceiling of the central chamber coming ever faster. For sure, he thought, if he continued at this speed and direction he would be killed. At least, he thought to himself, my body will be too far gone to raise into the service of the dark masters he had come to see.
At the final second before striking the ceiling, he felt a hard tug from the magic and he was suddenly traveling sideways at an equal speed. It lasted only a second before he felt the hard stone of the spiraling staircase under his feet. The doorway to the Pinnacle of Nighefall lay just beyond.
Before him however stood a pair of guards.
The two forms were animations – beings once dead but now risen and made alive again through arcane magic. They were skeletal beings, dressed in the ceremonial guard of the Six, standing ever vigilant. The prospect of fighting one of the Undead – beings who do not rest, who do not tire, and who are incapable of mercy – was more a deterrent than the swords at the skeletons’ sides.
Speaking clearly the visitor tried to keep the trembling out of his voice, “I am Adorath of Temberholozin. I have been summoned by the Masters of Nighefall. I wish to pass.”
They stared at Adorath from empty sockets and with blank expressions. Then, without a word spoken between them, they stepped aside and opened the doors to allow Adorath to enter.
Beyond the doorway the highest level of the Nighefall Tower awaited. The audience chamber of the Six was built with a solid, soft purple with veins of white colored tile on the floors and a deeper shade of purple which ran through columns along the walls and then to the ceiling. There a mosaic of the skyline of Norielzees had been painted with the Tower of Nighefall at its epicenter. | The Masters of Necromancy, or simply the Six, dwelled here in this upper chamber at nearly all times. Six other doorways led off from the main chamber leading to the hanging minarets on the outside of the tower. Each of the masters called one of those structures home, and did most of their magic crafting and scheming there as well.
Presently the Six were in the central chamber sitting and waiting upon a mezzanine level in the recesses of the room. Each sat upon a large throne equal in size but fitted to each of the Masters’ tastes. Adorath quickly scanned the thrones from left to right, noting the Six and trying to guess their intention for summoning him this time.
Sarradema, the youngest of the Six, sat in a dark wooden chair, its style modern despite the ancient look to the chamber and other thrones. He chose his chair as much for his personal style as well as to extenuate himself from the other Necromancers. It was well known, even amongst the commoners, that Sarradema would overcompensate with brash moves and actions but whether this was due to his great ambition or because of a more insidious reason none could tell.
Next was Demizees. He lay out on a divan lounge chair with a gilded frame; his body lying sideways and his eyes staring down upon Adorath with a bemused expression. Demizees was a visual grotesquerie as he spent his entire life steeped in the sins of pleasure. Most prevalently, he reveled in debauchery and gluttony. He spared no expense to getting the things he fancied and the result was a character of sloth and a body which had grown obese and unkempt. He was dressed in the finest of silks which wound around his bloated body; some cloths were dangling freely as if extenuating his large frame. Resting sideways, his huge body dwarfed the small chair he laid upon, making him appear even larger.
In contrast, Takesister rested comfortably on a large but sleek looking throne. Its high back was arched and crested with a wooden frame. Etched into the wood was a design which combined a patchwork of interwoven vines encircling several death’s head images, culminating at the top corners, the legs, and the arm rests in open mouthed skulls. She sat nearly sideways in the large chair, one leg underneath her and the other stretched out under it, exposing much of her outer thigh. Adorath tarried a moment longer carrying his gaze up the length of her dress, fashioned with intermingled dark patches and sheer openings just the same. His eyes at last came to her face which read like a poem of beauty and inner motive. Her long waves of hair hung low and eventually were lost in the black cloth of her chair. She was well known for using her beauty as both a lure and a weapon and many a man had fallen prey to them. Adorath forcibly looked to the next Necromancer Master.
There sat Venimoth upon a grand stone throne. The presence of the stone throne commanded attention with its wide gray frame and intricate stone-working upon the front and sides. Though there was no official ruler of the Six, if there were one, it’d undoubtedly be Venimoth. He was a middle aged man both well built and well learned. More than any formal teaching though, Venimoth was renowned for his quick wit and ambitious mind. In the decade that he’d been made one of the Six, the Masters of the Tower of Nighefall had prospered both financially and in notoriety – though some may say infamy – more than any time since the Six had first been established. Adorath could only wonder what his present scheme might portend.
Nesisecra sat on Venimoth’s right in a backless, armed chair. She sat upright with her back arched and her legs off to one side while her arms lay straight upon the rests of the awkward chair. Though it was apparent she had once been quite an attractive woman, much of her beauty had now waned. Wrinkles lined her face and the radiance of her eyes had long faded, but she kept her confident poise nonetheless. Beauty, a fleeting thing, had been repl | Beauty, a fleeting thing, had been replaced by a steely drive and vicious mind.
Lastly, Serakul locked Adorath’s quick gaze even as the newcomer’s eyes fell upon the Necromancer. Serakul truly encompassed the title of a Master of the Tower of Nighefall. Though all of the Six had an infamous reputation for cruelty, none better met that role than Serakul. He wore simple clothes with a fine cape flowing out behind and wrapped underneath his body. His skin was bone white and his face showed only a thin line for his lips. Earlier in his life Serakul had suffered a violent wound from one of his animations which had broken free of his control. From that encounter the Necromancer received a nasty scar; four cracked and jagged lines tore down from his bald head over his right eye and into the soft flesh of his cheek and nose. That event had helped to shape the persona of the dark man. Serakul sat atop what some believed was a stone throne carved into the likeness of several dozen human skulls. In truth the carvings were actual skulls fashioned together to provide an unholy throne which perpetuated Serakul’s reputation of evil.
Adorath could feel the cold sweat forming as fear clutched itself to his heart. The Six looked down upon him now with their silent and judging stares. After too long a pause, Venimoth said, “Well Adorath, I am pleased you decided to come.” Inwardly Adorath laughed. No one openly refused a summons of the Six – not if they valued their life. Venimoth never stopped speaking, “Some time ago you approached us in search of our help, after all other plans had failed, so you mentioned. We agreed to aid you in your quest, though for a favor of course. Since then we have granted you with tutelage beyond your limited status and you have been rewarded most handsomely.”
Adorath bowed his head, “All by the good graces of Nighefall.”
“Which should not be forgotten,” Venimoth continued, “but the time has come. It is your turn to show your devotion and gratitude!”
Adorath bowed his head, “I am at your service.”
“I wonder though,” the impetuous Sarradema interjected, “is he really ready for the task before him?”
As there was no true hierarchy amongst the Six, they would often overlap and interrupt each others’ discussions freely. This was as much for those summoned before the Six as for the other Masters themselves. They spoke freely both to not appear submissive to any of the other Six, as well as to provide an outlet to impress upon the commoners fear and each Necromancer’s terrible reputation.
Venimoth, ever the diplomat, said, “Of course he is, Master Sarradema. I doubt he would have come all the way here simply to tell us he hasn’t the resolve to follow through with the plans we’ve worked so hard on for the past year.” Adorath noted that the conversation though meant for him, no longer included him. He stayed quiet as the Necromancers continued their discussion.
Sarradema retorted, “I don’t believe it is without reason for us to expect some sort of fealty from those summoned before this counsel. He could be as much a spy for King Archaelum and the kingdom of Thurlmolan as a devoted servant of Nighefall.”
Several other members nodded now and openly agreed with Sarradema. The elder female Nesisecra could be heard above the rest, “Yes. Let him be proven true before we let him walk from this chamber.”
After a moment’s pause, Venimoth openly chuckled, a strange sound to be heard in this chamber and particularly at this time. More than one of the Masters turned to him as he began speaking, “Brothers! Sisters! You forget. He hasn’t come here out of fear of our retribution – though I’m sure fear may dwell within him. He has come for a far greater purpose, to him. Love! And he knows only with our aid can he regain that love. It is because of this that he will not falter.” The statement was as much as reminder to those sitting beside him as for Adorath. | The Six nodded their understanding. In truth though, they had no personal attachments of their own. They only understood the ploy of using Adorath’s ambitions as a tool.
Serakul, sitting atop his throne of skulls, concluded and summed up the ideas of the Masters, “Much relies on this mission. He had better not falter.” The threat of the most notorious of the Necromancers was not lost on Adorath.
Fighting back the urge to shudder, Adorath noted also that for the first time since their discussion had begun they were all looking down to him. He understood this as their prompt to allow him to speak. He cleared his throat and tried his best to not say something that would get him killed, “I assure you all; I am ready for whatever task you put before me.”
The beautiful Takesister spoke next luring Adorath with bolstering words, “That is good to hear. Now listen and hear what you must do. Because of your apprenticeship with the Watchers of the Demon Stone, you are the only one in position for this task, and though a great weight is placed upon your shoulders we believe you can carry it out to success. Only you, because of your apprenticeship, can get close enough to the item the Watchers keep guard over. It must be you.”
Adorath said, “Yes, I understand, but…”
“But?” Serakul snapped, “Have you so quickly changed your mind?”
Demizees as if bored with the conversation up until now suddenly came to life, “Oh how lovely a thought. It’s been far too long since a commoner has openly defied us. I shall have to prepare a list of tortures suitable for such a crime.” The rotund man clapped his hands together in a gesture which made him appear as a maniacal, overweight child.
“No! There is no need for that! I assure you.” He nearly prostrated himself before beginning again, “I was going to say that at all times one of the Watchers stands guard over the Stone. Some of these wizards are the strongest in all of Thurlmolan. How can I overcome him?”
“Ah, a worthy question,” Venimoth answered, “but one that we have long ago found a solution for.” The Necromancer motioned to one of the dark corners of the large chamber. From there a figure slowly emerged carrying something in its outstretched hands. As the form moved closer Adorath recognized it by its blank expression and stiff movements as one of the undead. The zombie still retained the features it did in life, however its grayish skin was pulled taut and it had a more than sickly appearance to it. As it neared, the smell of death came forward as well.
The figure stopped only feet from Adorath. Without words or any true sign of intelligence the zombie continued to hold its arms out. In its hands was a small vial. As Adorath fearfully waited for the undead form to make an action, the creature’s fingers unfurled.
Hesitantly Adorath took the vial and inspected it after the zombie headed back to its dark corner. The vial was nearly weightless and was the shape of a small beaker. It was made from an opaque glass material. At its top was a silver stopper that shined brightly despite the gloom of the room.
Adorath raised his head questioningly.
Venimoth answered, “It is a Spirit Flask. It holds the spirit of one of our servants. It will take care of the Watcher for you, all you have to do is unstop the magic cork and the spirit will be released and do its duty. Then without one of the guardians looking over it, the Stone can be easily removed.” Venimoth’s carefree smile seemed to dismiss any further doubt in Adorath’s mind.
The dark masters looked down upon Adorath waiting for the expectant question. Finally Adorath asked, “And once I do this, once I bring the Demon Stone back to you, then you’ll restore Patia back to life? Once this is over you’ll return her to me?” | Takesister said with the most tender of voices, “Consider her already within your loving arms.”
Adorath was soon after dismissed and left the Nighefall Tower with his task in hand. As the doors closed the Six seemed overjoyed with themselves.
Venimoth brought his hands together enfolding his fingers then tapped his chin as if contemplating. Then he said, “Congratulations my fellow Masters, that was beautifully executed and went exactly as planned.”
For the most part, the Masters were elated. They congratulated themselves repeatedly for the well rehearsed meeting. And Adorath had played the perfect puppet.
As most of the Necromancers celebrated, Master Serakul continued to stare silently at the closed entrance doors as if still able to see the long departed Adorath just behind them. The Necromancer spoke less often than the other Masters but when he did he commanded their attention, mainly due to his wise - and more to their enjoyment - sometimes sinister, assessment of a situation.
With a single sentence he summed up the purpose of the Masters’ great joy. “And with that we bring the end to the kingdom of Thurlmolan.” | Alright, so above we have the teaser trailer from book 2. If you're wondering where #1 is, just read the first entry on the original CoS. ;)
Notice which LWM player's name was used in this book? Well I'm looking for several additional names to be used in book 3. The names must be real sounding and can not have symbols or numbers in the name, look similar to this: _-Name-_, or have generic labels such as ImADemon666. If you are suggesting another player's name please get their permission first. No you do not get rights to your name if yours is chosen. But you do get bragging rights and to see you game-name in print!!!
Presently I'm looking for:
'X' number of great sounding, original DEMON names
and (Here's the spoiler) up to 6 great sounding DWARF names | for Skunder:
demon-How about Alastair? | Publishing a book for the Game, What an original Idea. I don't think any other MMPORG games out there have thought of that. Not only does it add more theme to the game but it will most likely attract players to the game especially if you sell it in multiple countries, perhaps send a translated version to India since the game is big there...lol
just a couple questions:
Is the book/s going to have any references that promote the game itself? and will it have illustrative art in there like character art. | for Zenthos:
It would be better that the books don't have any reference to game.I don't know if I was a writer I don't think so I would write a book to just promote a MMORPG.
Altough,I hope it becomes a bestseller.That was the exact thing I was talking about in forums that our community is much more awesome than others. | Hey,
I'm getting pretty good feedback via PM (though I think I'd still like to see them on this thread for better organization). Still haven't decided on specifics yet though. Keep'em coming. =)
In response to Z and Blazingarpit:
Actually, back when I originally wrote the Chronicles of Skunder I asked Arctic to speak with the Twins (admins) about possibly sponsoring an ongoing series of books (written by me). They declined. So, I made these books for myself and the community. As such, the books have been adapted into a new world. Though similar to LWM (and therefore HoMM) it is truly its own project with many interwoven storylines and specifics having nothing to do with the aforementioned games. | | Congrats Skunder! I hope your books will be a great success. I remember when I read the chronicles, you really proved that you can do it. |
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