At The Heart of it All

 Somewhere at the heart of it all there has been a throne. It was built right after the old man died. Hah. Old man. No one else would dare refer to him as such. Then again, none would call him a backstabbing power monger either. No one would wish to see him bled dry for his betrayal. Everyone loved him.

Everything that was once golden here has been caked in decay. All the treasures, lush lands, and strength of spirit was killed. Stolen from him. He was getting quite old now, and it seemed revenge was all that was left in his heart. It could well be the one spark still keeping him alive. Funny how a long burning flame seemed to sum it all up.

His once golden gauntlet, now dark and tarnished, scraped against the arm of his high backed throne. His chamber was near empty, save for a few armed warriors. Their long beards hung to the floor. Long had their vigil been in guarding their master. There near lifeless formed turned in shock to see their King moving in his seat of power. How long had it been? Six hundred? Seven hundred years since last he spoke?

The sounds of his armor creaking reverberated through the high vaulted hall. Tattered rotting banners seemed to flap in an impossible breeze. The lines of near dead templars fell to their knees. They could hear the mountain come to life. Soon it would again shoot forth geysers of the earths blood. Red hot liquid fire would be seen in the sky for hundreds of miles in all directions. All would know the king was awake, and those who still feared him would come to his service. They would all come to his service.

For six hundred and forty years a plan had been forming. Powers had been gathered. This was his last chance at revenge. Ancient and unyielding, he rose to his feet, and spoke in the tongue of ancient men, fifteen words that would change history forever.

“If not can we have all that once ours was, take shall we all that isn't.”

Praises to Chimaus!

 All hail Chimaus the Eldest !

All glory to the Dragon King!