Prologue: Nekron

This is something that has been brewing in my brain for a while now. I think I have a start for my series and with one of the most intriguing characters in it. I think I’ve decided to tell this story through the eyes of two of my more prominent characters. Or at least have prologues through them and then the final just be through everyone’s eyes. We will see. I’m planning for it to be a trilogy. And I’m just going to work my way through.

Note: Told from Nekron’s POV


There are too many people claiming the title of ‘villain’ nowadays. One has only to kidnap a princess or destroy a town and their names are suddenly spoken in hushed whispers. Ridiculous. There are some of us who actually had to work for our title.

Now mind you this was back in the day where the peoples of the land worshiped and appeased the gods of our world. Truthfully it was because they were fearful of what the not so benevolent gods would do if they were not appeased. At least that is my opinion anyway.

Oh. You are probably wondering how I’ve ended up locked away in this tower with naught but parchment and ink. All right all right it’s more than that. I at least have a bed to sleep in, a hearth to keep me warm on the chilly nights, a window, barred of course to make sure I don’t escape, a shelf with some books on it, a desk complete with a candle parchment and scrolls.

And don’t forget a pitcher for water and a chamber pot. Because gods above know that we haven’t found plumbing yet. Or at least innovated it like the Elves have.

Oh…and a set of bracers on my wrists, engraved with binding runes so I am unable to perform magic.

I suppose it could be worse.

Ah now you are wondering about my bracers. Excellent question, you see they tie in with the whole villain thing. They are a symbol and a reminder that not only did I earn my title, but I earned my punishment.

They could have killed me you know..for everything I did. But I did it all for them. I did it all for him. My idiot brother.

Yes. He is an idiot. Not so much now as when my journey began. He’s got advisors now, men and women on his council from races all over our world, keeping him in check. To be honest I’m proud of him. How far he’s come and where he is going.

It’s a pity that I’m locked in here and cannot enjoy his company.

Oh don’t look at me that way.

Fine…I was under the influence of the god of Death…well rather his radical lover Nerezza. Mirrikh is actually a nice fellow a good fellow really. He had a few tantrums here and there, took over the body of the most powerful druid in legend but then was kicked out and had this epic duel with his brother…

Forgive me I’m getting ahead of myself. Don’t want to give any spoilers now do I. This isn’t about the God Battle or the Arch Druid. This is my story after all.

Which began about twenty years ago.

I was just a mere apprentice then. Learning the basics and beginnings of magic…just as all mages do when they start. I had the gift you see. A gift to create illusion and make things happen that defied the laws of science. No one had actually been as naturally gifted as I which makes my story even more unique.

“But that’s how alot of…”

Silence you uneducated peanut. Who is telling the story. Me or you? This isn’t your run of the mill wizard child who spent the majority of his adolescence fighting off a dark lord and choosing to love instead of hate. Nor is this a battle for a throne made of iron by warring families.

“Yeah but -”

Oh bloody hell this isn’t a story of some halfling throwing a cursed ring into a fiery mountain of doom and destruction either!

This is my story. All those stories you’re thinking of are heroic stories. But no one, not a single person asks or even considers our side and I swear if you interrupt me one more time you idiot walnut I will…well I’ll find a way to strangle you.

Now do me a favor and pick up the quill and parchment. You’re going to write this.

And start it off this way:

Our story begins twenty years ago…


Who is this figure that is interrupting Nekron while he is trying to give his Narrative?

We don’t know.


~The Brooding Dragon


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