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Delayed
Chapter one – Mistake after Mistake part I - History
Over five thousand years ago, the world of Loradorn was ravaged by the clan wars. There was so much death and destruction that even the dread lords could not stand it anymore. It seemed that the whole world had gone mad and thought only of killing day after day.
In the end the clan leaders saw that they had lost control over their own people. They could no longer stop the war by commanding their people to stop fighting in fear they would be dethroned and replaced over and over again. A chain reaction that would lead the world into an era of chaos it might not survive.
Realizing what was at stake, they met one night in secret to discuss what they could do. All the great leaders of the time had gathered there despite their differences: Malmanor, the demon lord, leader of the un-dead; Duramil the mountain-king, leader of the dwarves; Alianis the elf queen; Syranoth the human king; and Serafas, the leader of the magical community that ruled over the spell casters of every clan.
They had met in the Kendari plains at castle Sundara. A neutral ground governed by Serafas and his wizards. The ground itself was imbued with magic that did not allow neither violence nor killing upon, hence the perfect place for enemies to discuss more important matters than each other’s demise.
“This pointless ongoing massacre isn’t doing anyone any good,” Syranoth shouted hitting the round table they were sitting at.
“For once we agree,” Malmanor said approvingly.
“Well what do ya say we do?” the mountain king said caressing his long grey beard.
A silence filled the room because no one knew what to say. That was why they had all agreed to meet, because no one knew what to do and everyone there hoped someone else would have ideas.
“As I see it,” Serafas said with a soft voice. “The only way the clans will stop fighting is if they have nothing to fight.”
“Leave it to a human to state the obvious,” Duramil mockingly.
“Perhaps there is wisdom in his words,” Alianis stated on a melodious voice.
After everyone had stopped arguing, Serafas told them about his plan to use the ancient magic of the world to separate the clans. He had learned that the ancient wizards of the world had first used them to bring the world together, dreaming of utopia. Seeing how they had failed, the new leaders of the world were prepared to separate the world and change it back into the way it used to be.
They were each given a sceptre they would have to place in the capital of their world and one night, under the Black Moon, they would activate at the same time and morphing the ground.
All the while the wizard spoke, the human king had remained silent and still. Only when asked by the others if he agreed to it he simply nodded his head without saying a word.
Before leaving, the clan leaders were given one final instruction by the wizard. They had to destroy the sceptre a year later, when the process would be over, on the night of the Black Moon of that year as soon as the sceptres stopped glowing. If they failed to do so, then the sceptre would curse them forever. Moreover, the wizard demanded they brought back proof, a shard of the sceptre.
The day of the Black Moon came and in perfect unison, the five sceptres activated and fueling themselves with the magic of the world, they began to change it. First the world split in two, separating the world of man, which took up a third of Loradorn, from the rest. Next, the other part was split in five even pieces. One was made of the high mountain ranges of Thu’len populated by the dwarves. The second was the vast forest of Noriendel protected by the elves. The third was up the volcanic plains of Morganor where the demons had first spawned. The last two were the barren desert Dorn and the grasslands of Meonir.
In one year, the world morphed into its original form and the night of the Black Moon came again. But none of the clan leaders did as they were told. Each hid the sceptre away and demanded they met with Serafas on Meonir.
The wizard went there at once, fearing one had betrayed the others and had not destroyed the sceptre. But upon arriving there, he had only enough time to see that they had all gone against their world before being killed.
Five thousand years later, the war has come to a halt but the curse of the sceptre had only begun to ‘reward’ the clans…

i like it...mai pune:D

mai vrei? bn... da numa tu?

Chapter two – Mistake after Mistake part II – Repercussions
The betrayal of the four leaders scarred the world beyond anyone’s hope to change it back. Not only was the land itself changed by the magic of the sceptres but also every living being in its proximity.
The elves closest to the sceptre in Noriendel started to change. They became taller and bulkier. Also the colour of their skin became a dark, dirty purple. The two canines on their bottom jaw grew five times longer, their nose grew long and pointy, more so than their ears. Their behaviour also changed and they became more aggressive and stopped acting the way the elves altogether. Eventually they started calling themselves trolls. Another thing that changed about them was that they stopped using magic in the old ways because magic had become a part of them.
The rest of the elves ran away when the changes first appeared and fled to the coast, leaving the sceptre behind. There they watched how the trolls had even given up using magic in the old ways because magic was a part of them. Their wounds healed faster and being stronger and faster than the originals, they saw no point in using magic.
From the clan of the trolls, other, more disfigured creatures emerged. One larger, even bulkier version of their trolls. The skin of the more evolved version turned light green, their fangs were shorter and their incredibly acute senses were replaced by an enormous brute strength. The new clan called themselves the orcs.
The elves were not the only ones to change. The dwarves also suffered changes that led to the emergence of two new breeds. One was a shorter, skinnier creature with dark skin like a dirty grey the dwarves called goblins.
But unlike the elves, the dwarves were not driven away from their mountains. Instead they pushed the goblins deeper into the mountains along with the sceptre that had caused their problems.
After locking the goblins away in the deepest regions of the Thu’len mountains the dwarves thought they had escaped the power of the sceptre. But changes still appeared in some of them. They grew larger and more disfigured with each generation. Children were born with three hands or four legs. Later on their faces changed, giving them three or one eye or two mouths. Until one generation the curse had stabilised and some children started being born with two heads.
The misshapen progenies were at first only one palm taller than the other children were. But with each generation they grew larger and larger until a full grown of the new clan was four times larger than their shorter cousins were, which made them twice the size of men.
But they were driven out of the mountains by the dwarves because they feared what would happen to them if they were kept around. It was more than obvious they had been affected by the power of the sceptre and the dwarves wanted nothing more than to get them as far away as possible from them.
Living on the outside of the mountains made them even stronger and even fiercer than the orcs. But the initial confusion of being driven way affected their minds. Their thinking had slowly been replaced by an amazing survival instinct that was developed in the harsh conditions of the mountains that were constantly covered in snow.
Because the developed their own language consisted of roars, grunts and gnarls, the dwarves called them by the sound they used the most: ogres.
The ones unaffected or almost unaffected by the mysterious powers of the sceptres were the humans and the undead horrors of Morganor.
It was easy to see why the undead had not been morphed. They either no longer had a living body or they had used already so much magic to changed their bodies, they had become immune. The only thing that changed was how they used magic. The necromancers had discovered new magic and new ways to change their body but their original form did not change too much. The ones that benefited from the sceptres were the dread lords, liches and other powerful undead or demonic creatures that seemed to grow stronger and more resilient.
However, no one seemed to know why the humans had not been affected by the sceptre’s power. In fact, the wizards seemed to grow more powerful and had a control of the magical forces around them that almost equalled that of the elves. Another side-effect was that all humans seemed to live longer and in turn grew stronger than they had been in the past.
The humans called their lands Arandor and it quickly became a safe haven for everyone who wanted to escape their worlds or the new aggressive clans. A few dwarves and elves started living with the humans, making the world of man a powerful empire that watched over the rest of Loradorn.

E misto povestea..imi place cum au aparut noile clanuri si faptul ca oamenii sunt un pic mai puternici..imi place si liderul oamenilor..

Chapter three – The Drums of War
Leading the humans in the new age, king Arandun, the third king of the house Arandel, had ruled much like his predecessors had, without having to worry too much about the rest of the world. Under the guidance of his father and grandfather, his people had lived in peace.
Having been crowned at the age of forty, due to his father’s mysterious death, he was the youngest king to sit on the throne in over five hundred years and many had feared he was probably too young to receive such a great responsibility. But the king proved them wrong both by appointing an elf and a wizard as his councillors but also by improving their army and making it grow stronger then it had been during his father.
But during his reign, many had attempted to overthrow him and take the crown for themselves. Rival noblemen, a few generals of his army and even his own kin, cousins or uncles, had tried to push him aside and rule Arandor as they saw fit. During those times, Arandun had no one to fall back on, no one would support a king that was already in a difficult position because of his age. His losing his power had always been a possibility and few of his subjects had ever truly been loyal to him to the end.
However, in the end the young king managed to remain the ruler of men against all odds and because he had had such a difficult time during his first year, many had started to admire or fear him.
Many of his knights were the ones who admired him and some of them eventually became his new generals, having proven that they were trustworthy. And with the appointment of the new generals, the king was able to increase his influence over his subjects who saw him in a whole new light. He was no longer a young man given a too great responsibility, he had become, in their eyes, a strong and determined young king that was worthy of their respect.
Unfortunately, not all felt the same way. Because of his growing power, many started to fear what he might do with it. His age being the constant motive for many to see him unfit to rule all of Arandor in such dangerous times. Many of the noblemen believed they were the rightful leaders of the kingdom of men and not the young man that had only received the crown because he was the prince. To make matters worse, many had attempted to get him off the throne by having him assassinated, seeing as politics were of no use and the people liked him more and more with every passing day. But even though they had hired the best assassins, the magic of the wizards and elves that lived at the palace alerted the young king of any dangers before they happened.
Eventually, the young king had established himself as king and none dare oppose him. And not a moment too soon, one evening, while the king was walking alone in the palace gardens, a strange magic blocked out the moon and made the night darker than a battlefield’s smoke.
Arandun remained still until he heard someone walking somewhere nearby, only a few feet away.
“Who goes there?” he shouted.
He received no answer for several minutes and he was starting to get nervous when the footsteps stopped. Then a devilish laughter was heard like an echo circling around him. The king pulled out his sword and started slashing at things around him, desperately trying to defend himself. He was screaming and slashing with his sword in the darkness that surrounded him and acted like a madman or a wolf caught in a trap. Finally, he hit something and once his sword finally found a target he kept slashing in that direction and found yet another victim to fall to his sword.
He stopped when he heard the noise of two corpses falling to the ground but a few seconds later, the moon appeared out of the darkness and revealed his victims: his two councilors, the elf and the wizard, both representatives of their clan. Arandun fell to his knees with his blood covered sword still in his sword and stared at the lifeless corpses in front of him. He only woke up when the guards came to him and shook him out of it. When they asked him what made him kill his councilors he told them about the moon being hidden and hearing a laughter around him. The guards looked at him with confused and doubting looks.
“But sire, the moon was never blocked out,” one of the guards explained.
Arandun could not explain what had happened but he was convinced that a darkness clouded his vision and he only killed his victims by accident. However, word of his murders soon reached the ears of both the wizards and elves and although they did not ask he was punished, the leaders of the two clans met one night and decided they would sever all ties with Arandor.
That night, as the wizard and elf leaders left Arandun’s castle, a cloaked figure stood on the edge of a cliff and watched everything. It slightly lifted it’s head, revealing a gray skin and smiled.
“The drums… can you hear the drums, Arandun?” he said and then disappeared in a cloud of black smoke.

super...da` m-am km kinuit pn am tradus unele cuv ) eh, in fine, super!!

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