Prolouge

Just a little intro.

    For hundreds of years, everyone has talked about one object of power. An object that could change the face of Iridise. It's commonly referred to as the Touran. For many centuries, residents of Iridise have searched for this mighty artifact. Even the current kings of the land are searching for it. Little did they know, it was already located by a master of magick, a Shadowos Arconas.
      The Shadowos Arconas, Shadower for short, were a specific sect of magick users. Their numbers were few, considering the amount of time and effort it took to become as master as compared to the other schools of magic. Most intermediate level Shadowers can use all forms of magic, but at a lesser level than a master. This particular master that found the Black Light hadn't been looking for it. As He'd been working on a new form of magick, he'd burnt a whole through the side of a mountain. A black and silver jewel had fallen slowly from a perch it was embedded with. As the master picked it up, he felt a surge of power unlike any he had ever experienced. After a bit of research, he found it to be the Touran. An object as powerful as this was simply hidden in the side of a rock. Who knew.
      But with great power, came greedy souls. Though he tried to keep it a secret from everyone, including his apprentice, the master could not hide the Touran. Eventually, greedy kings, bandits, warlords, and hordes of people were knocking on his doorstep. Taking the only apprentice he'd ever trusted, he fled, running as fast as he could towards the mountains. He created a massive wall of ice, blocking the path, then escaped to the unexplored side of the rocky area. For many years he lived in peace, training his apprentice to one day be the greatest magus alive, and the new bearer of the Touran. But soon, the two's hideout was found by a cult who worshiped the Touran as a god's weapon, and sought to recover it. Hundreds of men surrounded the little cottage that the master had made. The blasted it with everything they had, from spells to arrows to whatever they could throw. At the end of the attack, the master stood in the middle of the destroyed house, a shield surrounding him and the apprentice. With a yell of rage, he killed many of the assailants. But they overwhelmed him. By this time, his apprentice had run into the wild on instruction, hiding for 4 days and nights before he finally came back. In the midst of the rubble, he found a dieing man. The master. The mast had used the last of his strength to sustain his life long enough to explain to the apprentice:" You are now the barer of the Touran....They took a fake from me...Do not....let it fall....into their....hands....." As he touched his master's hand, a black light shone from his forearm. it was in the shape of a jewel, a black jewel. As he rose from his masters dead body, he clenched his teeth. He was going to get revenge, even if it cost him his life.

Author's Note

I liked this idea more and more after I thought about it. A quest for a magical artifact, and the man holding it on the path of vengeance. Tell me what you think.

Reviews

[Ironside]

Sounds like astart a good story.

[karmic]

Sounds like a pretty cool story so far. I'd like to meet the characters you set up for it.

[Darruesh Eetraydes]

Hmmm very interesting. Can't wait to see how it turns out