Chapter 1: Overture

Achilon kneeled before the throne. The elf felt an evil aura approach but he didn't know from where. Suddenly from above the black throne a hooded figure descended down from the sky. From where, Achilon did not know. The dark lord was covered in cloak and shadow when his body rested into his seat. Achilon bowed low then saw the boney hand of the dark lord motioning for him to rise. Achilon's leathers and mages coat smoothed out as he rose to his feet. He looked into the shadow of the dark lords hood and saw only his left eye glowing unnaturally. He seemed old and frail but none the less frightening.

"My Lord, my eternal god. You have summoned me to your glorious abode. How may I be of your service?" He said confidently. Secretly, he feared death. The acts he had been committing would make any lord want to kill him. The elven undertaker Stole bodies and mutilated them. He tested all kinds of magic and technology to reanimated the dead with no success. This is what made him flee from other elvish lands. He had never been to this land and  this was his first time in any court. Although he knew the formalities.

"I know what you have been doing Achilon." The lords voice was powerful and deep. "I should have you killed." 

Achilon flared up with guilt then went down onto his knees and was about to beg for mercy, but his fear was so great he could not speak. A dark grey mist spewed from the the dark lords cloak; seemingly from his body. Then a slow heavy laugh came from the ruler. 

"Rise, I do not intend to killed you. In fact, I am intrigued. I will give you the magic you desire." He said as the grey mist spilled onto the ground infront of the old man. Achilon was stunned. He asked confused "What do you mean?" 

"Achilon, I know you want the reanimation of the dead. Not for others sake but for you're own immortality. I will give you both. For a price."

"My... my lord I am just a humble servant." Achilons voice quivered.

"Achilon, you cannot fool me. My blood is of the gods. Now take my offer or simply leave to the dungeons and shortly afterwards I will have you executed. My guards will escort you now if you wish." The dark lord gloated.

Then he held out his hand and in it a giant eye floated above. Then it floated to Achilon and in its pupil the image of the elf mutilating bodies and using spells on them. Achilon's eyes widened. Oddly seeing himself work gave him some excitement. Then he looked at the dark lord high on his throne. He had no other choice. 

"You said there was a price, my lord. Since I have to accept your gifts what is it that I must give in return?" Achilon asked but some how he already knew.

"Indeed. You will raise an undead army in my service for the rest of your life. I see greatness in it and in you." The dark lord proclaimed. The evil elf wasn't sure if he was lying or not.

Achilon knew that the lord would make him his servant, but to raising an undead army? He didn't expect that. Lost in everything that had happened he didn't realize that the mist had gathered around him. With a lordly grace the dark lord rose and brought out his thin hand. The magic eye floated behind his right shoulder and watched as a magic aura charged around his hand which then spread down into the mist and around the elf. Then the frail hand formed a fist. In that moment the mist and magic covered Achilon in a shell of power and evil divinity. The magic bled into the body of the scared elf. When all the magic was done seeping into every inch of him the mist exploded from the pressure. His skin was now black, his teeth sharp, and his eyes sparkled of foul magic. He listened and heard. He heard the spirits of the undead all around him. Thousands of gernations. They told him things he couldnt understand yet.

"Your first act as my warden of the dead is to go to Bermong town. Raise the undead in the cemetery and kill the entire town then raise them back as your servant. Come back here with your army."

"Yes my lord. Bermong isn't in your realm. Do you want me to leave your mark or leave in silence?" Now he spoke with real confidence. Remembering the calling cards he had left on his previous raids.

"You left your marks while grave robbing why stop now?" The dark lord said. 

Achilon bowed gracefully and set off to do his task. The dark lord waved for his slaves leaving him alone. He floated into the air once more only to teleport to a mountain range beside the dark fortress. He tossed off his cloak. Instead of an old frail lord, there stood a fair faced young man. Though, this was no man but Markon the god who helped run world. He smiled as he sat watching his minion traveling away from the dark realm. 

"Monologue time." Markon said as he slowly began to fade from the mortal realm. "I brought this world into existence. Now if nobody rises up to stop me I will take it out. Slowly. I will bring this world to an end. But, after all I have to enjoy myself while doing it. Whats the fun in just ending it all. The other gods have no clue what I am doing. They think I am neutral in mortal affairs. Just a simple creationist god. Half the time they don't even know what Im doing. Which makes this interesting cause now that Im talking to myself out loud I don't even know what they're doing half the time. Huh... Gods. I suppose I should pay them a visit..." he said as his avatar disappeared into the God realm...