Chapter 1

Melcantin poured over the latest magical tome he had found. Unlike his brother, Aarkleon, he chose to augment his latent eldritch powers with magical spells, which he seemed to have more of a knack for than the blades of a warrior. This latest book was the most difficult to acquire, very difficult to track down and even more difficult to pay for. The merchant had no desire for money, he dealt only in exceptionally rare items and had asked for a dragon's heart enchanted to continue beating forever. These items were expressly forbidden because you had to kill a dragon to create such a n item and dragons are some of the most highly revered beings in the world, second only to the gods themselves. Melcantin, however, held no such beliefs or reverance. He, unlike his kinsfolk, worshipped Necraval, the master of death, as the most powerful being and since Necraval hated dragons, Melcantin had no qualms about the task he had performed. Although, if Melcantin were being completely honest, he couldn't actually remember defeating the beast. He knew the fight had ended quickly but couldn't remember the spell he had used to defeat it. He didn't have tike to consider this, however as he was preoccupied with the tome he had acquired as a result. It was a tome of magic that was strictly speaking illegal. The spellbook of a dark wizard who had died so long ago that his name was no longer remembered. The spell he sought was very dark magic, darker even than the one used by his father to harness a demon to help him rape Melcantin's mother. Melcantin was frustrated though, the book was so old that it was in a language that was all but forgotten and in the case of himself, never known at all.