06601030301800 6L....T....T....T....T....T....T....T....T....T....T....T....T....R € ‰The Meeting of Melchoth and Prince Trajan Al' Doriak.€ Prince Doriak of Bellin was the only survivor of the Battle of the Blue Marches. Captured by the foul troops of Melchoth, Doriak was spirited away to the Keep of Melchoth, bound in heavy chains, horribly wounded and pained with hunger. The prince awoke in a large cavern in front of huge fountain of black stone from which a erie green flame flickered. A shadowy figure appeared, tall, with flowing robes of strange style and foul odor. A horrible voice came from the spectre. The prince winced at the sound of it, as if his head would burst from the next uttered word. "I am Melchoth. Look and see me, remember me, and despair" the small green flame of the fountain burned with a new intensity, illuminating the horrid visage of Melchoth. Prince Doriak, weakened and wounded as he was, could scarcely remain standing as he looked upon him. "I am Melchoth. Look upon my right hand. See it, and dispair." The flame of the fountain took upon the appearance of a vast host. Vanshirae hordes far as the eye could percieve, Oxen- headed men inumerable, feasting upon the flesh of fallen warriors of Althath, and the tiny riders of beasts swarming across the fair lands of Bellin, leaving trails of fire and death. Doriak cried out in anguish, staggered and fell to the floor, hatred burning in his eyes as he gazed at the vision in the flames. "I am Melchoth. Look upon my left hand. See it, and dispair." The visions swirled and changed. Now appeared the fallen troops of Bellin, Veresov and other Althath nations, marching southward to the Carrion peaks. All with empty eyes and decaying flesh. Leading the unholy host was a great captain of the Ox-headed race, with the skulls of a full twoscore foes upon his belt and a axe as big a man slung across his shoulders. At this sight Prince Doriak did despair. If even the dead of his and his allies host were raised against them, what hope was there? Again the voice rang out: " I am Melchoth. Look upon my Eyes. See them, and dispair." The flames then brought vision of the 4 highest peaks of the Blue Ridges. Upon each sat a being without form. Each of which held a crystal sphere in unseen hands. With these they looked hither and yon upon the Althath lands, into the very courts of Bellin, across the seas and into the valleys. Nothing remained hidden from thier seeking gazes. " I am Melchoth. Look upon my Heart. Know it, and Despair." The heart of Melchoth was revealed to Doriak. Conquest and destruction of all the Althath lands. Enslavement of it peoples and the buildings of vast armadas to cross the seas to far off lands. " I am Melchoth. Look upon my Strength. Fear it, and despair." appearing in the flames were a staff, a Book, a sword and a chalice. "I am Melchoth. I shall conquer. The lands are mine, the peoples are mine. You alone have seen all my might, you alone have this choice. Serve me and live the life of captain in my mighty hosts. Or die, and your flesh shall be devoured, your bones ground to dust and scattered upon the winds." " The sword you have seen, it awaits a mighty captain, a man of valor and strength to wield it. I cannot wield it for myself, as you, a mortal man, can." With a sweep of his had, Doriaks chains fell to the ground. "Look upon the flame once more, and see my rewards" The prince looked upon the flames. Seeing himself, dressed as a King, fed by ladies of great beauty, showered with gold and silver and flowers. Nations shook at his name, hosts fell to knees and submitted to his will. " Wield the blade as my captain, and you shall rule all of Althath as my governor." A shadowy hand outstretched and offered an ancient rune covered blade. The sword writhed and shuddered, outlined with the same green flames as the fountain. Doriak, weakened and disheartened, limply reached and grasp the sword. Instantly, Doriak was strengthed. The sword, pulsing with energy, imparted some small part of it to his wounded body. A hideous laugh came from Melchoth "Ha, now i percieve that you see things in thier proper perspective. You shall command my legions and we shall rule all of Althath and beyond. Now, come to me, bend your knee to me, and make your pledge to me." Prince Doriak, strengthened by the foul sword, now stood and approached Melchoth. In front of the foul spectre, Doriak bent his knee and extended the sword to Melchoth. " I, Prince Tarjan Al' Doriak of Bellin, do solemnly swear by the powers that be, that from this very moment hence that i shall do all that is within my power...." Swiftly Doriak rose, lunging forward at the same time, thrusting the sword into the body of Melchoth. ".... to Avenge my brethern and my people!" The sword cut deep into the belly of Mechoth and withdrew, covered with red blood. Melchoth shrieked and stepped backwards, gesturing wildly with hands and swiftly speaking in unknown tongues. " Ahhh, so your blood runs red as mine foul one. See „my€ fury, and despair!" Doriak advanced with sword raised high. Melchoth gestured once again with hands and pointed to the Prince. Lightning lanced outwards, striking him and severing his shield arm, and blinding him in his left eye. The blow lifted the prince into the air, flinging him to th4e foot of the fountain of Flame. the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. " Fool!, I have offered you the world, power beyond your hopes and dreams. Ha!, now I shall destroy you, and add your body to my legion of dead!" Lifting himself to the edge of the fountain, flesh still smoldering , the prince replied. "You were the fool, to think you could win my heart. Now, you seek to win my body, you shall fail at that too!" The prince then lifted himself up, stood, swaying before the fountain and laughing, he flung the sword, then himself, into the green flames of the fountain......