Alex McCann Johnson has been hard at work on the Vindico series for years, and now it has been repackaged in one expansive and amazing book.  Vindico: I Am Liberation, I Am Punishment, and I Am Judgment follows the symbol of hope that the world needs, the immortal, titular character, Vindico.  It’s a must read for those who want to see mythological fantasy blended together deftly with modern realism.

Since Vindico’s birth, many have risked their lives to save him. He carries a heavy destiny as the immortal’s last hope for an afterlife. Along his journey, he forms relationships with many who are each in their own unique battle with mortality.

Apollo, at the request of the gods, was sent to assist Vindico on his quest, and a challenging friendship ensues. Zirk is a suicide victim who has been cursed with immortality after his fatal fall, and he offers help as he looks to escape his curse. Logan, a kind-hearted mortal, is requested by Vindico to bring on a new age, even if it means going against the government. They all have one thing in common – Vindico’s choices will affect them forever.

When the war that every religion has predicted begins, mythological figures use our world as their battleground. Will humanity be lost, or will Vindico find a way to save both mortals and immortals? A unique blend of fantasy and reality, Vindico brings mythical beings to brilliant life and offers a new hero for the ages.

Johnson’s Vindico collection rebranded is a steal.  It’s a massive epic the likes of which readers won’t soon forget, and it’s one that’s hard to put down as well.  It’s ambitious and gripping along with being through-provoking and clever.  If you want to read an urban fantasy rooted in mythological lore with world-shattering stakes, this is the book for you.  Check out Vindico: I Am Liberation, I Am Punishment, and I Am Judgment on Amazon today!

The post Urban Fantasy Promo – Vindico: I Am Liberation, I Am Punishment, and I Am Judgment appeared first on Tellest.

Murray Lee Eiland Jr. has already charmed us twice before with his Orfeo Saga.  The Sword of Telemon and The Emperor of Babylon have showed us a perfect balance of action, drama, romance and adventure. Now, with those two tales under his belt, Eiland Jr. hopes to take us on another glorious ride with the heroes we know.  The third book in the Orfeo Saga, Zurga’s Fire, boasts all that we expect from the author and more.

The Getae inhabited the region on either side of the Lower Danube River, in what is today northern Bulgaria and southern Romania. They were in contact with ancient Greeks from an early date. Herodotus – writing in the 5th century BC – extols their martial spirit: “…when it lightens and thunders, they aim their arrows at the sky, uttering threats against the god; and they do not believe that there is any god but their own.”

They ruthlessly incorporate conquered people into their society through enslavement, and are prepared to kill those who are not useful to their plans. They have no need for the luxuries of city life. Fighting in troops of mounted archers, they mock individual heroes. Getae have a long history of reducing enemies in deadly hails of arrows while not getting close enough to lose warriors in single combat. Here Orfeo and his warriors must deal with an expanding Getae empire during the heroic age of Greece. Vastly outnumbered, can they stop an invasion that threatens not only their lives, but also their entire culture?

With the characters growing into themselves a little more, and interesting new ones added to the intriguing plot, this proves to be one of the most appealing books in the series.  And if you want to hear even better news, know that this isn’t where the Orfeo Saga ends!  Be sure to pick up Zurga’s Fire now on Amazon.  You won’t regret it!

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Wendy Ann Zellea manages to put together an almost spiritual experience with Saving Atlantis.  It’s crafted in a manner that’s very deliberate, a modern myth in its own right.  This tale is sure to empower a series of its own, strengthened by intriguing, thought provoking messages.

The Atlantean Crew had been coming to the modern world for years. On the last mission, they had become stranded, after the portals closed. The energetic integrity of Atlantis was compromised. Even some members of the Law of One had been infiltrated by lower vibrating energies.

Zi’antha’s father was the leader of the crew that could not return. Her mission was to save him, although how she would accomplish this, she did not know.

When Annie, a woman from New Jersey, began to chat online with a man who claimed to be in Atlantis, little did she know that she would be instrumental in saving the Atlantean crew and Saving Atlantis.

Travel inter-dimensionally to Atlantis during the last days before the fall where the most enlightened beings, must use all their powers and gifts to try and save their beloved land.

Pyramids, stone circles, crystals, vortexes and romance! It’s got it all!

Zellea is no stranger to the written word.  She’s written countless works in the field of spiritual growth, but this is the first “New Era” piece that she’s worked on.  Show her your love by checking out Saving Atlantis on Amazon today!

The post Mythological Fantasy Promo – Saving Atlantis appeared first on Tellest.

That’s why it is a privilege to introduce you to Murray Lee Eiland Jr and the first book in The Orfeo Saga, The Sword of Telemon.  The author deftly weaves his story with interesting characters, a world that seems both familiar and exotic, and beautiful prose.  Eiland Jr writes in such a way that you don’t just feel drawn to the story, you somehow feel transported to it—a storyteller’s ultimate victory.

A young Achaean prince (from northern ancient Greece) is captured in a raid. His younger brother Orfeo, and a group of warriors are sent on a mission to look for him. Telemon, a legendary warrior, and Zurga, an elderly wanderer, are soon joined by Clarice, a girl who is a master of disguise. To their dismay they find that the kidnapped prince has been made a galley slave and that the maritime power of Thera plans to conquer the entire Mediterranean. Can they avert disaster?

If you should find yourself interested in this wonderfully crafted tale, you can purchase the first book in The Orfeo Saga on Amazon. The Sword of Telemon has been earning high praise there, and it’s easy to see why!

The post Mythological Fantasy Promo – The Sword of Telemon appeared first on Tellest.

I would be delighted if you’d give this final novella in the first volume of Tales of Tellest a gander.  This particular story was most definitely a labor of love, and I think it shows… it may just be your favorite Tellest book yet.

Icarus must intervene before a wicked ritual is completed, or humanity will be banished from the world of Tellest forevermore. But his people, the elves, have determined that humans are too dangerous to share the realm. How can he protect the friends that he has made without betraying his race?

Samael is a man scorned, whose only desire is to enact vengeance on those who have wronged him. However, his involvement is the deciding factor in the call to banish humanity. For the sake of all the races of Tellest, he must work with Icarus to put a halt to the foul dealings.

The Fall is now available on Amazon!

The post The Fall Released! appeared first on Tellest.

Today, we have a special treat for you.  This is the beginning of a new story, which is going to take us away from The Fall for a little bit.  This tale is a lot more personal, without any groundbreaking revelations or world-troubling conflicts.

No, this one follows a man from the pseudo-Indian city of Lakmari, a beautiful place where everyone is happy and healthy.  But surely no place like that could be without its secrets.  Read on to see what a new hero experiences in his time among the people.

Remembered in Gold
Part One

The commotion outside woke him well before he heard the distant silver bell.  Kunal rose to see his house had emptied, his mother and sister having already vacated their home.

The Gathering had come once more to the city of Lakmari.

Kunal rolled from his bed and scooped the discarded vest from the floor.  As he moved toward the exit, he brought it overhead and pressed his body through it, bumping into the doorway as he went.

He skittered down the steps, stumbling several times but managing to stay upright as he dismissed his waning stupor.  He only hesitated for a moment at the exit of his home.  There, a mirror revealed his disheveled appearance.  He licked his fingers and set to work on his dark, tousled hair.  He shrugged, finding himself acceptable.

When he opened the door, the commotion was already overwhelming.

“Did I already miss the selection?” he whispered.

The streets ran rampant with the fervor of those rushing toward the palace.  Lakmari was not known for being one of the biggest cities in Lustra, but when that silver bell rung, everyone paid heed.  Kunal turned to the north, looking at the distant, ornate instrument situated above the palace gates.

Even from his home, the young man could see the crowd converging on the white marble steps.  He brought his hand up to his dark eyebrows to stave off the morning sun.  While scanning his fair city, he was nearly slammed back into his home by an eager man’s broad shoulder.

“Hey!” he cried.

“Get to it, boy,” the man offered, spinning about briefly.  “Before long, you’ll be better off watching the ceremony from the roof of your house.”

As he ran off, Kunal was left to contemplate those words.  His brow furled as he watched the crowd filter through the streets.  They bounced against each other, led like sheep by a royal shepherd.  The man who had bumped into him was right.  Against that tide, he would never have a satisfactory vantage.

No, what he needed was a pair of wings.

While the people of Lakmari bleated and made their way toward the palace, Kunal slipped around to the side of his house.  That far north, each home sat tightly packed together.  The young man could nearly extend both arms out wide and have a hand on each abode.  But he was not content to merely touch the stone walls.

Without hesitation, he sprung against the side of his house and bounced off it.  He shifted in the air and mimicked the action on his neighbor’s home, rising with each hop.  Before long, he hoisted himself to his wooden roof.

Kunal took a moment to steady his arms and legs.  Though he had drawn no closer to the palace, the grand silver bell seemed somehow bigger.  He could almost read the etchings on its side.  As he scrutinized the oversized instrument, it rang out again, tilting forward toward the people that neared it.

The young man rose to his feet.  It would not be long before the Gathering proceeded and the prince of Lakmari took to the stage to announce the selection.  Clapping his hands together, he rid himself of the dirt on his palms.

He burst forward, quickly reaching a full sprint atop the slight slant of the roof.  Before long, he reached the edge, though he did not begin to waver in his pace.  He leapt out, pulling his legs in close as he crossed the gap between that house and the next.  While the people below pressed against each other in a futile attempt to reach the palace, Kunal raced across rooftops, far outpacing them.  Swinging around chimneys, leaping over laundry lines, and balancing across slanted eaves, Kunal moved in haste.  Before long, he arrived at the last house before the pale gardens.

A sea of white marble stretched out before him, paths swirling this way and that toward the palace exterior.  Between the paths, vibrant wildflowers grew among a verdant expanse.  Leafy trees grew about here and there, offering some shade among the paths.  No one dared traipse upon the flowers, though.

Kunal landed upon bent knee on the marble rail below and hopped down to the path.  Briefly, he was among the crowd, sifting through them as they carried him like a tide toward their destination.  Fighting against that momentum, he clambered to the rail on the opposite side.  He could hear their concerned prattles.

“Not my fault none of you lot thought of this,” he mumbled.

The citizens of Lakmari were so densely packed that many were forced to a halt, standing on their toes to peer past the crowd.  The pale gardens opened up between two of the main paths, where a statue of their king, Drupad, stood embodied in marble upon a tall pedestal.  Lowering his head, Kunal raced across the railing.

That uncommon action drew murmurs from the crowd as he passed, but the bell rang again, drowning out their confused whispers.  The grand doors were opening.  The ceremony was beginning.

Far ahead, where the marble paths converged, the citizens crowded together like too many reeds in a bundle.  They began to rise from the throng, lifting themselves to the railing.  Kunal was too late to reach that northernmost area of the pale gardens.

The young man dipped his head and charged forth upon the railing, leaping out over the forbidden wildflowers.  Reaching up, he clung to one of the branches of the garden’s sturdy trees.  Kunal’s fingers worked into the grooves of the bark, but he did not allow himself time to consider the sensation.  Kicking forward, he flung himself over the flowers, landing upon the grass beyond.

As the adrenaline left his body at a gradual pace, a bright smile crept to his lips, framed neatly by his caramel-colored skin.  He strode forward at his leisure, the statue of Drupad in his sights.  A chorus of brass played in the distance upon the wall that housed the silver bell.  That music hastened Kunal’s step once more.

He reached the statue a moment later, clambering upon it.  The pedestal stood a mite higher than he expected, eliciting a small grunt from the extra exertion.  The trumpets and kombus ceased their song just as the young man rose to his feet, holding Drupad’s burly biceps for balance.

A great cheer rose up, followed by a wave of applause.  Ahead, the anticipated guest arrived upon the pavilion.  A quartet of young maidens, their faces veiled in silk, preceded him.  Those young, beautiful women seemed to float upon the marble pavilion, casting out handfuls of bright pink petals.  Even from afar, that floral aroma was intoxicating.

Kunal focused on the closest girl, narrowing his eyes to cross the distance.  She wore a jeweled headdress, a crystalline facet hanging just between her eyebrows.  Her dark brown irises only appeared more enticing surrounded by the dark lines of black highlights.  A single blink later, he was sure she had caught his stare.

Averting his eyes, Kunal instead looked upon the statue.  Drupad’s effigy was imposing, yet from his proximity, the young man felt it had lost some of its splendor.  Standing upon the pedestal with the king, Kunal was only shorter by several inches.  A glimmer upon the statue caught his eye then, and he focused on a golden fleck on Drupad’s otherwise marble skin.  Raising his arm, he extended his finger toward that queer flaw.

“Kunal!”

He abruptly stopped and turned to the east, where he saw a cheerful face.  Dark skin and round cheeks accentuated his friend’s smile, which remained even as he hoisted his stout body over the railing.  He landed upon the wildflowers, his sandals crushing a trio of them with no hope of survival.

“Param,” Kunal scolded.

Oblivious to those warnings, his friend traipsed over the flowers until he reached the grassy clearing.  He ran as fast as his sandals would allow him, the footwear clapping loudly.

“You’ve got the best vantage in Lakmari,” Param insisted.  He reached the statue of Drupad and leaned against the pedestal.  “Perhaps the king will bestow luck upon you and your family.”

“Perhaps,” Kunal muttered.  He barely registered his friend’s words, for the celebrated guest, Prince Sazim, neared the altar.  Two of his most trusted advisors followed behind him but ceased their advance as he took his first step upon the dais.  A hush fell over the extensive audience, the sea of citizens looking upon their ruler for the latest great reveal.

Sazim’s complexion was much lighter than many of his subjects.  The sun seemed to catch upon his olive skin tone, leaving a luster upon him.  A wide smile raised his thin beard and mustache, and he nodded at the few folk he made direct eye contact with.  Finally, he raised his hand and took a deep breath.

“People of Lakmari,” he called out, his voice deceptively low and loud.  “The time has come for another choosing!”

Zeal spread through the vast crowd.  Cheers and applause could be heard from anywhere in the city.  It went on for some time, hands clapping together like the fluttering of a bee’s wings.  The prince beamed and shook his head as he considered that excited response.  Following a laugh that went unheard, he raised his hand to silence the crowd once more.

“It has been –” He stopped, waiting for the final rambunctious citizens to quiet.  “It has been two hundred and sixteen days since the last choosing – two hundred and sixteen days since Tarak Taran left our great city to set out and find his glory.”  He raised his hand again, ceasing any interruption before it could start.  “This tradition has been in place for thirteen years, ever since my father, the great King Drupad, ventured to the far corners of the globe.”

He gestured to his right, where the fair-skinned blonde advisor behind him stood.  “The priestess Cascadia has seen the signs in the flames.  It is time for another of us to be chosen, to make our way into the world.  We follow in my father’s footsteps, leaving the safety and beauty of our city behind.  Out there, among the wilderness and foreign soil, life is waiting for us.  We need only to reach out and grab it.

“As has become part of the tradition, the priestess will provide me with the sacred stone – the sign of who was already chosen that night in the flames…”

Prince Sazim had a flair for the dramatic and an overly colorful way to describe a simple process, Kunal realized.  As those words rolled on, the young man found himself drawn to the priestess.  Her foreign graces captivated him.  Golden hair fell upon porcelain skin, both shining in the sun’s light.  She glanced up at that distant statue, and their eyes met.  Kunal attempted to avert his gaze but found he could not.

“… and that is why it is my great honor and privilege to announce our newest champion and ambassador,” Prince Sazim said, turning the stone over in his hand.  “Kunal Johar!”

Cascadia turned her attention to Lakmari’s prince, and Kunal finally found the power to look away.  The crowd burst into applause, and he felt Param’s hand tap against his shin.  With a furled brow, he watched as the people he lived beside turned about, looking upon him with great respect.  His eyes widened as the prince’s spoken words hit the correct resonance, landing softly in his ears.

“As is custom,” Sazim went on, “you shall have the afternoon to spend with your friends and your family.  At sunset, you will report to the palace.  We will feast in your honor and prepare you for the road ahead.

“People of Lakmari, you have learned the great silver bell indicates the upcoming Gathering.  It also indicates the loss of a citizen from our great city.  While the chosen is honored by all of us, their absence stings to precious few.  All who would remember Kunal and gaze upon his effigy can see him whenever they choose in the palace grounds.

“That concludes the twenty-third Gathering,” Sazim spoke.  “While it ends for you and me, it is just beginning for Kunal Johar.  If you see him in our streets, wish him well.  Thank you.”  The prince bowed following his speech, inviting another round of applause.

Sazim’s two advisors turned inward as he pivoted on his heel.  While the prince began his return to the palace, the rest of Lakmari turned their attention toward the Gathering’s chosen.  Kunal watched as they set their gazes upon him, and he suddenly felt the weight of his mission.

He also felt a firm tug on his pant leg.  Looking down, he saw Param there with a wide smile upon his face.  “Better get out of here,” he said.  “Otherwise you’ll spend your last day here listening to jealous folk say how happy they are for you.”

With a nod, Kunal leapt down from the pedestal, his vision settling on the road to the south.

Continue to Part Two

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Mythology

The volcano, Mount Scourge, originally went by a different nomenclature.  In the old days, there was a godlike being named Aestir, who was said to be able to manipulate fire.  Unlike pyromancers, he could create the element from nothingness.  They named the volcano after him during the earliest eruptions.

Entymology

The volcano is called Mount Scourge now because of more recent events.  After one of its later eruptions, black ash coated the mountains and the area nearby.  Nothing was able to grow in that poison, lending name to the place.

Physical Appearance

Mount Scourge stretches high into the sky of northeastern Raleigh.  It is covered by a layer of frost which insulates it, and often sends out a fine mist because of the duality of its nature.  It is one of the more easily traversable volcanoes of Draconis, which led it to be a very popular attraction for cults.

The land around Mount Scourge and the range it belongs to has become somewhat broken over time.  It is said that entire mountains fell in upon themselves, and avalanches have ripped the land asunder.  Long bridges connect various places around Mount Scourge, fighting against the tumultuous weather patterns that frequently assault the area.

History

Early Eruptions

The mighty Aestir was a powerful being that felt scorned by the world around him.  He ravaged towns and ransacked castles and fortresses, and withdrew to his sanctuary somewhere in the vicinity of the volcano.  People began to associate the two, considering the man as the personal manifestation of the giant landmark.

Whenever Aestir felt threatened, it seemed that the volcano erupted.  Historians are skeptical that these events were anything besides coincidental, however.

Major Eruption

Aestir’s vile acts knew no bounds.  Over the course of months, he made his name painfully known to all within Raleigh.  His actions had even become known to Cracius and Daltain, yet always, he seemed to return to the volcano in northeastern Raleigh.

Finally, a group of stalwart adventurers set out to bring him to justice.  The truth has been lost to history, but legend has it that a powerful knight sacrificed his life to cast them both into the caldera.

The magma inside began to churn, and the mightiest explosion of all rocked the surrounding area.  Black ash cast down upon the land, destroying any chances of life finding a foothold there.

War Beneath the Ash

The formidable eruptions of Mount Scourge have not always been completely disadvantageous.  During the latest of Raleigh’s civil wars, one of the armies had access to a mighty diviner.  He correctly predicted the upsurge of an ash cloud, and convinced his leader to equip his men more properly beneath it.  It was a deciding factor in the Raleigh family keeping the country as more than just a namesake.

Winter’s Hammer

Mount Scourge remained a bitter, terrible place for generations.  Blinding ash obscured the sky without refrain, and nothing could grow upon the battered soil.  Breathable air was scarce, and the heat was unbearable.

An orc shaman named Gol’Tarosh was reaching the end of his days.  Knowing that he wanted to give his body back to the land, he made a pilgrimage to Mount Scourge.  With his enchanted hammer, the Crystal Tear, he struck down his energy, invigorating the land once more.

The volcano spat forth hot ash, but when it rained down upon the ground, it had become snow.  Neither Gol’Tarosh or the Crystal Tear have ever been found, but his desires were rewarded.  New life began sprouting upon the mountains and the surrounding area.  Even beneath the blankets of snow, nature has begun to rejuvenate.

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Origination

There are various kinds of golems; however there are two main categories.

Arcane golems are the ones that are typically spoken of in legend.  These golems include the ones made from clay and stone, but also include iron.

Necromantic golems are associated with bone, blood or flesh.  Golems of this nature have only been created for the last few centuries.

Physical Appearance

Golems can take on a variety of shapes and sizes, but are usually constrained by the material that they consist of.

Clay and stone golems are more formless.  They just barely appear to be humanoid, and may not have expressive features.  Their bodies can also be more misshapen and asymmetrical.

Iron golems can be formless, but are more often shaped to look like armor.  In fact, expert practitioners of the arcane arts will typically animate an entire suit of armor to act as a golem for them.

Necromantic golems are shaped by the type of bone and flesh, but they can also be modified by the will of the caster.  Blood golems are perhaps the most peculiar variety, since it can be so easily molded in a quick manner.

Clothing and Adornment

Though they can, in theory, be clothed, golems do not suffer pain or shame.  It is considered a waste of time to offer garments to the creatures, although some wizards have been known to adorn their golems with straps or belts, effectively making them a beast of burden in addition to a protector.  Many golems also have markings carved into them for personality as well.  These can be quite tribal, or they can have an enchanted aura.

General Personality

Temperament and Behavior

Golems have no emotions.  They live to serve the request of their caster, and as such, will not cease their task unless they have been destroyed, or their caster has met their end.

Death

Technically, golems do not die unless they are disenchanted by their caster.  Even if you broke them into pieces, they would still exist.  If a wizard was able to piece them back together, the golem would function once more.  If it wasn’t put back together it would remain permanently paralyzed.

History

Mythology

There are legends of living golems that have become self aware.  Some of the tales say that their master gave them their freedom, while others say they fought their wizards as if they were slavers.

The post Golems appeared first on Tellest.

Early Life

Romus Youngblood was born to a gypsy woman who was traveling from Cracius to Daltain.  He was born within the borders of Raleigh, and was considered Raleighn since birth.  His father was never identified.

His mother, Jessa Youngblood, refused to continue on with the other gypsies, deciding that she did not want her son to be raised a nomad.  Jessa became a fortuneteller, the rest of the gypsies leaving her one covered wagon to serve as her home.  She set up her home and business near the southeastern border Raleigh, just across from the country of Warus.  The town she had situated herself nearby was called Greenwood.

Jessa became accustomed to the town almost immediately, the folk welcoming her warmly.  She began earning money to support Romus and herself.

Growing Up

Romus went to school with other children from Greenwood, but always felt that he was different.  He was often scolded for daydreaming, but it never deterred him from doing so.  Eventually, he was dismissed from school altogether.  His mother began schooling him from home whenever she was not working.

At a very young age, Romus began apprenticing for various workers within Greenwood.  He held many jobs, but, for much the same reason he was expelled from school, he was removed from his work.

Finally, he was appointed to watch the border of Warus from one of the GreenwoodTowers.  It was a job that no one else wanted, but it also allowed him to daydream without consequence.

Tragedy

When Romus had just entered his teenage years, his mother was accosted by a visitor to Greenwood.  He beat and raped her, on multiple occasions, until she felt she needed to leave the town to escape him.  On the night she left Greenwood, he followed her, and killed her.

She was on her way to gather up Romus from the watch tower when she was struck down.

Romus saw his mother’s approach, but when she never arrived he began to worry.  He left the tower and approached her wagon, finding her dead inside.  The man who killed her was still nearby, however.  He attacked Romus, who was overpowered immediately.

Had Romus stayed in the watch tower, he would have noticed a small contingent of gnolls crossing the Raleigh-Warus border.  Instead, beaten to near death by the strange man who had slain his mother, he was unaware when the pack of gnolls swelled over the carriage.  Romus did the only thing he was capable of, crawling under the wagon for safety.

The gnolls would have surely killed him had they not focused on the stranger first.  While they were attacking the human, a group of kobold hunters entered the fray.  They had been stalking the gnolls from afar, watching their movements to make sure they would not attack the neighboring town of Greenwood.  When the gnolls made their cursory attack on the two humans by the tower, the kobolds burst into action, and disposed of the gnolls.

Romus survived, and was assisted by one of the kobolds, a shaman named Mo’Rama.  The kobolds delivered Romus and his deceased mother to Greenwood, leaving him with the other villagers.

Training

After his mother’s death, Romus saw life with a new clarity.  He wanted to make sure that what happened to his mother would never happen to anyone else.  He sold the wagon, and all of his worldly possessions to purchase training in a variety of combat styles.  When his master in Greenwood was done providing him with all the knowledge he could, he sent Romus north to an urban city called Seramore.

With Romus’ training continuing in Seramore, he became a well respected and talented fighter, eventually joining up with a small mercenary unit based out of the city.  He performed odd tasks for a while, spreading his name and earning a reputation before, finally, obtaining a summons from the capital of Raleigh, Viscosa.

Officer of Raleigh

Romus traveled to Viscosa, and immediately upon his arrival, he was appointed an officer to a small diplomacy unit.  Specifically, he was an escort to a Raleighn ambassador.

His first excursion took him back towards home.  He passed through Greenwood, into Warus, finally reaching the kobold capital of Eugitrin.  There he reconciled with Mo’Rama, the kobold who had rescued him when he was younger.  Romus’ first quest while serving for Raleigh was to assist the kobolds of Eugitrin with the encroaching gnoll forces.

Life of Tolerance

Romus served beside Mo’Rama for a great while, eventually dispersing the gnolls altogether.  But the two groups did not do it alone.  Romus and Mo’Rama met up with other members of what would be an ongoing companionship.  It was those companions that followed Romus into what would arguably be his most remarkable feat.

The War of the Fallen Angel

Where the Angel Falls

When Samielle, the fallen angel, was banished to the plane of Tellest, he was first encountered near Seramore, the city Romus eventually considered his home.  His hatred towards humanity burned the city in his mind, and as such, when he finally dipped his white wings into the fire of the volcanic MountRuben, Seramore was his first target for destruction.

Exodus

When Samielle, then Semia’Laz, began his mass genocide within Draconis, Romus and his friends were the group foremost at hand leading the evacuation to safety.  The demons flooded all of Draconis, but the efforts of Romus and his companions saved many lives.

Obtaining Archangel

After the evacuation of the people of Draconis had been effective, Romus decided he could not be made to live underground any longer.  Humans had been banished once before, and he refused to suffer that same fate to humanity again.  Rather, he went, along with his companions, to fight the demon armies.  They were successful for a long time, but one by one, the companions fell.  Romus decided he needed something to even the odds.  It is said that one of the gods came to him in a dream and told him of a great sword called Archangel, which was supposedly blessed by every one of the gods.  Romus made it his personal quest to find the sword.

Historical evidence has never proven where the sword was found, but it is said to have been returned to its resting place after Romus’ death.

Battle with Semia’Laz

While Romus’ companions held off the demon army, he went straight to the head of the opposition, seeking out Semia’Laz.  His encounter with the fallen angel was bloody and deadly, hurting both greatly.  But it was the final stab from Archangel that laid the killing blow on Semia’Laz, allowing Romus to aid his allies in pressing the demons back to Evarice.

Death

Circumstances of Death

Romus Youngblood was the last of his companions to die.  He was cursed with seeing all of his friends fall to the demon armies.  He lived out the rest of his life naturally, the guilt of being the lone survivor driving him to solitude.  No one knows where he died or if he had taken any other companions by his side.

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