A very, very short Summery-The story follows Nicolas Decameron, a young human Necromancer in a yet to be named fantasy world serving Emet, a secret organization of Dark Wizards bent on collecting the worlds most secret and powerful knowledge while using their powers influence the world in way they see fit. As one of their necromancers Nicolas finds himself traveling the world to different places, locating and stealing scrolls or artifacts, trading favors with those who want to utilize his power for their own, and above all, fighting to keep Emet's existence hidden from a world that would fear and oppose them. In this he is assisted by many henchmen and fellow Necromancers, Prominent among them are Worm, a ethically bound undead knight fighting a losing battle to retain his humanity, Edward, a psycho-sadistic monster hunter who kills as many people as he does monsters in his fight against them, Andrew, a depressed nobleman turned vampire who barters protection with the resurrection of his long dead family members, Elegnem, a rival necromancer searching for ways to increase his lifespan through torturous human experimentation, along with many others. All the while being trailed by a number of heroes, all of whom want to bring him for justice for the many atrocities he has committed, most of whom switch in and out of main character along with Nicolas to give full view of the events as they take place. The story itself is meant to turn the tables on the traditional Fantasy story and look through the eyes of the villain as they go about their own trails and tribulations on their noble, but misguided, quests to create a better world
Quote:
Stillness hung in the air as Leon took the seat next to his father Bernard who now lay on his large four poster bed, dejected and ailing from his years of life and awaiting the final cold embrace that would mark his end. It was that idea was what brought Leon up to speak with his father, something he had not done since his arrival home from the campaign in the eastern edge of the province. The subject was an uncomfortable one, even more so than the subject spoken in the same room a few months previous was, but they had to face it before it was too late. Time was slowly running out for the both of them, although he hated to admit it, the end of his father’s life was approaching and the most important night of his life was at hand. His wish originally, was to not be the one to unearth this, but procrastination and resentment on both his brothers and fathers side had forced his hand despite his father’s current condition
In fact, aged old Lord Bernard Decameron of Dieci looked as if he had seen much, much better days in his life. His face and body where nothing but creased layers of pale skin wrapped around a frail skeleton with long ragged steams of bleached white hair protruding from the top of his head and chin which served as extra layer of blankets and pillow for his head and chest. He carried the type of face that looked as if it once carried a gallant beauty that was lost to years of hardship and depression made clear by his lifeless, distant, gray eyes with heavy bags resulting from restlessness. His head turned away from his son, staring off in a hopeless, despairing way toward the painting of a beautiful brunette haired woman and her family atop the fireplace that sat at the end of his bed. He clutched at his heart with his skeletal, almost translucent hands as he did this though there was no pain in his chest but the bitter jagged edges of a broken heart. Regent Prince Leon Decameron of Dieci did notice this gesture, in a gloomy sort of way and it would not help his argument if his father were in a state.
The Prince was a remarkably handsome man in his late twenties, with facial features much like his fathers though remarkably younger and with a look of general concern instead of complete despair. He was clean-shaven, with short dark brown, hair combed back and away from his eyes and forehead and lightly tanned skin. His body was well sculpted, with clearly defined mussels filling out the contours of his attire. His eyes were grey like his father’s but were full with the fire life and lacked the black bags that marred his father’s appearance. He wore a suit that had both the appearance of a soldier and nobleman, wearing the traditional dark green Court Suit trimmed with gold of his forefathers, but it was modified with a sword scabbard and shortened, more economic, cape at his request. He sat at attention by his father, his back straight, feet firmly emplaced on the ground and his hands clutching at his knees, his eyes locked onto his fathers though his father seemed to not want to make contact at that moment.
Coughing nonchalantly, and consequently breaking the silence that filled the large luxurious bedroom, Leon began to speak in the light tone you took with a loved one at their deathbed, “Hello father, good to see you are feeling well enough to speak again”
Bernard stifled a cough and turned to his son, one of the last few joys he had in life. Contorting his wrinkled face into a smile and clasping his hands together, he attempted to make as much as a façade of heath as he could for his son, “Its good to see you can make time away from that fiancée of yours to talk to your fading father!”
He tried to laugh, but it turned into a hacking cough, which he had to stifle before talking again, “So, how goes the wedding plans? I would like to partake in one last joyous occasion before I slip into the void!”
Leon gave his father a weak smile, seeing the effort he was putting on to take his sons worry off himself, “Well, I have received confirmation letters back from almost everyone I sent invitations too, that will bring the guest list up to near one hundred guests. The day has been set and all other preparations have been paid for, made and are being cared here as we speak. We are have only had trouble finding a priest to provide a proper ceremony, but I have sent a letter to commission High Bishop Sacros, he owes me a favor for returning several artifacts recovered during my conquest into the east. The only thing left now is to select my best man and find some help for Marie, she has no one to serve as her bridesmaids sadly…”
Bernard frowned a bit, something in his sons words were troubling him, “The priests, did they say why they did not want to preside over the ceremony?”
Leon laughed coldly and finished it a long, exasperated sigh, “Most of them gave forged some righteous tale of responsibility to avoid it, something I will not forget when I become lord mind you, but I believe we all know the real reason. But that’s what I should have expected, marrying the lower class is not exactly a norm now is it?”
Bernard leaned toward his son, grasping his shoulder in a kind, fatherly way, and whispered “Son, you have my blessings regardless of what the others believe. When you first introduced me to Marie I saw such love in yours and hers eyes that I knew that you two were more meant for each other than any of those women I tried to set you up with in the past. She will treat you well”
Leon looked at his fathers hand skeletal hand over his mussels with a small, sad smile and lightly touched it with his own, “Thank you for saying that father, though I don’t believe it would have to be said by a man of your honor… But…”
Gently grasping his father’s hand Leon removed his from his arm and lightly directed it back to its place in his father’s lap, “Father, Nicolas is back…”
Any of the color that was left in Bernard’s pallid face was drained away in the instant that Leon spoke the Nicolas’s name and his eyes seemed to fill with a burning fire, “Oh, so Nicolas is back from his little trip? Four years away from this house not long enough then.”
Leon looked away from his father with a depressed frown, “Have you spoken to him yet have you? It’s been almost two weeks since he arrived home and neither of you have even said a little over a word to each other in almost eight years!”
“Is that what you came here to bother me about? To get me to speak him…” Bernard fell back on his pillows, away from his son
“You think it’s a bother that I am trying to mend the division between you two? Between our family? Before my wedding forces you together?” Leon looked away from his father and scowled at the air, he had expected this kind of reaction, but had hoped against it
Bernard turned from his son a sneer scrawling its way across his lips “Our family would not have to be mended it if were not for Nicolas doing what he did! He caused all this”
His eyes turned to the painting up top the fireplace of the young brunette haired woman, “She was my wife, and your mother, taken away from us in the prime of her life, by a boy who…”
Leon interjected before his father could finish his thought, “Father, you can’t honestly blame him for mother dying in labor! For holding a pointless grudge against your own son for all these years over something as trivial as a complication during birth?”
“I blame him for taking away the one person who made this life sufferable, who could fill the emptiness in me and melt away this horrible cold I feel. I blame him for that, and that is unforgivable” Bernard fixed his son with a stern look to let him know he could not convince him otherwise
Sighing in defeat Leon got up from his chair and returned his father’s stern gaze with is own, “Just try and get along, for the wedding at least, I am sure that he will continue to evade you as you have done him for the twenty three years of his life”
Turning without saying another word Leon marched through the double doors, allowing for a small team of nurses to file past into the room, and stomping through the halls of Decameron Manor toward the soldiers barracks and the training room it contained. His father’s stubbornness coupled with his brothers self exile, filled him with so much anger he had to expend it in some way before some bad news about some wedding plan or invitation request or any of his noble responsibilities sent him over the edge.
In fact, aged old Lord Bernard Decameron of Dieci looked as if he had seen much, much better days in his life. His face and body where nothing but creased layers of pale skin wrapped around a frail skeleton with long ragged steams of bleached white hair protruding from the top of his head and chin which served as extra layer of blankets and pillow for his head and chest. He carried the type of face that looked as if it once carried a gallant beauty that was lost to years of hardship and depression made clear by his lifeless, distant, gray eyes with heavy bags resulting from restlessness. His head turned away from his son, staring off in a hopeless, despairing way toward the painting of a beautiful brunette haired woman and her family atop the fireplace that sat at the end of his bed. He clutched at his heart with his skeletal, almost translucent hands as he did this though there was no pain in his chest but the bitter jagged edges of a broken heart. Regent Prince Leon Decameron of Dieci did notice this gesture, in a gloomy sort of way and it would not help his argument if his father were in a state.
The Prince was a remarkably handsome man in his late twenties, with facial features much like his fathers though remarkably younger and with a look of general concern instead of complete despair. He was clean-shaven, with short dark brown, hair combed back and away from his eyes and forehead and lightly tanned skin. His body was well sculpted, with clearly defined mussels filling out the contours of his attire. His eyes were grey like his father’s but were full with the fire life and lacked the black bags that marred his father’s appearance. He wore a suit that had both the appearance of a soldier and nobleman, wearing the traditional dark green Court Suit trimmed with gold of his forefathers, but it was modified with a sword scabbard and shortened, more economic, cape at his request. He sat at attention by his father, his back straight, feet firmly emplaced on the ground and his hands clutching at his knees, his eyes locked onto his fathers though his father seemed to not want to make contact at that moment.
Coughing nonchalantly, and consequently breaking the silence that filled the large luxurious bedroom, Leon began to speak in the light tone you took with a loved one at their deathbed, “Hello father, good to see you are feeling well enough to speak again”
Bernard stifled a cough and turned to his son, one of the last few joys he had in life. Contorting his wrinkled face into a smile and clasping his hands together, he attempted to make as much as a façade of heath as he could for his son, “Its good to see you can make time away from that fiancée of yours to talk to your fading father!”
He tried to laugh, but it turned into a hacking cough, which he had to stifle before talking again, “So, how goes the wedding plans? I would like to partake in one last joyous occasion before I slip into the void!”
Leon gave his father a weak smile, seeing the effort he was putting on to take his sons worry off himself, “Well, I have received confirmation letters back from almost everyone I sent invitations too, that will bring the guest list up to near one hundred guests. The day has been set and all other preparations have been paid for, made and are being cared here as we speak. We are have only had trouble finding a priest to provide a proper ceremony, but I have sent a letter to commission High Bishop Sacros, he owes me a favor for returning several artifacts recovered during my conquest into the east. The only thing left now is to select my best man and find some help for Marie, she has no one to serve as her bridesmaids sadly…”
Bernard frowned a bit, something in his sons words were troubling him, “The priests, did they say why they did not want to preside over the ceremony?”
Leon laughed coldly and finished it a long, exasperated sigh, “Most of them gave forged some righteous tale of responsibility to avoid it, something I will not forget when I become lord mind you, but I believe we all know the real reason. But that’s what I should have expected, marrying the lower class is not exactly a norm now is it?”
Bernard leaned toward his son, grasping his shoulder in a kind, fatherly way, and whispered “Son, you have my blessings regardless of what the others believe. When you first introduced me to Marie I saw such love in yours and hers eyes that I knew that you two were more meant for each other than any of those women I tried to set you up with in the past. She will treat you well”
Leon looked at his fathers hand skeletal hand over his mussels with a small, sad smile and lightly touched it with his own, “Thank you for saying that father, though I don’t believe it would have to be said by a man of your honor… But…”
Gently grasping his father’s hand Leon removed his from his arm and lightly directed it back to its place in his father’s lap, “Father, Nicolas is back…”
Any of the color that was left in Bernard’s pallid face was drained away in the instant that Leon spoke the Nicolas’s name and his eyes seemed to fill with a burning fire, “Oh, so Nicolas is back from his little trip? Four years away from this house not long enough then.”
Leon looked away from his father with a depressed frown, “Have you spoken to him yet have you? It’s been almost two weeks since he arrived home and neither of you have even said a little over a word to each other in almost eight years!”
“Is that what you came here to bother me about? To get me to speak him…” Bernard fell back on his pillows, away from his son
“You think it’s a bother that I am trying to mend the division between you two? Between our family? Before my wedding forces you together?” Leon looked away from his father and scowled at the air, he had expected this kind of reaction, but had hoped against it
Bernard turned from his son a sneer scrawling its way across his lips “Our family would not have to be mended it if were not for Nicolas doing what he did! He caused all this”
His eyes turned to the painting up top the fireplace of the young brunette haired woman, “She was my wife, and your mother, taken away from us in the prime of her life, by a boy who…”
Leon interjected before his father could finish his thought, “Father, you can’t honestly blame him for mother dying in labor! For holding a pointless grudge against your own son for all these years over something as trivial as a complication during birth?”
“I blame him for taking away the one person who made this life sufferable, who could fill the emptiness in me and melt away this horrible cold I feel. I blame him for that, and that is unforgivable” Bernard fixed his son with a stern look to let him know he could not convince him otherwise
Sighing in defeat Leon got up from his chair and returned his father’s stern gaze with is own, “Just try and get along, for the wedding at least, I am sure that he will continue to evade you as you have done him for the twenty three years of his life”
Turning without saying another word Leon marched through the double doors, allowing for a small team of nurses to file past into the room, and stomping through the halls of Decameron Manor toward the soldiers barracks and the training room it contained. His father’s stubbornness coupled with his brothers self exile, filled him with so much anger he had to expend it in some way before some bad news about some wedding plan or invitation request or any of his noble responsibilities sent him over the edge.
