https://wall.alphacoders.com/big.php?i=206136

Note to Readers: Got a little bit bored with the storyline, so decided to start all over again, and maybe add the choices in later so it's easier for me. Remember if you haven't checked it out already, Play Heroic Epic: A Choices Game first, then you can Play Book 2 of Heroes & Legends on kindle or read it here, and follow me on Facebook.

At the highest peak of the black towers that dotted the island of Bloodtides, Magelord Sadis stood watch at his balcony, his fingers steepled together behind him, and not for the first time he took in the grand vista of his home. An island, surrounded by thick grey fog, Blootides stretched for hundreds of miles, guarded by massive sentry towers that jutted up out of the water like sentinels, and crackles of magical energy that floated out of the surface of the ground to form bubbles of dark energy. The glowing bulbs of pure darkness, floated on air currents, that drifted through the breeze, and to the heart of the realm, a great red orb that sat in thick gold chains, wrapped up by two golden arms that clasped it tightly to its bosom. The swirls of thick dark energy that surrounded it, almost powerful enough that Sadis could sense it from here, and feel the waves of heat as it pulsed brightly in the Greatest City in the world, Tideborn, where a thousand mages or more had made their homes on the isle, and where the Towers of Abaddon, huge black structures stretched up into the sky. Populated by dark mages and novices alike, the towers housed all those seeking power, and as was his rightful place, he stood at the highest of them.

Lips twitched into a faint smile, he turned at the sound of voices behind him, and walked back inside, his hand unconsciously fingering the rich golden embroidery across the edges of his satin black robes. The domed chamber he entered, painted with the image of their great lord Tazrael in all his fiery glory, leathery black wings spread-eagled to either side, and golden slitted eyes watching them from above, while sitting directly below, sat the counsel of Magelords, each of the fifty lords gathered together, the master of his or her own tower with the power of a king, and the ability to wash the world in rivers of blood. The only vacant seat at the broad oak table, that of Magelord Barkan himself whom he had later learned had been killed by an upstart slave. A thought that would have irritated him in the past, but with his death, and as his father always was want to say, “lay opportunity for more power.”

Lord Tazrael, one of the most powerful demons in the world would seek a new champion to fill his place, and with Barkan’s demise, he was the closest to the top, besides that of Magelord Arcania, a demure vancloren woman with golden ringlets in her hair who had not a care in the world, Magelord Darkwind, a human nobleman who had taken to playing with magic, and Magelord Shadosmere, the only real threat to his power, an elven mage who had once been a guardian himself, before relinquishing his title to study the dark energies, just as his forefather the Great Lord Volemar himself. But Sadis would overcome them all. He had done too much work in the shadows to fail now.

Hands still folded behind his back, he took his seat at the far end of the table, and once the chamber was silent again, Magelord Tothas, a balding orc and one time blacksmith with broad shoulders, and corded muscles stood up at the head of the table, fiery-red eyes searching each one of them as his voice boomed like wrought iron, “When we first gathered here, we each of us swore that we would not rest until the man that had ravaged our homes, killed our brothers and sisters in their sleep, was dead and gone from this world, and yet even now I hear whispers that he is still alive!” The last words spat angrily as his face twisted into a fiery hot rage, eyes flaring like white lightning, before he sighed heavily, “That however is not why we are called here. With our brother Barkan dead, we must now choose a new successor to lead our armies, one that will take back what was taken from us, and before we are all condemned to the pits of hell. To that end, we must choose.”

Hands clapped together in a thunderous clash of lightning, he summoned a creature of pure fire that resembled the shape of a man who placed a bowl at the center of the table, his flesh sizzling with heat to scorch the hardwood floors black, before he vanished away. The pewter bowl he left behind, a simple thing that held an inky black liquid that swished from side to side.

Each of the Magelords in the room, released a sharp intake of breath, before one by one they dipped two fingers inside and pressed it to their foreheads. The crackle of energy that filled the room was almost palpable as Sadis leaned forward to do the same, the black substance sticking to his middle fingers, when he pressed it to his temple. The visions he saw, a blur of blood, battle, and glory that caused him to sigh in pleasure, before a voice spoke to him through the darkness, cold, hard, and cruel. “Speak, my son.”

The command, almost jerking him out of his seat when he replied, “choose me.”

The quiet laughter he heard at the back of his mind, not mocking at all as it disappeared, and he turned to find the rest of the council waiting silently. Tothas with an expression of extreme disgruntlement, snapped, “Sadis, it is you that has been chosen. Go with the great lord’s blessing, and may the world tremble at your coming.”