Captain's Log:
I rewrote the prologue that I posted yesterday, and it is much improved. It is still in first person, which I like; however, I am wondering whether I should write the whole book in first person, or just the inserts from the main character throughout the book. Time will tell. For now, here is the updated prologue.
Daylight is fading as we make our way west, sailing across the blue expanse of the Altheon, and I begin to wonder if I made the right decision in undertaking this journey. The three of us who remain are worn to the bone of the evil that hunts us at every turn. I think often of that fateful day; the day I made the choice to search out the stone of Agathon and return it to the city of Dunrel—our city. A decision born of necessity that changed the course of our lives forever.
Grief and sorrow pierce my heart with every memory of this cursed venture. I regret bringing my friends along, for their lives have been in danger from the onset; however, I do not see that I had any other choice. The journey has been one I could not have survived alone. I have lost two of my closest friends to the unbelievable misfortune we have faced through this last month. I fear that to lose another now would break my will to continue, and all hope would be lost.
The stone is vital to the salvation of our city, and so it is necessary for us to continue and press forward to gain the stone. A great army from the northern country of Sorit invades our lands and threatens to overrun us. They carry with them great evil in the form of a device called an Ortan. I am told that this device is capable of opening a rift or hole in the fabric of our world and allows vile creatures from the netherworld to enter our land. Unchecked, they would ravage the land, kill all who stand in their way, and enslave all those to unlucky to die. Those captured will be taken back to the demon’s home world to serve as slaves, condemned forever to serve the demented needs of the enemy. We are the only hope of preventing the obliteration of our race; of the genocide that surely awaits all if we fail.
Only one other time in history has this happened, and the demon armies came much to close to destroying the world in which we live. The end was near, and the hope of men lay in one man. The demons were stopped, as the legend states, by the Stone of Agathon wielded by Titus Leontius—the king. Long ago, three ages in fact, the stone was seated in its proper place, inlaid atop the staff of Agathon. When joined, the staff and the stone combine to make a powerful talisman; the holes rent by the Ortan can only be closed with the magic channeled from the staff through the stone. The magic can only be channeled by a direct descendant of Titus Leontius, for such a spell was placed on the staff when it was bestowed upon the king by the magician Eurypon so that no other could access the great power residing in the talisman. Shortly after the battle, the staff was placed in the burial vault of the ancient kings for safekeeping while peace reigned throughout the country. No one knows exactly when, but the stone was stolen from the vault by grave robbers many years later. Not knowing of the value of what they held, they tore the stone from the staff and disappeared, leaving the wooden shaft behind. Over the years, rumors have spread of the stone and its residence within the haunted walls of Grandlow, which sits on an island in the south. Until now, no one has had need of the stone, but desperate times are upon us.
How the Sorites came in to possession of an Ortan, I know not, but if we do not return with the stone, the armies of the netherworld with conquer our lands and kill us all. The Sorites must be blind to the fact that when the demons are finished with us and they no longer need the help of Sorit, they will turn and kill or enslave them all. The reason why I was chosen, along with those who accompany me, is quite a story in itself. My name is Lorimer Wynten, and this is the story of our peril.
Not a very eventful day. I will be staying overnight at my parent's house for the next couple of weeks, because they are out of town and they need someone to take care of the cat and the stupid birds. Oh well.
Later,
Lorimer
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