Act I533Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvrPvHJcuvO
Ivan’s face was being pressed into the dirt while the Imperial soldiers threw torches into his and his neighbors’ homes. Rage was the only thing embracing his soul as he managed to watch soldiers holding the doors shut to the burning homes, forcing the residents to burn alive. In a cage on a wagon behind Ivan, was a small black dragon. It was covering itself with its wings as it cowered in fear. The raging inferno set the clear night sky ablaze while the soldiers laughed.
“Shoulda thought twice before hiding a dragon from the empire, son.” As the buildings were burning down and leaving behind only cinders, the man let off of the back of Ivan’s head. While Ivan felt the pressure being released on the back of his head, he felt the cold hard steel of a small blade being driven into his lower back. The man continued to say, “You only have yourself to blame. These peasant’s fates were sealed the moment you didn’t report that dragon.” The soldier kicked Ivan onto his back and drove the knife into his lower abdomen. Ivan cried out in pain while his tears rolled off his face into the dirt.
“I’ll kill you all!” he screamed. Ivan became lightheaded while his wounds continued to bleed. “I’ll find you—” suddenly Ivan felt his heart jump out of rhythm and a searing pain spread through his chest. He coughed up an indecent amount of blood. He tried to lean on his side when he saw the soldiers boarding their carriages and starting to ride away. A man wearing a dark hooded robe stood on the back of one of the carriages riding away. A purplish light shot out of a staff he was holding as he raised it above his head. The light eerily shot into the homes that were reduced to ashes and embers. A moan came crying out from inside Ivan’s home. Suddenly multiple groans and frightening screams were emerging from all the burning houses. Trying to make it to his feet, Ivan cried out in pain as he held the wound in his abdomen with one of his hands. A ghastly call rang out from the house behind him and an undead body stepped out of the flames. 533Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXVcQY0T389
“No, no…” Ivan cried out as he realized the hooded man was a necromancer and raised everyone who had just died. The undead body walked toward him slowly as it cried out into the night. Ivan’s bones rattled as the zombie’s body let out a horrifying screech as its jaw fell off its face. As Ivan stumbled backwards another pair of undead emerged out of his house this time. It was his wife and daughter. They slowly approached him as their bodies continued to burn. There was nothing he could do to save them, and he felt so helpless.533Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDgrPEMN7Mj
The other houses in the town were slowly catching fire, as the towns people slowly awoke to the horror unfolding in the streets. Ivan could barely move as he watched another fiery undead stumble into a house near by that wasn’t engulfed in flames yet. The screams of the living rang out into the streets as the undead started to vanquish everyone and everything. Ivan looked down and the blade that had stabbed him twice was laying at his feet. It was his own knife that the soldier stole while he detained him. He weakly bent down and picked it up and faced his family. He knew that if he didn’t release them from this horror their souls would be damned to earth as ghouls. Tears continued to stream down his face while he limped closer to his zombified wife and daughter. The flames on their bodies where now smoldering embers that melted through their flesh. Ivan’s wife stepped in to tackle him, but he limped out of the way and tripped her. His body fell through the air with his blade in both hands and drove it into the back of her neck as he crashed down on top of her. Everything was becoming hazy and he felt like he might have lost to much blood. Rolling over on the ground, he noticed his daughter was closer than he thought, and she stumbled on top of him and was biting at his face. As he tried to hold her head back, she managed to bite off his pinky and index fingers. Ivan cried out in pain as he hugged his daughter and drove his knife into the back of her lower neck. She instantly collapsed and rolled off him next to his wife. Ivan instantly started jabbing his knife into his wrist of the bitten hand. He bellowed out in pain as he continued to sever his hand. His heart was beating like a blacksmiths hammer beating down onto a red-hot ingot. His teeth were clenched so hard he could feel them starting to crack under the pressure. In a mad rage, he drove his knife one last time through his wrist, and he shredded hand fell to the ground. He rolled over to the hot smoldering remnants of his home and jabbed his severed nub into the small glowing embers.
Ivan didn’t know if he was saved, but he couldn’t get his revenge if he turned into an undead. After pulling his charred blood stump out of the blazing ash, his neighbor had now come in within arm’s reach. While standing up Ivan grabbed a handful of smoldering embers and smeared into his undead neighbor’s face. The zombie cried out as Ivan kicked it down to the ground and stomped its head in with the hell of his boot. All around Ivan the town was slowly succumbing to the newly raised hoard of the undead. There was no more chance to save the town as most of it was now ablaze as the undead ate its residents.
Next to Ivan’s house was his workshop. He was one of the most well-known blacksmiths in the entire kingdom. The workshop was far enough away from his and his neighbor’s houses that it was not set ablaze. He stumbled across his lawn and entered his workshop. In a cabinet on the wall, were a variety of potions he had acquired over the years as forms of payment from traveling customers. There was no potion that could regrow a hand, but he had a mixture of anti-curse potions that could slow down the transformation into an undead if he were still at risk. He chugged a variety of anti-curse potions followed by stamina and healing potions. The haziness ceased, but the pain still rang out through his body. The memory of the soldiers starting the fire and laughing burned though his mind as he began making tools for his revenge. A leather harness he constructed was strapped to his arm missing his hand. It had a locking mechanism that a metal shield fit into. With no hand he was now able to wield a shield. A retractable short sword was built into the harness where his hand would be, so it could be hidden under the shield. On the shelf behind his work bench, was a blade he had been making for the king’s son when he would be pronounced kind succeeding his father. He took the blade down and poured a cursed potion onto it. He bit into the tip of his finger and let some of his own blood drip onto the sword. He then placed a small white gem he had in a drawer, onto the bottom of the swords hilt and it snapped into an engraving that was made for it. On a standby the doorway was a finely made suit of light armor. He slowly placed the armor on his body and assembled it one by one. 533Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhamQVWzvjL
Suddenly, he felt a painful jolt leap from his chest. A searing heat sliced through his thoughts as he could slightly hear the cry of his dragon. Looking around frantically, he couldn’t hear it anymore. The high fueled panic of anxiety flooded his chest as he packed a bag with various potions and weapons. Not much time has passed since the soldier’s departure and he knew they could only have made it to the small neighboring town. It was late at night so they might have stopped to lodge at their inn. It was the only hope he had of catching them before they made it back to the safety of the Capitol. His throat burned as his body unexpectedly erupted into a mad fit of laughter. It felt like his eyes were starting to bulge out of his head as he cackled uncontrollably. In a box on his shelf were some scrolls. A few of them were teleport scrolls to the neighboring village. He shoved them into his bag as his maniacal laughing came to a halt as he heard banging on the walls of his workshop outside.
The door to his workshop came flying off it’s hinges as Ivan kicked it open from inside. His laughing gathered a small hoard of zombies surrounding his workshop. The zombies began screeching horrifically, notify the others of their fresh fleshy meal they had discovered. Ivan let out a yell and charged the closest undead. He smashed into it with his shield so hard, the undead head came rolling off its shoulders. He spun around and slashed his sword in a downward motion crushing another zombies head in. Rage engulfed his mind while he hacked and slashed his way through the hoard. The last undead body slammed into the ground after Ivan decapitated it in one swift slice. Gazing upon the burning village he knew there was no going back to his normal life. He sheathed his sword and pulled the teleport scroll out of his pocket. He held it out in front of himself and shouted, “Ianuae Magicae!” The scroll burnt up in a blue flame and Ivan vanished in a blinding light.
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