The Misfortunate Man

The

Misfortunate Man

By Jose A. Mesa and Gracely Rodriguez

Chapter 1

The Child of Fire

You ask for my name, I am the misfortune man. I am no longer a part of this world, I'm dead, a forgotten figure of the past. But ill get back to that later. This story begins  many days prior, on the night of the black moon. The eve of our unraveling demise. What is the night of the black moon you ask? Well once a year on this magical night the entire kingdom looks up to the sky in amazement and remembrance of the night Eagles perch was conquered by the first king of Ironblood.

The sound of trumpets blaring, the pounding of the beating drums. Banners drawn red and streaming high within the castles great hall. The spectators anxiously await Prince Dragel Ironblood and his upcoming performance. Swing! Goes the doors, the crowd stands erect as the figure of Prince Ironblood is seen through the radiant display of his armor glistening in the sun. Sword in hand and posture stern and majestic, Dragel marches towards the throne accompanied by his loyal servant Krom. Dragel softly speaks to Krom as he walks down the great hall approaching his father "I tell him that this display is a bit much! But for some reason he insists on today! Of all days! The nerve! But then again who am I to deny my father the enjoyment he receives from such theatrics, he is my father after all. Known throughout the kingdom as the festival king. What say you krom?" "Well sire, he is you father. This spectacle is to show your strength to the people of eagles perch, your people! To show that you will be a strong leader like your father and his father before him and his father before him. It is an honor to be put on display as you test your strength as the king instructs" responded Krom with a brief stutter

Dragel reaches the throne, kneeling to the ground with a fist placed over his heart. This sign of respect and obedience that Dragel shows pleases the king as Dominus stands and approaches his son placing his hand on his shoulder. “Arise my son, lets get this under way shall we, show our people the great skill and power of and Ironblood!”

Dragel rises , head held high and rich with pride and says “Who is to be my opponent father?” as he rotates away from the king facing the other end of the great hall. “Who is to wield their sword against mine?” Dragel glances at the knights filling the hall antagonizing them to step forward and attack him, his smug eyes challenging every one of the stoney knights.

King Dominus raising his hand and smiling says “Knights! Move forward and present yourselves as my sons opponents!” Commands the kings authority dripping with every word.

The knights step forward, swords sheathed and faces blank. the men standing before the king awaiting orders. “These 3 men, These sons of noblemen shall be your opponents, devoted only to their loyalty and armed with a killers instinct”. Quicker than a Venomous vipers strike,Stronger than a raging Timber Bull, and deadlier than a Woodland Bears maul. Their blackarmor engraved with scales bearing the Ironblood crest. striking terror to those in their presence , as if hell itself had rejected them; bringing men to their knees with just one glance

“Well then, which of your Hellhounds shall face me first father?” questioned Dragel with a smirk on his face. “You will face them all” said the king with a grin while watching  Dragels blank face as there was no worry or nervousness in his eyes. The king turns around and reseated himself Grasping his chalice of ale awaiting the fight to commence. the crowd mutters in hushed whispers each anxious with excitement. The Prince takes his stance and readies himself placing a hand on his blade brushing off Kroms attempts at handing his a shield. The noble ladies of the court waving their favors , their soft prays of victory barely being heard.

The knights gather and surround the Prince as Dragel draws his sword. The cold sharp steel winking in the light thirsty for first blood; Muscles coiling ,awaiting the first strike. Lords and Ladies hold their breaths in anticipation, the battle has begun.