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Omensent: Wrath of a Dragon God




  Omensent

  Wrath of a Dragon God

  Book three of the Dragon Lord Series

  By Barry A. Gibbons

  Omensent

  Wrath of a Dragon God

  Book three of the Dragon Lord series

  by

  Barry A. Gibbons

  Copyright © License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Prelude

  He drew in a deep breath, savoring the taste of fresh air after untold eons. It had been hundreds of centuries since he had chosen to leave his place among the heavens, where he watched over his children with all seeing eyes, but recent events had unfolded that needed his full attention, forcing him to return to the world that he had left to his children so long ago.

  He exhaled heavily. It was because of his children that he had returned. He had watched as many of them were slaughtered while childishly fighting amongst themselves, until one brood was finally defeated by the other, and was subsequently banished from the world, never to rise again.

  He snarled, causing twin curls of smoke to drift up from his nostrils. The decision to accept the oath and banish his children was not an easy one to make, but in the end, he had decided that they would be far better off banished, rather than killed off one by one. He accepted the oath, and cast the entire brood down into the depths of the earth where they would remain in a semi-permanent hibernation until the end of time.

  With the brood's banishment, his remaining children flourished and spread throughout the world. The centuries rolled by without incident, until a new plague enveloped the land. Humans. The elves and the dwarves had learned to dwell along side of his children, but the humans seemed completely incapable of living in peace with anyone, including themselves. He had been forced to watch as the world erupted into turmoil, and a number of his children fell to the blades of men.

  But he chose to remain aloof from the chaos, allowing everything to play out as it may, trusting in the knowledge that his children were still the most dominant species in the world. The years continued to roll by, and the humans continued to be a nuisance, but after a number of fatal confrontations with his children, they decided that their efforts would be better spent harassing the others races, and began avoiding his children altogether.

  Then one day he looked down upon the world and saw that a new race had been spawned. A corrupted race, born from the blood of his children. Dragonspawn. Created by a human sorcerer, and perverted by magic, these dragonspawn soon looked to him as their god. At first, he spurned the prayers of these corrupted beasts, despising the fact that they were the result of a human's work. But after a time, he realized that at their core, they were still in some small way his children. He finally relented, and looked down upon his new children with favor.

  The eons passed and he was pleased. His new children spread across the land, driving off many of the humans that had infested nearly every corner of the world. The humans were no real match for his new children, and they were soon driven out of the wild lands to dwell in the open areas of the world, where they constructed cities and cultivated the lands to suit their needs.

  Everything was as it should be, and he was content, until the fateful day that he looked down to find no sign of his true children anywhere in the world below, and though he looked for hundreds of years, he could not find any trace of them anywhere.

  Then, only a few years earlier, his children reemerged into the world once more, controlled by a mythical sword which was wielded by a man unlike any other that had lived before. This human had the blood of dragons flowing in his veins, linking him to the great serpents like no other human before him. He watched the human with great interest, seeing within him a glimmer of something truly great.

  Then the human did something that surprised even him. The man released his children to live free once more. This act pleased him greatly. What did not please him was the fact that when the human released them from their prison, he also somehow managed to release the banished brood from their imprisonment, allowing them to enter the world once more.

  He had been livid that the brood had managed to cheat their fates, slipping the bonds of their oaths to reemerge once again into the world that had cast them out. Even though his anger knew no bounds, he refrained from interfering, and allowed his children to remain free, unwilling to banish from the world again.

  Staying true to their character, the brood renewed their war against their brethren, the scarlet dragons, throwing the entire world into chaos once more as they began to spread the seeds of destruction throughout the land.

  It was then that the human surprised him once again by tracking down the brood and releasing their brethren upon them. Many of the brood had been slaughtered in the following mayhem, and the rest were scattered to the four winds, finding refuge in only the most remote areas of the world.

  He watched this strange human with a calculating gaze. This man had faced the entire brood, and had emerged victorious! Instead of being furious, he had been intrigued. This man, a man with the blood dragons in his veins, had managed to do something that he would have never dreamed possible!

  Then a unique opportunity suddenly presented itself. This dragon man produced an offspring. An infant girl unlike any born before. With her birth, he saw a chance to bring about a new reign to the world that he had left behind so long ago. He reluctantly left his place among the heavens above, and returned to the world once more, ready to put his plans into motion.

  Now he stood at the edge of a cliff, staring out over the vast ocean that separated him from his unknowing quarry. This child shall help him give birth to an entirely new race of serpents, stronger and more powerful than any before, and his children would once again hold dominance over the world that had once belonged to them.

  He drew in another breath of the sweet air, then turned and disappeared into the shadows. He would need to call upon the aid of those who he could trust to help carry out his plans, including several that he would had never called upon otherwise. But his plans were far too important for him to allow his distaste to color his judgment. He would call upon those he would need, and they will help him, or he shall destroy them.

  Chapter 1

  The huge smoky grey warhorse slowly emerged from the darkness, its hooves scarcely making a sound as it trotted through the drizzling rain towards the gates of the mountain city of Sevria. Its rider, an enormous figure wrapped in a long hooded cloak, nudged the great shaggy beast forward and guided it towards the open gates, which was located in between a pair of massive dragon skulls that had been mounted on the enormous battlements that surrounded the city.

  "Halt!" One of the soldiers that guarded the gate commanded, rushing forward to block the rider's advance. "Identify yourself!"

  The huge figure reined in the shaggy warhorse, then reached up and lowered his hood. "It's me. Captain." The huge man answered with a friendly smile.

  "Lord Omensent!" The captain exclaimed in surprise. "We weren't expecting you until morning!"

  The enormous man slid down from his saddle, and stood towering over the tallest soldier by nearly two feet. "I didn't feel like hanging around Sierra any longer than I really had to." He made a face, which was exaggerated by the thick ridge of dark red scales that grew across his brow and stretched back to each temple on either side of hi
s head. "I don't think I could have taken another second of listening to those merchants whine about paying their taxes."

  "That's what merchants do best, milord." The captain laughed. "Not a week goes by that we don't catch some merchant trying to sneak out of town without paying his fees."

  "Has there been any trouble while I was gone?"

  The soldier shook his head. "It's been quiet, although there have been a few reports of a one armed shadowspawn lurking somewhere in the area."

  "That would be Slither. He shouldn't cause any problems," The huge man frowned. "but it's unusual that he would allow himself to be seen. He must be trying to get my attention. Where was he last seen?"

  "Along the edge of the forest on the other side of the trade road. The creature appears whenever someone approaches the city gates, and lingers long enough to insure that it has been seen, then disappears back into the forest."

  "It definitely sounds as though he's trying to get my attention."

  "Do you wish me to summon some men to accompany you to confront the creature?" The captain asked respectfully.

  The huge man shook his head, causing his long chestnut hair to fall into his eyes. "I had better check in at the castle first. I'm sure they will want to know that I have made it back safely. I'll go find out what Slither wants a little bit later." He remounted, then continued on through the gates and towards the massive castle that overlooked the settlement.

  Sevria was a unique little town, built along the only trade route that passed through the Godstear mountains. It was a necessary haven from the numerous dangers that plagued the land, threatening the lives of those who attempted to make their way through the mountains. The city itself was completely enclosed inside of an immense granite wall that cut across the valley, protecting the people from the dangers of the wilds. A number of strange looking siege machines were positioned along the top of the wall, providing another layer of protection for the sleepy little settlement.

  The people of Sevria were a sober, industrious folk, fiercely protective of their tiny slice of heaven. The entire town had been destroyed several years before, but the people had returned to rebuild their homes and businesses, refusing to allow themselves to be driven away. Even an attack by an army of dragonspawn and several shadow dragons could not drive the determined townsfolk from their homes.

  Overlooking the town and its inhabitants was an immense fortress carved into the mountain side itself. Named 'Serpent's Keep' by the people, it had been constructed by dragons as a symbol of the bond between the majestic scarlet serpents, and the man who released them from their enslavement.

  The huge man moved slowly through the quiet town. It was well after midnight now, and the people had long went to their beds. The only activity he found as he moved through the city was at the local tavern. As he approached, two men suddenly burst out of the doors, reeling drunkenly as they clung tightly to one another in an effort to hold each other up.

  One of the men, a short, wiry fellow with a scraggly beard and dirty, unkempt hair, suddenly stopped, his bleary eyes going wide. "Damion?" He roared, releasing his grip on the other man, allowing him to topple to the cobblestones. "What are you doing back so soon? I thought you weren't due back until tomorrow?"

  "I thought I'd come home a little early." The huge man laughed. "I didn't want to miss the celebration. It isn't every day that your daughter celebrates her first birthday," He looked at the little man and his companion. "but by the looks of it, the celebration has already begun."

  The little man waved his hand dismissively. "Me and Veren were only having a couple of nightcaps." He gestured to the unconscious man, who was still laying face down on the cobblestones. "We'll be ready to really let loose when it comes time for the celebration tomorrow."

  Damion laughed, then slid down from the huge warhorse and walked over to nudge the unconscious man with one toe. "I think Veren may need a little help making it back to the castle." He observed, nudging the man again.

  "He can't hold his ale." The little man shrugged. "He thought he could out drink me," The little man snorted in amusement. "I guess he didn't know who he was dealing with!"

  The huge warrior knelt down and rolled the unconscious man onto his back. He was an odd looking fellow, with a cleanly shaved head, and dark swarthy skin. His eyes were strangely slanted, and at some point in his life he had lost an ear. He was dressed in a tight fitting leather armor that was was bristling with numerous daggers, and he had a short sword belted securely to his waist. "How many drinks did he have?"

  The scruffy little man shrugged. "We lost count after the first dozen or so."

  "Sly," Damion sighed plaintively. "Didn't I ask you to stop dragging Veren along with you when you go drinking?"

  "It's his own fault." The little man said defensively. "He said he could handle having a few drinks."

  "You know every time that he accompanies you drinking it takes him days to fully recover." The huge man sighed heavily. "I guess we had better drag him on up to the castle. We can't just leave him here in the center of the street." He heaved the unconscious man onto his shoulders. then carried him over and draped him across the warhorse's saddle.

  They set off towards the castle on foot, leading the warhorse along by the reins. They stopped in the courtyard, and Damion gently pulled the unconscious man down from the warhorse.

  "Take him to his quarters and see that he's looked after." The huge man told the servants that tended the livery. "He's probably going to need a bucket for when he wakes, and make sure he has plenty of coffee waiting on him when he finally regains consciousness."

  "He's going to need it!" Sly snorted in amusement. "The last time we went drinking, he spent the entire next day emptying his stomach into a potted plant."

  Damion rolled his eyes, then sighed wearily. "You'd better find your own bed. It's late, and the celebration for Leia's first birthday will start bright and early."

  "That's not a bad idea." The little man agreed, swaying unsteadily on his feet. "I'll need my energy for all the celebrating I'm planning on doing."

  Damion watched in amusement as one of his oldest friends disappeared into the castle, then turned and led the shaggy warhorse towards his pen.

  Sly never seemed to change. He had known the scruffy little man since he was a child. After demonstrating an ability to use magic at an early age, Damion had been sent away to a secluded valley to live with his nanny, Lady Skie, and her father, Damarius, who was an powerful old sorcerer. Gabriel Quickhand, or Sly as he preferred to be called, had journeyed to the valley to take up Damion's training in the art of combat. When Damion's father was murdered, the little man stood with him as he pursued the murderer across the continent, recovering the mythical Dragon Sword and Dragon Gem in the process. His wisdom and expertise as one of the fore most master swordsmen in the entire world had proved invaluable, which more than made up for the fact that he was also a drunkard, a womanizer, and a thief.

  The huge man led the prancing warhorse into its pen, then removed the saddle and bridle, much to the massive beast's obvious relief. He picked up a hand full of hay and began to rub the huge stallion down, removing the majority of the rain from its shaggy coat. He was just finishing when the servants returned from tending to Sly's unconscious companion.

  "We managed to drag Commander Veren to his quarters, and woke one of the castle clerics to watch over him until he wakes." One of the servants reported, eyeing the warhorse warily. He gestured to the shaggy beast. "Storm bit another servant the other day. I swear he spends all his spare time waiting for his opportunity to sink his teeth into someone!"

  Damion laughed, stroking the warhorse's neck fondly. "It's just his way of being playful. He's actually quite gentle, when he wants to be." The huge warhorse had been a gift from a Deolan clan chief as thanks for saving the man's life, and was one of Damion's most cherished possessions. The Deolan warhorses were bred for war, and were well known for being extremely temperamental and aggressive. The Deola
guarded the beasts jealousy, rarely allowing one to be sold to an outsider, and only then for enormous sums of gold. "Make sure he has plenty to eat and drink, and check his back left hoof for any stone bruises. He seemed to be favoring it a bit, although he may have just been faking it. He definitely wasn't happy that I decided to ride through the night to get home." He turned to the great shaggy horse. "Get yourself some rest." He murmured fondly, stroking the stallion's shaggy neck again.

  Storm nickered at him happily, then turned to gaze at the servant aggressively.

  Damion laughed. "And stop biting the servants. No one's going to want to feed you if you keep terrorizing everyone."

  The huge warhorse ignored him, pawing at the ground with one hoof as he continued to stare at the servant with hostile eyes.

  ************

  Damion slowly crept through the doorway leading to his private chambers, which was located in the upper levels of the massive fortress. The storm outside had finally made its way out of the mountains, and the moonlight broke through the remaining clouds and streamed through the large windows that looked out over the quiet town below.