In a dark firelit room there sat an old creature. He was surrounded by younglings of his kind, sitting in a semicircle around him, eagerly waiting for him to begin speaking. As the fireplace crackled and popped, the children wrapped their blankets more tightly around themselves and settled into the cushions they were seated on. The aroma of herbal tea filled the air, mixing with the smoky smell from the fire. The man smiled gently and took a sip from his mug, letting the tea ease his mind and help him recall events long past. He reached over to a side table to pick up an old journal then he sat back in his old rocking chair and began to speak.

“Now young ones, are you ready to hear my tale? It concerns the days of old, and the events that made our world what it is today. This happened when my grandfather was a child like yourselves, yet what I am about to tell you is the true, unchanged account of history.”

He paused to sip his tea again. He let his mind wander for a minute before one of the children squeaked out,

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Come on you geezer! Tell us the story already!”

The storyteller was shaken out of his memory and opened the old journal.

“This is a story of old, a story of adventure, a story of Heroes and Demons, a story of Kings and Emperors, the story of the end of an Age. This is the full account of the beginning of the end of the Age of Summoning.”

He paused for dramatic effect. It was an important part of storytelling, and it always made the children before him more interested in his dusty old tales.

“This is the story of the Endbringer, and how they were brought to their demise. Now, let us begin.”

He turned the page to the first entry in the journal and began to read.

“As all stories from the Age of Summoning, this one starts with the emergence of the King of Despair…”