12 Lugh: Age 5

Two years, it went by like it was nothing. I guess time flies when you're having fun with training and nurturing Spirit and Specter. They've started maturing, and have grown taller than me. It won't be that way forever, but I can actually start riding them now. I'd need to actually make them saddles, of course, but I'm still excited to learn.

Speaking of making, I should go and visit the Dwarves again. This time Gildor, no hammer is going to stop me. My strength has grown exponentially since I went there the first time. Now, I can easily lift both the hammer and the net with ease. Oh shit, I forgot to ask them about the net I found on my first birthday. Dammit, I usually am much more cognizant of these things. My memory is supposed to be near perfect, after all, I still remember everything from The Void.

It doesn't matter, I'm headed there anyways, I'll just ask them now. I hope it isn't a long story, if they know anything about it. I suppose I should be ready for that scenario, but it still worries me. Maybe if I act all tired they won't be long-winded. Well. at least it wouldn't be like one of Dad's stories, which can take an entire day to tell.

There it is, the Dwarven Workshop, home of the 45 Dwarves that inhabit the Palace. And, like last time, they are all non-stop forging. Even Gildor is hammering away like there's no tomorrow. I guess it's not really a good time to ask questions. But I'm going to anyways, mainly cause I'm still slightly angry about the whole hammer incident. I know I shouldn't be holding a grudge, but I think I'm allowed to have a least one childish grievance. I am only 5 years old, after all.

"Hey! Gildor!"

"What do ya want, boy? Can'tya see I'm busy? Is this about the forging lesson? I told ya already, pick up that hammer and then we'll talk."

"That's part of it, but I have something for you to look at!"

"Alright, Aright! I'll be finished in a minute anyway, so just wait outside!"

'Finished in a minute' sure, that's what you say, but you actually mean in an hour. I guess I don't really have a choice, I have to wait.

*One Hour*

I was right, he actually meant an hour. Sometimes, I think it's a real burden to be right all the time. Is this how Moms feel? Well, it doesn't matter at the moment, I still have to show Gildor the net. My hope is that he knows something about it, even if it's vaguely.

"Alright, my boy, what did'ya want to show me? Something ya made?"

"No, it's an adamantite net I found when I got my first Contracts."

"Adamantite? For a net? That's wasteful, my boy. No self-respecting Dwarf would ever use metal as precious as that for something as time-consuming as a net."

"Well, here, I'll show you."

I opened up my personal dimension, and grab the net. It comes out, in the exact same condition it went in, not a single speck of dust had blemished it.

"Oh ho, that's impressive, my boy. A Dimension at this age, nobody'd believe it without seeing it. Now, let's take a closer look at this junk and see who'd be so foolish as to fashion this crap."

He starts off by smelling it, I suppose to tell what quality of adamantite was used. From my experience, I'd say its metal came from medium-high quality ore, meaning it's either medium or high quality metal, depending on how good the smith was. That's just my opinion though, I can't tell exactly since I'm not a Dwarf.

"Hah, this metal is of medium-tier, which says the smith was lacking a bit. I'd say he was getting near the Mastersmith level. While I was checking quality, I also found an insignia, two hammers crossing and a spear through the middle. I know this branding, it's my cousin Ornst's shop sign. The bastard only makes gear for either illicit Hunters, or his slimy Poacher friends. I've tried to get the idiot to fix his ways, but now I know he's still at it. Damn, I've given him too many chances, he needs to rot in prison. Maybe that'll teach him. Thanks for bringing this to my attention, later I'll have the Queen send a message to the Dwarf King and he'll decide what to do with Ornst."

"Can we go back inside? I'd like to try again, if that's okay."

"Sure boy, just don't get mad when you fail!"

Heh, that's what you think, old man. I'll prove just how wrong you are. Let's go and witness my glorious redemption. Here it is, my first true enemy, an adamantite hammer, heavier than all 45 anvils in here put together. But watch in amazement as I lift it with one arm, over my head.

"WHAT! NO, THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE. THAT HAMMER IS A GIMMICK TO TEACH YOUNG DWARVES PATIENCE. IT'S TOO HEAVY TO WIELD PROPERLY!" Gildor rough voice thunders through the smithy, alerting all the Dwarves present.

"OH!"

Gasps come from all their mouths, stunned at the sight of a five year old lifting what amounts to two buses with one arm. Ah, this is what I wanted, silence, utter silence coming from the rowdiest race. Perfection, I've been dreaming of this moment since my failure. Whoa there, I got a little to close to 'Young Master' territory. Let's stop this train of thought here.

This hammer doesn't feel all that heavy, even when my strength is being suppressed by my pyjamas. Dragon's must really benefit from training, gaining power rapidly. Or I've pushed my body and broken my limits. No, I still have hair so that wouldn't make sense. Anyways, I should gloat a bit to seem childish, that should keep appearances up.

"Hahaha, See what happens when I put my mind to something! Shall we start my training now?"

"Sigh, I suppose I did say that I would teach you. Tomorrow, the break of dawn, be here, and we'll start."

Alright, now I have a proper teacher, instead of just going off of pure instinct. My crafts will reach a whole new level. I can already see it, my own sword cleaving a mountain perfectly in two. A true Legendary Weapon, easily worth more than an entire kingdom's total wealth. Ah, the joy of creation truly is the greatest. Later, I think I can melt that net down into ingots for use in the future. This day is a great day.

(*********'s Underground Lair)

"Damn, these bodies have taken longer to find than I thought. My project has been delayed years. I must have my revenge on Allisia and her pet Dragon. I'll show all those putrid High Elves that A Lich is the most dangerous enemy you can have. It doesn't matter, my plan won't be put into motion until their little brat's Tribulation. They'll be too occupied worrying about their precious son that I'll be able to sneak in countless Undead. Those mountains can't stop an internal battle. Soon, very soon I'll take my place on the throne."

A pair of glowing amber eyes can be seen waving in the darkness, and a haunting voice can be heard speaking. The nightmarish being known as a Lich. One whose body is undying and soul is eternal. A creature so foul, that nothing with life is safe from its deathly Aura. The mere presence of one means hordes of the Undead, poor souls who have lost their freedom, trapped within the shell of their corpses. This is Lugh's first true hurdle in his peaceful life, and he may not be ready.

A Lich is a being who long ago bound their soul to a special container called a Vessel or Phylactery. They forcefully sap others life and Mana to extend their own. As long as there is life around them, they will live forever. Only by finding their Vessel and destroying the soul within can they be killed. Damage to their corpse-like body will be repaired quickly, but enough can force them to retreat and recover. Any of the Races, excluding Dragons, can become a Lich, as Necromancy is the roots of Lichdom. Dragons cannot become Lichs because their immortal souls cannot be bound.

A powerful and dangerous opponent, will Lugh be ready?