A few days ago I blogged about the role of faith in an epic high fantasy story.  Now, if I mentioned faith and sacrifice in the same sentence would you automatically think, “Oh no, here comes a Jesus Christ reference!”

Think for a moment of a soldier.  A soldier is one who goes to battle to protect those he loves from what appears to be of evil intent.  He has faith in his commanders judgment and is willing to lay down his life for what he believes is the highest of chivalric and noble character – to give one’s life for something greater than himself.  Now, this certainly is no reference to Jesus Christ, who died to save mankind of its sins.

Now go one step further.  If a person received a command by the highest authority, his creator, and was supplied with gifts to set off on a journey to free seven enslaved races, knowing full well there will be tests and possible sacrifice, would you still insist the story was about Jesus Christ?

Here’s the setup.  The Unseen, the mythical creator of my universe, pondered the creation of life, both immortal and mortal.  What would happen and which would be more noble?  His first thought is that the immortals would be, so he creates ten to steward over ten heavenly worlds, until he sees very quickly that from free will there are those that will not submit to his authority.  He then creates mortal beings and for the immortals to be their stewards.  He then proclaims that one day from the line of the first prophet, in the seventh line, a seventh son, Arimar, the messenger, will be born and that all evil will attempt to destroy him and his followers.  The rebellious steward, Haggarfuse, unwilling to submit, designs to destroy everything and one-by-one nine worlds fall to complete death and darkness.  It is on the final world, Allivar, which means The One Family, converges with their created beasts and demons.  Arimar at birth is rushed and veiled until he reaches the age of wisdom and is then called to set off on his task.  Having free will he almost commits suicide for the stress is too high with the expectations placed on him from prophecy, which is no more than a test.

Now that you have an idea of the brief history, Arimar sets off on his journey, which is just as perilous as any you have ever read.  There is a journey to the north to confront a possessed king and then there is a journey home through a land where evil’s creations are Bound to Forbidden Lands, with every step being a test of faith.

Then the final battle of good and evil arrives in Last Stand of the Living.  Here all the captains, the seventh son of he seventh generation of each race, rises from the fallen ages, to stand united. There in the battle, that is being lost, Arimar sees all that he loves: his captains and Elissia, whom he hopes to marry one day, sacrifice all they are, but appear to die to in a vain attempt.  When he could easily lose his faith, Arimar is given a choice, to leave with the Unseen and not experience death, or to stay and die with all that remains of his mortal family.  He then bargains with the Unseen that if he gives his own life, would the remaining peoples of the races be saved.  The Unseen asks if he would truly do such a thing.  Arimar offers it freely.

This is where I will tell you no more, because the battle takes a turn you will not see coming, yet was hinted over and over again in the first nine chapters of Rise of the Fallen. All I can say here, is that the battle is the largest I have ever read, which includes those found in the Lord of the Rings.  How is that for a teaser?

The moral is simple, are we the living more worthy of stewardship than the immortals?  Will the pain of loss and death teach us more of racial harmony and the stewardship of worlds?  Are we able to withstand every test and stand for our faith?  Will we, the living, stand against evil in all its forms and do what is right?  Are we worthy enough? We will not see the fleeting nature of life, and the futility of war and hatred?  We will understand the gift of life with all its pains?

This is the gist of the trilogy, then there are the upcoming Chronicles of Allivar, which is a parallel journey of history and events of the nine fallen worlds, the first six ages of Allivar and the final story in the seventh age – the age of light.  When you complete the trilogy you will understand the nature and path of the chronicles.  The first in this series is titled – The Fall of Helloria.

Seven is a significant number for it represents perfect completion.  This is a hint for you as a reader.  All you need to do is take a leap of faith and enter my world of Allivar.  You will think, you will cry, but I promise you this too… you will cheer.

This is a mythology covering creation, life and the end of the ages.  Those who love The Silmarillion, The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings should easily understand the context and construct of my stories.



Sketching Your Demon


Haggarfuse – A Charamorg

As an author and self-publisher, I do it all, including all technology duties.  Recently, one of my reader’s suggested I provide images of my creations.  This would help them visualize the characters and demons.  I truly love to leave such issues to the imagination of the reader, but if a simple sketch can help excite these readers and future readers, then I will take the time.

Let me say that my day job is being an accountant.  Going back as far as I can remember, I have had an active imagination.  I am possibly ADD. Back in my youth, I’d draw monsters on paper and cut them out to play with.  We didn’t have video games – 3,000 TV channels, or other devices of modern technology we now take for granted or feel entitled to.  We read.  We went to see the movies when we could save enough money for the ticket, a soft drink, and one large salty pickle.  Our visual effects of the day now seem lame, but back then they sparked the imagination with a fury. I still vividly recall the monsters of my youth: The Creature of the Black Lagoon, Valley of the Gwangi, Godzilla, King Kong, Frankenstein, Dracula, Alien and most of all – The Exorcist. Then I’d daydream on those nights that sleep evaded me.  I created my own worlds and heroes, and the demons and monsters those heroes fought.  I never wanted to be an accountant, I actually wanted to be an architectural engineer, designing homes and structures.  I wanted to be a creator with this imagination. But with all things, reality crashes in and one must find a method of support.  Accounting has been good for me in this respect.

Above is a rough sketch of one of my creations, demented as it might be.  What you are seeing is Haggarfuse, a Charamorg, an ethereal steward of the damned.  One might consider him to be the devil, the one who rebelled against his maker, who brought havoc upon worlds, an immortal envious of the creator’s perceived preference to mortals .  Here in his damned state he is meant to be fearful so that all the living would easily recognize evil by sight.

It has been thirty years since I took sketching seriously.  This was the result of a couple of hours of effort.  Time, at the age of 54, is very precious to me.  I’ve worked more hours in the last 33 years than I can recall, too many nights and weekends lost,  devoted to complying with the laws of the land dictated by those in power.  I don’t know how many years I have left in this physical realm, but with what I have left, I want to return to that wonderment of my youth.  I want to create.  Not only a epic story of mythological proportion, but to bring the visions of my mind before those that still find wonderment in this world and beyond.

If you are like me in this regards, I invite you to join me on this journey.

“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.”

Edgar Allan Poe

The Other “F” Word – The Devil Made Me Do It


I read the news to stay current with current affairs and to write redundant sentences, such as this current one. I swear you cannot make this stuff up.  It is out of the headlines of our absurd news. This story appeared out of nowhere like a green methane fog.

Flatulent Demons – that’s right!  It’s now my newest excuse to use on my wife.  It’s the church’s fault that the demon vault has been opened.  Beelzebubblebutt is his namo.  After reading this I am going to the local church and ask for an exorcism. When my affliction remains, I’ll sue for $10 million. I deserve it right? I mean really, I didn’t win honorable mention in the latest Powerball drawing.  I’m entitled to something for my lack of luck in life and high gas pressure content, right?   I have a witness to my possession.  Late at night the grumblings occur and the sheets quake and my wife calls out in agony,

OMG – are you possessed?  What’s inside you?  I swear it’s like a lake of sulfur in here burning my eyes!

See!!!!  I have indisputable corroborating evidence.  Wives never lie! So next time she screams in the darkness, I am going to use a low voice,

This is Beelzebubblebutt, it’s not his fault. Bwahahaha.

She will shake me and I will gently rollover and say, “What?”

There’s a demon in here!

Yes honey I know, I’ve filed motion in the district court against the church.  They failed to exorcise my hiney.

Only you can exercise your hiney. I’m not falling for this for a moment, she says.

Not exercise, like at the gym, like a demon exorcism.  You know the one’s that make millions at the box office?

Well, that’s not funny, now I have to get out of the warm bed and go to the bathroom, you *$(#)#@@!

Geez, humor is so wasted on a wife.  I roll over and then there’s a rumbling, from her side, and a new fog rises, along with the bed. A reddish yellow haze fills the room and I dare take a whiff.

OMG – my eyes, my eyes.  What the *$(#)#@@! was that?

Next thing I know my wife is speaking in tongues – with ten tongues. She twirls her head around and spits pea soup at me.  In a deep and malevolent voice she says,

“My flatulent demon – Assmodeus. Bwahahaha.”

Touche! I high-five her, we have an other-worldly laugh, and I give her a little golden faux Oscar trophy- Winner of Best Special Effects. There’s nothing worse than a showoff wife!  However, when you dare to look on the bright side of life, I now have a class action lawsuit.  Oh, the devil made me do it.

What news article have you read lately that just seemed too unreal and so funny that you accidentally passed a demon?

I am King Yubal

I am the king of Allivar, the seventh king of the line of Yubal, I have been given the surname “The Destroyer.”  Yet, I reluctantly take this crown passed to me by my father before he went mad, it is my life’s burden and bane.  The one I love, Narcissia, all but hates me.  I see this in her actions and her eyes.  I would give all that has been passed to me for her love.  Who can give me this? Who can end my nightmares and pain?  I know of the prophecy and of the one foretold.  I am told this chosen one, this Arimar, is one to usurp my power and free the slaves that my wealth and power are derived from.  I have been told to fear the rise of the fallen seven races.

There he stands, Arimar, in my court in direct defiance of my power, yet he presents a confidence and power I have never seen before.  He asks only for the freedom of the seven races, my heart is willing, but a battle rages in my mind.  Am I going mad?  I will throw him into the coliseum and see if he can survive the spectacle of “Blood Run.” He has attracted the attention of Narcissia and she secretly desires him.  If I cannot have her then no one shall.  For every decree I order, I curse my own royal subjects. There is death, disease and hunger in my streets now, yet something clouds my mind and has taken control of me.  I want this to end, I can no longer bear it.   I will free the slaves if Arimar can end my suffering.  I awake this day to find my mind cleared, Arimar has freed my mind and my soul from the possession of Haggarfuse, who has been bound to forbidden lands.  He will leave the kingdom now and I learn that his only path to his homeland is through those very lands. How can he survive the horrors that dwell there?

The damned one has returned.  This time with a wrathful vengeance and he possesses my mind and soul fully.  Through me, Haggarfuse, the destroyer of worlds, will rise the seven armies of Allivar. I realize now that I was no more than a pawn in an ethereal battle, and what power I had been granted was merely temporary. Haggarfuse has used my power to bring forth this final war. We rally our forces of the armies and navies to set siege on the homeland of Arimar. I have beasts at my command and the forces of Arimar are too few, yet they fight bravely day and night now for forty days. We will kill them all and burn everything, nothing will survive, this will be the last stand of the living.  The age of the mortals will come to an end. What have I become?  I now know the origin of my surname.

I am King Yubal – the destroyer of Allivar, the last heavenly world.


Prepare for Battle!

You surely recall Gandalf saying these words as Minas Tirith was about to come under siege by the forces of Sauron, “Prepare for Battle.”  When I began writing the siege of Masara in the third book of my trilogy, Last Stand of the Living, I wanted to exceed the battle scene of Pelennor Fields.  In the Silmarillion, there is also the battle of sudden flames in which orcs, balrogs and dragons join Morgoth’s forces.  Unlike the Lord of the Rings, I wanted a single and decisive battle with varying twist and turns.

Let me set the scene.  The hero, Arimar, has undergone a quest to free those enslaved by a possessed king.  He has struggled mightily to return to his homelands with those he earned freedom for.  He has reconciled the races, but now he has discovered that the forces of evil are gathering an army to destroy the last of ten heavenly worlds.  These forces consist of giants, dragons, men, hybrid demons and weapons.  The forces of good are asked by the creator to do no more than withstand the onslaught for forty days and forty nights, with a final revelation to be given.  The small forces of good, 140,000 must build a five mile long wall and trench in six months to withstand this onslaught.  Arimar appoints one male each of the races as the captains for this battle to stand and defend a section along that five mile wall.

Word has been dispatched to call for aid from all of the seven races, yet the couriers are captured, leaving only the 140,000 to fight this battle against millions.  Arimar’s Dayanaran (think of someone from India) friend, Murlach, is a military engineer that designs weapons to kill as many as possible.  Everyone, including the young and elderly are taught in some manner to fight, to make their last stand.

At this point, I will give you no more details, except to prepare you for the largest battle scene, in my opinion, to ever be written, for it not only involves all the mortal forces of good and evil, but the ethereal forces as well.  My readers best describe this battle as an emotional roller coaster. The first two books set the stage of this mythical world and its characters, but the final story will grip you paragraph by paragraph. As George RR Martin kills off characters for seemingly no reason, the deaths in my story have a purpose, only revealed at the very end of times.

Prepare your heart for the battle ahead and have tissue ready.

I am Arimar

As I stand here overlooking the forces amassed against us, I ask how did it come to this?  I have now journeyed for two years and have faced evil at every turn.  Somehow I survived my journey north and freed those enslaved by King Yubal and aided in the freeing of his mind.  Yet at every step Haggarfuse and his minions watched and waited for me to stumble.  So many have looked up to me and so many times I have failed them.  Why did you choose me? What do you see that I cannot?

Our journey home through the forbidden lands cost us dearly and in those lands of death I almost lost Elissia, the one I love, yet the very one I cannot reveal my love to. Would their lives have been better had I not been born?  To carry the weight of prophecy as the chosen one of Allivar has been a struggle.  I am no immortal, even with these gifts I have been given. The immortals, these fallen stewards have risen against us all and their armies now stand before me, trembling the very ground and veiling the light of the heavens.  Their beasts and machines of war are about to be unleashed.  I fear the moment that this final war shall begin.

I have so many questions unanswered.  Who are my parents and are they still alive?  Do they suffer not knowing my fate as much as I suffer not knowing theirs?  Why was I chosen and why do the captains of the living races follow me?  Why should they lay down their lives to follow me?  I have sent out the word for aid and yet the message never made it out of the valley.  We are alone and outnumbered one hundred and forty thousand to four hundred million.  I cannot withstand this onslaught, or provide words of comfort, yet I have been asked to make a stand by the Unseen.  I do not see his purpose. Without victory all my efforts seem useless and meaningless.  Why am I here, what is to be gained?  As I turn to see my company, men and women ready to lay down their lives, I owe them everything that I am.  Why do they follow me?  Why did you choose me?

For forty days the battle has raged and all around me, all that I have befriended and loved as my own family, lie dead before me. They have fought beyond recall. I have been cursed by the sole survivors and now I stand alone.  My body is mortally wounded, yet nothing is as painful as my heart which now bursts. Have we, have I been forsaken by you my creator?  I have a choice, be taken by you now or stand for the last of the living.  By my death, should the last heavenly world of Allivar remain, then my purpose would have been just.  Just remember me, my creator, the one you named the messenger. What message shall I leave when the world succumbs to defeat and darkness, when I could not protect them.  I would give my life here and now, for peace and a new day’s dawn. Why did you choose me?

As the darkness almost takes me there a glorious light. My spirit is renewed and a voice calls out to me.  “I have chosen well.  You shall suffer no more doubts and all your questions shall fade.  You have stood as I have asked. Now prepare for my stand.  Now who are you?”

I am Arimar, the Chosen One of Allivar.