Land of Lost Ages Prologue

This is a book I have been writing. I have not gotten to the editing stages yet though, so if you would be so kind as to ignore those. I have all the way up to almost finishing chapter five. Enjoy.

The Land of Lost Ages

Prologue

During the time of the Elves, when the Earth was still young, the world was at its first war. The Twelve Warlock Lords and their allies declared war on the Vales and their allies. The Vale was conquered almost within two monthes. The Warlocks gained power over the Vale, and the country of men was forced into submission and service.
Next came the Stacemark. They too fell but outlasted the Vale. The forces of darkness continued on. Destroying countries such as Vale, Stacemark, Gallen, Dreves, and Flade. But the country of Felldoh had been ready for years now. As with each new conquer and the alligence of the conqered A country was created. Not just a country. But a continent. They ruled a large area. Fortresses and flames where what they lived with. Volcanoes and wastelands. The ravages of war. But Felldoh stood strong. They had been preparing for war since the fall of the Vale. All the countries had but none had suceeded to drive the enemy of the land. They all had been destroyed and then reborn as Black hand. They conquered until they met Felldoh. Last line of defense before the world of the Haven.
The Black Core declaired war on Felldoh. But Felldoh was ready. The war raged on for twenty-two years, but when the battles reached their highest, and when the fortresses where over run with enemy hordes, the power of the Felldoh failed. They could not hold back the magic with the little amounts of creatures with magic they had left. Night elves, and Wizards were the extent of the magic. That is when the Black Guard kicked in. They took control of the armies. They became a secret force that the enemy Came to fear. They attacked the fortress of Felldoh, wich had been lost and was in posession of the iron grip of the enemy. The castle Felldoh was once the captial of the country Felldoh. Now its battle raged for the council of the Twelve as the warlocks titled themselves.
The battle ended in the deaths and defeat of Eleven of the Twelve. The ferocious battle took place in the council room itself. With the Black Guard facing off with the twelve to decide the fate of the free world. One mistake and it was over. That was all it would take. One member to loose his wit and bravery and the fate of the world was sealed. But the Black guard stood strong against the enemy and came out victorious. Twenty members of the Black Guard perished in the battle between the fight of magic. Only thirty remained. Thirty to go out into the world and keep peace for as long as it would last. Thirty to go out and find suitible apprentices to train. Yet that would not be long.
For the youngest escaped, the newest escaped. He had been taken in by the Lord of the Twelve to be trained as the first apprentice of the Twelve. He destroyed nine of the twenty Black guard that had died that day in his flight, killing countless soldiers as he went.
The war ended that day for all but the new Warlock Lord. He has plotted and planned all up until now. Thinking of how to redeem his lost honor and bring his terrible vengeance on the country of Felldoh and their old allies and their new allies. He had created his army and brought new creatures from the depths of the world. His revenge would be complete soon.

* * *

The dark sky billowed with the movement of black clouds that crossed the sky in seemingly hate. The ground below was an inferno of lava. The ground was cracked in places and the liquid fire leaked out in a madness that enveloped humanity as it enveloped the ground it came into contact with.
The elf beheld the ground’s surface. He saw that the thing was once again coming. He looked at the clouds. He lowered his head. A bow was grasped in his left hand. An arrow in his right. He stood, a statue among trembling ground. He waited, a shadow amongst dawns coming light. He prayed, a prayer against the blackness of the void of night itself. He trembled, a fear that overwhelmed all its victims.
Yet this elf was different. This elf was something else. He walked, a footstep of thunder. The valley below was the death of many yet still he walked. Brave yet fearful. Strong, yet weak. He walked as a vengeance against the world that had wronged him so.
Quasar had finally arrived.

Ooc: And here is chapter one. Im going back to redo it. So comments are welcome.

CHAPTER ONE
The Peace Treaty

“This is Outrageous!” bellowed Menelf. Menelf was the Lord of WOLAL. He is a wood elf and the oldest member of the WOLAL. “After two long years of war, he wants a peace treaty?”
“Better late, then never.” replied Triad, the night elf calmingly.
“I agree.” exclaimed Firon happily. Firon was the youngest member of the council. The young southlander was a man who always approached things in a, how shall we say rambuncsious way. “ After these long two years peace is finally wanted! Dont you see? This is our chance to continue our training and finish mastering our arts! This war has kept our arts from us yet he kept growing.”
“ Easy Firon. Peace treaties arent always as peacefull as you may believe.” replied Menelf grimly, his tall muscular structure towering over Firon.
“ We should go. I will personally lead this expedition.” stated Lothreian in his even toned voice. Lothreian was a young yet wise member of the council. He was not a WOLAL but he was a member of the palace council therefore involved in all meetings.
“Then I too will come.” I stated. Thats right me Flair. I am a young wood elf, prince that has become the apprentice of Lothreian. The king personnally hired Lothreian to be the trainer of his son, me.
“I ll come too.” stated Lemece, the night elf. He is the son of Triad of WOLAL.
“Your not leaving me behind!” stated Leecough firmly. Leecough was a air rider. Like Lothreian he too rode a giant creature. But unlike Lothreian his beast was a giant falcon, not a dragon. Very few were chosen to ride Dragons. Lothreian was one so fortunate. I hoped to be one day. Leecoughs falcon was called Twine and Lothreians dragon was called Stike. Dragons were massive beasts that could carry twelve full grown gordles.
Gordels were monstrous troll like creatures that have ram like horns that protrude from the front of their heads. They stnad twelve feet high at the least.
“We wouldnt dream of it.” stated Lothreian sarcastically.
“Its agreed then. The troop leaves at dawn to the valley of the dragon tail.” stated Menelf grudgingly.
Or as elves of all kinds call it, the valley of shadow.

* * *

Lothreian was tending to his dragon. I was helping. We were feeding him and preparing him for the long trip ahead.
“Do you think the treaty is actually a trap?” I asked.
“ I am going, believing with all my heart, that it is a trap. I could sense magic on the letter overwhelming other members of the Black guard. They were under his influence. Do not worry.” Lothreian responded. Then he walked away. I knew where he was going. The barracks. He was gathering our force.
Then I saw someone that I had never seen before. She was pretty. She was walking. Almost right by me. But then she saw me and stopped. For a few moments we made eye contact. Then Lothreian came back and my attention was momentarily distracted. Then she was gone. My attention was reaverted back to the task at hand.

It seems like a good story so far. It would be good if you put lines between each paragraph. That would make it easier to read. Also, you need to talk more about your character sooner in the chapter. I didn’t know it was first person until the 13th line.

Chapter one seemed short. Make it a little longer. Add more dialogue or something. Say what you’re thinking at the time.

Other than that it seems pretty good and I look forward to reading more.