Godborn. Ancient. Tyrant. Watcher.
Dear Friends:
Robert Heinlein wrote:
“Throughout history, poverty is the normal condition of man. Advances which permit this norm to be exceeded — here and there, now and then — are the work of an extremely small minority, frequently despised, often condemned, and almost always opposed by all right-thinking people. Whenever this tiny minority is kept from creating, or (as sometimes happens) is driven out of a society, the people then slip back into abject poverty.
This is known as ‘bad luck.’”
It’s a quote I’ve returned to often. Envy, in Rise of the Dragonlands as in our world, has a way of swallowing greatness.
Before the Scourge, the greatest of these were children of the gods. Kings, scholars, mages, artisans, they built works that outlasted their lifetimes before their divine fathers called them home to the Lands Beyond.
But not all met a happy end—nor were beloved of their gods.
The first you will meet is Anton Kazirian. Cast down by his god and forgotten by men.
On the message board where it began, Anton started as, what a friend said, “the last boss of a fighting game.” A big bad sadist with no backstory.
I couldn’t abide that.
As a teenager, I was a big professional wrestling fan. Yes, I knew it was staged but I loved the drama, the archetypes. The valiant babyface taking on the heel, the villain, the darkness. I found the heels had more depth—why do we hate him? Is he a coward who runs away and fights dirty? Is he arrogant; superior and he knows it? Or is he just a sadistic, evil monster?
But the most compelling ones had a reason. They spoke a twisted truth.
Anton is that kind of villain. Not evil for evil’s sake. Noble. Majestic. But his power had limits. His plea to his divine father to do what he could not—restore his people’s piety—brought down destruction. He watched his empire fall, his name gather dust, his people divide and war, while he lingered between life and death for two thousand years.
He is rage without release. Vision without voice.
And like all good heels, he needs his entrance music.
One of my favorite albums–a favorite for this Halloween season–is Iced Earth’s “Horror Show.” Each track delves into the mind of a classic villain—Frankenstein, Dracula, Damien Thorn.
The heavy guitar crunch of “Frankenstein,” plodding like the monster. The obsessive, blasphemous growl of the chorus. ”I will create in my own image / if God can, then why can’t I?” Like Dr. Frankenstein, Anton craves equality with his divine father.
The apocalyptic march of “Damien,” like end time promises fulfilled. “From the eternal sea he rises / creating armies on either shore / turning man against his brother / till man exists no more.” Like Damien, Anton threatens the world to achieve his plans.
The haunting buildup of “Dracula” before it explodes into a fury, “I avenge with darkness, The blood is The Life / The Order of the Dragon, I feed on human life.” The damnation of Dracula’s love who died by suicide, and the rage at the faith he fought for that condemned her. Like Dracula, Anton was betrayed by his faith and his god. (I saw this cruelty in my Catholic high school, where theology teachers condemned my friend who took his own life to hell. This is personal.)
What would “Anton” sound like?
A track like “A Malediction” by Kemper Crabb (yes, I know its theme and origin, but it’s not relevant, so hear me out)—the trembling voice, the wailing instruments, the curses on mankind.
Anton, while magnificent, was not omnipotent. He could not fight mankind’s natural turn towards wickedness and idolatry. Like Dracula, he once loved his god. He gave Varenox a heartfelt, innocent plea. And whether by envy or justice, his god destroyed all he had built. Forbade his release. Denied his body. Unable to act, only to watch.
Anton’s story isn’t a heavy metal scream. It’s a slow, gathering storm. He waited patiently, painfully, watchfully, for the one who could carry out his design. Who would lead the Dragonlands back to glory and force the Dragon God to call him “son” once again. Agni.
Yet like “A Malediction,” “Anton” would end with a heartfelt plea from the Mortal Realms…
“The Dragonlands cannot afford to live beneath your anger.
Oh, turn away your anger.”