Voicemail von Rosthorn

The Beginning
The story of Voicemail von Rosthorn is a long and cruel tale of one’s descent into madness, with faint glimpses of hope shining through the dark vail of fate. It all started on Voicemail’s 346th birthday, in a quaint kingdom of old called “Vaemore”. The virgin lands of this kingdom were beautiful and full of opportunity for a wizard making his way in the world. After studying dark magic for 300 years, Voicemail was finally ready to begin his journey to massive fortunes- though you’ll soon find these dreams changed slightly. He constructed a tall wizard tower of 6 floors. The tower was adorned with technology of all sorts… Automatic potion brewing machines, highly efficient ingredient farms, and other convenient inventions. He stayed here for some time writing books and selling potions to the locals.

It was on a bright summer day that a sealed letter arrived in the mail- addressed to “Phonecall”, which is the moniker Voicemail had used at the time. The letter was a job offer from a king in a very far away nation. The letter gave perspective to Voicemail. He had realized his quaint and stable life had grown increasingly mundane, and that he had a thirst for greater things. On that evening, his bags were packed and ready for a journey to Plagadonia.

The Rise and Fall of Plagadonia
“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!” - Percy Shelley

The tale of Plagadonia is a short and seemingly uninteresting one, though it played an integral role in the development of Voicemail’s ever growing greed. Upon his arrival in this new kingdom, he was greeted by the royal family and showered with materials to start producing potions for the royal army. He fell into place quite easily in this town. The people were kind and the culture was inviting, this place was a perfect home for those willing to return kindness with kindness.

Plagadonia was a sort of small nation that had gained independence from the much larger empire of Plagatea. The story of this nation was just beginning when voicemail arrived, though the joy would be short lived. With their newfound independence, and no allies, the homeland was subject to attacks at all angles. And to make matters worse, one stormy night the King, King Rexious, was assassinated along with his sole heir in their bedchambers. The killer was never found. The death of the royal family was a spike in the side of the nation, drove harder each day their leader was dead. Shortly after this tragedy, nearly all of the population fled to greener pastures. All but one- Voicemail von Rosthorn.

As the last remaining citizen of Plagadonia, Voicemail crowned himself king by default. For one glorious day he danced and ran along the walls, sat in the throne, and enjoyed the empty kingdom left for him alone. During the night, the light of campfires and torches dotted the horizon viewed from the highest tower in the keep.

A knock at the gates was faintly heard the next morning…

To Voicemail’s surprise, an army of 50 warriors, skilled and sharpened, stood before the grand gates of Plagadonia’s castle town. Bardonia had come to pick this ripe fruit from the fertile lands of Plagatea, and that’s exactly what they did.

I like to use headings.
Then I like to use paragraphs like this. Up to you how you do it :D