Author Topic: Story of a Wanderer  (Read 23156 times)

Offline Illinther Sarantiel

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Re: Story of a Wanderer
« Reply #30 on: June 03, 2007, 07:04:03 PM »
Wind swept through the snow covered mountains, a great wasteland of nothing but cold death spread out until it came to the sea. A deep blue light shone from giant shards of crystal-like material scattered across the hills, their brightness only dimmed by the light of the moon. Wolves hunted small rabbits and deer through the snow, their howls echoing throughout the entire area.

In the middle of this vast wasteland stood a giant stone structure, four great spires of marble etched with runes, their tips tapering towards the top and coming to nearly meet each other in the center. A squadron of giants stood ready, their massive bodies clothed in quality mail and plate, their hands grasping swords made of the material of the giant crystals, what they called Velium. Standing 20 feet tall each, their faces showed the battle-worn scars of their seemingly eternal war with the Coldain dwarves.

Discussing amongst themselves their coming raid on the dwarven city, they began to hear the disconcerting sound of wolves sounding the alarm. Looking around them, they brandished their weapons in a defensive circle, sending out scouts to discover what was coming their way. Overhead, the moon began to turn a dark crimson, and the sky filled with dark clouds torn by gargantuan threads of lightning.

Considering retreat to a nearby fort, the giants began to mutter amongst themselves.

“Some dwarven treachery is this...them and their dark magics.”

“...be the dragons, only they have such power.”

A grizzled veteran, missing an eye, spoke calmly, “This is nothing, stand tall, stand proud! You are the Kromzek! This is our land, and no dwarf nor dragon will say otherwise!”

Even as he spoke, the ground cracked beneath him, and a giant fireball exploded within the spires. Dark mists began to engulf the entire valley, and the screams of dying giants filled the air. An explosion so loud the dragons in their city all the way across the continent looked with fear towards it, shards of marble flying across the blood-covered snow.

As the dust cleared, a figure began to take shape in the center of where the spires once stood. Clothed in black, a hood covered it's head, a scarf hiding all of it's face other than the eyes, eyes that burned with an unholy fire. Humanoid in shape, it's tattered robe glimmered with tiny flames.

An inhuman wail coming forth from it signaled the shadows beginning to take shape, the ghastly forms of undead creatures all around. Trolls, goblins, skeletons of massive creatures long dead, zombies, elves...nearly every race on Norrath was assembled in this massive menagerie of death. Stepping towards the bodies of the giants, it's wail came forth again.

Lightning struck all around as their fingers began to twitch, and their blood steam. Their lifeless bodies began to rise from the ground, hands clasping weapons once more. Screams of rage tried to fill their throats, but only helpless croaks came forth.

Cackling madly, the dark figure began to walk towards the city of the Coldain, his footsteps behind him sizzling into the snow. Behind him, the valley was strangely silent; all living creatures absent, the ruins of what had been the spires completely melted into the earth.
« Last Edit: June 08, 2007, 05:28:39 AM by Illinther Sarantiel »
Wildcaller Illinther Sarantiel
(aka the Kitty Blender and the InsomniaKitty)
75 Vah Shir Wildblood of 622 AA's
Member of Keepers of the Elements
Luclin Server

Offline Leboots

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Re: Story of a Wanderer
« Reply #31 on: June 08, 2007, 01:15:17 AM »
Brrrrr!!!   I cannot wait for the next installment!!
This is getting incredible!!

Offline Illinther Sarantiel

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Re: Story of a Wanderer
« Reply #32 on: August 24, 2007, 12:40:09 AM »
In the great halls of the dwarves beneath the snow, massive pillars of gleaming material support the ceiling above. All throughout, the dwarves are constantly at work; building, training, crafting. Dwarves that have been hardened to steel, their arduous life upon the frozen continent giving them a hardiness known little elsewhere in the realm of mortals. Short in stature, great in heart; they are great warriors, smiths, craftsman, and drinkers of ale. They have paid in blood for this land, many times over.

Their city hidden from the casual eye beneath a giant mountain, the entrance behind a great waterfall that forms a river flowing through the Divide. At the top of this mountain stands a lone watchmen, growing weary in the late evening, but readily awaiting any enemy that would dare threaten his home.

Looking up into the night sky, millions of bright stars shine into the darkness, broken only by the looming figure of the full moon. Nearly nodding off into the night, he calls for his replacement, only to soon be stunned by what is before him.

The moon turns crimson, and the sky fills with bright arcs of lightning stabbing into the earth. A huge explosion throws and him back and he hears the screams of anguished souls grabbing at the pit of his stomach.

“To arms! To..!,” he barely manages to shout as one of the bolts of lightning, seeming almost like a living being, strikes him down.

Startled dwarves gather together, ready to defend their home, all in a careful and practiced drill. Armed in armor made with famed skill and material, yet worn by many years of hard wear. Their weapons ready and already bloodied by generations of war. Yet, they are not ready.

Not for this.

A dark whisper fills their minds as a great host fills the horizon, a burning pyre of flame at their head. Dain Frostweaver IV, along with his royal guard, march to the front lines of defense. His massive hammer at his shoulder, he looks hard at the enemy approaching. Even he, son of kings that forged this people, is dismayed at what he sees.

The enemy numbers not in the hundreds, nor thousand. Nay, the enemy is as countless as the stars themselves, exuding a great hunger for souls.  Death itself has come for the Coldain.

Grimacing, the Dain pulls his hammer forth and stands ready to face his foe.

Upon the hill, the dark one laughs.
« Last Edit: August 24, 2007, 03:05:48 AM by Illinther Sarantiel »
Wildcaller Illinther Sarantiel
(aka the Kitty Blender and the InsomniaKitty)
75 Vah Shir Wildblood of 622 AA's
Member of Keepers of the Elements
Luclin Server

Offline Illinther Sarantiel

  • Arch Animist - 75 Beastlord
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Re: Story of a Wanderer
« Reply #33 on: August 24, 2007, 12:48:42 AM »
Illinther rages.

'I seek, I want.'

Rage building inside of him so powerful he cannot control himself.

'You.'

Cold.

'You are mine!'

Illinther roars into the night sky as fire and ice race through his blood.

'You are all mine!'

Running.

'I have one.'

Running over the ice.

'I have destroyed a second.'

Ice forming in front of him.

'I will have her.'

His face growing more grim every moment, showing his fangs.

'And you,..'

Illinther runs across the ocean, ice forming ahead of him and in a great line back to land, miles away.

'You have always been mine.'

Illinther screams again, feeling the anguish of souls near to him. Racing faster and faster, blood begins to slowly drip from an ear.

'You cannot survive this for long. You will not make it in time to save them.'

Mindless rage, cold fury. That is all he knows now. A race against time he cannot win. The world falls apart. Everything always falls apart.

'You. You are all mine. For all eternity.'
Wildcaller Illinther Sarantiel
(aka the Kitty Blender and the InsomniaKitty)
75 Vah Shir Wildblood of 622 AA's
Member of Keepers of the Elements
Luclin Server