Stephen Daniele Reveals The Shroud of the Avatar Underworld
Breathtaking locations like the Underworld are destined to inspire Bards to sing songs of bravery and adventure while others whisper warnings of mystery and dangers not meant for the timid.
So tell us adventurer, what story will you tell?
Post your “Tale of the Underworld” to the forums and include an excerpt in the comments. And if you happen to impress this Bard, The Lotus of Fire, your Underworld Story shall be proclaimed throughout the land as the FIRST piece of Fan Fiction featured in our upcoming Community Spotlight!
And if that wasn’t awesome enough, one of the most legendary Bards, Tracy Hickman, will also be reading through your entries! Taken from our forums, a message to you, from Tracy.
“Greetings, Fellow Bards…
I’ll be following your tales and adventures here with deep interest. As I discover the legends, lore and mysteries of this new land, your own experiences will become a part of that tapestry defining the world.
So come, gathering of bards, and let us weave the fabric of our story from our threads together.
Edvard the Just
The Dragonsbard
Here is an excerpt from the “Tale of the Underworld” that i am working on
“Wake up my son it is time to go out and fetch me some blueberries for breakfast. Or does your rump need to meet the flat end of your fathers’ broadsword again.” Flashes of quick successions of last nights beating burrowed in my skull. “Coming mother,” running out of sight and into the bushes far beyond the hills of our little cottage. “One berry two berry three berry four I hope a bear won’t eat me for taking more,” plucking the last berry revealed a path leading to the dark abyss.
Gettin’ really good mushrooms is an art in itself. It’s easy enough to find ones that’s edible stuff, and it’ relative easy to find poisin’ ones which tastes fine fore they bloat ya up til’ ya explode…but finden mushrooms what’s tasty eaten yet won’t put ya down…yessir’ee…that takes real skill.
*A rather doleful looking bardess moves to the stage, her head bowed and hidden by the cowl of her cloak. She simply stands there, awaiting silence from the crowd. When it is finally granted, then, and only then, does she begin in a clear voice heard throughout…*
Come, listen, a tale I doth share
of stalwart band with valorous goal,
who did long to slay a cave dwelling fiend
which would joy to steal adventuring souls.
Here is my excerpt “Tale of the Underworld” Story of FireLotus Flower Clan
Somewhere in the caverns live a clan of people. They are known as FireLotus Flower Clan. This village has been living in the caverns for 300 years. They go on raids to the surface to steal people for repopulating the village. They worship a FireLotus Flower due to its magical properties. They live near a river where they fish and gather water. They have a dislike of travelers who venture near their village.
I imagine some naive-but-later-willing entrepreneur selling tickets to “see the glorious sights of this newly discovered cavern!” — and then covering up any carnage that might occasionally happen. Two weeks eh? Maybe I’ll try to write it. We used to have TV commercials on here when I was a kid to come visit a “Crystal Cave” and in the back of my paranoid 10 year old mind I thought “wow, really bad idea”
What is a drinekoth?
Now that is a valid question.
Here is a little taste of my tale…
“They tread softly as they enter into a long tunnel, sounds of their footsteps echoing faintly through the silent cave. The further they went inside, the more their hearts beat. Then, in the distance they hear the trickling sounds of water.”
An excerpt –
How did I get here? Where, pray tell, is -here- anyway?
The thoughts slowly coalesced in Thom’s head as consciousness returned.
He slowly opened his eyes, hoping for an answer to these questions, but was greeted only by darkness.
Am I blind? Am I … dead?
From my second post
Town of Coolphoenix the wicked
About 300 years ago there was a knight named Coolphoenix. For twenty years this knight served his lord until one day. It was in the year of Red Wizard Kara that events unfold for Sir Coolphoenix. While walking through the woods of Khel Coolphoenix found a lady. She was dress in a red robe with red shoes. Her hood was up and she was being attacked by four goblins. Coolphoenix gives a yell and runs into the battle first killing the goblin archer that was standing behind as his three friends was fighting the lady. As the goblin head flys thru the air Coolphoenix next kills a goblin holding two daggers.
“She drowns people, doesn’t she?” Tomarch smiled. “That’s what you don’t want to tell me.”
Roxi knew she couldn’t lie to her own brother. She had certainly tried before, but he knew her too well. She was a career thief, a street urchin, a fast-talking waif, and she could lie in front of the altar at the temple and the priests would believe her, but she could never get one past Tormach.
“She opens up a keg of ale, or a cask of mead. Then she has her thugs dunk your head in it, and they hold you there. She says she’ll let anyone go who can drink their way out of drowning. No one ever has. No one can swallow booze that fast. At least, not without breathing.” Roxi explained. “Then, when her thugs are hauling the corpse away, she sends the bill for the cask to the victim’s family. Its her calling card.”
“And you’re worried about me drinking myself to death over a concussion.” Tomarch laughed. Some of the spittle got on Roxi’s tunic. The red wine stained it. Or was that blood? Yes, it was probably blood. “What did you bet on me to win that fight?”
“Everything.” Roxi replied, too fast.
“What did you bet on me to win that fight?” Tomarch asked again.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to.” Roxi replied.
An excerpt.
==============
Into the Darkness.
Darkness. I hate the dark. Every shadow conceals a lurking menace, a threat. Monsters, maniacs, and ghouls, each created in my own mind, populates every nook and cranny of the catacombs. But every shadow, every side passage, and behind every rock in this cursed death trap has to be checked, and checked again as I make my way through the labyrinth. Just because the last shadow was just a shadow, that doesn’t mean that next shadow won’t conceal some gibbering horror, just waiting for me to relax my vigilance.
As Darkblade entered the tavern, the smell of freshly cooked food mingled with the smell of fresh tobacco. He closed his eyes, raised his head and drew in a deep breath.. and tripped over a stool. As he picked himself up, he saw a very portly dwarf sitting in the corner enjoying a huge plate of mutton. If the girth of a dwarf is a sign of their wealth, this particular dwarf surely ruled half of the known world.
Forsaken Virtue of Resolve?:
The old sage slowly removed the rustic tome from the dusty shelf, “Ahhhhhh….you’re interested in the writings of Zaratos Sotaraz? Well I must say it has been some time since anyone has had an interest in moral perfection. All I ask is that you please return the tome to the shelf when you are finished. Oh and might I point out a section of particular interest. It appears that Zaratos found what may be the resting place of a shrine of great significance…..the lost shrine of Resolution!”
The Cavern
She stood on the rocky precipice looking out upon the dense rock that filled this cavern. The sound of water filled the air before her; its smell gave what little freshness there was to be had in this dank place. A humid mist permeated the air and diffused the light across the cavern.
Jumping down from her precipice, she rejoined her companions across a small wooden bridge over the sheltered river. The stalagmites and other cavernous formations spoke to the absolute timelessness of this place. To her left was a modest waterfall, an obvious inlet of moisture from the surface far above this place.
Tales of the Underworld – “Trolling about”
Original Fan Fiction for Shroud of the Avatar by Sir Aartemis d’Turton
Murklin’s fist closed tightly around the smooth moss covered stone that jutted out just far enough from the wall to wrap his fingers around. His was lying flat on his back, with his arms stretched far above his head, unable to see forward more than a few meters. The tunnel ceiling was no more than a half-arm’s length above him and the sides of the cavern twisted and turned so much he felt like a snake slithering along the damp, slippery ground. Murklin’s short build and thin frame worked to his advantage as he arched one shoulder, followed by the other, inching his way slowly towards the end of the tunnel where flecks of a soft orange-yellow light began to trickle in.
Letters from the Underworld
Fanfiction from Wsye
—
“Trust was with you. As you entered the cave, you were confident of yourself. They were right to choose you for this task. Driven away by the pitch-black darkness at first, your torch allowed you soon enough to tame the place. After several minutes of walking, a grin of disgust pierced your face ; you had just stepped on some wet but crispy bones. From the little flesh still hanging around the skeleton frame, you knew it was a woman. Scattered around her rotting corpse, you noticed five letters, perserved enough to be read.”
A couple of excerpts from my short story, “The Hunt”:
“Bleeding and only vaguely conscious, Jerome dragged himself to the base of the cliff. Jagged rocks cut into the palms of his hands and tore at his skin, yet the will to survive pushed the pain to the back of his mind. Above him he heard the deep throaty howl of a wolf. His scent had been caught. There wasn’t much time.”
AND…
“Jerome looked around at where he lay. He wasn’t just inside the entrance to the cave – he was deep within its walls. Far above, a hole to the outside let in a sliver of moonlight, and its beam was refracted off the sides of the cavern walls a thousandfold, magnifying it until everything was bathed in a shimmering warm light. The cave walls glistened like molten bronze, with stalactites hanging like golden drops of liquid metal. The gentle sound of rushing water echoed in the expanse, and a slow moving stream, formed from the union of hundreds of dripping pools of water, snaked lazily off into the distance. Stalagmites burst from the cavern floor like protective sentries, posted at every turn, guarding and protecting those who came within to see such wonders.
It was an amazing sight, and Jerome caught his breath in the presence of such sublime beauty. He stood up, determined to discover what other secrets this underworld would hold…”
A small excerpt from my short story: “The Purple Flower – A Tale of the Underworld” by Andreas Zerndl
“Greetings my young friend,
Today I’m going to tell you a story of the underworld. Not just any one story, but a story about the virtues and a little purple flower, blooming only, when the sunrays shine through the cracked walls of the underworld caverns after a clear night. Twenty years have passed now, and it was such a clear night, when the Avatar visited our village the last time, the year before you were born.
It were darker times then: We managed to stay out of the big war and lived a peaceful live, but a plague infested our village, after a travelling merchant came through on his way to the city. He died in the same night he arrived, and so did many women, men and children after him.
Our village healer was the first one, who got ill and died a week after the merchant. In our despair, we sent a group of young men to the city for help, but none of them returned. The forest, that encloses our village and seems so quiet and peaceful today, was a dangerous place then. Deserters, brigands and other men of low worth banded together during the war and were on the loose in the woods…”
Hammer of Creation
In short order he had their rope tied off on a series of spikes as he climbed up further. After a few minutes he was on the edge of the pit looking down as the elves were all well on their way up. He tied his rope off just in time to see 3 orcs coming his way. He released a lightning bolt that tore through the orcs but unfortunately hit the wall behind the orcs and came back at Kalron. When Kalron came to the elves were chuckling and his beard was smoldering.
They proceeded down the tunnel that the orcs came from only to be greeted by a clamoring group of orcs, more then they could see or count. The warriors raised their weapons, the cleric uttered a prayer and without thinking Kalron released his fireball he memorized. As he completed the spell the other mage screamed “NO!”. But before Kalron could reassure him the fireball detonated, well from the group in the midst of the orcs. Orcs flew every which way from the blast. And then there was a growling from behind the orcs, a rolling fireball. GAS! the mage yelled. Everyone hit the ground as the air was sucked into the
fireball orcs ran screaming in every direction, those who survived were on fire and the rest….oh the smell.
From my (first?) submission, The Warrior and the Flower.
“Lookit this poor sod. Probably met the same fate as the other two we saw a ways back.” The gruff adventurer kicked at the dead man’s boots.
“Wallet’s gone, too. What a waste.”
His companion, a bard with long, flowing dark hair, knelt down next to the warrior and studied his face as he brushed a stray strand behind his ear.
“Wonder what his story was,” he mused quietly.
Moths
“Hickman promised a right good bounty if we brought back some of that creeping fungus. He says he uses it in his spells.” Weaver replied.
“Hickman?” Cameron stopped walking. “That wicked old mage is behind this?”
“He’s not wicked. He’s just a little eccentric. You know all wizards are.” Weaver laughed.
“He’s sick in the head and the heart. A man ought not do half the things that man has done. He ought not trifle with magic the way he does.” Cameron growled.
“You’re biting your lip again.” Weaver smiled. “Come on, the money is good.”
“They ought to have a system for it.” Cameron grumbled. “A mage should have to wear a badge or a garment to declare how off his rocker he is.”
“Right, a magical world where wizards wear different colors to show everyone whether they’re good or evil.” Weaver laughed.
“Its not a bad idea.” Cameron replied.
Hope I’m posting this correctly. The full story can be found in a thread
https://www.shroudoftheavatar.com/?topic=the-azure-stream-underworld-short-story
Here’s a Excerpt to maybe whet the tongue. It’s been a while since I did any creative writing.
The cave started to expand into a cavern and Ark could hear a sound that was so familiar, yet so unexpected at first he couldn’t identify what it was. A dark blue light throbbed in the cave as they proceeded baffling the two of them as to what could be creating the source.
A Forgotten Secret in the Underworld
as told by Grandmaster Bard Holt Ironfell
“Perhaps you think all adventures end well, but travel with trusted friends long enough, and you witness death, and worse. That is the Underworld as I know it: death, and worse. I have been but once, and only great necessity would drive me back…”
Follow Grandmaster Bard Holt Ironfell and his most trusted friends as they escape a world where the villains have already won, in order to protect a dangerous secret. Stepping through an ancient and hidden moongate, they end up lost in a vast and foreign Underworld, only to encounter a horrifying evil of the depths.
Join the escape at http://holtironfell.blogspot.ca/2013/04/a-forgotten-secret-in-underworld.html
Or in audio – Narrated by the bard himself,
For those weary of reading, just listen!
http://soundcloud.com/pwnmusic/forgotten-secret
Set to Orchestra Tracklist:
Flight to the Compound – Alexandre Desplat
21 Days – Alexandre Desplat
Faith 0 Hans Zimmer
Somni-451 Meets Chang – Tom Tykwer
What Came Before – Lorn Balfe
The Field Trip
The spring field trip was always one of DKs favorites, the humanoid children upon turning 16 seasons would spend the summer with the warriors and farmers, the winter with everyone else learning the ways of surviving the harsh cold and then in the spring they would spend a day or 2 each week exploring the underground world and it’s many dangers as well as great beauty. DK would tell those stories of orc armies and the lesser in numbers but always dangerous dark ones, distant cousins to the elves and dwarves. He would also warn of the monsters down below, lurkers that would drop and envelop a humanoid, suffocate then devour them.
Then as they came around a corner they all slammed into DKs humanoid form as he stood there staring down a pair of shadowy figures. The 2 seemed to go in and out of the shadows cast by the balls of light DK had created
“The Kingdom once cried for a man of valor,
tales are told from local tailor”
Lord Garriot’s beliefs was true enough
trained his son with swords and shields
so strong so tough
-Father, I’am now ready for them fields!
/Rincewind
SILVERWATER [excerpt]
“I liked that tune,” Kug said lowly, “what I could make of it. You still don’t get any words you can understand, Fireangel?”
“Well, I don’t know, honestly. I am getting words, but I may be making them up myself. I’m still only hearing words from some other language.”
“Well, what are your words, if you don’t mind sharing?”
“Tell us, Lass.”
“I don’t mind. Just take it for what it is.” I laughed nervously, and cleared my throat. “Uh, let me see.”
“A song of stars, of silver stars, and one who fell below
Into the sea, and came to land, to let her daughter grow.
Beneath the sky, beneath the ground, a secret buried deep,
She left her girl of silver hair to sing there in her sleep.
Far from the stars the mother now shines up in the water,
Silver starlight dust to lead a hero to her daughter.
Oh! Long the lighted sky has shone unfurled through history,
While here beyond the shimmering stars lay secret mystery.
O hero fair! The darkness comes, the bleak and joyless Day;
The underworld is climbing up, the Virtues fade away.
O Avatar! We long have we missed your foot upon our shore
And in the dimming faith I add my voice to call you forth.
But if of you I now do sing, oh will you come to me,
Or will my voice be only like starlight upon the sea?”
“By golly, Fireangel. I think you’ve got something there,” Kug said, and looked meaningfully down into the bubbling fountain.
Wylf thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “We’ve got to find the star-daughter.”
Daedric, Nail and Tooms:
Just as Tooms had shuffled and was about to slide Nail his first card, the tavern door swung open. The three turned their heads unanimously in a curious stare.
A tall man covered in a black robe from head to toe stepped lightly into the tavern common room. From behind him, a thick fog poured in, creeping around his black leather boots and deepening the atmosphere of the tavern before the door slammed shut behind him.
The Devious Bandit Mastermind
In the abandoned city taken over by a evil bandit clan, deep inside the old rulers castle was the leader of the clan Deamon Axerunner. Deamon was a devious and greedy sort, he always dressed in his favorite black leather armor that belonged to the old rulers bodyguard.
She came across the Sinister Ones. They were true evil through and through. Known far and wide to lurk under little girl’s beds or inside boy’s closets. They were highly intelligent and ‘blessed’ with supernatural ability to see in total darkness. But they were arrogant and full of Pride. She raised Mr.Tarlo to block their baleful gaze but there really was no need for it. They never bothered to glance down.
And so she passed them.
At last she arrived at Grandma’s house.
–Excerpt from VenomHides Tales of Wonder
“Beware the hissing hooves!”
Those were her last words, escaping blood-cracked lips on a battered face. She was comely, in her way, but had a build more warrior than wench. Illuminated by the glow of fungi, her wounds told the kind of tale that scares one into foolhardy curiosity. At least it did me.
UNDERWORLD TO THE SEA – [excerpt]
Nota unclenched a hand and let it gesture toward the cavern he’d been staring up at. “We all hear the song in the water. We know the Breathers have started it up again, and that it will bring more Breathers. We don’t know that it will bring the Avatar, regardless of what anyone says. You do realize that the light in the water has dwindled greatly?”
Everyone knew that was true. In many locations, the glow had faded completely, but even here, where it was brightest, the light of it no longer illuminated the shadows of the cavern ceiling. Spiders now made webs where none had ever been before this dimming.
Nota frowned sternly. “The luminous substance, whatever it is, will cease to light our water. The evil from the underworld beneath us will come up in the darkness. We’ve already seen some of that. The lives of Oras Colony will come to an end; first by madness in the chaos, then by whatever comes to kill us in that chaos. That will be the end of our lore.”
“Isn’t it possible that there are other ways for our people to adapt and survive?” Monereth asked quietly.
“You should know better than most what lives in the lower parts.”
Mind Flayer Passage
“YOU ARE NOT ME”! The young Paladin screams! A blood curdling echo falls across the cavern. This had become his routine. Realizing what he had done, and now yelling at his own reflection in the bloodied pool of water. Striking down hard at his image with a battle worn cudgel, then scurrying like a rat back into the darkest corner of the cave, away from the iridescent pool. Rocking back and forth, eyes darting wildly, chasing shades of insanity as they washed across his mind. Snickering madly and excitedly, nibbling crumbs of human remains from under his dirty bloodstained fingernails. The sweet stench of blood fills his nostrils as he grabs a handful of entrails from his fallen brother’s corpse and stands.
Fan Fiction Excerpt
https://www.shroudoftheavatar.com/?topic=tales-of-the-underworld-sticky-dev&paged=2#post-20579
“Torches crackled and spit as the group hustled down the tight cavern passageway. Discovering the series of fresh openings into the Underworld is what gave birth to such an ingenious plan.”
With a mighty heave, Frank swung the pick toward the door.
A brilliant flash of white light blinded Markee while a clap of thunder rang through his skull. As his vision returned to normal he could smell burning wood and flesh. Frank lay sprawled on the floor, his hands blackened and bleeding still curled around a non-existent pick handle. Bits of charred wood all around the floor are burned from orange to grey. Near the door, the crumpled iron head of the pick cooled from white to orange-red.
Markee knelt beside his old friend, and looked for signs that he was still breathing. “Are you alive?” he asked in a worried voice. Frank groaned. Digging into his pack, Markee found some bandages and began carefully wrapping Frank’s mangled hands.
The Expedition (Except)
Noor sat silent and still upon a high outcropping overlooking the town of Niverale, nestled in the distant valley below. The sun had not yet pierced the horizon, and the world was still bathed in the gray miasma of early morning. A sudden late autumn breeze whistled down from the mountains above, and she pulled her woolen cloak tighter against the chill.
Her perch afforded a splendid view of the town, spread out along both sides of the narrow valley, split by the gentle river Vuryn- a river that would slow to a frozen trickle with onset of the winter snows, and swell to a raging torrent with the spring thaw. Smoke from a hundred chimneys curled upward, dissipating wistfully into the pale, predawn sky.
Tales of the Underworld: The Antechamber
Luminescent lantern-light glittered off the gypsy’s dilated pupils as he peered intently into the underground dark-water abyss, knees wedged in a kneeling position against the sides of his small handmade wooden skiff. Determined, the man methodically pulled up the slack from a rope that tailed into the deep, coiling it swiftly but carefully onto a nearby limestone outcropping.
A small string of glowing orbs materialized from the depths of the seemingly never-ending natural water well, the gypsy plucking them out of the drink one by one, water from the thick glass globe lanterns sloshing about as the lichen inside provided a soft steady aquamarine glow.
At the very end of the rope, a figure arose forth out of the watery dark.
“Every day was a feast, with new friends bought for money and a short amount of fame. But as the days returned to normal, it became apparent that Rake had become a different man. Where as before he was quick to anger, now he would start fights without provocation. When people came to him asking for help, he would scorn them and call them weak. Clearly, this was a changed man, and deeply troubled as well.
And what do you think troubled him?”, asked the old man. One of the children was quick to reply, “he had no more money.” The old man smiled as many other possible answers was shouted throughout the room. Some including that he didn’t get the princess, while others yelled back that there wasn’t any princess in the story at all. Suddenly, the girl with the round dark eyes said calmly, “he had lost something in the dark.”
The Underworld
I awoke in a cavern, and was immediately filled with terror and anxiety as the cavern walls seemed to be moving closer to me in this dimly lit crevice. “How did I get here, had I fallen, did an unknown enemy throw me down into this hard and wet rocky fold?” I know not and continue struggling to free myself frantically as if the only thing I had ever known was how to be trapped and subjected to my own demise.
My entire body had been badly beaten and I feel the numbing sensation of it all. As I look around out of sheer lucidity there are shadows of stalagmites and stalactites smearing against the pale dewy walls of the cavern above me, which I think could only mean a source of light is somewhere close by.
Armik woke up only to hear crys of kids and women. Shouting men calling for arms then the door bursts open. Standing in the doorway is a green scale creature wearing a cloth strip around its waist and carrying a curved blade. Behind the creature Armik could see the town on fire. On the ground is burned bodies and a few green creatures chasing people of the town. The creature runs to Armik and swing his blade cutting him on the chest. Armik kicks the creature in the chest and rolls out of the bed to grab his weapons. He parrys the blade of the creature and with his other sword cuts off its head.
Stray Arrows – Untold Tale of the Underworld
Fan Fiction Story:
https://www.shroudoftheavatar.com/?topic=tales-of-the-underworld-sticky-dev&paged=2#post-21969
Story Excerpt:
This day was as unremarkable in every way as any other day with the sun above, there were no barbarians at the gate, nothing dead was walking the land, and not a storm cloud in the sky or a breeze to speak of.
‘Savi!’ a little voice cried. So why was it about to change its course? How could an ordinary day, suddenly, tangent into such a divergent path?
The Rise and Fall of the Nechroneon Magi
“In the stirring inky abyss of the world beneath our own dwells an innumerable pool of writhing, teeming and devouring life. We shall name only the most pertinent species of these twisted catacombs. The Motgol, a resourceful race of rodents who before the christening, scavenged, slept among filth, and crawled through the caverns, clawing and pawing at what few others could see. It was then the Nechroneon Magi stepped in to move their hand of influence across the blank countenance of the Motgol. The Magi bestowed upon the Motgol a hastened comprehension, understanding and desire for magic and for the knowledge of the Overworld.”
https://www.shroudoftheavatar.com/?topic=tales-of-the-underworld-sticky-dev&paged=2#post-22018
“The entrance was riddled with sharp rocky formations that resembled teeth but the couple was brave and determined to find their son. After a few moments of following the old man, the cave opened up into a great cavern and they could just make out the stalactites looming high above them. The old man held the glaring onyx up above his head and it went out, and all was dark. Then slowly a light began to emanate from all around them, a dark green hue that illuminated their faces and slowly their eyes adjusted to the miraculous site, the cave itself began to glow. The cave seemed to come to life before their very eyes; water ran through the rocks around them, an underwater tributary system. The sharp smell of sulphur ravaged their nasal passages, how they didn’t notice the stench before could only be attributed to their distress.”
https://www.shroudoftheavatar.com/?topic=tales-of-the-underworld-sticky-dev&paged=2#post-22052
An excerpt from the original fan fiction for Shroud of the Avatar by the Legendary Celtic Bard, Lord Gregory, “Beauty in the Underworld”
“This village girl is feeling happy, as her new mare is galloping closer and closer to the place where her parents are when another large rumble is heard for many fields. Startled, Keira and her companions stop unbeknownst to them the ground gave away at that very instant. Falling and falling into the darkness Keira went. It seemed like they fell forever tumbling over and over and over again. Keira’s mouth tasted like dirt and dust as the darkness covered her descent. Crash! Keira landed against the bottom of the darkness. Her body hurt all over as she lay scared and the feeling of alone embraced her. The horse rustled and made a noise. Keira thought to herself, “I must see if Princess and the mare were ok.” Keira called out for her faithful companion Princess but no sound returned to her. Afraid Keira remembered in her pouch were some flint and steel with a little bit of floss. Keira quickly made a little fire and surveyed the surrounding area. Princess was not to be found. “Maybe Princess jumped away from the rumble and is still on the surface?” Keira hoped to herself. “ I must see where I am”.”
Epic Underworld
‘Mages!’ Ruprecht yelled, ‘now!’ From the secret passage emerged a posse of royal mages on horseback, robes flowing, staffs raised high as they charged to meet the daemons before they could reach the walls. The first daemon was met by a storm mage, who summoned lightning from above to strike the beast where it stood. The shock of the blast knocked the daemon prone along with the wizard, a cyclops, several men and dozen goblins. The second daemon flew with wings wide to the area where his unconscious companion fell, and with a roar incinerated everything – and everyone within a 60′ radius around the body.
https://www.shroudoftheavatar.com/?topic=tales-of-the-underworld-sticky-dev&paged=3#post-22064
“Well, this was a waste.” Olron huffed and panted. He paused for a moment to draw his breath. He was glad that he wore his green travelling suit that most mages seemed to prefer, rather than his robes. The suit consisted of a jacket, a shoulder strap that contained potions and some ingredients, pants and leather boots. However, he refused to use some of the more ‘modern’ gadgets and ‘trinkets’ as he called them. He stubbornly wore his old pointy hat and used his long traditional staff. “I am a traditionalist”, he would tell others.
“Aah, cheer up, gramps. It isn’t all bad” Kat said in her ever cheerful voice. She easily jumped from rock to rock, with her short bow in one hand, and a torch in her other. She was the youngest of Fer’s group, and like Olron’s, her clothes were dark green as well, with a few choice pieces of leather armor for added protection. She also had two daggers that she used just as nimbly as she was able to open locks.
“No? You forget, imp, that not only did we lose much of our precious supplies, some of our cargo and most importantly my pipe!” growled as he continued on.
“I don’t get why you’re still so upset about that. You can always buy a new one”
“Hrmph. I wouldn’t expect a child to understand, let alone a girl.”
“I’m not a child! You old cave troll.”
“Juvenile then, you imp.”
“You already called me that.”
An excerpt from “Truth and Justice”
I completed the chant and sent my will, happiness, and love into my brother’s sword, which then caught on flame, and erased the demons with a single strike. I sent another into his armor, which repelled a creature’s assault from behind, and sent it flying into a nearby pillar of rock. I sent one into his heavy fist, which crushed the skull of another. We were dancing, my spells and his abilities synchronized brilliantly, and he could do anything now.
The small tunnel widened into a large cavern, my torchlight playing off the various formations, creating shadows that danced all around. I had to stop to gather my bearings, a deafening wall of water roared on my left. The path continued on, paralleled by the river that flowed from the waterfalls base, both disappearing into the dark ahead. The air was thick with the smell of moss and mushrooms, painting the walls and floor with greens, blues and reds.
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I have stopped writing the date because without seeing the sun for weeks or months I have lost track.
As best I can tell I have lived bellow for 7 or 8 years now. My skin was white, like the new fallen snow but seems to be almost translucent now.
“Lord” British. I will spit and piss and dance upon your grave if I survive this. But not surviving suits me just as well. They came in your name and said I had to pay taxes on the land that has been my families for hundreds of years before you came.
Tyrant.
Forsaken Daughter
Cool air tickled her throat, the salty breeze licked through the shutters and penetrated the damp bedding. She coughed with each gust; a chesty roar followed by a spittle blood when her mouth was full. The sun blazed into her dank room every time the wind pushed its way in, her head thumped and throbbed. Her face was burning yet her legs shivered. A chesty cough forced its way out.
The shutters clanged and clashed against the wooden wall, each time they opened the heat of day burst in and cleansed the putrid air. Each time the shutters closed a shadow drew across the room; the dirt and dust danced their turbulent waltz across the floor and up the bed.
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“If you but gain only one thing out of this class I hope that it is the ability to look within yourself and see the many reflections you give out.” – English Professor
For a long time those words have been stuck in my head, as a matter of fact they were the last words he told me before he passed away last fall. I’ve been trying ever since to see within myself but so far it has been shrouded with this sadness and loss. My studies have fallen behind and my only solace has been a secluded garden.