Miles-Kirk
September 16th, 2014, 02:41 AM
The lights flickered on as I slowly moved in descent to the bottom of the dank and dreary cellar. I moved in short bursts, carefully monitoring my speed, to never quicken or exceed to reach my destination. I knew what awaited me within its depths, or so I thought.
A marvellous, godless aberration that was soulless and filled with the devils darkness resided below. I have been given the humble opportunity... Humble? What a joke! This task is acolytes work.
I finally touched the floor, the most vilest stench sifted through the air like dust motes, clinging to the air, never dissipating. My feet met the cold stone and I felt the power that was inscribed upon the brick, keeping what was held down there bound.
I brought my gaze slowly upward to meet the beast that was shackled and chained. As it writhed, thriving and seeking for freedom, its vivid features caused fear to dwell in the hearts of onlookers. A nose like twisted oak, gnarly and bark like. Lips as blue as the frozen sea, pursed in a cleft like manner. A grotesque sight to be sure.
My eyes began to focus, the birthmark on the neck, the dull blue eyes begging for mercy. My staff started to slip from my grip, my knees fell apart as if some barbarian had fractured every bone. It took all my being to regain composure and strength. I took a deep breath and held my head high. I whirled my staff chanting the rites of the old men, sparks flew and cascaded through the air, flames spat and combusted carelessly. With deep regret I thrust the head of my staff into the heart of the creature, my mother.
A marvellous, godless aberration that was soulless and filled with the devils darkness resided below. I have been given the humble opportunity... Humble? What a joke! This task is acolytes work.
I finally touched the floor, the most vilest stench sifted through the air like dust motes, clinging to the air, never dissipating. My feet met the cold stone and I felt the power that was inscribed upon the brick, keeping what was held down there bound.
I brought my gaze slowly upward to meet the beast that was shackled and chained. As it writhed, thriving and seeking for freedom, its vivid features caused fear to dwell in the hearts of onlookers. A nose like twisted oak, gnarly and bark like. Lips as blue as the frozen sea, pursed in a cleft like manner. A grotesque sight to be sure.
My eyes began to focus, the birthmark on the neck, the dull blue eyes begging for mercy. My staff started to slip from my grip, my knees fell apart as if some barbarian had fractured every bone. It took all my being to regain composure and strength. I took a deep breath and held my head high. I whirled my staff chanting the rites of the old men, sparks flew and cascaded through the air, flames spat and combusted carelessly. With deep regret I thrust the head of my staff into the heart of the creature, my mother.