The Dark Lord Mordiceii sat, hunched over his long, stone work table. There were ancient, glowing runes etched into the flagstones beneat his feet, and more inscribed on the flat marble surface of the table itself. The language was ancient...older even than that of the Liches and the Wisps. It was the language of the magic written on the bones of the earth; so old, so powerful that it could be shaped and molded to the master's will, serving either good or evil.... but it came at a price. Mordiceii stared deep into the heart of a polished stone in his hand. The stone was about the size of a hen's egg, though much different in shape. It was angular and chrystalline. The inner facets of the stone, and there many of them, glowed a deep, throbbing red. The light sparkled and refracted along the internal cracks and faults. The stone seemed to throb with a deep and ominous power. The Dark Lord's face was a mask of deep shadows cast by the eerily flickering light. His eyes were clouded over and milky white, a sign that he was deep in the throws of exercising his power. With all of the darker and more powerful elements of Mordiceii's magic, there came a deep price. Eventually, the use of such powers would consume him entirely, but for now, he still had his driving need for vengence to compel him and protect him. Still, the price was steep. The dark wizard's face was thin, all lines and angles, and there were dark circles beneath his milky eyes. His bottom lip trembled slightly, and sweat beaded on his forehead and at his temples. The power was slowly consuming him. Still, he did not break his gaze or his focus. The stone was all that existed in the world for Mordiceii. If that waivered for even an instant, he would be consumed in a flash, his essence joining so many others trapped within this cursed fragment of stone. Mordiceii had joine a battle which he must either win, or be utterly destroyed by. He didn't know how long he'd been in this struggle. Time had ceased to carry any meaning for him any longer. The only time that mattered was now, the moment.... Everything else had faded to nothingness. He faced the empty eternity of time in both directions as only something as immortal as a stone is abel to do. The Dark Lord could feel the immense power of the stone waiting, hovering just out of his reach. Then, suddenly, there was a crack. The Dark Lord felt it more than he heard it. There was a subtle shift deep within the stone. It was small, but it was definitely there. Mordiceii lifted the stone to the dim light of a single candle on the far wall of his sanctuary. With his own eyes the light would have been too dim to make anything out at all, but with his enhanced inner vision, Mordiceii could see the stone blazing before him. And there, deep within the stone, almost hidden by the glow of its own power, was a thin and twisted strand of pure blackness. A slow, sinister smile spread across the Dark Lord's face. It was only a matter of time now. The battle was not over yet, but the war had been soundly won. The stone was beginning to bend to his will.
First Strike ~Reckoning~ Dorbraine of Yew swung his axe hard, and with a steady rhythm. Chips of wood scattered in every direction with each blow. The power of double-bit lumber axe he was using sent shivers up the elm's tall, thick trunk until the leaves at the tips of the top branches danced. He finished the wedge, and walked around to the other side of the tree. Now, the real work began. The first cut was always easiest, since it only went a little more than a third of the way into the tree. The open face of the wedge Dorbraine had chopped would direct the fall of the tree safely away from him and from the stand of firs to the left. If the elm hit the firs, it could roll unpredictably, and that could be bad. He'd seen men loose arms, legs, even heads when trunks rolled like that. A good woodsman always paid attention to the direction his wedge faced. Dorbraine paused, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and took a drink of water from a bottle in the shade. It was warm, but not hot today, and still his shirt was soaked through in front and back. Chopping wood was always hot work, but it was good work too. In any case, he had chopped worse with his axe, and he preferred wood. Dorbraine hefted his axe and swung for his first cut on the back side of the tree, and suddenly pain lanced through him. The axe clattered to the ground from his rigid arms, and his entire body seemed siezed with pain; every muscle locked hard and imobile. There was a blinding flash of searing, piercing pain that convulsed him, and Dorbraine felt something deep within the fiber of his being begin to tear. The pain overwhelmed him, and his vision began to fade. Slowly, blackness crept in on him from the edges of his perception. Just before the darkness consumed him, Dorbraine had a brief glimpse of his body, a blank and staring expression on it's suddenly pale face, as it crumpled lifelessly to the ground next to his axe. Then, the Darkness had him.
*blushes* Thanks. Comes from experience. I grew up on a farm, and my granddaddy didn't believe in doing things the easy way. We also chopped weeds by hand. And when you have a tobacco farm with 100+ acres of fields, that is a lot of chopping. lol. Anyway, I'm toying with the idea of writing a book about growing up that way.... Sorry all of this was so far out of character, but it's always a pleasure to get a compliment like that. Glad you liked it, and hope you keep reading. Dave.
Blood and Pain ~Reckoning~ Dorbraine became aware of his surroundings slowly. It was dark, he knew, but he could not see. There were dancing shadows of light and dark playing across his closed eyelids, and the smell of burning pitch... a torch, perhaps. The air was hot, and stale. Not heavy the way a summer afternoon is, but tight and cramped. There were distant rumblings and groanings of rock sliding against rock in the ever so slow creep of the earth. Every now and then, a soft tremor would shudder its way through the ground, vibrating lightly beneath his cheek. The smell of old blood stuck thick in his nose. Dorbraine's throat was so dry it cracked when he tried to swallow. His eyes fluttered open only after great effort, and everything around him was blurry and dim. There was a swift, fluid movement to his left, and Dorbraine caught the image of a shape roughly like a man, but huge and the color of old rust. The scent of blood suddenly sharpened in his nostrils, along with the stink of rot and decay. Dorbraine had to fight not to throw up, and his head became dizzy. Slowly, he realized he was bound hand and foot. He managed to lift his head enough to see the abbattoir beneath him, dark symbols etched deep into the stone and filled with fresh blood....his blood. It leaked from several small slashes on his upper arms, and across his thighs. The blood was oozing slowly, but steadily into grooves int he stone. As it filled the runes and symbols etched beneath him, it began to glow with a baleful red light of its own, drowning out the flickering torches hanging on the walls around him. Dorbraine felt the first icy fingers of terror lance their way into his chest. He struggled against bonds he could not see, but he didn't budge. Whatever spell held him, it held him fast. A dark shape loomed suddenly at the edges of his vision. THe cloaked and hooded figure was tall, if a bit gaunt, and his shoulders were broad. He looked as if he could have held a much more powerful frame. As he leaned over the abbattoir, the shadowy figure chuckled a rasping, grating chuckle. "Not yet, woodsman," The figure rasped, "You're not ready. There's a strength in you.... a surprising strength.... but you'll break yet. They always break.... break....or die...." The figure rattled another bone-chilling chuckle, then reached out a hand and the pale, dead-looking flesh of his fingers curled into a tight fist. Suddenly, pain exploded in Dorbraine's mind. IT was brief, like the flash from a bolt of lightening, but so intense that it seemed to last for hours. In that instant, Dorbraine wished he would die.... but then, the blackness took him, and there was nothing......
