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Haunted Halloween: Spooky Story Event!

13

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  • Username : ZanderCronje
    Entry:

    The day finally came
    The long wait, is it actually over?
    Reassuring myself with a pat on the shoulder 
    I would spend my entire weekend in this game
    So I sat there as everything loaded
    All my hopes and dreams that had been coded
    But no, it seems I have been rejected
    Wait what?   Disconnected?
    That's no problem
    What's a little longer wait for something awesome
    Anything to kill this boredom
    I never knew the feeling of forever
    Just sitting around waiting for this server
    What is this? Some form of hell?
    Is it my PC? My Account? My ADSL?
    All of a sudden
    The log in button!
    Don't let the hype get you just yet...
    All the others that came before, did you forget?
    Every hour you invested that you regret
    For after everything was loaded
    and i finally logged in
    Nothing...
    But an endless stream of Pay to win

  • ArchivedUserArchivedUser Guest
    edited October 2018
    Username: Diura 
    Entry : The Storm of Corruption

    Oh Gods why have you abandoned me! I'm falling, my Griffon I can't control! The Divine Gateway has closed! Why have you denied me access to Sanctus!


    There! I shall try to land by the Mushroom forest! Please Griffon...oh God please allow us to land safe!


    Damn! My Griffon, her neck has snapped...poor God damned creature...least I'm still alive...for now.


    I can hear it in the distance, the storm. I can feel its presence in the air and it's drawing closer.


    I need to arm myself, God knows what else has been abandoned in this forsaken land.


    Ah brilliant an abandoned chest! Some armour that fits! A sword too! I can defend myself! I've been lucky I've not came across any creatures yet!


    Ugh more thunder, I think it's getting closer. I can see the edge of the purple cloud in the distance. Where should I go?


    Been walking for some time now, there is nothing, not even a bird.


    Ahhhhh! I heard footsteps! “Hello!” Who is there?! A Human! “I thought I was all alone!” What's this!?! He's trying to kill me! Why! Oh why is he behaving so monstrously! “STOP!” Forgive me Gods! I did it! Slit his throat, that poor man, a quick death at least...Right...I must carry on.


    Gods please forgive me. I had to kill 5 more! I don't know what I'm supposed to do! Where have I to go!


    HELP GODS PLEASE! The purple clouds surround me now by just a few hundred meters! It encircles me! The volume of the thunder it runs through my body! I'm terrified! There is nowhere to go! All I see is purple!


    I'm on my knees now! I beg Gods please! Forgive me! Forgive me of all my wrong doings! The storm is just meters away! Oh Gods what's going to happe---Gahaaarrggghhhhhh..


  • User name: Ruanku

    Entry:
      I must be quick. They'll come for me soon. It was Emillia Heartcraft, the resident Necromancer. She rose this plague of unholy undead from within the town cemetery.

      Our advance mining team into Verra was too eager to allow this witch to banish our concerns of disturbing and relocating the dead for our own benefit. This is the punishment for our
    sacrilegious behavior.

      None of us saw the potential for unbridled madness inside her. Do not repeat our mistake.

      I give testament to the corrupt abominations she has summoned forth from the afterlife;
      They are warriors of old, charred and bleached skeletons; adorned with rusted metal, tattered leather blackened with mold
    and wielding weapons the like of which are unfathomable today. But the worst is our loved ones... She called them from their rest, still putrid, bloated and rotting to do her---....

    Oh God! They found my brother and his children upstairs! The screams.. The blood.. I can't... I CAN'T!...
    I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die!



      Mother Verra protect us from trespasses such as our own as we face the Devil--...



    This document was recovered inside the abandoned mining facility. Blood damage is substantial. The prayer seems hastily scribbled.
  • ArchivedUserArchivedUser Guest
    edited October 2018
    Username: Fooshyy
    Entry:  IT

    On the day of the happiest light,
    all were awake, alive and bright.
    One after One, they all would leave,
    because the time was just right.

    He knew it was to go,
    without a single doubt in mind.
    That without one foot in,
    may leave us out to dry.

    The Horizon's filled with red,
    and family fled alike.
    They knew this was not the time,
    but instead of average blight.

    He saw the world,
    without a single doubt in mind.
    Raised his sword,
    until all would lay night.

    One after One, they all would fall.
    Untill no one left alive.
    Self proclaimed victory,
    learned how to quickscope at 5.

    -Alex in the Battle Royale-


  • ArchivedUserArchivedUser Guest
    edited October 2018
    Username: Damokles
    Story: Monster 

    It began as any other normal day. My parents went out to hunt food for me and my brothers and sisters. We were seven in one litter and our parents had to search far and wide for prey to feed us all, but they managed. 
    After our parents went out to hunt was our time to shine. We went out of our cave to play out in the sunshine. We hunted butterflies and played tag all day long. 
    But... our parents didnt return after it turned dark. And they didnt arrive when the next day began. We waited for three days before we decidet to venture out and try to find them. 
    As the oldest ones it fell to me and my brother to preotect the rest of our siblings. He planed our path and i watched our backs. It was supposed to be safe. It was supposed to be peacefull. 
    But after only around 100feet all we found where scorched remains of trees and wildlife. Something burned a huge part of the mountain and the forrest. And then we heard it. Howling, and the sounds of fighting. It.... it sounded like our parents.
    So like any good pack we of course ran to them to see if we could help. We where young but we werent small. Each of us as huge as a grown, big dog of the humans.
    What we saw made our blood feeze.
    Our mother was cleaved in half. My father stood protective over her, even though it was obvious that she was dead. On the other side where.... THEY. Those crazy looking humans. Decked out in the furs and the pelt of other creatures. Decorated with gold and silver, ornaments of bone and teeth. They wore the skins of other animals and used their strength to kill others. Only to become stronger and stronger. Always trying to become better, stronger, faster, harder. 
    We fell into a bloodlust, trying to protect the last bit of our parents. Our father was already heavily wounded and we wouldnt risk loosing him to them too. Our mother was dead but we could save HIM. 
    So we attacked. And we died. My beautifull sisters where split from their head to their stomach. My younger brothers where roasted mid jump. Our father was ripped apart by skeletal hands. I looked my last remaining brother into his eyes and saw fear. But I also saw a new tomorrow for our pack. A chance of survival. As long as one lives, then he can rebuild. He can have revenge. 
    So I laughed at him and told him to run. Wounded as I was I used a bit of my remaining strength and forced him to run. I turned around and looked at the murderers of my family, my pack. We killed two out of eight. Not bad, but I thought that I could at least take two more with me. 
    It was a bloodbath....
    I can feel my blood run out of my wounds. My body is scewered with earthen spikes and arrows. They gouged out one of my eyes. I lost two of my paws. But i made them pay. I took their white clothed one with me. And i also killed the one with his big sword.
    My vision grows dim. And i can see my brother at the edge of the clearing. The last thing i do is smile at him. And then it grew dark around me. I can hear my family shout for me. I am not alone. 






    My brother is dead. I saw how they skinned him and the rest of my family. I saw how they made armour and weapons out of them. Their teath and claws where made into daggers. Their fur into cloaks. They use their heads as hoods. I am going to grow stronger. I am going to make another pack. Make it stronger. And then i am going to track them. I am going to find them. And.... I. AM. GOING. TO. KILL. THEM!
  • The Horde [no relation]

       One dark and spoopy Saturday; seven shadowed silhouettes stood silently, still as scarecrows. A gruff and muted whisper came from the man in grey. "We strike at midnight," could be heard under the howling winds. Stale stench filled the air as if rising from underneath the nearby tombstones. Guild insignia shown underneath the flickering torchlight. These weren't lazy peons.
       They waited as their massive guilds started assembling. The bold red and black of the Imperium armies, the skull and bones flag of Mutiny fluttered violently over head, even the six headed hydra could be seen upon Enveus crafted shields and armors. Xombie beckoned across the way to Emperor Freelancer. As Freelancer approached him, Xombie flipped his Legion coin impatiently. "Are we going to do this or what?" He grumbled. Freelancer beckoned to DeathsProxy. "Ready the men."
       Moments later, the ominous chanting filled the air of the neaby settlements and villages. Doom lingered in the air. Shattered bits of coin fell to the ground. The horde of corpses rose from the grave; the mass of bodies stormed the streets. Tearing villagers asunder, consuming their life force as a wave of darkness flooded Verra. Will you survive?
  • Username: Damokles
    Titel: Wolfs-may-cry
    Second Version


    I remember the day I lost my family. Their deathday. The day I lost everything. 


    It began like any other day. My parents went out to hunt for food, while i and my younger brother watched over our siblings.
    7 whelps are a big number of direwolfs to feed, which meant that our parents had often times to track the prey for a day or two until they found something big enough. We were after all as big as small ponies. Being tha alpha predators in the forrest made us lower our alertness.
    Who would hunt us? There is no animal that would try o fight us in our woods and we knew it. 
    But... our parents didnt return after the first three days. My siblings grew hungry, and me too. So I had no chance but to venture out and try to find them something to gnaw on. Luck was on my side and I was lucky enough to find a big elk. I was worried after killing and dragging it into our cave. If prey was so close to our den, then where were our parents? 
    So we set out into the forrest after we sated our hunger and searched for our parents. 
    It was easy at first. I was one of our best trackers and my brother is nearly as good as myself. The only problem was trying to control our smaller siblings. We found them after two days of tracking them. 
    I will never forget the sight. Everything was burned down. The trees. The grass. Carcasses of smaller woodland creatures littered the floor, it was so fast that they had no chance to flee. And in the middle of the artificial clearance was our father. Or rather.... his upper half. He was cleaved in two, his lower body a few feet from him. I could see the blood on his teeth, he had to have wounded whatever killed him.
    Our mother was crouched over his dead body, and on the other side of us.... them. 
    8 humans. Abominations of nature.
    They killed everyone and everything and then used the strength of their prey to protect themself. They wore clothes made of hides and the pelt of their victims. Accessories made of gold, silver and amber. Ornaments made out of bone and glittering jewels. Weapons made out of claws and teeth.
    Sapping them of the bit of energy they still had left from their original owners. Binding the souls of their prey and sucking them dry. Cruel, selfish and brutal creatures. 
    And it seemed like they wanted our parents. So we did what every other animal would do if their parents would be attacked. It was a fight 8 vs 7. They had seemingly already lost one of their comrads to our father. 
    The one made out of iron stepped in our way and scewered one of my sisters with a chain hook, pulling her to himself and forcing her to attack him. 
    I lost two of my brothers to the fiery one. Burned to ashes mid jump. My mother, enraged at seing her children die and suffer jumped at the claws wielding one. It was over too fast, for them to react. He fell on the floor without his head. 
    And then the impossible happened. The white clothed one revived his packmate. 
    I could only watch as head regrew. It was a massacre. We where killed one after another, after our intial success. Our mother was the first to fall. Weakened by her earlier combat, made her a prime target. She fell to the ground scorched and broken to the ground. 
    My siblings fell to their combined attacks. One, clawed to death by skeletal hands. Another, pierced by earthen spikes. My sisters drowned and stabbed to death. Me and my other oldest brother where the last ones standing. 
    We knew it was pointless. We would die and the humans would use us for our parts. They would eat our flesh, they would wear our skin. And then they would kill other stronger creatures to obtaine their strength. It would be an endless cycle.
    My brother looked into my eyes and forced me to run. I dont know how he did it. Or why I did it. But I ran. And I ran. I could stop after a minute, and I returned to the clearing. But I was too late. My brother was dead. But he did something which would be forever in my memories. He killed the white clothed one. No one would be able to bring him back. I watched as the abominations looted their own packmate and then skinned and processed my family. 
    I remember their smell.
    I taught my new pack their smell.
    We will find them.
    WE. WILL. FIND. THEM. 
    AND. WE. WILL. KILL. THEM!
  • ArchivedUserArchivedUser Guest
    edited October 2018
                                                 User Name: lilshaud

                                                  Entry: Family Bonds

      "Honey, I'm headed out to the store", my mom said as she grabbed her keys and rushed out the front door. 
      "Hey mom, buy me...". Before I could finish my sentence, i heard the engine of the car cut on. I then ran to the window of my room and started banging on it to get her attention. She didn't seem to notice. I figured whatever she was meaning to buy must be on sale, because it was 7:38 pm and stores close early on Sundays. With a heavy sigh, i collapsed in my bed, grabbed the remote, and begin flipping through the channels on TV. 
    "There is never anything on on Sunday's", I mumbled as I threw the remote at the foot of my bed. 
    "Welcome back to channel 3 News! Just a reminder out there to all the parents and children who is planning on going Trick or Treating this year. Around this time, the Halloween fog rolls in..." Click
    There is nothing I hate more than News. Not much ever happens in this town. The worst story reported is that over the years, more and more homeless people ended up missing from the streets. No one ever thinks much of it since we get so many drifters coming through this town, you would think this is a rest stop. 

    Ring, ring I woke up from the sound of my cell going off. I must have been really bored.
      "Hello," I answered.
      "Hey Jaz, what are you up too?" 
    Kelly! She has been my best friend and neighbor ever since kindergarten. We did everything together: walking to school, joining the same clubs, and even attended school dances as a "couple". For 17 years, we were inseparable.  
      "Absolutely nothing! I'm just laying in my bed, dying slowly," I replied, staring up at the ceiling.
      "hmm, I don't think that's funny considering your dad's death happened 5 years ago tomorrow."
    That's right. It happened so long ago i forgot the day my own father was murdered. In fact, if it wasn't for pictures, i would have forgotten how he looked as well. The police said they believed my father gave a hitchhiker a lift to town. Sometime along the way, he stabbed my dad and stole his wallet and car. They found the car, but no hitchhiker. Its been a cold case ever since. 
      "Hey, are you still there," Kelly asked.
      "Yeah, sorry. I was just daydreaming." I said shaking my head.
      "Of course you are," she laughed, "about your step-mom?"
      "What? No!" 
    I never like when she make jokes like that. My real mom died when I was a born. My dad told me it was a heart defect and that it was a miracle she lived as long as she did. I was 6 years old when he married my step-mom.
      "... Where is she anyway?" Kelly asked.
    I glanced over at my digital clock, it read 11:40 pm. 
      "What do you mean," I asked walking towards my window, "I'm sure she is back by now." 
      "Yea, but she left her car on." 
    As I looked out my window, I see Kelly heading out her front door to get a closer look.
      "Mom, you left the car own!" I shouted.
    Nothing... I ran downstairs to see if she was in the kitchen. Nothing... Not even grocery bags on the table. It was as if she never came in the house. 
      "Mom, where are....,"
    POW
    The gunshot sounded so close, I almost crap myself. Moments after hearing Kelly shriek, I ran out to her.
      "Are you OK," I asked.
    She was shaking and staring into the forest behind my house.
      "I saw a flash over there." She was pointing to the woods. Mom, I thought as I ran into my parents room to the safe where my father kelp his gun. Empty. "Of course", I muttered figuring my mom got rid of it since she never liked guns. Good thing I kept grandfather's gun, I thought,  heading upstairs to collect it and my flashlight i received in boy scouts. After that, I zipped out the door and ran towards the forest.
      "Wait! Where are you going," Kelly shouted
      "Don't worry, just go call the cops," I told her.

    It was quiet, deathly quiet. I figured must be after midnight since the fog has finally settled in. Even with my flashlight i can barely see anything.
    Crunch, Crunch All i hear is the sounds of leaves crackling under my feet. All I could think of is this feeling like a horror movie and I shouldn't have come alone. 
      "Wait, I hear something," I mumbled. 
    The closer I got, the clearer the sound became. Noticing light up ahead, i cut mine off to remain unrevealed. Someone is burying something, I thought as a cold chill shot down my spine. I pointed my gun at the figure.
      "Stop!" I shouted. "Where is my mom?" I asked the figure, while afraid of what the answer might be.
    Only when the figure looked up at me, I noticed their long hair. Then like in a movie, the clouds parted and the moonlight shined on us.
      "Mom?!" I could see her eyes pouring tears, her sundress splattered in blood, and half a mans body buried under dirt. I froze. Fear and disbelief gripped my very soul.
      "Mom, I don't.... what are you...." 
      "People like him killed your father," she cried, "I'm just doing what should've been done long ago."
      "But...how could..."
    Scream
    I whipped around and there she was, Kelly. I must've not heard her following me.
       "Oh my God.." she turned around to run, so i grabbed her hand.
      "Jaz, we have to tell the police."
      "No wait...," before i could finish she slipped out of my hand.
      "No, Kelly! WAIT!"

    POW

    She fell collapsed on the ground with blood oozing out of her head and me holding the smoking gun.
     "Here," i caught the shovel thrown at me, "start digging."
  • ArchivedUserArchivedUser Guest
    edited October 2018
    Username: FliP
    Entry: Ashes of Nightmare

    It is a rainy and foggy night. Ashes of Creation Open Beta is going live today. The day has finally come, the day you have prepared for for years...
    Snacks, Energy Drinks, Coffee, a peeing pot... everything is ready for launch.

    You watch YouTube while you are impatiently waiting for the countdown to reach 0 and the servers to open. While watching yet another ridiculus 64K Gaming Screen project by Linus Tech Tips, you hear footsteps... but you are alone at home.

    You take your headset off and listen carefully... the sounds repeat.. is someone there?

    The sounds repeat again and you notice you left the window open, which smashed against the wall repeatedly as the wind blew in, making a "walking" sound.

    You closed the door, laughed at your own stupidity as you were walking back to your PC and slipped on the wet floor due to the rain coming in. You break your pinky finger on your right hand. You think "Who cares? I'll play action combat anyway."

    Finally back at your PC, the servers are about to open... you can barely wait for it, when suddenly you hear a loud bang and the lights go out... no electricity... just great!

    But you are prepared and have a back-up power supply for your PC and Router, nothing can stop you now.

    The countdown is over, servers are open. You start the game and are about to log in when suddenly... Disconnected!

    You get a Discord notification, let's see what it is...

    "Steven @everyone Glorious Ashes Community, we are sad to announce that our main server, which contained the server files, has set on fire and is now destroyed. We did not bother to create backups as we were confident in the reliability of the server provider, so we need to start from scratch again. See you in 2025!¨"

  • ArchivedUserArchivedUser Guest
    edited October 2018
    Name: HeathR2
    ... 
    That's when he awoke.
    A sharp ringing in his ear, paired with a dull heaviness in his forehead did nothing to soothe his confusion.
    The last thing he had remembered was stepping into that shining, pulsating gate.
    "Where am I?" he thought to himself. "Is this a new world?". 
    He had heard of where these 'celestial gates' took people. "It will be a wondrous new world!", "The harbingers were from god, now is the time to leave!"
    Before, he had ignored these stories that passersby told him as they went to these celestial gates. He sometimes felt that those Tulnar bastards had the right idea. For a time, at least.
    But something dark had spread over the land, and he could feel this tangible darkness encroaching on his own little nook in the world. So he decided to follow the last of his people.
    Was he in a new world of sorts? The sky had a pink hue, but the mountains reminded him of his time in University. "My sweet Dillia.." He thought to himself, cursing his trepidation and cowardice.
    No. This is Verra. These mountains, this scenery. This is home, but... Different how? Figures are running towards him in the distance. 
    He gets up and scurries into a nearby barn, fear starting to match his already deep confusion, he hides behind a stack of crates.
    Three men enter the barn, as he peers at them through the slits of the wood. "Anything! There has to be something we can use!"
    Two of the men hold daggers and a tome while scavenging and ransacking the barn as the third is muttering and pacing about in the entrance; "The gods denied us, we are sinners, we are sinners, 
    we are not worthy, we must prove ourselves or perish with the others!" His sunken eyes flit over Rov's hidden refuge, and Rov drops down, fearing the piercing gaze.
    "What was that?!" a stranger exclaims. "Sinners.. not worthy..", "Shut up with that already!" 
    One of the men walks towards the pacing man and deftly cuts his throat, the hoarse and crude susurrations echoing in the open room "WORryy.. not woree.."
    Rov, aghast, is silent as his heart is thrumping and pounding as loud as his stonecutting.
    As the men finally leave, he steps outside. For the briefest of moments he feels a sense of reprieve. A calm washes over his body.
    Peering down at a puddle, the man's heart sinks to the very pit of his being.
    A dark, deep crimson reflects off the surface of the puddle, and he feels the encroaching darkness on his back.

    The man realizes that all was for naught, he was doomed from the beginning.
  • ArchivedUserArchivedUser Guest
    edited October 2018
    User: HeathR2
    ... 
    That's when he awoke.
    A sharp ringing in his ear, paired with a dull heaviness in his forehead did nothing to soothe his confusion.
    The last thing he had remembered was stepping into that shining, pulsating gate.
    "Where am I?" he thought to himself. "Is this a new world?". 
    He had heard of where these 'celestial gates' took people. "It will be a wondrous new world!", "The harbingers were from god, now is the time to leave!"
    Before, he had ignored these stories that passersby told him as they went to these celestial gates. He sometimes felt that those Tulnar bastards had the right idea. For a time, at least.
    But something dark had spread over the land, and he could feel this tangible darkness encroaching on his little nook in the world. So he decided to follow the last of his people.
    Was he in a new world of sorts? The sky had a pink hue, but the mountains reminded him of his time in University. "My sweet Dillia.." He thought to himself, cursing his trepidation and cowardice.
    No. This is Verra. These mountains, this scenery. This is home, but... Different? Figures were running toward him in the distance. 
    He gets up and scurries into a nearby barn, fear starting to match his already deep confusion, he hides behind a stack of crates.
    Three men enter the barn, as he peers at them through the slits of the wood. "Anything! There has to be something we can use!"
    Two of the men hold a dagger and a tome of sorts. They are scavenging and ransacking the barn as the third is muttering and pacing about in the entrance; "The gods denied us, we are sinners, we are sinners, 
    we are not worthy, we must prove ourselves or perish with the others!" His sunken eyes flit over Rov's hidden refuge, and Rov drops down, fearing the piercing gaze.
    "What was that?!" one of the strangers exclaims. "Sinners.. not worthy..", "Shut up with that already!" 
    One of the men walks towards the pacing man and deftly cuts his throat, the hoarse and crude sussurations echoing in the open room "WORryy.. not woree.."
    Rov, aghast, is silent as his heart is thrumping and pounding as loud as his stonecutting.
    As the men finally leave, he steps outside. For the briefest of moments he feels a sense of reprieve and calm wash over his body.
    Peering down at a puddle, the man's heart sinks to the very pit of his being.
    A dark, deep crimson reflects off the surface of the puddle, and he feels the darkness on his back. The cacophonous noise finally registered.
     
    The man realizes that all was for naught, he was doomed from the beginning.
  • Username: Timba
    Entry: The missing children

    Autumn comes to an end and winter is just around the corner. The first snowflakes knock gently on the windows and the fires are stoked in the fireplaces while parents tell their kids creepy Halloween stories. It rains a lot and the roads to the village are muddy and slippery. In the evening the fog comes up and you can see the distant lights of lanterns illuminate the paths gently. At this time of year only few travellers come to the villages. It's dangerous because Night Wisps guide many travellers into the moors and make them disappear.

    These are the dangers with which every child in the bogs grew up with. Night Wisps are little biting beasts, however, they can be chased away quite quickly. Also wolves and other animals  do not pose any serious danger to the inhabitants. However, there's something in the moors, something truly evil. You can't put it into words, because nobody knows exactly what's really happening – but it does happen! Children disappear and are not found again. Not even their bodies, they're just gone. The parents look for them for hours, sometimes the whole village helps with the search.  So far, unfortunately, without success.

    My father was born in one of the 13 villages in the moors. This is why I've been investigating these mysterious cases for three years now. I started when I was 22 years old. My parents were scared and we moved to the big city, although it is not safer there, but at least no children disappear.

    Maybe that is the reason why I don't have any magical talents or am especially good at archery. I am also not gifted in the handling of the sword and the professions in the cities seem rather boring to me. However, I am a survivor and hence an adventurer. You don't make much money and it's dangerous, but it's fun. One lives and experiences, that's all I need.

    That is also the reason why I was in one of these villages, which should turn out to be my worst adventure. I was in a village named Torrsch. It lies very far in the moor and is known for rare fungi with healing effects. A girl named Linda disappeared from that village. I was looking for her, just as the year before that I was looking for a little boy in an other village. In the previous year the villagers told me everything they could gather about the disappearance of the children. Every year a child disappears from a village, but never from the same village as the year before. It is only when a child has been abducted from all 13 villages that the cycle begins anew. The children go to bed and cannot be found the next day. There is a villager who claims that they are always abducted at exactly 3:10 a.m. on 31 of October. He claimed to have seen it with his own eyes. They have also noticed that the Night Wisps disappear when a child disappeared. From my point of view this is a good hint, because this behaviour is not normal for these little nasty creatures. So I caught one of the Night Wisps and locked it in a glass to observe what would happen if a child disappeared. The Night Wisp flew against the glass wall over and over again; always in a particular direction. So I decided to use the Night Wisp as a kind of compass and see where it would bring me. After a few minutes on foot, the Night Wisp stopped and floated motionless in the glass. I looked around and saw the other Night Wisps - all hovering around a stone from which a greenish light emanated. On the stone lay the little girl, she didn't move anymore. I hurried to her. She stared at me. Her eyes wide open with fear, big an dark. Her head twitches in an unnaturally slight twitch. I reached out for her and was frozen with terror. I expected to find a child and not a monster! She had the body of a big spider. Eight black, hairy legs twitched wildly around, the child´s head on the body of the spider. She looked at me with her big black eyes. Green, thick saliva dripped from the limbs onto the stone. Those black eyes and spider legs cast me under their spell. Only a loud scream teared me out the paralysis. Suddenly the spider with the child's head leaped towards me with a furious speed. I dropped the glas and ran for my life. It was only then I recognized all the spiders in the trees. They also had childrens heads on their backs.

    I raced to the village where the child disappeared. There was no trace of the spiders any more. On the next day I went back to the city´s tavern and wrote a letter to all the adventurer out there. Maybe there was someone who could defeat the spiders.

    If you are an explorer – be warned! Those spiders are the scariest thing in the bugs, however, there might be even worst monsters out there.


  • ArchivedUserArchivedUser Guest
    edited October 2018
                                                             User: MonoVoid
                                                         Entry: Truth of fantasy 

    "Hey! Rivir, wait up!" Torin yells while running to catch up to me.

    "Torin careful you could have tripped, this cobblestone is still new." My concern makes me suddenly stop.

    "Bro, I'm fine don't worry okay besides I have something crazy to tell you." Torin, almost jumping with joy puts his hands on my shoulders seeming to hold me still, preparing me maybe for what he is about to say. I keep my straight face waiting for him to speak. "The haunted dungeon, I heard every year someone goes to explore it but remains there eternally, haunting it until the next unfortunate soul lets them free." his tone of voice slowly shifting from a joyous tone to almost a deep even creepy whisper.

    "Come on now Torin again with these stories and on Halloween. How many times do I have to tell ya, you won't scare me with those." I say while pushing past him. "Besides Torin I'd rather be trick-or treating like normal kids." I throw a bag at him. Torin catches the bag and continues to walk beside me seemingly sad.

    As we walk up to the door of the first house Torin suddenly stops and drops his bag. "I'm sorry I just can't get it out of my head!" Torin shouts, abruptly dashing away, heading towards the town gate. My mouth wide with disbelief, I slowly walk in the direction he fled. I didn't need to follow his trail because I knew exactly where he was going, to Acha Mien, the dungeon said to be "haunted". In fact the only dungeon in Verra to be haunted, but who knows for what reason, that's why it's just a fantasy story.
    Mumbling to myself I look up to realize I have reached the entrance of said dungeon. "It looks scary I'll give it that.." I make my way inside, cautiously sliding my hand along the way trying not to lose my way. This place is huge how am I going to find one small person in here? Thinking to myself, I glance around the room looking for any aggressive monsters. As I keep walking I finally notice what seems to be Torin's footprints in some loose sand, at least I seem to be going the right way..

    After walking what seems like hours, I finally see a figure hunched over in the dimly lit corner. "Torin!? Torin please tell me that's you.." I slowly approach not yet sure if it truly is Torin. Once close enough, I put my hand on his shoulder trying to turn him enough to see his face. "T-Torin..?" I fall back, terrified of  what I saw, Torin without his eyes.

    "Torin can you hear me, what the hell happened to you? I wasn't far behind you, how did this happen?" crawling back towards the wall keeping my eyes on him I try to sand, I need to run. The eyeless Torin stands, after hearing me he moves in my direction, albeit slow but twitchy. After finally getting to my feet I keep backing out not knowing where the exit is but trying not to make noise, Torin keeps heading right for me. I try to stay silent and not let my fear take over, I just need to keep moving I'm sure the exit isn't far thinking of how long I was walking after entering this god awful place.

    I take a look behind me to see if I can notice any light, after looking back towards Torin I realize he isn't in front of my anymore. Petrified, I become completely still only to hear soft breathing in my ear from behind. 
  • Username: Laxive
    Entry: Transport

    It is a cold night, the sky clouded. Only creatures that can see in the dark or those with exceptional hearing would be able to spot the caravans moving through the rugged landscape.
    Inside one of the wagons lies Nydia and her little sister Felicity. The two sisters seem to be sleeping, until suddenly Felicity breaks the silence: "psst, Nydia, are you asleep?". After Felicity says it a few times Nydia slowly answers: "I was, until you just woke me up. What is it?".
    Felicity: "I can't sleep. Could you please tell me a bedtime story?". 
    Nydia: "After waking me up you want me to tell you a story?! Hah, a story it will be!"
    Nydia: " Do you know why other caravans, unlike ours because we couldn't afford it, usually hires mercenaries for protection? 
    Felicity: "Isn't it so they can protect the caravans against bandits?".
    Nydia: "Sure, there can be bandits along the way, but they are few and they are usually only interested in the goods that are being transported. They leave the people alone as long as they don't resist. However, the real reason that caravans require protection is because of the monsters that lurk in the wild. Some of those monsters have fangs and claws that are far stronger than a common sword. There are monsters with eyes that can see for miles, even in the dark, and spot any living being, any prey. Others are able to fly, you won't even see them coming until they swoop down out of the sky and grab, for example, an innocent girl like you. Even worse are the monsters breathing fire and causing destruction, monsters with bodies so grotesque that even the most seasoned warriors are reduced to a frightened form of themselves that will run away in fear. However, the worst of all are the hordes! Thousands of monsters, as far as the eye can see, all coming at you together. A force that can even destroy an entire city! Although adventurers constantly fight against all of these monsters, there are just to many of them. These lands are full of them and who knows, maybe we will encounter them. You wanted a story, here is your story. Now sleep well!" 
    *Nydia turnes around and falls asleep again*
    Shortly after, something howls in the distance. The next morning when Nydia wakes up, see sees Felicity sitting in a corner, hurled up, trying to make herself as small as possible and with big bloodshot eyes. It seems that she was unable to sleep for the rest of the night. 
  • Username: Daedelus
    Entry: The First Harbinger

    The king’s advisor, Devyn, stared at his reflection wondering if he could go through with the task of murdering his king. The gray in his beard looked more pronounced than he remembered, perhaps another sign of the toll this was all taking.

    “Pathetic,” a voice said in a low and guttural tone.  

    Devyn froze as he felt a prickling heat overcome him and the mirror shimmered as if it were a mirage. In that moment, he came face to face with a creature that bore his appearance, and it was certainly not the version of himself he’d seen mere moments before.  His doppelganger’s skin was flame-licked, sooty and charred.  Crimson, vein-like cracks riddled his face with eerie luminescence – as if the corruption was this abomination’s life-blood.   This creature of fire and shadow, known as ignis-tenebrosi in the ancient language, delighted in making Devyn uneasy with this perverse likeness.

    “Do you not wish to gain the power you deserve, Devyn?” the creature taunted.  “Do you not wish to claim your prize?”

    “Ye-yes, of course,” Devyn stammered, caught off-guard.  “I will have my prize!”

    The creature howled with laughter.  “Devyn…the great hero of Verra!”

    “Why do you mock me, demon?” Devyn said, standing up suddenly. 

    The creature just grinned at him, its gaze burning with dark magic.  “I wonder if you are worthy to have the honor of unleashing the harbingers.  We cannot afford failure… the prophecy must be fulfilled.”

    Devyn held firm.  “I am worthy,” he said.  “Let me be the one.”

    “Very well,” the creature sneered.  “Take this blade.”  Reaching out from the mirror, the ignis-tenebrosi summoned an ornamental kris in a burst of deep-red mystical flame. The blade bore scarlet runes that gleamed in a steady rhythm. Devyn took the blade and immediately felt a rush of adrenaline in his chest.

    The creature seemed pleased. “This is what you will use to serve the master’s will, mortal.  Can you feel his presence?”

    Deyvn could only nod, fascinated with the power he now possessed.  He felt invincible.

    “Go,” the creature commanded.  “Do what must be done. Herald the time of the harbingers.”

    Deyvn nodded to the creature as he left his chambers.  He made his way down the torch-lit hall, like a serpent stalking its prey, his excitement mounting with each step.  He would finally be able to show Helena that he deserved her devotion.  

    Devyn reached the king’s bedchamber; his heart was pounding so rapidly he thought it may burst through his chest.  He paused for a moment before entering the king’s inner sanctum, experiencing a tinge of uncertainty.

    “Where are the king’s guards?  Surely, he would not be left unprotected.”

    He looked down at the small blade and once again felt compelled to fulfill his destiny. The kris’ glow began to pulsate rapidly, as if goading Devyn to dismiss his paranoia and get on with it.  

    He proceeded with caution, masking his footfall so as to not wake the peacefully slumbering king.  

    “Good,” Devyn thought as he scanned the room.  “She remained with the boy as instructed.”  He circled the front of the bed, feeling almost intoxicated at the notion that his moment had arrived.

    As Devyn closed in on the king’s bedside, he heard something behind him.  He quickly turned his head and a shadow moved swiftly across the wall, caught by his peripheral vision - a boy in the torch light.  The prince.  The child hadn’t quite made it to the doorway, but he would soon approach.

    Devyn was immobilized.  “No, not now, boy!”

    In this moment of hesitation, his grip on the kris loosened.  This weaker grasp was enough for another figure to snatch the blade from him whilst pushing him aside.  Devyn was unbalanced, staggering backward as the figure that disarmed him swiftly descended upon the king.  In one fluid motion the assailant slit the king’s throat, turned towards Devyn and plunged the blade, still rife with the king’s blood, into Deyvn’s heart.  The monarch tried to cry out for assistance, but it was futile.

    Devyn felt his chest cavity crack under the force of the blow, the pain radiating throughout his body from the point of impact.  He collapsed under the weight of the fatal strike, crashing onto the stone floor.  The fall felt like it had shattered every bone in his body.  The assassin loomed over him for a brief moment before kneeling down, gripping the blade and driving it further into his heart.  The agony was immense, but Devyn could not muster anything more than a violent gasp.  His fingernails desperately scraped the cold surface beneath him.  His wound throbbed with the unrelenting pace of a soldier’s march.  

    “Pathetic,” the familiar voice softly jeered.  “I knew you would fail.”  And then the low, guttural tone gave way to something completely different.

    “TO ARMS!” she shouted. “Someone has murdered the king and his guards!”

    "Helena?" Devyn could not believe his ears.

    The woman bent down, and he could feel her hot breath on him as she whispered.  “The ignis-tenebrosi are more powerful than I’d ever hoped.  Soon all of Verra will know of their return.”

    Devyn heard the young prince’s quick steps as the boy rushed from the hallway to his father’s bedside.  He screamed in sheer horror at the sight of his father’s corpse.

    The queen looked up, her demonic features giving way to a mask of humanity.  “I have avenged your father, my son.  The traitor has been slain!”

    As Devyn struggled to cling onto his existence, he observed three distinct lights appearing in the night sky though the bedchamber window.

    "The harbingers. Gods forgive me…my devotion was my undoing."  

  • When Stevie died it gave us quite a fright, when mycom owned all the rights

    A crash grab, certain to be pay to win, all in all looked dim.

    Until.

    A bard!, A poet!. weaving songs of the sandal god.

    the burned community, recovering from their incongruity.

     rejoining together, birthed from the Ashes. Verra safe alas.

    Beating WoW and all the rest. sully old times, rarely addressed.
  • ArchivedUserArchivedUser Guest
    edited October 2018

    User: StarDino
    Entry: The Lavender tint

    I was traveling towards a cave to meet up with my party when i came across a bard with tattered  and bloodied clothes and a weird purple gooey substance dripping down his body

     "I must hurry there is little time, for its following me", confused i had to ask what he was talking about. "I will explain so you can warn others but i must hurry for the time we have is limited."

    "There were ten of us, a bard, that’s me, a paladin, a ninja, a priest, a summoner, a cartographer, a ranger, and a princess, who i admittedly had come to become close friends with, and her two guards. Our group leader Alex, that's the tank, got a job to help the princess with an emissary mission to another kingdom that was past a mountain that was known for large creatures and legendary monsters. So after asking the explorer if there was a safer way he saidhe changed his voice to that of a Goblins "well we could move through the forbidden canyon that goes through the mountain range. I myself have never been thru it, but I know that it is most likely safer than the Mountains and shorter than walking around."

    the air itself grew cold and the atmosphere grew heavy, as he spoke he was interrupted by the sound of laughter, I thought to myself that it must be some witch playing tricks on me.

    "IT'S COMING FOR ME, IT WONT LET ME ESCAPE!" Wanting to know more i calmed him down stating its it's probably nothing. "No, no your right it must just be some mischievous spirits. Ok, ok so as I was saying. We set off into the valley to be met with an old man tattered bloody and covered in this mysterious substance screaming about something, we took it as some fool who ventured along into a dangerous place as many novice adventures do and we pushed forward."

    "With no more than 10 minutes into the valley the earth shook, collapsing the walls onto the entrance, so we trapped we moved deeper, 1 hour went by and our tank started hearing this weird laugh, muffled and distorted, 2 hours later and the rogue and the ranger began seeing things, they described the apparitions as frozen, lifeless faces, 3 hours later and it was pitch black with a slight lavender taint to the sky. Then I heard it, the princess heard it, everyone heard it, one word, spoken in a voice of pure hatred and disgust, muffled like it was under a stone, the word we all heard was..."

    at that moment a dark shadow with a lavender tint covered the sky, followed by a wicked and glutenous voice echoing the words "FEAR" all the sudden the bard vanished leaving a faint cry of distress and a small cloud of dust in his place. the voice grew louder as a face started to appear deeper in the tree line "agony."

    I knew something was awry, so I started to retreat. All the sudden I felt something grabbed me, pulling me ever closer to the face, and then I heard the voice once again this time thundering out the words "I AM FREE!" unable to move and unable to breathe with the air getting colder and thicker around me cried in a faint voice asking who was there,

    the face came into full version, it was someone I knew, it was my wife my  loved one, with a dead and lifeless face, the soulless mandibles of the jaw moved announcing."I am the monument to all your Fears"


    I awoke in my silk bed drenched in sweat, next to my wife. I thought to myself  “was it a dream or something else?,” as I stood up I noticed that I was struggling to move, the sweat was not water but a purple goo.

  • User: Rrakka

    Entry: Slayer's Fate - Nightmares


    He hears a distant voice that somehow seems familiar…

    “Don’t lose yourself in…”

    And it’s gone. For a moment Snatch is perplexed but is shortly distracted and lulled into contentment as the the leaves of orange and yellow dance through the brisk air. His daughter was charging through them in delight with their dog, Thrasher, barking playfully at her heels.

    “Da’ - watch this!”

    She scoops up crimson leaves into her hands and cups them close to her lips.

    “I’m a dragon! RRRRAAAAHHHH!” she yells as she blows the leaves out from between her hands so that they spray forth like a breath of fire. Snatch chuckles.

    “Very scary…” he says while petting Thrasher gently on the head.

    “You’re not scared - you liar. A bet you wouldn’t even be scared of a real dragon,” she said proudly. “What are you scared of, Da’?”

    Snatch pondered on this simple question for awhile. A dragon would be fearsome and overwhelming… but was it the dragon that would be scary or the thought of what a dragon could do?

    “What scares your Da’ the most is any possibility of you or Nilak being harmed… that’s why I have to make sure I protect and care for you both.”

    “What about Thrasher?” The loyal dog’s ears perked up when he heard his name and he looked up at the Orc child expectantly.

    “I’ll make sure he’s safe too,” Snatch assured her.

    Snatch and his daughter were coming up to their dwelling but something was amiss. The door was ajar and slashed - ominously swinging on a single, unbroken hinge. Something about this seemed familiar.

    “Da’?”

    “Shhh...Move. To the old log,” Snatch said as he quickly rushed his daughter along.

    “Stay hidden here with Thrasher, understand? Not a peep. I have to go inside and find your Ma.”

    “...Okay” she said grimly while hugging Thrasher’s neck.

    Snatch pulled out his daggers and approached the door. He was cautious but also anxious and worked quickly through the entrance hall into the main room around the corner. Snatch could smell blood and fear and dread raced through every muscle of his body. The room was trashed with chairs, plates, and baskets broken strewn about and spattered with blood. Puddles of blood which had no carpet or stray cloth to sink into were still slowly rolling across the wood floors. There was no body.

    “Nilak!” Snatch yelled. Panic began to rush his mind as he then heard Thrasher barking outside.

    And a scream.


    “Da'... Help!”


    Snatch whirled around but the blood seemed to animate and latch on to him - pulling him back. He grasped frantically at the walls to pull himself away. The sound of Thrasher’s barking had been replaced by high pitched whine and yelp… 

    and then... silence. 

    Snatch could only hear himself sobbing. This had happened before. It was in the past - why is he reliving it?

    Snatch closed his eyes. He already knew the end of this nightmare. When he opened them again the grasping blood was now phantasmal chains. In front of him - Ezmer was hoisted up on spikes of shadow. Her body hopelessly torn and truly lifeless. He recalled this was the night they met. For some reason though - unlike before - Ezmer wasn’t waking up this time. Snatch felt like he was choking.


    “Hey there… come back to me... You have to get through this!”

    Snatch opens his eyes again and this time he can see and remember the truth. They had just entered the Dreamscape and Ezmer had tried to warn him his conscious may fade into a dream… or a nightmare. The scene around him still seemed surreal. A gray and dull road with all manner of broken objects floating about. His eyes fixed themselves on the human mage so he could focus on something that felt real.

    “Glad to have you back… seems like whatever you saw really kicked you in the gut.”

    Ezmer tried to lighten the mood with her usual jabbery but she couldn’t hide sincere concern for Snatch’s mental state. “You okay?”

    “Yeah. I think so…”

    Ezmer sighed. She looks down the seemingly endless road.

    “Don’t worry, I briefly lost it for a second too. Even though I’ve been here before, it’s easy to become Lost.”

    “Maybe I’m still Lost. You’re not this nice,” Snatch said while tapping a floating wooden toy boat, causing it to spin. The toy was cracked and a strange ethereal substance clung to it.

    “...It just seemed… I’ve never seen you scared before. That’s all. If you’re back to normal I’ll go back to normal too.”

    “Let’s just finish up here and get the hell out… what in Verra is this stuff? You know where we are here?” Snatch said trying to focus on the task at hand. He didn’t know how much time had already passed.

    “I call this the Broken Road. I.. don’t know what it used to be. That stuff you see clinging to everything… that’s Corruption in the Dreamscape. Noc always told me this place was beautiful. That the Dreamscape contained all the wonderful ideas and memories and hopes of the world. It was the God of Creation’s paradise. An indescribable Dream. But somehow the Calamity even permeated this place. The Corruption is everywhere here. It feeds on the negative thoughts, hatred, and fears of the world. That’s why you saw what you did. This place will try to evoke negative emotions from within you. Especially fear. Are you ready?”

    “Yeah… At least you got nothing to worry about. You can’t die.”

    Ezmer’s face darkened..

    “I experienced a few years worth of nightmares my first time here… because my body can’t die I could become Lost in the Dreamscape forever - as long as my phylactery is never destroyed.”

    Snatch realized he said something careless.

    “Well, lucky for you - I’m the Snatch who breaks in and breaks out wherever he pleases. Not gonna let some Dreamscape ruin that.”

    Ezmer smiled. “That’s the spirit - Let’s get going.”

    ----------- End -----------


    If anyone if interested this story is a continuation of a story I wrote last year around halloween.
    https://forums.ashesofcreation.com/discussion/36682/slayers-fate-snatch#latest

  • ArchivedUserArchivedUser Guest
    edited October 2018
    Username: PocketNord

    Entry:    

    As a child, my friends and I would oft’ wander from our lessons in search of adventures among the ruins to the south - great stone circles, jutting out of the earth like archways built for gods. I fondly recall many an afternoon spent pondering their meaning, imagining their construction by peoples long forgotten.More pressing, it seemed, were the affairs of my family’s estate. Even youthful inquiries of purely scholarly intent regarding our most ancient origins had always been met with swift disdain, for my father had relentlessly reminded me that of less import was our past, than was the future of our house’s name. And so, in the face of mountains of correspondence and domestic responsibilities, I promptly ceased my boyish pursuits down the hills to those great ancient Gates - for boys grow quickly into men, and soon those men yield boys of their own, and then must dutifully retire such trivial pursuits as imagination. Those such pursuits, my aging body happily bequeathed to my sons.

    After all, the spring thaw had flooded the crypts beneath the manor, and so insurmountable appeared the task of clearing the muck and ooze that even I set aside my finery and labored to assist the commoners. I do not recall the name of the servant whose shout called me to that long-forgotten nameless antechamber, but the chamber itself haunts my nightmares, to this day. It was decrepit - more mud and caved-in earth, than stone. Roots hung from ceilings like coarse and wiry drapes, and slowed my explorations by more than a quarter hour. Those tunnels seemed endlessly labyrinthine, though the cartographer that would later record them for posterity assured me that I wandered through merely a few rooms before discovering the tomb.

    The sarcophagus itself was humble, a wooden box whose extensive yet harried carvings were suggestive of a hasty funeral. The funerary offerings, however, suggested that the man had been well loved. The riches appeared immediately foreign, many adorned with a language I could neither read, nor pronounce. There was a single symbol, scrawled at the end of a fine looking journal of sorts, that caught my eye and held it. Three concentric arches, and a radiant stone at their center.

    The tome was the only item I would not leave buried, as it called to mind my questions of so long ago. It took the scribes nearly two winters to fully decipher it’s text, and it is this journal’s final three entries pertaining to a reoccurring dream, a stolen lifetime, and some unspeakably malevolent demon that I feel compelled to inscribe in the common tongue. If not for myself, then for the sake of my children, whom I have since forbade from journeying to the ancient Gates.


    In a dream my ancestor wandered alone, an outsider amidst bustling crowds. He recognized only a select few, but could sense that each of them intimately recognized him. Yet none would speak. All looked only on in a dreadfully mournful silence, as if he were naked and ugly before them, and only he were unaware. In the cold detachment of their gazes, he perceived an intimate knowledge of all the secrets he suddenly felt he’d so poorly buried. Familiarity, inturn, bred only shame, but still he endeavored to smile. None would smile back. He retreated, and wandered aimlessly till he awoke.

    The next night, the dream began the same, but my ancestor ventured further. He was desperate for recognition, for acceptance, for forgiveness. He begged in doorways, and stared through windows. None would speak a word. The lordling he was had nevertheless been cast the exile.

    On the third night, my ancestor foolishly sought to chase some semblance of redemption. He pushed past the crowds, the doorways, the windows. Soon, he found himself alone in a cold alley. It was dark, nearly too dark to see, yet he perceived a maiden’s inviting smile. Parched for compassion and warmth, he smiled back, but then realized that the maiden smiled not with him, but at him. The maiden ventured deeper into darkness and, foolishly, my ancestor pursued.

    She led him to a frozen theatre, before she vanished. The performers each stood perfectly statuesque. The petrified audience stared in silence and my ancestor thought them all to surely be dead. Somewhere a withering stranger laughed, and my ancestor sat with him. He surveyed the room and, in the corner, found something.

    A fetal corpse, the size of a toddler, it’s cranium collapsed as if it had been dashed against the rocks. It was motionless as the “dead.” Its hands cradled a rusting dagger. He’d pointed to it, and spoken to the stranger:

    “Look,” he’d said, “The Hanging One got them.”

    The man beside him had laughed, and casually spoken the truth. “Lad, we all have Hanging Ones, in the end!”

    He then looked back upon that wretched corpse, unmoving, unbreathing, unwatching. He suddenly understood. He’d find no redemption, no forgiveness. The theatre’s “dead” were not dead. he was.

    He knew he was in hell, and that his Hanging One had sent him there.


    A rational mind could be tempted to dismiss these words as fevered fancy, if not for a final detail. The record of the third night’s dream, the scribes swore to me, was dated Sixty-and-Three years after the record of the second.

    My ancestor had dreamed this dream in a child’s cot, and awoken in his death-bed. A lifetime, stolen; taken by the so-called Hanging One. As he lay dying, my ancestor wrote of a great exodus, and described seeing those gates fall to the earth. Are they connected? Is this Hanging One what my ancestors fled? These conjectures I deem too dangerous for even myself, let alone my two young sons, whom I now tuck in with care and worry each and every night. For my rekindled imagination shall forever beg the question: will my sons find Hanging Ones, as well?

    (990 words)

  • ArchivedUserArchivedUser Guest
    edited October 2018

    User : Artheeria

    Entry:

    There wasn’t anything like getting to go out on a hunt. Just the two of them. Nedistri treasured the sun shine, the breeze, the play of golden light through green leaves and alighting on a leaf covered forest floor.

    It was home. Familiar and comforting. Having her brother Ticon with her just made it feel all the more like this was the place she belonged. Hunting was one of the things they’d done when they were younger. When their world was smaller, limited to just their patch of the woods and the elegant, tiered house they lived in. Quaint, by civilized standards, but it was all Nedistri had ever known or cared to know.

    Now that they were older, Nedistri and Ticon always pushed beyond what they knew. Where they’d been before. Emboldened by the presence of one another and confident that together, they could take on the world. Up until that point, they’d not come upon anything they couldn’t tackle. Even bears they’d been able to scare off.

    It was Ticon that called for the halt though, nearly tripping up his sister as she darted around a tree and almost into him. “Something through the trees, I swear. Just over there.”

    She’d never admit his eyes were better than hers, but he was the one with the family bow. With a vague gesture, Nedistri let him take the lead. Probably another mama bear and her cub, dozing. Or one of the giant glow-shrooms they’d found a patch of the other day. Certainly something worth stopping for, but not... not worth being so tense over.

    Nedistri heard it before she saw it, was pulled down by Ticon before even that. Both py’rai elves were dressed to blend in with the forest around them, green and brown armor as dappled as the forest floor, so it would’ve taken sharp eyes to find them. If they were even looking.

    Through the thicket of trees were black, glinting shapes moving. Too many legs attached to a thorax, but atop it, twisted and wrong, was a human torso. Too many eyes were shoved on a gray skinned face with a mouth split wide with mandibles. A monster of human and spider mix. She didn’t know where to start.

    There were three of them being attended by smaller, oily furred creatures chittering in quiet gibberish. She had no idea what they were saying, or where they’d come from. “We should report back...” This was the sort of thing others, fighters, mages...  dealt with. Not two young hunters in the woods.

    Ticon seemed enthralled though. Too disgusted and fascinated to want to leave. “We can handle this. They’re just spiders,” he answered back.

    She shoved him, scowling. “No. We go.” Outnumbered and out-legged, Nedistri wasn’t about to risk a confrontation.

    Ticon fired before she could protest. He was always so quick with the bow. Accurate to the point. Hitting one of the spider-hybrids right in the face, splitting one of the red, crystalline eyes. The screech that poured from the mandible mouth was more horrifying than the creature itself.

    Nedistri gritted her teeth, drew her slender longsword, and took up a defensive position slightly in front of her brother. Leave it to him to put her in a situation she’d not wanted in the first place. Just like with the bears.

    A second shot was let lose quickly after the first, flying past and hitting the second spider-creature who had turned in their direction. The oil monsters were on their way though, directed with clawed points from the spiders.

    The third spider ascended into the trees. “Up!” Nedistri warned as she engaged the small black creatures. They didn’t appear to have faces or eyes, just round, furred heads that opened to jagged, teeth filled mouths.

    Nedistri was quick. Moving and slicing. She didn’t know what the little beasts might be weak to, where a soft spot might be, but swiping off their little heads seemed to do the trick.

    Though her fight was brutal, and quick, she was feeling good about it. Her foes dispatched, two spiders already out of the fight. Maybe he was right. Ticon... Nedistri returned to her brother’s vantage, where he’d been firing from before, but he wasn’t there.

    He must’ve moved to get a better shot. Quiet and quick as she could, she scouted around the small area the fight had taken place. Looking for him, any sign of him. Where he might’ve gone. What might’ve... happened. She hadn’t heard anything. No cry for help, no struggle... just her own fight, which hadn’t even been long. Hadn’t taken any time at all.

    Nedistri searched for him until the sun started to set. Called out his name, no longer caring if she pulled other monsters to her. She’d slay them all if it meant she knew where he’d gone. What had happened.

    She continued to search, and decided she would not give up, until she found him. Even if it meant killing every monster that had invaded their forest.


  • User: WardenFall
    Entry:

    “Greetings Traveler, let me tell you a tale.” Said a man in a yellow robe, his skin pale. He sat on a stump twisted and gnarled. At a crossroads between three nodes he simply smiled.

    The Vaelune merchant, cautious stood silent and still. Her mule whimpered in the evening chill. “For coin of course, I need to eat.” The merchant was relieved. She took a seat. Hand in pocket she clutched a pact coin. She was confident she could fight off any threats that might join.

    “East of here in a grand city, built on trade and lies…” the story weaver pulled his hat down as if to cover his dark eyes. “The miners delved too deep, and awoke an ancient bane of people. A massive white spider of unquestionable cunning and evil. An unwavering servant of death.” The merchant took a shuddered breath.

    “The forest grew impassible with black webs and the stench of the dying. A call was sent out. Many ventured forth to slay the creature or die trying. ” A burst of wind stirred the grass but the man’s clothes remained unmoved. “The creature was clever and laid out traps. All but six fell before meeting their foe.”

    The merchant shuttered and noticed that she felt rather alone. The crickets and birds whose voices had accompanied her so far had all gone. She wondered if he had anything she’d like to take for her own.

     The man cleared his throat with a sound like metal on glass, “They cornered the creature and fought, in a clearing filled with mist and the scent of rot. The clash of sword against flesh. The fizzle of magic against web. The smell of smoldering ash. Both sides were heavily injured, the hero’s hope was only a thread. Without a word the creature vanished.”

    ”A mage in yellow teleported after it blindly, foolishly chasing his deadly quarry. He ran between webbed willows and leapt over a bubbling  stream. Pausing only briefly when he heard his friends scream. He turned to go back. Then stopped for the world was silent. Not even a bird chirped or insect sang, and then a twig snapped breaking the quiet.”

    The man seemed to savor the story. He continued with a hissed breath. “The mage spun once more, ready to strike. His face contorted in worry. Before him was an orc he thought he knew. ‘Greetings Traveler, let me tell you a Tale.’ Said an orc in armor, his skin pale”, The merchants eyes glazed over. Venomous fangs retracted from her arm, and from her limp grasp fell her cleaver. A hulking spider moved its front legs in circles, part of a dark ritual. It said, perhaps to the mule, “The mage enthralled by the story weaver, did not see his end coming. From his corpse the spider wove a new suit, in which it looked quite stunning.” The merchants body rose into the air. With a flash of light and ozone, two coins fell to the ground. One stayed where it was and still lies there.

    A merchant and her mule walked the empty trail, her eyes dark and her skin pale.

     

  • Username: Kalenthrek
    Entry:

    "I think we're gonna take one more question. Thanks for being here with us tonight." Steven looks at his phone for discord "Were going to grab a question off.. twitch or discord?"
    Jeff says "Whatever's closer. Discords fine." Jeff knowing all along Steven would of course choose Discord.
        "We are gonna grab from a guy I've been seeing active in discord for a while. Decade Man. The question reads. Hey Steven.. with an exclamation point. Maybe I should say it more forcefully." Steven says.
       Jeff laughing out "Sure".
    "Hey Steven!" Steven yells. Blasting out the eardrums of many a poor lad and lady. Unbeknownst to him. Although the spike was harsh, there were only survivors.
           Steven begins, "It's Decade Man. Im not a big fan of much. Mostly my mongooses and my mother.. but Ashes of Creation has piqued my curiosity. I am a bit of a renaissance man which has led me to admire your ships. What will the ships be like? Will water traversal be affected by nature? What are the classes associated with ship crews?"
       "Wow Steven. That was a weird one.." Jeff said as he thought of how to implement mongoose into Alpha 2. "I know right?" Steven exhaled. He remained stunned for a second as the viewers waited in anticipation for the answer.
    At that moment, Steven looked to his right with a look of: 'Should I be talking about this shiz right now'. And Jeff replied with a simple head nod from side to side. As if he was saying.. 'no'. With a simple head nod of his own, Steven began to surmise the answer to the question.
           "First of all, Decade Man. I hope that you and your mother and pets are doing well and we really appreciate your thirst for game knowledge here at Intrepid. We at Intrepid like to think of ourselves as a family. Thats why we work hard to make games for fans like you. We are gamers ourselves who come from avid communities of gamers and really understand what it is and takes to make games." Steven said as he dove in to answer the question.
               "We are happy you like our new ship system. We are currently working on our new ship system. It's great that we could add something like this. This will create a big part of our game world and deeply influence how node gameplay will work."
         "I'm sure that everyone has seen online that there will be coastal nodes. These nodes will have a direct influence on our ship system. Although ship travel will be limited to water.." Steven retorted. A minor laugh from Jeff and the people watching behind the camera who nobody ever knew were there...
        "If you know our caravan system, then you will know that a player or crew member or ai can steer the caravan. Much like that, the players will be able to steer the ships. This also means that crew members will be able to steer the ships. But I don't know... Maybe the ai will steer the ship if they are the right kind of NPC? Certainly players friends will be able to steer the ship, but I don't know if their NPC's can steer the ship. The NPC might even be a sea captain. Sea captain..NPC...Sea...C."
         Jeff laughs
         "The ships will be able to be run by players. How many players? We don't yet know" As Steven looked at Jeff. Jeff nodding his head from side to side. As if he was saying.. 'no'. Steven clearly receiving the signal, proceeded.
         "Yup, no not too much information yet but we can tell you, we are working on it. And honestly guys, it looks beautiful. The water quality and the way the ships look and the certain classes..."
       "Woah!" Jeff interrupted and he was clearly nodding his head from side to side. As if he was saying 'no'.
      Steven continuing, "Either way, this has been a great stream for us tonight. I think we have a lot of support from our twitch and discord viewers... Um Jeff. How much time do we have left?"
    "1 minute", Jeff replied.
    "Well I think we're just gonna end it early tonight." Steven said
    "Thank you all again from Intrepid Studios and goodnight."
    And the answer was never found..
        The end. Muhahaha

    Happy Hallows Eve!
  • Death has no face (Rusty Axe Slayer)
    The sound was thick as fog and the blood was even thicker, almost like honey but the taste was that of copper. My eyelids fastened, in the dark, I sit up drowning in my sweat... I had dreamt of my demise by a rusty axe to my spine.
    I dreamt this dream so many times that it petrified me and had become routine. "A fiend... A headless humanoid." I said aloud, then suddenly the smell of decay followed by a headless figure emerging from the ceiling. I wanted to scream by my lips wouldn't part nor would my body budge... >maybecontinued<


  • User: ViktorBelmont
    Discord:  [PT] ViktorBelmont#4339

    Entry:
    The Mysterious Island

    It was a dark, but calm night with a full moon shining down on the water below.  Quietly loading a small boat was a short man in a full cloak and hood.  While his face could not be seen, the rather impressive long gray beard gave away the fact that he was a dwarf.  A moment later, and the boat was loaded, and the hearty dwarf pushed off the shore.

    He began rowing as quietly as he could, directing the boat directly away from the shore.  The reason for his stealthy sojourn across the water was unclear, as there were no other creatures about.  No man, beast, or bird made any noise in the area surrounding this large body of water.  Perhaps the pervading silence prompted his decision, as if it would be disagreeable to break such quiet stillness.  For a long time, several hours by his reckoning, he quietly rowed across the still surface of the water.  The water was like looking into a mirror, no waves, no current, even his own rowing barely managed to disturb its placid slumber.  This was good he thought, as with where he was going, he expected it to be anything but tranquil.

    An old legend has circulated for a very long time amongst those that tell tales and weave songs.  Michael had been a bard for longer than most, and he knew many epic ballads, tales of daring do, or even the sad song of a lonely rider.  The most interesting tale he knew though, he had not repeated or passed along to any other in ages.  The tale of a secret island upon a mammoth lake, home to the storm giants and their king.  It was said that this mythical place was the most wondrous visage in all of Verra, with treasures beyond imagining. 

    He had been working on piecing the truth of the legend for as long as he could remember, it was ever his quest to be the first to find this place.  He finally found the clues he needed when he spoke with a historian at a tavern called The Mighty Beard.  A simple man in robes and sandals was a scholar of the lore of Verra, including from the ancient times before the corruption had exiled the great races.  The historian surprisingly knew of the storm giants as well, and eagerly divulged all the lore regarding them he could, eventually expounding upon many subjects of Verra, despite it not being asked.  Seemed that when this lore keeper got excited about Verra, he just couldn’t stop talking.

    Michael was beginning to wonder how long it would take to row to the island, when suddenly the lake was no longer calm.  A great storm had rose up and swallowed him in, the waves chopping harshly, threatening to capsize his small craft.  The brilliant moonlight was suddenly nowhere to be found, and darkness set in immediately.  This was not an issue for his dwarven eyes though, and he could see through the thick rain that large craggy peaks had appeared before him out of the water, as if they had been invisible but a moment before.  He had arrived!

    Luck was truly with him, as the boat made it through the storm and landed softly on a surprisingly calm beach.  It was like having passed through the wall of a hurricane to the calm eye in the center of the storm.  In the distance he could see a great castle, this was surely the home of the storm giant king.  Quickly and quietly he made his way to the castle and up the walls and had a look in the massive courtyard below.  The courtyard was full of giants, laughing, drinking, and having a great feast.  Roasting on a spit was a monstrous boar, easily the size of a shipping caravan.  While this was impressive, more so was the sight of a throne of truly epic proportions, and the king that sat upon it.  The sight of this mountain of a man, and the treasures that surrounded him was the kind of sight that happened once in a lifetime.  A sight that would strike a man dumb.  Oh, and how it had.

    Michael had not noticed the gleaming yellow eyes watching him from a nearby parapet.  When the beast shrieked and swooped at him grabbing him in massive claws he was fully aware of the situation he was in.  The wyvern dropped him neatly in the lap of the king, who was clearly hungry from the rumble in his stomach, and the look he was giving the roasting boar.  In his surprise he flicked the newly deposited dwarf off him like removing a bug.  This sent Michael flying into the roasting boar and falling through the giant bonfire.  Trapped in a fiery tomb with freshly cooking pig juices falling upon him, Michael began to panic.  Strangely, it didn’t hurt though, and the juice smelled great, like fresh bacon.

    With a start Michael Bacon awoke at his desk to the smell of morning bacon cooking.  He had fallen asleep at his desk after a long night of rendering environments.  Looking at his screen he saw that the email he had prepared for Steven to ask for the “creation” of Bacon Island was still there unsent.  In reality he had already made his island paradise of bacon and storm giants, just needed that official ok before the boss unofficially found it in game.  It was a great island, and he had worked hard, surely Steven would ok this.

    Steven sat reading his email and laughed to himself about the very idea of a Bacon Island with storm giant parties.  Verra was no place for such silliness.  He promptly let Bacon know that the island was out of the question, and baby bear backpacks too!  Hell, even the tulnar weren’t a real race.  They were just a distraction to deflect the community from obsessing over nodes part three.

    Oh, what a nightmare!  Bacon sighed to himself and logged onto discord for comfort from the community.  Then he remembered, this was just a forum story post.  Steven would never crush our dreams like that.  Just a story post …right?

     

     

     

     



  • ArchivedUserArchivedUser Guest
    edited October 2018
    Username: Keaton
    Entry: The treacherous tale of the Enfeebled Elf (should be read with photos).

    Our story begins in the forests of Verra,
    In a time and place that's unsure of era.

    Our heroine is swift, her ears like a pike,
    She listens for orcs and for human's alike.

    Her gaze is calm as she scours the ground,
    Danger surely exists but is yet to be found.


    In the distance far off shes eyes down her threat,
    The trees no longer hold just silhouette.


    Like a Flanggler she flails, her arm has been hit,
    The shadow it seems has the skill to outwit.


    The arm was a loss if the arrow endured,
    Her strength and devotion has seen her cured.


    Complaint turns concern as she comes to her senses,
    The threat is still living, the forest condenses.


    Disengaging away, her injury lingers,
    Excruciating arm, frightened cold fingers.


    With the last of her energy she checks her quiver,
    And a rain of arrows are freshly delivered.


    With one final mark, she takes out her game,
    And cleans up her bow with the ashes that remain.

  • User: Pacha

    Entry: Our Last Night

    My name is Nikolai Haroldt and this... is my dying testimony.

    Today was the worst of them all, I remember the screams and the terror of my Kaelar brothers and sisters as they rushed towards the divine gates to escape from the corruption, but I would never have imagined I would’ve live to hear something worse… the screams of my wife and child as the twisted and deformed creatures within the corruption, consumed by rage and hatred attempted to break through our house’s walls and windows to slaughter them…
    It was morning, no one in our small village slept as everyone prepared to leave, waiting for the city guard to give the evacuation signal. The divine gate in the city had been active for a while and we all expected today would be the day where the gods would assist us, providing us with a passage into a world that would be safe, safe from the corruption that had been taking of the lands and animals within them. But something strange happened, usually the guards were stoic and organized men, today they weren’t. They panicked and ran towards the village, yelling for people to leave their houses immediately and run for the city. I obeyed their orders and gathered my wife, Xoila, and our only child, Wilhelm to grab their things and leave for the village, but we didn’t have time. As I looked through our kitchen window and saw the first family, the Aubients, leave their house and run towards the guards, creatures… probably harmless animals in the past but not anymore, rushed towards them from nowhere and murdered them, no… butchered them. Before the guards could come and help the Aubients, the creatures clawed at them, I… I can’t even describe how horrifying it is, it doesn’t matter anyway.

    I grabbed my sword and stepped out of the house with my family close behind me. It was total chaos as everyone ran around, screaming for help, the guards trying to fight the abominations. I couldn’t guarantee my family’s safety out, we had to go back inside and wait, I back away and pushed my family back into the house and led them to the dining room. In the chaos, the creatures’ numbers kept on increasing, the guards reinforcements came and tried to slay them but they were only slowing them down.

    Our world used to be beautiful, our people has to remember this. Magic was everywhere you looked… in the runnings waters of the rivers, in the sky as you looked up, there were school of magic where young men and women studied to become mages -- people who harnessed the powers of the gods, of Verra, to create beautiful and powerful things. It’s like… magic, the gods… our world, has turned against us.

    The screams of men and screeches of the beasts did not stop, they became worse… My wife was crying but Wilhelm didn’t, I think he was simply confused. The window exploded as creatures tried to make their way in, I managed to kill the first one with my sword to block the window with the body but it wasn’t of much use as we heard the clawing and banging on the walls. I was standing by the window, trying to push the monsters away, as I heard the wooden wall being torn apart, the creatures rushing to my family and taking my wife and child with them into the corruption. In a moment, I lost everything… I tried to get them but the beasts were too strong, I didn’t have the strength of time to save them and I’ll never forgive myself... As I fought the corruption, soldiers entered the house and grabbed me to take me to safety, there’s not much I could do other than scream my wife’s name as I was being dragged away.
    As they dragged me outside, I saw the soldiers finally managing to push the corrupted creatures back, enough to give us time to leave the town. As we walked towards the city, the captain of the guard told me I was now a soldier of the empire and it was my duty to protect those who would go through the divine gate, to safety. I don’t know why he chose me, probably because I had lost everything and had nothing to live for… it was suicide to stay behind, after all, so why not those who have nothing to lose? In any case, he gave me rudimentary leather armor and a shield to go with my sword as we walked.

    When we arrived at the city, there was already an unending line of people walking through the divine gate and the captain told me I was to be stationed at the city gates to fight off the creatures. But as I took my post and looked around, I came to the realization that I did have something to fight for. My wife, my little boy, they were maybe still out there! I need to go back and save them, or at least die trying…! So I deserted, I ran for my life and the other guards didn’t even try to stop me. I ran back to the village only to enter our old house and look around, maybe they made it back and sought shelter in the building. I got up to the second floor and into little Wilhelm’s room, and that when I heard it… a laugh. A deep and loud laugh right outside of the house, it sounded like Xoila, but much deeper. I went down stairs and opened to the front door only to see her, but it wasn’t her. She was deformed, he skin dark and her eyes a bright red. She held a rotten pumpkin and stared at me before smiling, “Come, my love.” she said. I went back inside and locked the door, and here we are… They’re going to kill me, or worse, but I beg of you… Remember us.

  • ArchivedUserArchivedUser Guest
    edited October 2018
    User: Digital_Wind

    Entry:  

    o:)
    Special Node welcomes
    Weary warriors rest their soles
    Autumn drinks and treats

    The Festivities
    Node hides the truth behind mirth
    Streets and buildings smirk

    Setting sun bring chills
    Red Moon rises warriors run
    Node enjoys the kills

    Everywhere they die
    Screams and terror lasts the night
    Nowhere they can run

    The new year's Autumn
    Again special Node beckons
    Rest you weary souls
     >:) 
  • Username: CptBrownBeard


    Entry: The Legend of the Wailing Woods


    It started as a whisper. The cool breeze that marked the beginning of harvest season. It grew slowly into a wailing as the wind swept through the trees. Dried leaves, already an amalgamation of deep browns and crimson, rustled as they scraped against each other. Limbs that had already been stripped clean clawed hungrily at the air, reaching for more than root could provide. The sinking sun shed what little light it could, but still the forest had begun to descend into shadow. Fighting against the growing darkness a small fire burned willfully as a handful of adventurers took their rest within its halo of warmth. Cloaks wrapped tight about them, the group tore savagely at the slivers of meat they had roasted upon the flames. Juices splashed steaming onto the thin grass they rested on with every bite, each adventurer shoveling down what they could before it grew cold. Beside them small piles of bones had begun to stack up. Though their hunger was sated they could not deny the incessant gnawing picking away at the back of their minds. The growing silence seemed to stretch out, but none of the party made to breach it first. Finally, the Niküa ranger tossed the small stick he was holding into the fire. The wooden spit crackled and popped as he stared into the jerking flames. He spoke, not even realizing he was whispering.


    “Do nae worry, lads. We’ll find a cleric in tha village an’ return to dispel the poison magix on the morn.”


    The dwarf lifted his eyes, but the blanket mood had been set and none of the others had the desire to accept their failure. The sound of rattling metal caught his attention. Behind him, inside a small cage, one of the “rabbits” they had captured still sat awaiting its turn over the flames. Its elongated teeth clicked together and it turned its gaze to stare at the dwarf. A shiver ran up his short spine as the beady black eyes of the creature held his gaze far longer than a creature should have. Pushing himself to his feet sore feet, he hobbled over to the cage and pulled his hand axe from its sling. The rabbit made no movement, merely opening its mouth and closing it again repeatedly. The dwarf swung the axe and its blade clattered loudly across the steel bars of the cage. Instead of retreating back farther in the cage, like he’d expected, the rabbit launched itself at him. Gnashing teeth sought to tear the metal away, and the dwarf fell back on his rear with a surprised grunt.


    The large fighter of the group, a Ren’kai orc, laughed deeply at the dwarf’s fright. He stood and marched over before kicking the cage. The rabbit cried out in pain as it was bashed against the bars. The orc lifted the dwarf and went back to his seat, still laughing.


    “Afraid of a small rabbit, tiny dwarf? Maybe we should head back now so you can find your safe bed.”


    The dwarf let the snide remark slide, but he could not shake the fierce thumping of his heart. Looking back at the rabbit did not help, as it had retaken its original seat. Still staring. Still clicking its teeth. Even with the crackling of the flames nearby the dwarf could still make it out.


    clack-clack clack-clack


    He had not noticed until now, but the wailing of the forest had grown louder. He picked up his cloak where it had fallen and began to wrap it around himself when he realized something else.


    The wind was not blowing.


    The other adventurers had begun to take notice, as well, each of them rising to their feet with confusion etched on their faces. Turning to the caged rabbit the dwarf squinted his eyes in concern.


    “It ken nae be…”


    While the dwarf watched the rabbit opened its mouth wider than before. A piercing scream erupted from its lungs. It was shrill and unending, a cry of desperation and rage. The wailing within the trees grew closer. It engulfed the campsite with macabre lamentation. One by one, rabbits emerged from the undergrowth. They encircled the small camp, razor sharp teeth glinting from the light of the fire. The adventurers drew or picked up their respective weapons, but each had realized the soft brown at the edge of the fire's influence was a sea of fur. A horde of teeth and claw descended upon the grim-faced group in a flurry of gnashing knives. Their screams of terror and pain were drowned out by the constant wailing, and they ended as abruptly as they’d begun.


    A league away the local node village rested behind its newly fashioned walls. The villagers often tell the passing merchants to avoid what they colloquially dubbed the “Wailing Woods.” On exceptionally dark nights the wails can be heard across the entire village. No one knows the cause, but they do know one thing: Whomever is in the forest during a wailing night...does not come back.


This discussion has been closed.