Night Internecine...

Night Internecine...

Postby Rance » Sat Jul 26, 2003 8:31 am

I grow weary of this, Audmathus. The time ..

The spiders were knitting at his flesh, burrowing into blotches of moist dermis where fire had burned away flesh. They were squeezing themselves into his wounds, jabbing their heads and forelegs further into blood-clotted lascerations. All the while, black fists were tightening upon the arms of that makeshift throne, obsidian nearly shattering beneath the squeeze of his slender fingers. As his servants worked, wove potions of healing and prosper throughout his bloodstream, fiery eyes were staring forward through the darkness.

.. the time has come. This Myrken Wood will prove fine enough, for now.

As tears in his skin were being sewn shut by needle-point spiderlegs and threads of thickened web, he was standing from his seat, pushing away from that canopy of webs. During these days of rest -- these days of recuperation -- the parasite had grown hungry, endlessly yearning. It had grown tired of these mere games, this constant strife of betterment. They had travelled the scapes of Naria, and then here to Myrken Wood. The symbiote Shadowdancer was tired of venturing. He wanted to settle. And above anything else that coursed through its vaporous, vein-inhabiting strucutre, it wanted to rule.

As it had done to Audmathus' cavern city of V'eldriinnshaarr, it would bring to the hills and plains and skies of Myrken Wood.

Through the shadows of that cavern, the parasite's host was striding, silvery tresses thrown backwards over a shoulder. .. In the center of that darkness-drowned hovel -- a blemish thousands of feet below the sun-scorched surface -- there burned a pyre of erotic, dancing flames, echoing the radiance of indigo firelight through the cavern's bowels. It was the only source of light, that magical fire, and it had been burning for decades. He was stepping towards it.

Without the sun, they are blind, the parasite cooed, a voice that ebbed in every one of those sinewed limbs. And the blind are weak. The weak are quick to die.

The presence was disgorging itself from his fingertips, pulsing through his veins and then exploding from the tips of his pores. .. Black vapor curled up and into the cobalt firelight, connecting fleshy fingertips to an ever-burning column of faerie fire. In the luminescence, Audmathus' eyes were quietly closed. Sweat and blood glistened along the chiseled lines of his flesh, and limbs were quivering in a certain, exotic arrousal. Toes were ground into the dry cracks of the subterranean crevace, and head was thrown backwards to stare up towards where the tongues of blue fire harmlessly licked at a distant, rigid ceiling.

The sooner we begin, the sooner it ends.

A tide of magic coursed throughout him, petty conduit of intentions from a sentient, other-planar beast. .. Mouth was viced open by unseen fingers, and every muscle within the dark elf tensed and drew itself into thin, taut strips. It was speaking through him, working at him, manipulating vocal cords with soft, inward carresses and forming lips and tongue to match the noise of arcane words. He could feel his heart bursting into sudden speed, hammering against his ribcage, while worms and spiders clambered about within his belly -- or so it felt. .. Into the air, from the bidding of the nefarious weapon, a hand was raised, and fingers thrust themselves into the Weave and began to form wicked, dark-elven rituals.

"Let .. it be .. done, then," Gasped Audmathus, as the parasite overwhelmed him. Through that shaft of eternal light, and within his body where the parasite nested, he began to hear translated words, echoing in his ears, stuttered at the compliments of thought and servitude.

The spiders were speaking to him -- thousands upon thousands of them. .. Millions of them. And Shadowdancer was responding to them, assigning their tasks one by one, while through Audmathus, he hailed to more, demanding their allegiance and aid.

There, miles below the soils of Myrken Wood, within shadows and dust, the first words of an ancient, drow spell had been spoken.
User avatar
Rance
Co-Founder
 
Posts: 2520
Joined: Tue Dec 10, 2002 8:00 am
Location: Maryland

Return to Myrken Wood



Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 17 guests

cron