Kotch1 wip
- 1. Dalinaar (Work in progress, can’t think of a name good enough, but I wanted to write something so I made something up), a vast white plain of grey mists and long forgotten battles. And there in the middle stood a single black tower, extending far beyond the clouds where no mortal man could reach, and yet, at the peak of the tower, laid a single man, tearing at the chains that bound him. Snarling and roaring as any beast would. His skin paled and his body clad in a nightmarish array of rusted plate and steel, and on his decrepit skull rested a silver crown of bloodied barbs, untouched by time and man alike. Imprisoned for years beyond his knowledge for acts beyond the knowledge of others. It was here that they gathered. Creatures of greed and villainy, beast and men alike. The first to arrive were the orcs, for they above all others revered this man, small and dim though they were. They were soon followed by the dwarves and the elves, who in turn were followed by the trolls and the creatures of lesser knowledge. From the tallest of elves to the smallest of insects, all stood in awe of their lord and his prison. All but one, however. His bulky arms dragged across the plains, spreading filth wherever he went, his back blistered from the countless lashings, and his nose burned to a grotesque form. Grishnak (Once again, work in progress) the orc stumbled across the assemblage, with knife in hand. He had spotted a dwarf, not much smaller than he, not too long ago, and had been stalking it ever since. “How appetizing it would be, as the very last strand of its fat ran down my throat” he whispered to himself. The very thought of cutting into its flesh sent shivers down Grishnak’s spine. Grishnak began to salivate uncontrollably, raining a colorless slime onto his reddened toes. He had to have it; just a brief taste would be enough for him. The voices in the corners of Grishnak’s mind cheered him on. “Do it!” they cried. “Devour his flesh!” they demanded. Grishnak’s knife plunged deep into bowels of the dwarf’s flesh. The dwarf fell to the ground, spewing curses and blood all the same. And yet, all were silent. Grishnak gorged himself with the fallen dwarf’s corpse. And yet, all were silent.<br />The gaze of his lord fell upon him like the shadow of a mountain, and all of his lord’s malice and ferocity poured into the deepest confines of Grishnak’s soul. He could do nothing but tremble in the face of his lord, all was as dust before him. And yet, a smirk. A crooked smile of yellowed fangs and blackened flesh. His lord had met Grishnak’s empty stare with a smile. And somewhere within his lord’s mangled frenzy of snarls Grishnak could hear something magnificent, but a single word that stirred emotions that overwhelmed Grishnak. “War’, and again did his lord declare “War” and yet a third time did his lord declare “War”. Grishnak’s skin began to itch, and the skin under his skin, and the flesh under that. Some lost primal urge stirred within Grishnak, controlling his every movement and thought. He began to chant it. The skies blackened, and the vast white plains of Dalinaar rang out with “War”. A great storm fell upon them and lightning did fall to the earth, like a great dragon, but none of them showed the slightest sign of caution or anxiety. And as the last chain that bound their lord shattered, the tower did collapse unto the vast plains. And so did the King of Terror let loose his wings of flame and descend from the heavens, casting a great shadow upon the earth. That not even the brightest of lights could extinguish.<br />