Just Looking For Opinions
Aug 10, 2011 13:15:13 GMT -5
Post by Axium on Aug 10, 2011 13:15:13 GMT -5
Prologue
The full moon hangs above a dark pine forest, its light illuminating the white snow on the ground. Deer and snow mare gallop across the white land. Gentle wind blows across the tundra, making the ice dance among the crisp, frosty air. It stops abruptly. The animals freeze. All is still.
Suddenly, a black form materializes out of the darkness, rising out of the frozen ground like black smoke. The thing has no shape or form; it is nothing but Darkness, black magic, yet it has power, enough to kill. Its name fits it perfectly: a Shadow.
The Shadow opens its sinister, red eyes, nothing but slits in a dark fabric, searching. It glides along the snow-covered ground, surveying its surroundings. It stops at the base of a tree. It spots something in the snow. Footprints. It makes a hissing sound.
Hundreds more Shadows appear. Their leader has made the signal. He has found them. The swarm of darkness floats across the ground, following the tracks. They have almost reached their target. The Lord will be pleased.
****************************************************
Hundreds of steps away, a small, ragged group of travelers, four hikers in total, trekked across a barren wasteland of snow and ice. One, a short, thin young man, dressed in a worn black cloak, suddenly fell, overcome with fatigue. His scarred dark face scrunched up, as if he were in pain.
A second man, this one in his late fifties and wearing a long, flowing gray beard, rushed over. He crouched down near the young man and whispered, reassuringly, “Get up, come on, we only have a few more…” He stopped in mid-sentence. “No. No. They can’t be here yet. No!”
As if on cue, the army of Shadows drifted out of the darkness. They swarmed the four humans, extending their black claws toward them.
A young woman with flowing blond hair widened her eyes. The old man saw her terror, and whispered, “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.” He lowered his head in shame. “But we must do the Passing. Remember, protect the stones!” On the last word, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a small, gray stone. The others, except for the pained man, copied his movements. Slowly, the travelers began chanting an unintelligible spell, green mist curling from their eyes. The mist enveloped their entire bodies, cocooning them in a shroud of magic. Nearing the end of the ritual, the travelers raised their stones above their heads, and in a burst of pure energy, all that was left of the stones were wisps of smoke. Exhausted, the hikers collapsed next to their unconscious friend, who hadn’t moved an inch since his fall.
The Shadows, who previously were afraid to attack because of the writhing green mist, suddenly closed in. Take no prisoners, the Lord had said, but retrieve the Stones. The humans were easily killed with a breath of darkness, entering their veins and stopping the heart. But the Stones couldn’t be found in their pockets, or their hands, not even in their packs. The Shadow screeched in anger. They had failed their mission.
The Lord will not be pleased.
The full moon hangs above a dark pine forest, its light illuminating the white snow on the ground. Deer and snow mare gallop across the white land. Gentle wind blows across the tundra, making the ice dance among the crisp, frosty air. It stops abruptly. The animals freeze. All is still.
Suddenly, a black form materializes out of the darkness, rising out of the frozen ground like black smoke. The thing has no shape or form; it is nothing but Darkness, black magic, yet it has power, enough to kill. Its name fits it perfectly: a Shadow.
The Shadow opens its sinister, red eyes, nothing but slits in a dark fabric, searching. It glides along the snow-covered ground, surveying its surroundings. It stops at the base of a tree. It spots something in the snow. Footprints. It makes a hissing sound.
Hundreds more Shadows appear. Their leader has made the signal. He has found them. The swarm of darkness floats across the ground, following the tracks. They have almost reached their target. The Lord will be pleased.
****************************************************
Hundreds of steps away, a small, ragged group of travelers, four hikers in total, trekked across a barren wasteland of snow and ice. One, a short, thin young man, dressed in a worn black cloak, suddenly fell, overcome with fatigue. His scarred dark face scrunched up, as if he were in pain.
A second man, this one in his late fifties and wearing a long, flowing gray beard, rushed over. He crouched down near the young man and whispered, reassuringly, “Get up, come on, we only have a few more…” He stopped in mid-sentence. “No. No. They can’t be here yet. No!”
As if on cue, the army of Shadows drifted out of the darkness. They swarmed the four humans, extending their black claws toward them.
A young woman with flowing blond hair widened her eyes. The old man saw her terror, and whispered, “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.” He lowered his head in shame. “But we must do the Passing. Remember, protect the stones!” On the last word, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a small, gray stone. The others, except for the pained man, copied his movements. Slowly, the travelers began chanting an unintelligible spell, green mist curling from their eyes. The mist enveloped their entire bodies, cocooning them in a shroud of magic. Nearing the end of the ritual, the travelers raised their stones above their heads, and in a burst of pure energy, all that was left of the stones were wisps of smoke. Exhausted, the hikers collapsed next to their unconscious friend, who hadn’t moved an inch since his fall.
The Shadows, who previously were afraid to attack because of the writhing green mist, suddenly closed in. Take no prisoners, the Lord had said, but retrieve the Stones. The humans were easily killed with a breath of darkness, entering their veins and stopping the heart. But the Stones couldn’t be found in their pockets, or their hands, not even in their packs. The Shadow screeched in anger. They had failed their mission.
The Lord will not be pleased.
