1. This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this site, you are agreeing to our use of cookies. Learn More.
  2. Greetings Guest!!

    In order to combat SPAM on the forums, all users are required to have a minimum of 2 posts before they can submit links in any post or thread.

    Dismiss Notice

"Sundering Storms"

Discussion in 'UO Baja' started by Sleath, Jul 24, 2009.

  1. Sleath

    Sleath Guest

    The sky was black and ominous as the clouds swirled overhead. The lightning, jagged and crisp, cut through it like sparks from a blacksmith’s anvil. The rain came down in torrents and the wind howled like a mad beast just loosed from its cage. Amidst this chaos a figure stood upon the rocks at the edge of the mountain. The darkness seemed to unfold around the black clad stranger. The figure did not move, did not waiver, as if transfixed not by the storm but something darker, something deeper, something more powerful. Then the figure raised its arms, beckoning the storm or the darkness to come closer, to draw him near. The storm’s fury raised as the gestures continued. The thunder exploded like a thousand cannons, and the lighting split open the sky. The crescendo of the storm pulsated with the dark figure on the rocks, drawing nearer to him! He was close now… he could smell the faintest hint of amber amongst the pungent sulfur of the exploding electricity around him. He screamed as the lighting engulfed him.
    - - -
    He was now in the Dark Tower, in one of the long black corridors. The walls were whispering to him, he strained to focus to hear what was said but there were too many. He could feel the eyes of the ancients upon him, the weight bearing him to his knees. He cried out again. Then one voice became clear. “It is time servant of Darkness. You must unite the three. The Well of Souls, the Dark Tower, and the Darkness. The gateway will be open soon. All must be in place.” The whispering returned and the weight was lifted. He stood. Something warm and sticky ran down his face and onto his lips. The bitter taste of blood touched his tongue.
    - - -
    Sleath bolted up from the floor of the lab. The whispers still echoing in his ears, the command of the ancients booming like a drum. He gathered himself up and looked around the room. The staff was still there, the infused crystal, all was as it had been before he had lain down to sleep in the lab of Finneus Crick. The girl Jamie eyed him with suspicion from across the room but made no movements toward him. He ran to the gate to begin preparations. There was much to do and very little time.
  2. Sleath

    Sleath Guest

    The young woman pushed away from her chair. Outside, a rare storm raged. The thunder made her cold stone walls shudder. There was lightning, she could hear it, but it did not brighten this place. There were no windows. No windows and only one entry. She stood, her form bending as though it felt older than it looked. The lightning cracked somewhere nearby, the hair on the back of her neck raised. Slowly, her eyes took in the room. It was nearly empty, save the table at which she’d been studying. No one was here, but she felt eyes on her. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of them. Then the whispering came. For years, her halls had been silent, the only whispers were her own. A wash of hissing voices, all with their own message, threatened to overwhelm her. Familiar but threatening, warning. In the cacophony of sound, she made out three words;

    Darkmor. Darkness comes