Ghosts of a Dwed's Past

[Greener 687]

Ghosts of a Dwed’s Past

 

A book lays rest on a stone mantle piece. Cobwebs and dust scatter the mantle the book conquest by the webs.  A dim red stone torch lights the dare room tables overturned writing of blood on the walls. A rat and cave chicken scurries along the stone floor they share a glance at each other as they past the hiss of the rat, a piercing noise to the ears of any race, defiles the chickens business within the home. A quick exchange of clashes between the two before you emerge from the shadows stopping causing a sudden stop in their conflict. As you step forward the cracks of bones and junk under the shoe of your feet. The book out of all objects within the room seems untouched apart from the coverage of webs. The book's cover an oak brown colour faded from time. A gust of wind engulfs the city, due to icy harsh storm outside, it's spread seeping into every alley and house. The dust flings off from the book, table and all sorts. A thick cloud covers the room for all brief second. The dust begins to settle once more a majority landing on your shoulders and hair. A quick shake disperses the dust and the cover emerges visible once more. A few rune words are seen notifying you of its dwarven origins. The page turns and the commoner title is detailed. ‘Ghosts of a Dwed’s Past’ You then begin to read on...

 

I find myself each night dancing my eyes around the shadows. The sudden fear of the unexpected to burst forth from the shadows gripping my bare body as I sleep. The cold touch freezing my skin the fear clouding my judgement for these beings are overwhelming me too much. I pray to Yemekar and the Brathmordakin religiously to help me fight this war against my mind. My mind is not as trained as others those with the mental capacity would find this task simple yet for me the grief is great.

 

This began as a wee beardling within the halls of Kal’Azgoth the death of my father and mother was a traumatic event that took place before my eyes. I stood upon the hillside with many a kin watching the armoured dwarven warriors encircled by the swarm of humans. My heart tightened as I saw kin alike and family fall before my eyes. The past which flickers now even more in the shadows the horrific sight of war. For most they see I live and breed war. The blood and guts of men slaughtered orcs and elves please me. It is the only thing to deal with my pain, my lust to honour my parents to ensure I don’t end a grisly fate. Yet I feel the more I cause pain the more it inflicts back on me, the past becoming more clear these endless nights driving me stark beyond a dwarf’s belief.

 

Except it is not only my parents that haunt my eyes and mind. My brothers that I grew up with Dreek and Igor. They guided me for thick and thin, troublesome times and grief. For I grasp for the day I can be reunited with them. I see their faces often at night. Their arms clawing at my bed side trying to grip my soul. Every passing night I fear they almost achieve their goal, closer to my body and soul. I’ve started to even place salt, pray and place totems around my bed but to no prevail I awake each night to those icy shadows approaching me, I squirm away escaping their boney fingers. Although I feel happiness in seeing their faces but not like this. Has Yemekar forsaken me? Is Dungrim coming to take me to the moon?

 

A sudden grunt breaks your fixation on the book. A undefined figure looms at the doorway the sound of it reaching into a bag retrieving an item. The sound ceases and the figure appears to move once more. A slight grinding sound is heard against the stone and a match ignites before you. 

 

 

The light quickly fills the room yourself becoming visible. “Whaa da fawk ar’ ye doin’” barks Odin his stern face becoming increasingly narrowed on your body. “Gewt oot ov meh ‘ouse! Gewt gewt oot!” Shocked to see the unexpected figure you…

 

((Basically some rp to explain my stark nature if you wish to reply and continue this rp please do :D Thanks for reading))

 

Edited November 24, 2015 by Greener161

[ThumperJack 927]

Wyrric Irongut holds his hands up in a calming manner "Ah'm goin', ah'm goin'. Jus' explorin' dis place, an' gettin' frum de cold, as ye may know." The wandering dwed says, shivering lightly at the chills from outside coming in.

Edited November 24, 2015 by Master Gnost-Dural (Jack)

[Elad™ 560]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.