Ilikefooddude 430 Share Posted January 13, 2016 The Isle of the Spirits, Frum'Harna, was awoken in an uncharacteristic hush. The usual alarms of morning birds, beasts and worship were muted to the Farseer as he rose from his bed. Alarmed, Thurak'Yar spluttered into consciousness, pushing aside the flaps of his tent to duck outside. His vision flickered, once into blackness and then into brilliant resurgence, like a sunbeam through the autumn leaves. The vision subsided with a warping pull on the Motsham's reality; time returned to the present, and the voices of a thousand children, speaking in droned synchronisation, echoed into oblivion as Thurak struggled to his feet. Slowly letting his tusks rise from their bowed position, he tried to compose himself with a strange grunt and shudder. Try as he might, though, there was no shaking the worry which had wrapped itself around Thurak's thoughts, sprouting as so many goosebumps on his bare skin. Something was coming. 8 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
CosmicWhaleShark 2488 Share Posted January 13, 2016 In the forge of Laureh'lin, Phaedrus toils away at the anvil, hammering the blade of a greatsword into shape. The clanging that rings from the forge suddenly comes to a stop however, followed by the shuffling of armor, the clatter of fallen tools, and the thud of a slumped over body upon the stone bricks. He felt nothing. He smelled nothing. He saw nothing. However from the blackness a chorus was heard. Origins all but absolute What? Weave not past my own dispute Who is this? Strands of fate now do entwine . . . Both Mind and Soul are my design Is it now? Safeguard not my children near Curious. Mine is a vessel of love and fear . . . Pity not the weight of strain Strain... I do this time and time again Pulled back into reality, Phaedrus finally comes into consciousness. The blade he was working upon long cooled into a dull grey, the furnace smoldering in dying embers. Brushing away a small layer of dust and leaves that had settled upon him from the breezes outside, he brings himself to his feet, releasing a slow exhale. "Where is some parchment..." 5 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Travista 1361 Share Posted January 13, 2016 (( OOOOOOOO IT'S CAPPENING Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Angmarzku 1251 Share Posted June 30, 2016 Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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