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Writing Excercise: Prompt #4

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Dealthagar
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Joined: 05 Mar 2004
Posts: 1514
Location: Spiritual Nirvanna

PostPosted: Mon Mar 01, 2010 1:51 pm Post subject: Writing Excercise: Prompt #4 Reply with quote

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This is a series of Writing Exercises reflecting on your character(s) and their past, present, future, nature, possibilities.

The opening prompt will be the start of a topic and replies can follow it.
The fiction can be something that actually happened in chronicle or just a wild twist of the imagination (I love What Ifs and alternate dimensions in comics), but they rarely get past a page of text and have been as small as three paragraphs. I don't think any sort of limit needs to be imposed, but this is more for short pieces and creativity than long stories (which folks would still love to read out in the other forums).
Any character can be used and multiple submissions with multiple chars is fine.

Others prompts may occur, but we'll start with these types:
Spark Word - A single word to think on and write what comes to you.
Memory - An actual character memory or past scene.
First Line - The first line will be provided for the writer to continue from.
What If - A question that is most often answered with a scene that hasn't happened (yet) in the main timeline, but sure would be interesting to "test out".

Feel free to write your own prompts, but please make sure it's not a duplicate and if you're willing to prompt, be willing to write.

And most of all....have fun.


Seems like the Memory one took a bit to get some meat under it. Glad to see that people took a stab at it.

I was going to do propose a "What If" but im going to hold off as those tend to be a bit...daunting. But we had a heck of a response to the "First Line" so we're going to do another one of those.

"The dream came that night."

Enjoy.
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Do something to the best of your abilty or don't do it at all
Feel to the fullest of your ability, cutting yourself off from your emotions leads to spiritual death
Control your being, your existance, your destiny.

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Solanaceae
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Joined: 26 Dec 2009
Posts: 107
Location: Wisconsin

PostPosted: Sat Mar 06, 2010 3:28 pm Post subject: “Choices and Consequences”, Descent #2 Reply with quote

The dream came that night.

Again and again her vision replayed itself in her mind, and each time her own ever-changing eyes stared back from the depths of the goddess Solanaceae woke with a cry of fear, her body drenched. The third time the dream shook her from slumber the Fae clutched her arms to her sides. The self-hug did little to calm her shivering. She couldn’t go one like this. Even with what was left of the link to her people’s magic, Solanaceae’s body would need rest eventually. She had to do something. She had to find peace. As much as Solanaceae dreaded the task, she knew she must tell him. Only he might understand her vision. Yes, often she’d been warmed by the Magus of the folly of speaking of her devotion to her goddess, but circumstances had changed. Now that her goddess had at last revealed her true identity Solanaceae could no longer hide the truth. Lilith would demand dedications, sacrifice, proof of her loyalty. No matter the punishment, Solanaceae could no longer hide behind the safety of her silence.

Safety. What a ridiculous notion. Solanaceae had not felt safe since long before she was outcast from the Fae lands. Now she seemed doomed to be cut off from feeling, from gentleness, from comfort, the price of her goddess’ favor. When she was not hidden behind glamour, she was looked upon with fear and disdain, even amongst those that made up her new community. In their eyes she saw the echo of their distaste for her, that was when they saw her at all. Solanaceae accepted this, accepted the truth that the people her could never really understand her. Acceptance didn’t not mean that the truth of this made her happy.

Reaching for a red and gold silk robe from her wardrobe, Solanaceae glanced sadly to the bed, toward the body of her unfortunate feline companion, and was surprised to find the spot empty. Curious. She walked around the bed and touched the indentation on the blanket when the cat had lain, it was cold. She sniffed the fabric. Yes, this was where Hemlock had been, but nothing was there now. How odd.

Solanaceae wrapped the robe tighter around her body and turned away from the bed. There was no time to wonder about the missing body now. Perhaps her snake Kali had claimed the cat. It was as it should be, for death claimed all. Even the most precious of creatures could not avoid Oblivion for long. If she was to truly serve the Order, she had to learn to stop holding onto her sentimental ties, learn to stop letting foolishness like love and compassion cloud her purpose. Only with the end of the corrupt humans’ world could her people ever have a chance at new life once Sosaria was reborn.

After cleaning her body with rosewater and lavender soaps, Solanaceae dressed in her elven silks and traced the familiar arcane gestures that would take her to the Herald’s domain. She would tell him what her goddess had shown her. Dealthagar would know what to do.
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Grignag
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Joined: 19 Nov 2007
Posts: 500

PostPosted: Tue Mar 09, 2010 8:03 am Post subject: Reply with quote

The dream came that night. Indeed it is the last one Izrem would ever have... and it was magnificent.

In his dreams he saw the final components of the Entropy Field Generator come together. He saw the bloody sacrifices of many souls laid at the foot of the altar as the Sapling of Corruption drank deep of the life within each sanguine droplet. The wild and untamed entropic energies that floated haplessly around the Stygian Grove rushed in to drive forward the destiny of the Order. A great plume of entropic mist hissed forth from the branches of the broken and corrupted tree, covering the lands of Umbra in an eternal, dark pall and spreading the cold tendrils of Oblivion across the face of Southern Malas. He saw the necromancers drawing from its nigh infinite fount of entropic power to forge their dark arts while thousands of mournful and sibilant whispers echoed up from the Well of Souls onto the ethereal winds. In every nook the power of the Ebon Skull would seep and the energies that settled onto the Umbran landscape would scar and warp it, forever marking it as the land of the chosen of Oblivion. It was a magnificent dream.

The dream was still fresh in Izrem's mind as he completed the final preparations on the Entropy Field Generator. With all set in place he proceeded with the activation. The bloody sacrifices were cast upon the roots of the Sapling of Corruption. The ethereal winds began to gather as a darkness fell upon the assembled scions of Oblivion. Izrem began his incantations, pushing the field to higher and greater levels of power. He felt the consuming essence of Entropy flow into the artifact as a dark mist begin to billow from it, spewing into the air. Once again his mind was swept up in his dream. It was coming to pass. A lifetime spent in research was coming to fruition.

Yet in his rush to accomplish his goals, he had forgotten the most basic lesson taught to any supplicant of the Order. Chaos does not suffer being contained. Entropy is not a toy to be contained. As the ritual finished Izrem was astonished to find that the field continued to swell, dredging up more and more energy. And it showed no intent on slowing down. The High Necromancer Kaelthir looked to him as he began panicked containment rituals. She inquired if there was a problem. Of course not! Izrem was not some neophyte! He knew how to contain a mild over flow like thi-

Izrem's soul contracted and withered in a way that it had not felt since he had stood in the presence of the Lich Lord Azalin under the Ancient Order. No... it was worse... so much colder. So cold that it burned. The stream of Entropic force arced from the containment wards and ripped into Izrem, before carrying on to the recently returned Dealthagar. The scream he released from his lips did not even begin to compare to the scream within his soul as the powers of Entropy taught the arrogant necromancer the folly of his ways. Izrem had used Entropy to destroy so many things and unmake so much... now it sought to unmake him. As the raw energies of Entropy decayed and tore away his soul, casting fragments of it into Oblivion, Izrem focused his mind once more, activating the protective runes carved upon his flesh and into the structure of the Sepulcher of Unmaking. In a sudden flash the excess energies slammed themselves into the soulshards surrounding the generator before blasting into the skies towards Sanctus. Izrem slumped to the ground, a massive weight lifting off him. He needed to be carried to Morn Cirith in the wake of the ritual. The words of his superiors admonished him for his folly, but they all seemed so far away. Something within him was... missing. And something within him was trying to take away more. Collecting a death cloak he had specially prepared as a seal against entropic energies, Izrem worked to change its purpose. Instead of keeping unwanted energies out, it would seal and contain the energies now crawling through his soul, still unmaking his very essence as it went.

The final incantations were completed and Izrem donned the cloak. His eyes disappeared into the depths of the dark cowl, banishing the black orbs his eyes had become into the uncertainty of artificial night. The slight yet genuine smile he often carried on his lips vanished just as quickly, the part of himself that had projected such outward shows of contentment stripped from reality.

Sitting at his desk, the Entropy Field Generator humming above him as unfamiliar whispers came to his ears, Izrem looked within himself. He soon felt his eyes pulled to the door at the end of the room. It was there as it had always been, yet suddenly he felt a presence behind it. Cold, inexorable, uncaring yet with terrible purpose. It beckoned to him. Commanded him. To step forward and finish what had already started. It was a dream... yet not. It was a reminder of his ultimate end. Behind that door sat inevitability. And now it waited. Waited until a moment of inattentiveness on his part through which it could force open the door and consume him. That dark and cold reality that was his eventual demise and destruction at the hands of the power he served.

Izrem never dreamed again. While his body continues to walk the lands of Sosoria and Malas, the part of him that once roamed the realm of his mind in his slumber now continues to watch that door. Every moment of every day watching... waiting... wondering when the final darkness would come.
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