rabarts2

Yes, when I woke up this morning I couldn't help but  feel like I had just roused from a sleep some many many months longer than a single night, a sleep in which I had the strangest dream. In this dream I was a puppet master of some kind, tugging on the strings of life and death for a merry band of journeymen who stumbled from one entanglement to the next as they crossed a land blighted by chaos and peopled by twisted creatures and treachery aplenty. I would write down these strange dreams, yet I'm sure someone else must have already done it. 

Meanwhile, did I mention earlier that we had found a vast, apparently abandoned citadel, and had been exploring it to find any sign of life? No? Well, aside from the bizarre ghostly automatons who come upon us in their numbers and fall so very quickly to blade and blast, and the faint stench of fox urine, anyone would think that the place had been left desolate and uninhabited for a hundred years or more. 

But this is the Feywild, a place where nothing is as it seems, and where there are as many mysteries in the light as there are in the shadow.


( What lurks behind the veil? )

I have yet to be impressed by the hospitality of this shadow land. First we're set upon by giants and wraiths in the misty woods, then we stumble across a pile of ruins only to find ourselves surrounded by rotting corpses intent on devouring us. How very discourteous of them, I must say. I would have expected at least a "please, sir, might I chew on your succulent flesh?" from the ravenous dead before they tried chowing down on us, but not so much as a 'by-your-leave' did we hear. No, just straight in with the biting. 

Most unacceptable. 

( Pass the salt & ... OW! )

You think that's funny, do you? You won't be laughing once I'm done telling you my tale of woe. And woeful it surely is! I'm not even exaggerating, not even a little bit! Honest!  ( Shadowy doings in shadowy places... )

Ah, the wind, the rain, the sun, the chafing between the thighs. Nothing like being back on a horse in the rough wilderness. 


Aye, we've left the pyramid behind us in ruins, the ghosts of Thrullzon and Karavakos to wail on the wind, and the Rod of Ruin in ashes. I drank many a jolly libation to the passing of that foul thing, and when I was done burning it and drinking to its passing I vented my bladder liberally upon its cremated dust. Consider yourself ruined, Rod of Ruin. * Pfft *


See how I did that, using words to express my physical distaste? Hah! Next I'll be making smiling faces with punctuation. It will usher in the Revolution! 



( Hear! Hear! The Waffle of Vondal the Second!! )

( Hear! Hear! The Waffle of Vondal the Second!! )Ah, the wind, the rain, the sun, the chafing between the thighs. Nothing like being back on a horse in the rough wilderness. 


Aye, we've left the pyramid behind us in ruins, the ghosts of Thrullzon and Karavakos to wail on the wind, and the Rod of Ruin in ashes. I drank many a jolly libation to the passing of that foul thing, and when I was done burning it and drinking to its passing I vented my bladder liberally upon its cremated dust. Consider yourself ruined, Rod of Ruin. * Pfft *


See how I did that, using words to express my physical distaste? Hah! Next I'll be making smiling faces with punctuation. It will usher in the Revolution! 

Poor old Thrullzon. I guess he just wasn't what Orcus was looking for to take over the world, when it came down to it. 

Yes, this is me, your lovable furry friend Akmenos, finally back in my own skin. Thrullzon is, once again, history, so it's only fair that the last moments of his tale should have their telling, and who better to tell it than the one who had been watching through his eyes, through my eyes, for all these cursed days that he has been among us.
( Putting the dead to rest... )

 He is close, I can feel it in these bones. Even though we continue to battle past his minions and monsters, beasts of towering bone and spitting flame, and even though we face his misshapen simulacra, I know that we have not yet destroyed the true abomination that is Karavakos. 

But we are so very, very close. I know it, almost as if an unheard voice whispers in the back of my mind that just around the next corner, just up the next flight of stairs, just beyond the next leaping vortex of flame and shadow, he will be waiting. Patiently, like a long-lost lover, hungry for the kiss of death. 
( The Endgame Begins... )

 Karavakos is toying with our minds. He lays traps and illusions and waits for us to fall into them, his laughter unheard but echoing shrill in the back of our ears as we struggle to survive another ploy, another deception. 

( What madness this way lies? )