Woe: A Collaborative Novel

Reads: 6110  | Likes: 14  | Shelves: 6  | Comments: 90

More Details
Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: The Imaginarium


As plots tend to do...it thickens.



Exline



Soundtrack Instructions: click on "soundtrack" under the icomments button. Play. Click "watch on youtube.com." Close the icomment.

Chapter 4 (v.1) - Lair - by C. Allen Exline

Submitted: August 16, 2017

Reads: 289

Comments: 4

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 16, 2017

A A A

A A A

 

Soundtrack

In the lair of Sul'Ma Corr, shadow prevailed. Only the glimmering eyes of his pets interrupted the blackness of their recessed cages, and dim slivers of light fell at strange angles from unseen sources onto tiles the color of fresh tar.

Sul'Ma Corr strode past, stepping out onto the high, cantilevered terrace, into the clear sunlight. His sable robes and ebon armor seemed to rob the very day of its radiance, wreathing him in an eldritch gloom that even the sun could not fully dispel.

He chuckled raspingly to himself as he gazed out over the crags and spiring tors that populated the landscape about his fortress. Sere and rugged, they extended far into the distance, where his mountain realm descended to rolling moorland.

Several iotas were visible there. Mere motes at this distance, despite his preternatural sight. Nevertheless he could feel them: his seekers. But what had they found? Was the search finally over?

He turned the possibility over in his mind. At once morose and jubilant, he essayed to suppress the relief that swelled, unbidden, within his accursed soul.

Shall I? he thought. Shall I at last be free?

He would not allow himself hope. His seekers had been about their quest for so, so long now...How long had it been? he asked himself. Centuries? Millennia? Almost too long to fathom, he considered. Too long, indeed.

Turning his back on the vista, he returned once more into the dusky womb of his fortress
. The Stygian Steel walls thrummed with a power that only he could feel, the power that held him there. He basked in it, reveled in it; and yet it was his prison, the essence of his confinement. It was a force he both craved and despised.

Niches spilled their slivers of weird light as he passed them by, marching to his ancient throne-room. Deliritus Crystals spewed out their mystic glow, bulbs of light captive as he. An old trick, he reflected. Forgotten by Men. The crystals once lit his homeland, that quondam empire that ruled from the sea. I was a man, once, he mused. But perhaps such things were best forgotten.

He strode upon the dark tiles, through the vast hall, to his dais. Pets lurked thereabouts, anchored in place by heavy iron chains. They would be free, as well, he reminded himself, if the seekers have completed their quest.

Sul'Ma Corr ascended to his throne.

The black metal surface was pleasantly cold to his touch. Cold as the gelid kiss of death, he mused.

He sat. He sat as he had sat for ages, thinking the dour thoughts he was wont to think.

Man will suffer. Smirking behind the Stygian mask that had become one with his face, he allowed himself a sneer: They will know my suffering. They will know my pain. I shall bring a new order to the Lands of Men, to Midgard. They may fear the reign of elves, but they do not yet know the reign of Sul'Ma Corr.

 

 



© Copyright 2019 C.A. Exline. All rights reserved.

Chapters

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply