"Chapter from Caverns of Terror

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Thie is a chapter from a novel that I am writting, please do not steal my work.

Submitted: July 06, 2009

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Submitted: July 06, 2009




Chapter 1

The Tenth Family

The dark elf bowed before his Matron. His sword in it's sheath and his shield on the ground. His gray eyes filled with terror for he knew his life was coming to an end.

“You have failed to pass the test of loyalty.” the Matron hissed. “Now do you have any excuses or shall I kill you this very second?”

All the dark elf did was look at the floor, for he knew that he was not allowed to speak or look directly at the Matron.

“You have permission to beg.” the Matron said.

“Matron Jonefire, of the family Jo'seg, I would like to plead my case please.”

“You may.”

“I failed the test of loyalty because of a peasant.”

“How?” Jonefire chuckled.

“Well you see. A peasant walked up to me starting to curse Liniith. Then he held a dagger to my throat and told me that I must agree to curse Liniith with him or he would kill me.”

“BRING FORTH THIS PEASANT. NOW!!!!” screamed Jonefire.

“Yes, my Matron Mother.”

Joken, a dark elf merchant saw the dark elf walk towards him. He put on a friendly face and said a greeting of high respect.

“Come with me.” growled the dark elf.

Joken immediately recognizing him turned and started running down the dark alley of Daritenamer, one of the many cities of dark elves. The dark elf shot a Kingdsomyr Arrow at Joken. It hit him square on the back as Joken toppled onto the ground. The dark elf then grabbed him and began to drag him to the castle.

“My Matron Mother, I bring you Joken!” said the dark elf.

“I swear Matron Mother that I did nothing.” said Joken, suddenly waking up.

“I did not give you permission to speak.” growled the Matron Mother.

“But Matron, are you going to believe this blasphemous failure, or me a successful merchant who passed the test of loyalty to Liniith.” Joken laughed.

“You are spirited Joken. Something males in this family should not be.” hissed Jonefire. “For his punishment, bring out my daughter, Kanyt.”

The dark elf who failed the test walked off into the darkness of the castle, returning a hour later with Kanyt.

“Whip him, show this peasant what it means to be a male.” growled Jonefire.

, “Yes my Matron. With pleasure my Matron.” laughed Kanyt.

She brought out a whip with six heads each with one eye that burned when it hit and six spikes on every head. She struck fast and hard at Joken, each hit burning worse and worse.

“And as for you, warrior, I have a grand punishment for failures.” laughed Jonefire.

Jonefire and the dark elf walked silently towards the cave's mouth. As the got closer the dark elf realized that this was the cave of the Dirnk, a dreadful creature that is half dark elf, half snake.

“Sweet dreams.” laughed Jonefire as she pushed the dark elf into the cavern. As she walked away she heard the screams of a terrified dark elf, and the hiss of a waking nightmare.

The Dirnk slithered out of it's chamber. It flickered it's forked tongue to see who had disturbed it's sleep.

'Another dark elf.' the Dirnk thought. The Dirnk slithered towards the dark elf, it's hammer in it's right hand. It tilted it's head down, a gesture of peace that dark elves used, and then dropped it's hammer to show it meant no harm. But that was before the pain began to swell in it's head.

'Attack, kill, attack, kill.' it said.

'No, I will kill no more.' the Dirnk fought back.

Then the pain became to bad that he had no choice. He grabbed his hammer and slithered towards the dark elf.

'Feel no sympathy for the dark elf. Remember he is no more then food that trespassed into your home.' the voice said, and the Dirnk could fight it no more. He swung his hammer down and let the voice of a monster take control.

The dark elf rolled out of the way just as the hammer began to swing down. “What happened to peace.” the dark elf roared.

The Dirnk didn't respond nor did it show any sign that it understood him and the hammer came down once again, only faster this time. The dark elf was allowed weapons in the chamber, but not shields so he unsheathed his sword and charged at the Dirnk. A tear dripped from his eye as he stabbed the blade in the fleshy snake body. The Dirnk in respond slammed his hammer down. The dark elf rolled away again but his leg caught caught in the blow of the hammer.

The dark elf did not scream. He knew he would die soon, but he would not scream. He would not let Matron Jonefire have her pleasure. She would want im to scream. He would not. He saw the hammer come down, closed his eyes, and whispered a prayer.

“Let a real God kill you Liniith, curse Liniith the queen of nightmares.” were the final words of the dark elf as the hammer smashed into his body. Tears poured out of his eyes as his body went limp. The Dirnk had claimed his latest kill.

“This is why you don't mess with me.” laughed Jonefire, who watched the whole thing along with her whole family, even the peasants, from her scrying room.

“Bring forth the sacrifice.” yelled Jonefire as her third daughter brought forth her newest son, the fourth son of the family. The twenty year old was young in dark elf age and knew he was going to die a so called noble death.

Jonefire said a quick spell and a ceremonial dagger appeared in her hand. The dagger was shaped like a vulture with the vulture head and two clawed talon feet which would be plunged into the heart of the sacrifice.

They laid the sacrifice on the so called Holy Table of Liniith and said a quick prayer to Liniith. Then Jonefire plunged the dagger into the heart of the fourth son. For she had no choice. It was written in the ancient laws of Liniith that every second, fourth, six, eighth, and so on son must be sacrificed to Liniith.

The dagger found it's way to the heart releasing a quick acting poison just in case the victim didn't die from the stab itself. The last thing the sacrifice heard was his own scream.

“It brings me no pleasure to have to kill my son.” said Jonefire, though her daughters, her husband, and most of the peasants could see through her lies. She in fact loved the thought of killing; it was her life. And the sad thing was that they didn't even care. They loved these type of ceremonies, they love it when they see that dagger plunge into another victim. They absolutely love it!

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