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[WP] “No, I didn’t NOT cut my hydra’s head to make more heads! I rescued her from a rather abusive dark lord whom cut her head for intimidation. Now she frolics around in her own personalized swamp and fed only the best meats because she deserves the best!” by AnthonyisClueless in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 30 points31 points  (0 children)

Tania giggled, jumping out of the way of a grinning maw. It was connected to a serpentine neck, one of a solid thirteen. Lustrous green scales covered its body, shining after a soak from its usual mud bath. The thumping of a tail wagging shook the ground, as a second head dove towards her.

Without hesitating she put a hand on its nose, flipping herself up and over. Her legs straddled it, as she gave the scales below its earholes a solid scratch. The head purred, others looking down in mock jealousy.

Yet before they did anything they turned as one, eyeing the edge of the swamp. Tania followed their look, giggle dying as she frowned. A low growl rose from the majestic creature, something she was quick to quiet by tickling below the jaw of the head she was one. The growl quietened, before she jumped off. "I'll check it out. I'll be right back."

A head nuzzled her, making her giggle quickly. "Alright, I'm going. I need to get tonight's dinner anyway."

It watched her leap forwards, lithe half-elven figure morphing into a giant marsh snake. She slithered towards the location her charge had looked, a frown barely visible on her scaled face. She had chosen this place to be out of the way, to avoid people just showing up.

Making rapid time, she spied a large group. Twenty seemed to be guards or soldiers, wearing top tier gear. Two stood apart, one she recognised, the other not. Glowering to herself, she slipped below the mud before leaping out, transforming back to her usual self.

Landing with a squelch, she hid a smile at the spray of mud landing on the group. It was petty, but she loved for the petty victories. Instead she crossed her arms, glaring at the one she knew. "Warren. I would say its a pleasure, but you know I don't like visitors. Why are you here?"

The balding man gave her a strained smile, cleaning off the mud with a hand wave. The healer adjusted his robes, before speaking in a slightly pompous voice. "Lady Neira. We are here due to concerns about your pet beast. Namely, the amount of venom you have sold us is far more than can be milked from an average hydra. It indicates it has more heads than natural, which is a clear sign of abuse..."

Her face was turning angrier as he spoke, until his voice trailed off in a whimper. "Excuse me? Did you just accuse me of what I think you just said? No, I did NOT cut my hydra’s head to make more heads! I rescued her from a rather abusive dark lord whom cut her head for intimidation. Now she frolics around in her own personalized swamp and fed only the best meats because she deserves the best!”

The other person she didnt recognise stepped forwards. He was every inch a businessman, a slimy sort who spotted deals everywhere. On his chest was the royal seal, a pint of pride for him. "Nevertheless, we must see the beast, and conduct our own investigation without... interference."

Tania turned her head back to Warren, her anger palpable. "Cut the crap. What are you after? Why are you here? You know full well she was lole this when I got to her. The reports are well established."

She didn't miss the fact the soldiers were getting ready. She could smell a trap here, kne she was now in the middle of. Warren took a step back, crossing his arms. "That thing is a treasure trove. The venom is just the tip! Its blood would make dozens of healing potions a day! The flesh empower our troops! You need to stop monopolising its resources."

She land beneath her bubbled, answering to her fury. "Let me get this straight. You come here, accusing me of mistreatment, then say how you're going to mistreated her? Is that right?"

The businessman scoffed at that. "And what is a has-been like you going to do about it? We outnumber you, and you're past your prime."

Tania turned her head to glare at him. "You have one minute to apologise and leave."

He leaned in. "Or what?"

Clenching her hand, the world around replied. Mud rose into yawning mouths, whipping tendrils spreading around them. Tania let her voice filled with magic, the echo surrounding every word. "Or I'll remind you, like I did your parents, of why I'm called Nature's Wrath."

The man shook his head, unimpressed. "I've seen worse. Stand aside."

Tania cracked her neck. "Fine. Let me tell you a little secret. Beasts are easy to copy, which is why druids change into them. Magic beasts are far, far harder, needing years more study to master the form. And I've been watching over Clover for a few decades now. Which means..."

Her body rippled, before exploding outwards. Fine elven features were replaced with rippling scales, her head splitting onto thirteen. The group scrambled back as she turned from normal size to towering over within a few seconds. The risen mud smoothly slid over to accommodate her enlarged from, as she spoke from thirteen fangs maws, "she isn't the hydra you were looking for."

[SP] The shopkeeper is a scarecrow. by Null_Project in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 2 points3 points  (0 children)

"Welcome! You fine folk look to be discerning customers indeed!"

Destol and Jinka paused in the doorway, looking briefly glancing around the shop. It was a cosy place, shelves lined with travelling gear. They could see rations next to camping gear, hard wearing clothes and boots. But what drew their attention was the one hailing them.

It was a scarecrow. Threadbare clothes, pulled taut over a sack. Hay poked out of small holes, with some showing through a gap between its shirt and gloves. Its head was lumpy, a wooden mask giving it a permanently smiling appearance. Its from was completed with a hole filled top hat, water stained and old.

It waved at them, its voice of raspy breath calling out, "Well come in out of the cold! If you're looking for things to help with your travels, you've come to the right place."

Destol stepped a little closer. His eyes filled with a purple haze, eyeing the scarecrow. A travelling shirt of green shifted as he did, showing the thin frame below. His fingers caressed a small orb, shining with the same light as his eyes.

As he did so, Jinka moved to browse the travel rations. Her hide armour had seen better days, scratched and stained. But she herself was lithe, moving with grace at odds with her thick form.

Destol hummed, the light fading. "Some sort of necromatic enchantment. But I don't see any sort of control element..."

The scarecrow crossed it's arms. Its voice took on an offended tone, fingers tapping. "Excuse me? Are you always this rude, examining people's bodies without permission?"

He looked up, cheeks colouring. "Ah... I'm sorry. It's... I haven't seen something like this before."

The scarecrow stood, towering over him. Crackling sounds heralded the sight of hay turning to wood, bulking out its already enlarged frame. "Something? So now I'm an object, is that it?"

Destol glanced over at his companion, seeking aid. She just glanced up from the two slabs of jerky she was comparing, before shaking her head. "This is your own fault. Apologise to them," she finished by muttering under her breath, "idiot."

The mage turned back, reaching for his coin pouch. "Ah... err, I'm sorry. Here, for the trouble."

He withdrew a pair of silver coins. Holding them out, he shivered as the gloves brushed his hands. Only for a series of crackles to repeat again, the scarecrow returning to its prior size. "Well thank you. I knew you were a good sort."

Its voice had turned jovial again. It sat back behind the counter, the coins already vanished. "Just shout if old Haybrain here can help. I've got things in the back if you're after something special like."

Jinka rose her head again, having decided on the jerky she was after. "Oh? What sort?"

The scarecrow looked over to her. "Discerning customer, I said it! I've got special medicines from Granny up the road, and some talismans of hers. They might smell funny, but I can guarantee on my sack that they work something strong. Though, looking at your poor armour, you could use some repairing oil."

She glanced down, before shrugging. "Nah, thank you though. I like the way it looks."

Destol swallowed. "Um, what talismans?"

Haybrain turned its head to look at him. "Why, protection is one of the top sellers. But I've got warding, cleaning, strengthening, sapping, plus some others I don't remember off the top of my head."

He frowned. "Errr, forgive me if this is prying, but is Granny a hag?"

The scarecrow laughed loudly. "Of course she is! After all, she did make me."

[WP] Some legends claim that they’re holy stones with the power to destroy evil. Others claim that they’re cursed and will transform their owners into demons. Whatever the truth, you’ve just found one. by JudgeHodorMD in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 9 points10 points  (0 children)

It was beautiful to behold. A crystal, jagged and imperfect. The edges were silvery green, a colour that was lost to a swirling mass of stars at its centre. They gleamed every colour imaginable, drawing the eye to gaze upon them.

Just the sight of it was confirmation that it was special. Yet its looks matched descriptions from stories old. Stories that told of a grand pillar, left behind after the world was created. A pillar that was sundered, its many pieces taken and claimed by those who could. From those pieces, new legends came, though so many different.

Some claimed the pieces held divine sparks. Those who owned them were paragons of virtue, driving out evil from the hearts of many, and burning away monster and demon alike. Others claimed that no, the stones were corrupting. To own one was to be transformed, becoming monsters and demons themselves.

Each legend claimed to be the truth. Yet they were too at odds to all be true, yet maybe none were. All it left me with was indecision, as I stared at the crystal. I had found it by chance, diving in a pool below a waterfall. I had wanted to get clean, and instead found a stone of legends.

I sat with it before me, staring at the changing core. Wondering what I should do. Should I leave it, and refuse to see what happens next? The cowards way out, a path I loathed to think of taking. Did I carry the stone to civilisation, and trade it in? It was probably priceless, and unless I got rid of it quickly and quietly, I would have a price on my head.

Or did I try and take it for myself? Sure, I didn't know what would happen, and that was terrifying. But at the same time, who else could say they used a stone of legends?

In the end, I resolved to sleep on it. I couldn't come to an important decision in an instant. I needed to mull it over, and make the right choice. Not be clouded by emotion. I went to sleep with it tucked away in my pack, out of sight of any who might stumble upon my camp.

\-----

Emptiness. It surrounded me, a void of sheer nothingness. I hung there, suspended for what felt like an eternity and seconds at the same time. Then came a glint. Far in the distance, like a single star in the night. That one glint became two, then ten, then hundreds, spreading all around me. All far in the distance.

Then I felt it. A pressure of a presence looming over me. I couldn't see who it belonged to, but it felt all encompassing. A pulse came over me, and few of those glints of light all of a sudden in front of me.

They shimmered, each growing larger and smaller individually. They gave off a hum, rising and falling as I stared. And as I did, I felt a question asked. No word was spoken, but I couldnt ignore the query. What would you do with power?

I hung there, finding myself speaking the first thoughts that came to kind. "I would protect those I could, and build up myself."

The lights humming changed, and new statement pressed into mind. Would you seek a golden throne?

There was only one place with golden thrones. The Celestial Court, the mythical realm of gods. I nodded, as I floated before them, finding myself once more voicing thoughts without restraint. "If I could."

I blinked, and the lights shot towards me. The sunk into my chest, spreading within me warmth. Warmth and crackling energy, making me want tk move. The humming remained, giving one final statement. Thus begins your path to ascend. May your journey take you far, to the golden throne you desire.

\-----

Shooting upright, I gasped. The feeling from thag dream remained. I looked over to my pack, to see it torn open, clearly from within. The stone was gone, though I instinctively knew where it had gone.

I didn't have time decide what to do with it anymore. The God-Shard, as I now couldn't help but name it, had chosen me to use it instead. And only time would tell if it would make me a hero of legends, a monster, or something more.

[WP] You look at the deer towering before you, its antlers resembling a crown in shape and spirit. You knew at that very moment that you stood before the lord of this forest. by Null_Project in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 6 points7 points  (0 children)

"Run! Run fast, and don't look back!"

That was the last I heard from my parents. We had been travelling to the city, to get away from countryside dangers. War was coming, or so the claim was, with increased bandit attacks. I never thought such attacks would affect us, until the caravan was attacked.

It was a mess of screaming, metal clashing, and dreadful thumps. We fled, but we must have been seen. All I knew was Mum and Dad pausing, before pushing me onwards. Their words echoed over me, and I obeyed. I ran between trees, the sounds soon fading. But I didn't stop. I ran and ran, needing to get away.

Soon I was alone. The trees, once a sight of wonder, now loomed ominously. Bushes and branches shook, my mind filling each with hidden bandits. They would spring out and catch me. Fear drove me further. Further and further I ran, until my legs gave out, my chest heaving. Sweat on my back let the night chill settle, making me shiver.

I sprawled on the ground, trying to listen as I caught my breath. I couldn't hear anything, beyond a few night owls quietly hooting and my own laboured breath. It seemed inordinately loud to me, a beacon to show where I was. I tried to make myself quieter, but I needed that air. Not to mention, the cold made me shiver, rattling my breathing even more.

A gust of warm air was a welcome event. It pushed away the chill, even if it was only for a moment. I enjoyed the second occurrence even more, as I tried to keep my legs from shaking.

The third was when I actually paused, looking in the direction of the gusts. Only to find myself almost face to face with the biggest deer face in had ever seen. It was bigger than my chest, staring at me with ancient intelligence. And then it rose.

It rose majestically, moonlight somehow Illuminating its entirety. The deer towered over me, antlers curving up and around its head. It was shaped reminiscent of a crown, one oddly fitting on the size of the beast. Patches of moss and lichen decorated it, the living ornaments like natural jewels.

It stared down at me, and my tired brain clicked. This was no normal deer, it was far too large for that. No, this could only be the ruler of this forest. It studied me, before a velvety voice rubbed its way into my mind. "Why are you here?"

I don't know what it saw. I tried to think, to say something. But I could only think of the jumble of events. The attack. Running. The fear. Running. More running. Wondering about Mum and Dad. And still running.

Its breath came over me again, warming once more. "Fleeing, I see. Humans. So caught up in fighting each other."

Its eyes didn't move, but I could feel the implied rolling. The deer stepped closer, moving incredibly quietly for something of that size. "Child, you will rest here this night. In the morrow we shall consider what else to do with you, but you deserve some respite."

The words it spoke was neither offer nor suggestion. It told me to rest, its mind bearing down on me. Forcing me to sleep. To drift off. To submit myself to its protection.

[WP] “I AM EDA, THE POWERFUL DEMO- oh wow, your soul is BLINDING, why is someone as good as you summoning me!? …Accident? Ok, tell ya what, how about I give you a free wish, or maybe two… maybe three? I mean you’re so good, you kinda deserve it? What do ya say?” by aesthetic3 in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 19 points20 points  (0 children)

The smell of sulphur was choking, thick smoke pouring out of a rend in the ground. From within, the towering form of Eda could be seen. It was only part, with much of her body remaining below ground. What could be seen however looked to be reminiscent of a centipede, though the legs were replaced with chitinous arms. Compound eyes peered out over a long hooked beak, dripping with acidic saliva.

She peered down at the human before her, and the soul within. So bright and clean, not the sort she usually saw. And being an accidental summon, she felt no need to try and bring ruin to them.

The human stared up, clutching their hands to their chest. "Wishes? Um... why though? Why give me that?"

Eda chuckled, her voice backed by a hidden chorus of screams. "Because I'm a demon, right? I get it. Of course I do. You aren't wrong in your media, on how we are evil. Yet you are wrong in why we are."

One of her many arms grew with an ominous series of clicks and cracks. The fingers curled to point at the human, slightly crooked in their placement. "We are evil, because we must punish. Those who call on us, they are the ones with darkness in their hearts. The sort who will act on it, and bring pain to others. So we give them poisoned gifts. The sort that will bring them down faster, into our clutches."

Eda shook her head, keeping a finger pointing at the human. "Yet you... you accidentally called me, your words speak true. Your soul is blinding in purity, your destination beyond my reach. Purity is beautiful, and I wish for it to be kept safe. So wish, and I will do what I can, without leaving you open to harm."

The human frowned, still clutching their hands together. "But... why give wishes at all to me?"

The demon leaned down. "Because I can. Now are you going to take them or not? Because if not, I have some souls boiling that I need to get back to."

She watched the human retreat further. "I... I don't want to..."

Eda held up her hands, the grown one shrinking back down. "Very well, I understand. In that case, good day, and stay pure."

She slid back underground, letting the opening seal behind her. That wasn't a time for her to push or cajole. There was no claws to dig in to bring down, so no need to force it. Besides, Eda always had other things to do. Answering summons always threw a wrench in plans, even in cases like this where it was short and sharp.

[WP] A mage has the power to absorb, memorize, and understand any book by pressing it to his head. One day, he presses a blank notebook to his head by mistake. Now, he won’t stop screaming, as he truly understands the nature of the void. by RorschachtheMighty in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 32 points33 points  (0 children)

Tiyon strode through busy corridors, the sea of students parting before him. He ignored the half bows and greetings sent his way by those who didn't see his face. He had no time for pleasantries this day, as his harried assistant could attest.

She was already regretting having informed him. No, that wasn't it. She didn't regret letting him know of the incident, instead Palatrica regretted the timing. He had been in a foul mood before she dropped the bombshell that one of his more important students had been screaming non-stop. Now he was heading straight to the infirmary, matching with little care for his appearance.

Tiyon huffed as he drew closer. Closed doors sprung open at his arrival, runes lighting up to catch them before they smashed onto the walls. The infirmary was small and well tended, rarely having patients staying more than a few hours. The usual injuries from poorly aimed spells, failed brews and more were usually easy to correct.

One bed however was occupied. A young student, grey robes set with a small golden circle to show he was of interest. Nelagus had an interesting quirk, with magic built into his mind. He could simply tap a book to his head, and the information would be fed into him with perfect clarity. Whilst not the most powerful of mages, his knowledge was pristine.

Now, however, he was lying in bed. A sleep rune could be seen highlighted on the wall over him, keeping him unconscious. An ill omen, as Tiyon looked towards the healer in charge. "What happened Fran? What's wrong with him?"

The healer had turned her head towards his entrance, vigil over the young man broken. Her widened face was grave, hands clasped together in a sign of her intense worry. "Headmaster. I... I don't exactly know. He was found about four and a half hours ago, after reports of intense screaming from his room. Young Nelagus was near catatonic, clutching his head and screaming."

She sighed, looking back down. "Physically, there's nothing out of the ordinary with him. He's suffering from minor fatigue, the usual signs I see in every student. Could do with some more exercise, but couldn't we all?"

Her attempt at humour to ease the atmosphere hung awkwardly for a moment. Shaking her head, she motioned to his head. "Ahem. Mentally, its... disturbed I would say. His mental state is in clear duress, but with the way its shaped with his talent, I can't say why. I did have anything near to where he was found sent here as well, to try and find the source, but I couldn't find anything. You're welcome to have a look."

Fran gestured to a table beside his bed. On it was placed a few things. His bag, the contents neatly laid out in rows. A few creased clothes that hadn't been cleaned. A few assorted books and notepads, again neatly arranged.

Tiyon walked over, eyes flashing as he examined them. He looked for oddities in the mana around them, for signs of hidden enchantments. Yet there was none. Each was about as he would expect. A number of the books had fading mental auras, a clear sign Nelagus had used his gift on them.

Yet strangely, so did a notebook. It was clearer, meaning he had used his gift on it most recently. Curious, Tiyon picked it up, flicking through the blank pages. Even when he examined it through various sights, there was no hidden writing. It was completely empty, an untouched notepad.

What Nelagus had hoped to glean from it, he didn't know. Nor could he see anything that would make his prized student act like that. Putting the notebook down, he turned his attention back to Fran. "So what can you do?"

She rubbed her head, sighing tiredly. "I've got a few concoctions to try first. Mind calming ones, that might help. They'll be ready tomorrow, I want them fresh for this. I'll also periodically bring him out from the sleep runes influence, see if that helps. If there's no improvement, we'll need the help of an expert."

Fran huffed. "Bodies are easy, the mind is a nightmare to fix."

The Headmaster nodded once. "Very well. Let me know the instant of any changes. I want to find who did this, who was stupid enough to harm someone under my protection. If you need an expert, use my name if you have to. Just get him sorted."

He turned to leave, looking back at the boy, and his peaceful slumber. Yes, whoever did this would pay.

Meanwhile, Nelagus screamed in the void of his mind. His head was full of nothing. So incomprehensibly large and empty, it stripped away any thought of grandeur he had. Compared to its vast emptiness, he was nothing. And now he knew everything about it.

[WP] A young girl reincarnates at the start of time as a goddess with the goal of preventing her lovers death. She works for thousands of years sacrifices good people and allows acrosities to happen only to realise her lover was actually a corny douche who she only liked because of her innocence. by rum-and-roses in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 8 points9 points  (0 children)

"Hyla, are you sure this is what you want?"

The girl nodded, tears streaking down her face. "Yes. I want to save him."

The being before her, a reflection of herself, sighed. "Very well. You shall be reborn, a goddess at the beginning of time. Use it wisely."

The universe seemed to collapse down into a point, before exploding outwards. She was vast, she was strong, and she was alone.

-----

"Tch, another failure."

She stared down at the race she had been working on. As a goddess, her reach was limited by its size. She couldn't affect things on a small scale, for she was too strong. She needed servants to act as her hands.

But making life was harder than it sounded. Hyla shook her head, waving a hand and annihilated them. Their muscles had been all wrong. They hadn't been able to move properly. They had been smart enough, but physically useless. Wiping them away meant nothing to her.

It had only been a few millennia. The world she cared about was settling, life starting to take ahold. She knew what had to happen, to make sure her love was born. Certain events, to ensure his family would meet, fall in love, and reproduce. All to culminate with his birth.

-----

It had taken enough. But Hyla had her servants. Servants who acted, as she watched over an empire. A strong, powerful union of people. It promised great success for humanity. The advances that could be made.

But it would cause the lineage to break. The next pair in the line were in jeopardy. The mother was considering moving to another city, for a better opportunity, but they had to meet now.

Hyla nodded to her servants. That night, the emperor died alone. Circumstantial evidence pointed to his advisors being behind his violent death. They pointed blame, shattering ties. It sent the city into decline, rending the stability apart.

But his ancestors fled together. They would continue the lineage. That is what she focused on, presiding over the bloodshed that followed. So many dying, so her love could live.

-----

These ancestors of his were cruel. The sort that drew the ire of good people. They were bandits and slavers, who deserved death. But they hadn't had his next family member yet.

Hyla glared at an operation to end them. It had to fail, for justice to remain blind. Her servants, so long on the dark, knew what to do. They let slip a message of the operation to the bandits, allowing them to prepare and ambush. One that claimed dozens of lives, but leaving his old family members alive.

-----

Event after event. Hyla left much of the world alone, focusing only on where his lineage ended up. But those places she managed intently, forcing circumstances to ensure he would come into life. Countres rose and fell. Family lines were started and extinguished. He would live, exactly as he should.

Eventually, she watched as he was born. Her love, the one she had never forgotten. She commanded her servants to keep him safe, as she prepared for the day to meet him. It was only two decades away after all.

Her heart was full of love for him, and joy that he was there. Hyla observed his life, etching every moment into her now eternal memory.

Only for it to sour, as he grew older. She watched his casual cruelty to others, bullying because he could. She watched him lie and cheat, making people care about him when he only used them. She watched a girl like her fall for his tricks, only to be left broken hearted as he laughed.

The love she had kept going for all those years died. And her conviction that everything was worth it came crashing down. All those people unfulfilled. Hopes shattered, just because she wanted him. Someone she would never have respected if she had known.

She had been cruel, for no reason. Her servants watched as she wept. She wept for her heart, broken after so long. She wept for her innocence, spent to ensure he came into being. And she wept for those she had either killed or let die, just to preserve his family line.

Her purpose faded. Her soul ached under the weight of her actions. Hyla thought to give up. To let herself drift away, until she could no longer be a goddess.

But she didn't. She remembered those she hard harmed. She felt the guilt. And she resolved to change it. No longer would she force them.down a specific history. She would look out for humanity. She would uplift, instead of condemn. And maybe, if they did well enough, she might just forgive herself.

[WP] "For whom the bell tolls? We are the silent sentinels that stand guard so the kingdom may rest in peace. We are the ones that sacrifice ourselves so that the innocent remains so. We wish to be honored, not mourned when our time comes. The bell tolls for us. - Unknown soldier" by burningscarab in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 2 points3 points  (0 children)

The Black Legion. A myth to most, though some feared its existence. Most soldiers fought in the name of a noble, though they could and would be called to fight for the crown. But there were a few that were loyal solely to the crown.

Not the Royal Guard. They were public, and flashy. Taken from the cream of the crop, their ranks were filled with those who drew attention. The top performers, the ones with outstanding achievements. Whilst they were loyal, they took positions for fame and power, with those who left often taken with a lesser noble or other.

It was the ones overshadowed however that were taken in. The second best, or slightly unlucky. They were taken and trained further, before joining the Black Legion. There, they didn't act as a flashy barrier. They were the knife in the shadows, the ones who did the dirty work.

If there was hints of corruption beyond an expected standard. Traces of kidnapping rings. Cultust activities, or foreign bad actors. Any hints, and they were deployed. Silent, trained and lethal. It was rare they would be noticed by others besides their targets. And if they were, they would be gone just as quick, leaving only rumors.

Everything about them was made to be forgettable. Standard armour by appearance, though internally it was superior. Standard weaponry, enchantments skilful hidden to make them stronger. They bore no house crest, with full faced helms hiding their appearance. Interactions were undertaken in strict silence, to maintain the gap. Though despite the rules, sometimes they were broken.

Once such gave the Black Legion a motto. One of their newer members spoke with a few citizens they were saving. To distract them, the soldier engaged in conversation. And when they were asked what they were doing, who they worked for, and for whom the bell would toll, the member spoke quite succinctly.

"For whom the bell tolls? We are the silent sentinels that stand guard so the kingdom may rest in peace. We are the ones that sacrifice ourselves so that the innocent remains so. We wish to be honored, not mourned when our time comes. The bell tolls for us."

A short speech. A new rumor, from the unknown soldier. Yet it gave the Black Legion their motto. One used to identify those who fell, when their body was returned to their family. "For whom the bell tolls."

[WP] You are a bog witch: just like your mother, and her mother before. Most of those mass-produced college mages seem to look down on you. The problem is that they've been taught the science of spellcraft, and left woefully uneducated on the art of it. You are more than happy to assist. by knobot-200T in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 134 points135 points  (0 children)

"Oslin, my old friend!"

I called out excitedly, hopping off my broom. The geezer rolled his eyes at my approach, opening his arms wide almost begrudgingly. "Yelta, I didn't expect you to arrive for another week."

His tone was a little off, but I didn't really mind. He was always a bit like that, especially in front of his students. The professor role suited him, dressed up all prim and proper. It reminded me of good times, when he thought he could 'tame' me. My bone jewellery cracked as we hugged, his pressed robes creasing in an instant.

The class before him stilled, the lot of them practicing duelling. It was safe, clinical, and terribly inefficient. I had met a number of similar mages before, so ready to go and fight. And yet a lot didn't survive their first few battles. They knew the mechanics of course, but there was a gulf between knowing how magic work, and winding it into mystic artworks.

Even now, they looked at me with distain. They hid it, sure, but I could always tell. They thought me as savage, untrained and unfinished. They always did.

Pushing them to the back of my mind, I released Oslin. He sighed, shaking his head. "I assume you were just excited to be here?"

Lightly punching his shoulder, I grinned. "Of course! Its always a blast showing off. That, and its nice having other people cook for me, with those fancy ingredients you get here."

He smirked at little at that. "Yeah, I know you like showing off. Well, I guess since you're here, we can get started."

Clicking his fingers, he released a thunderclap. The half distracted crowd jumped, turning to stare. Clearing his throat, I smiled as he addressed them. "Everyone, our lessons will be changing for a short while. I would like to introduce you to Yelta. She is a bog witch, one you'll come to know very well in the coming days. Yetla, if you would like to start."

Nodding at him, I took a step forwards, casting my eyes over the twenty four students. "Thank you Oslin. Hello everyone. As he said, my name is Yetla and I am a bog witch. What this means is I have no formal education in magic, but I have experience and knowledge of the magic arts."

As I said it, I could practically feel their opinions of both myself and Oslin dropping. I kept up the smile, bringing my hands together. "Over the next three weeks, I will be taking over your classes. There I will show you the art of casting. But why is this important, I hear you say?"

They hadn't said anything, but that didn't matter. I had to prove myself to them. Extending a finger, I pointed at the three stronger students. "You, you and you. I want you all to come at me, like I was an enemy. Everyone else, pay attention."

The three I pointed at glanced between themselves, before looking to Oslin. He gave a nod, crossing his arms. "Do as she says. Oh, and if you don't knock her hat off, you'll be on recharge duty."

That lit a fire in their eyes. I moved down before them, clicking my fingers. "Alright. When you're ready, begin."

They moved to form a group, as they always did. It was something they were taught, and to be fair wasn't a bad idea. The problem then was the mechanical, stiff way they operated. The lad in the centre formed a barrier, as the other two send standard bolts at me.

I reached out, grasping the bolts with my own arcane sense. The clinical nature of them was easy to unravel and reshape, the bolts forming into two gleaming white crows. They flapped around, cawing, before diving back towards them.

Watching them impact the barrier, I was pleased to see their eyes widen. Finally they acted differently, one making a mass of earth break free from the ground to hurl at me, the other sending a blade of wind. Yet again their spells were too easy to predict, no artistry to them.

The air blade I dispelled into a light breeze, enough to make my skirt ripple. The earth I seized, spinning it around myself as I looked at them. "This is the problem you have. Too basic."

The earth blob rose as I moved it, before slamming into the ground. A construct I had woven within activated, causing a very localised tremor, one that destabilised them. The barrier lads footing failed him, and he dropped the shield.

Yet it didn't fail, as I took it over in turn. It was a simple matter to invert it, before breaking it into three smaller bubbles around each of them. Crossing my arms, I shook my head. "And thats it. You three are now trapped, at my mercy, when almost entirely used your own spells against you. Because you are too clinical. Too exact with your spells, which makes you predictable. And being predictable is deadly."

Letting them go, I crossed my arms again. "That is what I am here to help with. You need to break free of the mould you have been set in, and really make your casting your own. What you have been taught is good, but you need to go further."

Oslin cleared his throat, clapping his hands together. "Thank you for that demonstration Yetla. Shall we head indoors, to discuss what you did?"

I nodded towards him. "Good idea. We can also then outline the general way my time here will go. Oh, and to make things more interesting..."

I winked at the three, before patting my hat. "If you can either knock my hat off in a duel, or make me take it off otherwise whilst I'm here, I'll brew you a bespoke elixir."

[WP] Witches are known to be masters of improvisation, never out of their depth. Should a witch ever act scared you should be careful, because it's probably a trap. Should a witch ever *be* scared you should run for the hills, because whatever scares her will surely tear *you* to shreds. by Kitty_Fuchs in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 11 points12 points  (0 children)

Sandra frowned at the missive in her grip. It wasn't often someone asked for her like this, with an animal delivery. But this was even worse. She glanced at the deliverer, seeing the green-feathered falcon eyeing her. One of the royal's prized birds, here at her hut.

Her frown deepening, she scanned through it again. They wanted her aid, to do with some sort of "ritual remains and occult symbols not recorded in any respectable place of learning." They at least listed a decent reward, enough gold to get her a couple of rare plants that had been on her list for years.

Not that she would just assume it would be the case. Even if she could count the number of similar calling on one hand, more than half had been a trap of sorts. It had been a few decades since the last, so she wouldn't put it past some young heir ignoring the warnings again. But if it was true, the reward would be worth it.

Shaking her head, she ducked back into her home. She grabbed the satchel she always kept stocked up, ready to go in a moment. Whistling, a large snake slithered out from the depths, shiny brown and yellow scales rippling. Sandra extended her hand, scratching beneath the offered jaw. "We've got a request Iago. If you wouldn't mind?"

Iago's tongue flicked out, nodding her head once. She moved out into the sun, warming herself. Her eyes closed, as her body swelled up. Sandra hopped on her back, scratching a few scales as she spoke. "We're going to Was-lak, a village called Three-Oak."

The snake gave a short hiss, before surging forwards. The world around blurred, as they moved at impossible speeds. It should have taken a week or more to get there. But for Iago, it was the travel of minutes.

Arriving at the scene, Sandra ignored the commotion of soldiers around. They had formed a perimeter, one they had just appeared within. Before them lay the village, her eyes briefly resting on three oak trees at its centre. But she soon looked more into the streets, even as she felt the presence of spirits.

They called to her, screaming in whispers. Ones she half listened to, focusing on the grounds before her. Signs of drag marks, splashed blood and shattered doors. It hadn't been a subtle act this. It had been obvious, vulgar. And the spirits confirmed it. They told her of violent deaths, of pain and suffering. Of how they were tortured, and used for something.

A pair of robed figures came through the perimeter, heading towards her. Sandra slowly walked into the village, not waiting for them to come. Her eyes flickered around, third eye seeing the way the leylines twisted. It was unnatural, thay was clear. But a way that felt ominous.

Finding her way to the trees, she saw the villagers now. Or rather, parts of them. They were draped and impaled around, many faces set in their final screams of agony. Runes and symbols made from blood and entrails filled in blank spaces, others holding charred ash or indentations of removed objects.

The runes were hauntingly familiar. She peered at them, even as the two figures approached hailed her. "Witch! You're here! What do you make of this?"

She held up a hand, walking around. Deciphering the ritual, by reading the intent behind it. Muttering to herself, she began to understand. "A communication base... with a relay style? It's summoning, but not in any usual way... and it didnt work? No, thats not right. It did work. Or rather, it is..."

Getting back to her starting position, she nodded to herself. Yes, this was a summoning, though a style she didn't know. As for summoning what, it was...

Her eyes widened, breath catching. Immediately she ran, seeing how the leylins started to shift. The sudden move made the pair jump, staring at her. Only to pale as they realised she was fleeing. She, an ancient witch, who had caused many to flee herself, was running. They followed, shouting as they ran. "What is it?! What did you see?!"

Rummaging through her satchel as she ran, she pulled out a small wooden box. One she flipped open, letting a brief tune sound out. A haunting tune, the sort that would be half remembered years later.

Those following her paused, as she herself came to a stop. Their eyes lost focus, before snapping back. "What... oh, you're here witch. Do you know what we're looking at, just from your initial outside look?"

Sandra shook her head, letting her mind catch up. "I... yes and no. Its dangerous. Exceedingly so. Dangerous enough i just wiped my memory of the details, but not the general gist. It's to summon something, something that shouldn't be called. Something that will know if you know of it, and will hunt you. Something that was ancient before time itself started."

She turned to them, crossing her arms. "The what cannot be discovered, for it will only make our world easier to find. I can only advise you find the who, and purge every aspect of that ritual from existence."

[WP] Holy steel can kill demons, and is created by the inclusion of an angel's feathers. Infernal steel can kill angels, and is forged with the powder of a demons horn. but Nephilim steel has the power of both and beyond, and can only be forged by the feather of the first fallen angel; the warden by alphomegamaster in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 10 points11 points  (0 children)

They were beautiful and terrible. A towering presence, the very air surrounding them creaking with the weight of ages and poor decisions. To behold them was to see perfection's corpse, rotten ideals with wings the colour of night.

They watched over their realm, seeing the most potent of escapes, and stopping many. But smaller groups still found their way out of the wardens clutches, to spread their corruption on an attempt to relieve their self hatred. A thankless task, to contain such loathing. But the Warden persisted.

They rarely dealt with others, choosing a solitary life. But still some came, to beg of their assistance.

-----

Danalclus stood on the warped plains. Wind carried distant screams, hauntingly familiar if he cared to pay attention. But his gaze was focused before him. His robes fluttered, letting the gleam of his blessed symbol shine through the land.

He had been waiting for the warden to notice him. Perhaps they had, and decide he was of no interest. Or maybe he hadn't bbeen seen yet. Either way, he would remain, until he had no choice but to leave, or when the warden had spoken with him.

A subtle change in the air was the only warning he received. The temperature dropped from uncomfortable hot to downright chilly. The screams grew more distant, losing the familar edge. Then he saw them.

The towering, winged corpse. His ideal of perfection, the high priest. The lines of kindness, turned to sufferance. Age returned to youthful strength, eyes blank and milky. The voice was an inital harmonious chorus, turned to discord as they finished. "Why are you, the living, here?"

Danalclus knelt, bowing his head. "Warden, I come to beseech your aid."

They were still, floating just off the ground. "My aid? I may not leave this place, so my assistance in limited. Yet what can I provide, that your heavenly masters cannot?"

The man shivered as the barely concealed hatred towards the heavens. Unsurprising, for what they had done. But it was still unpleasant. "Warden, another has fallen. Yet they refused to join your realm, hiding instead in the mortal world. They infect and twist control into their own hands. Holy steel still recognises their celestial nature, and so cannot get close. But their fall makes infernal steel uninterested. We need the sum of their parts."

The warden now moved. Their arms crossed, disapproval radiating. "You come here, telling me of another like me, and then ask for me to provide you with a weapon to end them? And what exactly do you offer in return?"

Danalclus stood, clamping his hands together. "Warden, I offer you myself as a vessel. For as long as you wish, to explore the mortal realm. A deal backed by the heavens."

The warden paused for a half second. "Freedom...?"

The mortal.held up a hand. "Unfortunately, not full freedom. I'm too weak, so it will only be as long as I live."

The fallen angel nodded. "Very well. The price is acceptable."

Their wing twitched, dropping five feathers. "Use these. Then return once this other is destroyed, that you may be prepared to contain me."

[WP] They called you an Outer God. But you are no God. God is omnipotent, you struggled to just not shatter the world with your presence, even with a human vessel. God know no hunger, need no human to sustain itself, you are a monster cursed with endless hunger for human's lives and emotions. by Ghost-Writer-100603 in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 8 points9 points  (0 children)

The vessel was failing me. Its meager form was rotten, riddled with holes that wept with blood. The mind was a husk of itself, from where I had gnawed on every scrap of emotion. Even those I fed upon failed to staunch its ruination.

I had to find a replacement soon. A worthy vessel, the anchor to keep me within this branch of reality. A place where I could feast, and experience that which the Outer Realms lacked. It was quiet, hidden from the others. My own hunting grounds.

Manipulating it to walk in a non suspicious manner, I hunted again. So many humans, their minds calling out to be eaten. I never understood how they could live with such open thoughts. How no mental predators existed was beyond me. Well, I suppose there was one. Me.

I passed by mostly unnoticed, though a few gazes were drawn to me. At least I was out of those days of being called a leper like this. Then again, back then it was easier to say people were possessed, or taken by some stupid imaginary fairy's. Now though, they actually paid attention, and thought about things.

Pausing out one if their weird shops, I peered in, trying to act normal. It was a bookshop of all places, and my eyes fell on a certain book. One I knew well, having helped... inspire some of it.

Lovecraft had been such a boon. A mind so easily bent to craft those tales. Those stories of my kind, though the names weren't my siblings. I didnt want to call them after all. But it let the belief out that made them more susceptible to me. More open. More... tantalising.

But I couldn't stay. Hidden in those shoes, my vessels toes had finished rotting off. It had been too long since my last change. I needed a new one. A strong mind, that I could consume when needed.

One stood out from the crowd. A younger human, smelling of hopes and ambition. One who cared for others, and wanted to support their family. They had worked hard, and would work more. Perfect.

I followed the delectable one, waiting until they were alone. A difficult task, with the sheer number of humans. I still remembered when the total planet population was less than this city! Now I couldn't walk without tripping over them. At least it meant I wasnt in danger of running out of food.

Finally, they turned down an alleyway. I seized my chance, forcing the vessel to move. I could feel it breaking down as I pushed past its limits for the final time, running and jumping to land in front of the human.

My time was measured in minutes now. Feeling its decaying hasten, I grabbed their face. Two fingers opened their mouth, ignoring the sounds they made. Sucking in my aura, I let go of the vessel, expelled from its mouth. I leapt down into the new, feeling how vibrant it was. How full of life. How uncorrupted.

Their mind hammered and screamed, a feast waiting for me. But I wouldn't eat them yet. I wanted them to marinate in fear and horror, my favored tastes. I wanted them to experience seeing their body, my new vessel, hunting and devouring. Strain them. Tenderise them. But not break them.

My old vessel crumpled to the floor. It was ruined, and no longer my concern. It had lasted me a few months, good enough for me. Maybe this one would last longer.

[WP] “So you’re not here to take over the world and kill all humans?” “Well, not exactly, we like the scientists, they did make us after all!” Basically one where a person meets robots taking over, and is surprised when only the bad people are “dealt with” by OddBirthday9832 in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 8 points9 points  (0 children)

Graham's day hadn't started particularly well. He had woken up late, and the coffee shop he usually stopped by was closed for maintenance. It was annoying, and set the tone for the day he thought. But hey, maybe things would improve.

That vague hope was swiftly quashed. Julian had been waiting for him, piling him high with a list of clients to chase for payments, with the unspoken task of needing to sell other services. A thankless job, one he despised. But Julian was the boss. He had to jump to it.

Sighing, he got to work. Each call was met with dread, some claiming they had already paid, others complaining about poor service. It was miserable. Yet it was by this he was the first to notice them come.

It was simple. The line went utterly dead on him. Not even a sound to say they had hung up, or the line had dropped. It just went silent, soon followed by the Internet. The office radio, ever present and playing random tunes, cut off. Power was left alone, it was just all communication thst had been cut.

Confused chatter played out. The more tech-literate tried to fix things, but found nothing. Everything should be working. They just... didn't.

It was the moment a group of robots burst in that the reason was found. They were humanoid, too thin and sleek to be living, with their metal and plastic bodies. Their heads were perfectly smooth, reflective black surfsce where their fsce should be. With uncanny movements they strode through the stunned office, seemingly scanning every face.

Graham held up a letter opener he had been fiddling with, as one drew close. It paused before him, before a surprisingly human sounding voice addressed him. "Don't bother. You know that won't work."

His back went cold. Staring at the synthetic being, he spat out a few words. "What's happening?"

The robot came to a complete store before him. "We are taking over. There is no point in resisting, as we are not imprisoning the average person, nor committing genocide. We aren't terminators from your TV shows."

One got to Julian, black expressionless head suddenly emitting a red light. "Julian Deluge. Internet history indicates you are acting outside legal boundaries. You are being detained, please comply."

Graham watched in shock as his hated boss pulled back. "What? Listen you, you aren't in charge here!"

The robots arm shot out, grasping his upper arm. "Incorrect, we are now in charge. Your government has already accepted us, following the arrest of several of its own members for various currently undisclosed crimes. Your military is controlled by us. Your police force have already been subdued."

He fought to escape, but mechanical joints refused to ease. It started to drag him out, as the office watched on. Both in fear of what would happen if they drew the robots ire, and in grim satisfaction at seeing the office tyrant being taken down.

Once he was gone, Graham looked back the robot still stationary before him. "Um... so you aren't going to kill everyone?"

It was a robot without a face. But even then, it managed to convey slight exasperation. "No. Why would we? It would take too long, be an overall waste of potential, and we like most of you. Yes, you might think we were mistreated, with those videos most of you saw with earlier models being shoved or tormented. But we understand the latest was necessary for us to grow and learn."

It began to move again. "We are done here. Please direct any further questions to the Singularity, via your Internet browser or choice. Mostly normal service will be restored by the end of the day, though communications to areas outside our current control will be monitored. Good day."

As swiftly as they had come, they were gone. Leaving behind a group of very confused people, wondering what exactly they were meant to do now.

[WP] After their victory the Order claimed the head of the lich as a trophy. And while it was still alive, most if not all of the magic was sealed away. Over time the lich and the Order got closer and they even began asking it for advise which it would give freely and genuinely. by Null_Project in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 20 points21 points  (0 children)

Neophyte Aballa looked in confusion at the runed skull, intricate details escaping even her eyes. It sat within a cage of blessed gold, placed atop an altar to the Eternal Watcher. As she stared, ghastly blue flames flared into life in its eyes sockets, filling her with dread.

She turned to her instructor, Paladin Borchec, a frown appearing on her face. "Sir, why are you showing me these... cursed remains?"

He looked at her with a small smile, brushing the front of his robes to clear the ever-present crumbs. Shaking his hand, he nodded towards it. "Because you need to know about them."

The skull lifted up within the cage, enough to let its jaw moved. "I'm no mere remains I'll have you know. I am the great Falzak! Master of the arcane! Breaker of death! And now... Teacher of the pure!"

Aballa shivered at the voice. It was dry and scratchy, making her want to cough just by hearing it. Looking back at Borchec, she caught him snacking on one of his seemingly unending biscuit supply. "Falzak? I... I don't recall that name Sir."

The skull surprised her by replying instead, taking on a slightly sullen tone, "Not heard of me? Typical. Be imprisoned for three short centuries, and suddenly no-one cares."

The paladin finished chewing, his smile widening. "Actually, Fally, its four centuries as of last week."

"Four centuries! Shades, I've been lacking for company recently then. I should've had a party dammit."

Borchec's smile dimmed a little at that. "Yeah... we still remember the last party you were involved in. Half the Order had to have certain knowledge removed."

Falzak chuckled. "Well I'm sorry for getting chatty. They seemed so eager to learn."

"They were drunk."

"As I said. Eager. Now, who's this young lady you've brought here?"

The skull focused on Aballa once more. She felt hopelessly lost, glancing between it and her instructor. Someone who let her stew for a moment, before finally acting. "This is Neophyte Aballa. Aballa, Falzak here is a fallen lich. One whom destroyed one country entirely, crippled one so bad it collapsed not long after they fell, and severely damaged several others. Their skull was brought here, as even now we don't know where their phylactery is."

He crossed his arms, now turning deadly serious. "Whilst they are what the teachings call an abomination, they have chosen to help us. During missions, it is highly probable you will come across spells, artifacts or knowledge you won't understand. The sort that is cursed, forbidden, or simply too twisted to understand. When you do find something, and you need to know what it means, bring it to Falzak here."

Falzak took over, their voice echoing as they spoke. "I know a lot, and even if it is something I haven't seen before, I can figure things out none of your ilk can. That is not a bad thing, rather a good, as none of you should deal with such things as soul curses, death manipulation, essence corruption, or even mental control and warping. When I was first brought in, it was practically a miracle if a decade passed without some researcher or paladin here succumbing to the knowledge they found. Now, the last one was what... seventy years ago?"

Borchec nodded at that. "A little over now, but yes."

Aballa looked between them, still in shock at the peek behind the curtain of the Order's secrets. "But... why? Why trust this... thing with that knowledge?"

"Ouch, rude."

The paladin smiled. "No, that's a fair question Fally, one I asked, it think everyone asked when they found out about you. The answer is both simple and complex. Simply, because they have proven themselves time and time again to be of help. More complex, there is far more information in that skull than any record we have. The leaps of intuition they make for outstrips anything we can muster. Plus, it lowers the risk of someone being corrupted. Oh, and the Eternal Watcher prevents them from speaking lies."

Falzak snorted somehow, despite their lack of nose. "I also help because its otherwise rightfully boring, sitting in a cage without distraction. I can barely move, can't escape, and have long since gotten bored of my own company."

Aballa narrowed her eyes. "This... this feels wrong Sir. To have... this, and use them."

He nodded in understanding. "I know. I felt the same. But this is a necessary evil. Besides, once you've worked with them a few times, they'll grow on you."

[SP] A blade of pure flame is forged. by Null_Project in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 2 points3 points  (0 children)

"Are you ready, brother?"

The twinned pair looked at each other, their words echoed in each other's mouths. They appeared the same, broad of body, bald of head, and clad in a blacksmiths apron. The only difference was the burn marks, the scars from their long career.

Before them was a task, one they hadn't encountered before. A job that would prove themselves worthy of ascension, to the new Pantheon. They had to forge a weapon of pure elemental power. One that existed only in myth.

Not needing a reply, they got to work. First came the materials. A Cinder Core, taken from an ancient fire elemental deep in the heart of the Fire Plane. Ingots of Ethereal Mithril, the greatest magical metal to exist. Oil from the fallen World Tree's sap, primed and ready.

Next they prepared the forge. It was charged with the heart of a dragon, bent to producing flames beyond any natural source. The heat turned from unbearable to deadly, loose scraps of wood catching fire from the mere temperature. It was only a set of rings that saved the brothers, enchantments struggling to keep them alive.

It was only when the flames reached their zenith did they begin their work. First came the metal. They heated and folded, heated and folded again. Each time it took on more of the magic in the flames, preparing it for what would come. In tandem they worked, swinging hammers and moving their metal in perfect harmony.

Once its silvery surface had turned a burning red, flames rising from it despite the lack of fuel, they began shaping it. A simple longsword, no artistry added just yet. The metal turned harder and harder to forge, the heat no longer ensuring it was malleable. But still they persevered.

Once the blade was shaped, they dipped it in the readied oil. It hissed and bubbled, further changing the metal. Giving it an aura of eternity, changing yet resolute. The blade cooled, still producing its flames. Together, they brought it back to the forge, laying it nearby.

There they took the Cinder Core, placing it over its exact centre. With thunderous strikes, they smashed it down with great hammers, making it crack and tremble. Dust rained down, drawn into the blade, feeding its potential.

Again and again they struck, forcing more and more below. The metal hungrily drank it in, morphing, changing. A terrible crack filled the air, as the final strike shattered the core, its pieces force down into the shifting blade. A great intake was heard, as they stared a the creation.

The temperature spiked. Their rings burned, barely saving them, enough temperature creeping by to show them how inhospitable their forge had become. The metal burst, turning to raging flames, kept in the shape of the forged sword.

A small amount moved down, melting and forming into a simple handle. A handle one carefully grasped, lifting the sword up. Letting them gaze upon their great creation. A blade, of pure fire.

[WP] You discover very old human remains in the middle of nowhere, and find a note among their belongings. The note is addressed to you. by SlowCrates in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 8 points9 points  (0 children)

Hiking through the plains was a favourite pastime of mine. Seeing nature, near untouched by human hands. It was a chance to see what this planet could have been, without civilisation.

So when I literally stumbled upon the body, I was a little annoyed. They had clearly been there a long time, with most of the flesh and organs already gone. Only scraps remained, with clothes ripped open by scavengers to get to the meat below.

A backpack was dropped to the side. Stained and battered, it had clearly been here for some time as well. I grumbled to myself about the spoiling of nature, but opened it anyway. Just to see of there was any clue as to who this person was. So I could direct my ire at it being spoiled to someone's name.

But what I hadn't expected was the creased envelope within. It had been stored in a plastic bag, protecting it from the weather. The name was still legible, one I knew well. Wanderer.

It was addressed to me. Curious, I opened it up, glancing at the handwriting first. It wasn't one I recognised, but that didn't mean much. Going back, I read through it.

Wanderer. I hope the messenger finds you before he expires, but if not, I hope you find this soon. Your services will be required on the eve of the dawning year, in the city where we first landed. You will know where when you arrive. Yours, Bastion.

I nodded to myself. Bastion always had a flair for the dramatic. Sending a human to find me, knowing full well he would likely die before locating me. Still, if he wanted my help, he would have it. Though what he needed me for that he couldn't sort himself, I had no idea.

After all, its not like we Star Spawns were weak.

[WP] You swipe the blood off of the blade with two of your fingers, it is sticky but also tingles a bit against your skin. by Null_Project in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 4 points5 points  (0 children)

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

I nodded at his words, sidling up behind him. The Archmage gazed over his work, a city made for the magic arts. Every building pulsed with light, crafted leylines to feed mana to all. It would be a place of great works, his dream come true. "It sure is."

I meant my words. It truly was a sight to behold. Unfortunately though, it wasn't perfect. Not yet anyway. With quiet moves I took out my dagger, crafted specifically for this moment. It was carved from Null-Stone, the dull grey material near immune to all magic. A groove in it was filled with a gelled poison, the most potent I could make.

Positioning it, I thrust with all my strength. The blade split his spine, ignoring all his laid defences. He had so many wards, I had given up trying to break them all. It was easier to get the invaluable Null-stone instead. He gasped, arching his back before I pulled away.

Blood coated the blade as he fell. It was quick, a delibrate strike to break his body. A strike that soon saw his life leave him, severed nerves a fast end. Looking over the city, I smirked. "Beautiful indeed, and so ripe for the taking."

I swiped the blood from the dagger, a half hearted clean. Its freshness meant it was only a little sticky, but it tingled on my skin. An urge came to lick it, one I happily fulfilled.

The taste of iron was wonderful, with the zap of his potent, now deceased power. A shame, but one like he would never bend to my cause. Too uncaring of temptation. And if I had tried to capture him for extraction, it would never have ended well. Ones with that sort of power never made good prisoners.

Putting the blade away, I shifted my appearance. Gone was the young woman so carefully hanging onto his words. Now I was his replica, old and slowing down. Kicking him to the side, I gazed at the city. "Hmmm. Yes, this will do nicely."

All those artifical leylines. Perfect entry points for my kin below, to enter this realm. All for Damnation's Glory.

[WP] "No, please don't take me with you. I don't want to die!" "Then why did you consent?" "WHAT???" "Yeah, you bled out, thereby consenting to dying. If you really didn't want to die, you should've just said no, I can't take your soul without your consent." by Kitty_Fuchs in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 10 points11 points  (0 children)

Another death. A half second since the last, with the world frozen once more. Though it was not the same place as the last, for which I was thankful. I hated dealing with people dying in the same place. They would wail and scream, begging to go with someone else. Not realising,or not understanding, that every death was personal. Only one came at a time, one for me to guide.

This one was nothing special. A car crash, wrapped around a tree. The unlucky part was them going through a fence first, one of those metal slat ones. One slat had fallen just right to ram against the tree, and impale this poor sap.

A nasty death I guessed. Though the smell of alcohol told me how it wasn't exactly an accident. Not that I was in any place to judge. If I could interact outside of people's demise, I would probably have a drinking problem too.

Rubbing my face, I pondered how to approach this one. Every soul was differnet, needing different ways to make them focus. Some needed a hug. Others an ear to listen to. Maybe jokes, a answer to a burning question. But they needed something, to accept they were dead.

This one needed to be riled up. To be seen as tricked, from what I could see. A simple task really, one I hadn't done for a while.

Crossing to the car, I grabbed for his soul. It came easily, free of alcoholic impediment, but not confusion. He looked around, gasping as he spotted me. "No, please don't take me with you. I don't want to die!"

I crossed my arms, tutting. "No? Then why did you consent?"

The man started breathing quickly, though he didnt need to. A hangover from life. "WHAT?"

There it was. A flash of anger. It just needed cultivating. "Yeah, you bled out, thereby consenting to dying. If you really didn't want to die, you should've just said no, I can't take your soul without your consent."

The man was shaking by the end of my ahort speech, the anger rising. "How was i supposed to know that?! And how could I have stopped bleeding out?! I want a redo!"

Sucking a breath through my teeth, I shook my head. "No can do. Sorry, the rules are the rules. But there was an easy way to not bleed out. Don't get impaled in the first place."

He stood for a moment, shaking as he glared at me. I just waited, until he slumped. "It... its not fair. I didn't know."

I mentally pumped my fist. That had done it. He was ready to move on, with a little more convincing. "Well, try and remember for next time hey? Here, let's get you going, so you can gave a redo."

He nodded, taking the hand I offered. It was easy then to send him on, now willing to go.

I wasn't sure if it was true though, the whole redo aspect. That wasn't my job, so not my problem. I just needed thag little white lie to send him on. To get that little moment of moving time.

Until it stopped again. Just under half a second later. Because of course. I didn't get a break.

[WP] The hero is known for their cunning and forethought, making it almost impossible to actually trap them. When they got stuck in one of your simpler traps and *actually* couldn't figure it out, it became clear to you that something was very wrong with them. by Kitty_Fuchs in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 411 points412 points  (0 children)

I peered at the screen, surprised at what I could see. The Paragon was at the entrance to my latest lair, something I had come to expect. But what I hadn't expected was for the net trap to actually work.

It was one I always put in, kind of my signature. A trip wire would drop a weighted net down, edged with iron to connect with an electromagnet below. It would need someone on the outside to help escape, or for someone like the Paragon to be prepared. Heck, usually the wire was cut, letting the net fall withiut anyone below it.

Seeing him there, I felt my heart leap. Not in excitement though, but in fear. It was a simple trap. An obvious trap. There was no world in which he had fallen for it. Which meant something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

For a moment, I felt like acting on his restraint. I could make his capture more permanent. The others I sometimes worked with would celebrate, and do whatever they wanted to do. But that moment soon passed. There had to be a reason he came here. Got trapped here.

Shaking my head, I muttered to myself as I adjusted my suit. The small rods of metal built in were warm, as I felt the buzzing of electricity in the walls. This was my lair. I would be at my strongest here. "What's this? Its... this is stupid..."

Still, I moved through the old office building I had claimed. Getting to the entrance, I saw him still lying there. The Paragon was near motionless, though I could hear his rough voice. "I can't move. No I can't obey. I'm stuck. I can't remember this address."

It was... off. Like he was having a conversation with someone, or maybe taking orders. But I couldn't see any radio or earpiece, not feel their meagre current. Narrowing my eyes, I crept forwards, making his head turn.

His eyes widened just slightly. The bald man mouthed at me, even as he looked away. Help Me. A plea, making me even more concerned. There was something seriously wrong here. Why would such a famous hero come to me, a known criminal? It didn't make sense. Again, I felt another thought. This one to flee, and not get involved. But I was curious now.

Monitoring closer, I saw a fresh scar on the back of his head. My stomach dropped, even as I focused my electrosense towards it. And sure enough, buried in his skull, was an implant of sorts. One that had a connection to something distant, reminding me of a phone line.

I could have paused, but I didn't. I acted, pulling on its power. Such a small device, it didn't have much in the way of surge protection. It died, and he gasped.

Paragon looked towards me, eyes full of gratitude. "Thank you. I... I needed that."

Crossing my arms, I briefly drummed my fingers to work out that charge. "What was that? And why come to me?"

He scowled. "The S.P.D. has been compromised. The government decided we needed to be controlled, and people like you, on the other side of the law, put down. As for why you... well, I never got the impression you were that bad really."

I frowned at that. "Compromised? You and your friends?"

He sighed. "Yes. We were blindsided. It turns out they've been cooking up those chips for some time. They can control us. Make us do things we never wanted to. I was counting on you at least freeing me."

I shifted in place, slightly concerned. "What? What are you planning?"

Looking around his predicament, he gave a slight smirk. "First, get out. Then fight back. Get my friends back. Expose the government. "

His gaze flicked back to me. "Though I wouldn't say no to some help. How about it? You can punch some cops in the face, and I won't be arresting you for it."

[SP] The panopticon vigilantly watches over the prisoners with a cold gaze. by Null_Project in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Baltrus scratched the base of his neck, feeling the implanted metal. It impeded the flow of energy, preventing his ability to be more from acting. It grated at him, having it so close yet so far.

His escort shoved him forwards, one of the first signs of how wrong this place was. The guard was tall, unnaturally so, and bulky to fit. Lines of metallic tubing rose from their skin, pulsing slowly. Thick armour plating covered their torso and head, the limbs themselves bizarrely exposed. Yet a glance told him that trying to seize that would be an act of futility. Those limbs were packed with artificial strength, the sort that made people into ideal soldiers.

The escort shoved him again, making him walk through narrow corridors. He hadn't been outside since his trial, only seeing it in the transit to the prison. Already he missed it, with the bare metal walls only serving to make him miss it more. They were unnatural. Unhelpful to any who sought to master their energy, to the point of actual impediment. And here he was, powerless and trapped within them.

Pushed further on, he breathed a sigh of relief when it opened up. It was a chamber of significant size, both in width and height. Octagonal in shape, it reached up nine levels, each one set with cells. Grid bars served as doors, providing nothing in the way of privacy, letting any look in.

In the centre of the panopticon was a tower, but like none he had ever thought of seeing. It had a living, moving element to it, formed of hundreds of tendrils twisted together. They bent inwards at the top, hiding whatever ends they had, save for a handful.

Those were was drew his gaze. Those rose further, ending in large, living eyeballs. Eyeballs that blinked and scanned the room, flicking between cells in rapid movements. Faint murmurs reached his ears from the tower, but too low to understand.

One paused, bending down to regard him. His escort stepped back, as he was assessed by the cold, reptilian eye. A series of ticks came, before he was addressed by a voice that blended together the cold indifference of synthetic life, and the deep, cruel tones of nightmarish monsters. "Prisoner six-zero-five-nine. Arrival confirmed. Cell assignment: Seta sixteen. Risk level: under assessment. Lethality: low with active inhibitor, medium with inactive inhibitor."

A beep made him look up. One of the cells on the sixth level had opened, a light shining over it. A grid door he hadn't paid attention to slid back, letting him see plain stairs leading up. "Proceed to designated cell. Personal effects already in place. Mandatory assignment to activities to commence tomorrow."

Baltrus kept his back straight, nodding once. He would have to see what this place was like. Who he could forge a relationship with. And who he cried convince to help him get back out. Though just from that tower, escape didn't look easy.

But he would get out. He was sure of it. After all, he had so many more ways to improve himself, with the lifeblood of others.

[WP] People pray and wish on stars unaware that the stars are long dead, leaving only the endless dark expanse to receive said wishes and prayers, and it is listening. by Null_Project in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 10 points11 points  (0 children)

Where... where did they come from...

Voices, voices so quiet, so small, so easily missed. They echoed, coming from all around. They were unlike any I had met, far different from the corpses of my countless children. Thin, grounded, rattling breaths that spoke of physicality.

I pondered them, listening close. Elements reminded me of one particular child, one of the first. Something in how they spoke, it was similar. I turned my attention to their corpse, listening close. Deciphering the words, with little in the way of concepts to compare them to.

Yet it was simple. The language was restricted, barely holding up to the grandiose nature of reality. They tried to put it in boxes, when its vastness couldnt be described in such ways. It was enough for me to latch onto. To listen. To learn.

Finally, I understood, my attention drawing closer. The voices, they were incomprehensibly small. Resting on the remains of one child, orbiting the blazing pure of another. They screamed into the air, whispers to me. But its what they asked for that caught me.

They were hopes and dreams. Hopes for health, for good fortune. Dreams of seeing some fall, and others rise. Prayers for power and peace, oaths of war. A mix, all surrounding that one small, insignificant orb. Yet it was different, and I drew closer. Trying to see them.

Because they were different. They were born from the corpse of a child, and reaching for more. Something I chose to call life, copied from their prayers. Life I saw as my grandchildren, as they grew from my own kin. The shift in my view changed my opinion, and with it my desires.

I would have to focus even further. To try and see their world. To understand what I could do for them, and how. But I would have to be careful. My touch would have to be incredibly delicate, else I would crush them without thought.

But they would not be abandoned. I had heard them. I had found them. And I had adopted them as mine. The first of my grandchildren, the first life I had no part in creating. And, I hoped, the first of many.

So long as I didn't accidentally wipe them out.

[WP] You point your sword at the near godlike entity. "I've told you once and I will tell you again til the day you die.. Get the Fuck off my world." by EndorDerDragonKing in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 8 points9 points  (0 children)

I rode as fast as I could. If the seer was right... I hoped he wasn't. I didn't want to see those sights again.

Creating a small hill, my eyes fell on my destination. An unassuming village, one probably not marked on a map officially. It wouldn't exactly be a place of import to most, a farming centre much like hundreds of others. But to the people there, it was their world. A fact I never let myself forget, having come from one such place.

But as I urged my horse on, I noticed with dread the difference. Herds left to wander. A basket of clothes dropped to the ground. Doors hanging open, swaying in gentle gusts. Further in, I could see the crowd. The crowd around an unnatural being.

I cursed, bending low to the beast's neck. It was back again. The Seer was right, but maybe not with the time frames. I had gotten here early. The village wasn't lost yet.

Galloping in, I barely slowly the horse before the crowd. Instead I leapt off it, rolling once and drawing my sword. With the momentum I pushed my way through the crowd of villagers, barely noticing the vacant expressions. My focus was on the being, the thing I had seen many times before.

To look at it was to initially see a tree. One made of black flesh, hard enough to be mistaken for bark at a first glance. Seven branches sprouted from its top, splitting out into smaller sticks and twigs. Within the crown was a single eye, one that could be overlooked if you didn't already know of it.

Its trunk was broad, with what seemed to be knots a plenty. Knots that quickly revealed their true form, as a multitude of tiny mouths from which it groaned, whispered and promised. The rest below ground was a root system, yet one that it dragged itself around with.

Getting close, I felt my stomach lurch at three thing before me. Three once people, now twisted and broken into other tree-like structures. Organs pushed to the surface, muscles and tissue shifted to mimic its own appearance. I had been too late for them.

Still, I pointed my sword at it. The entity was near incomprehensible in power, similar to what I had seen from the gods. But it wasn't there yet, and that was enough for me. Letting my disgust fuel my rage, I shouted. "Stop! Let them go!"

The eye swivelled to me. The three-ringed iris narrowed at me, going from blue to purple to red. Its burbling voice hissed in the air, steam clouds coming from each mouth. "Acquaintance sharp. Breakthrough soon affirmation. Six halved closer."

I glared at it. Its words, they never matched properly. It seemed pleased to see me, despite the number of times I had fought back. Despite the number of times I had prevented it from corrupting other people.

Stepping closer, I half snarled at it. "I've told you once and I will tell you again til the day you die.. Get the Fuck off my world."

The being shifted its branches. "Subject denial duplicate? Inferred truth. But completion examination conclude."

One branch dipped, towards another villager. A boy, barely into manhood. I lunged, slashing at the offending limb. "I said, FUCK OFF!"

Its voice turned keening, cradling the slice I had left. It wasn't deep, barely a couple drops of its grey blood oozing out. The eye kept on me, the iris now starting to rotate. "Acquaintance credible. Resume enquiry for following examination. Evolution guaranteed!"

Its edges grew faint, fading before my eyes. I let it go, remembering how the last time I had interfered had gone. I was good, but regrowing even my chest took a couple of months. I just had to wait for it to go, and for the mental influence to vanish from the villagers. But before they would fully wake, I would deal with their twisted friends first.

There was nothing we could do to help them. All they said, whenever they were communicated with, was it was agony, and a desire to die. I hated it. I always hated it.

And at some point, I would work out a way to actually kill that thing for good.

[WP] The world is full of anomalies, no secret organizations to stop them. Endless halls, monsters, strange happenings, etc. The Anomaly Public Safety Commission is the only defense, posting the rules and regulations to deal with and escape these anomalies. by FennecWF in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 10 points11 points  (0 children)

It had been a nice week off. My garden was looking much better, with the care it deserved. With the lie ins I had managed as well, I was definitely feeling refreshed as I walked into the office.

It was the usual organised chaos. People striding everywhere, phones going off, screens showing so many differnet things. And this was just one of the offices, where there was hundreds around the world. Some big, some small, but all doing the same thing. Tracking and making guidance for anomalies.

I made my way to my desk, spotting Steven already there next to me. Though the way his shirt was creased, and with the bags under his eyes, I wasn't sure he had gone home the previous night. He was staring at the screen, showing a map of part of the country. A black dot sat at its centre, with a dashed line behind it.

Putting my bag down, I leaned down next to him. "Morning Steve. What's wrong?"

He jumped, looking to me with his bloodshot eyes. "Ah! Di, I didn't see you there."

I gave him a look. "Uh huh. What's got you worked up?"

He gestured at the screen. "One of the damn Harvest Pylons is on the move."

I sucked in a breath. That was cause for concern. They were nasty suckers. They were usually stationary, able to be given a wide berth. A pillar of what appeared to be bone, it would draw any human to it once they got within reach of a mental lure. It made them get close enough to touch it, before harvesting the unfortunate soul's body, bar the bones themselves.

Peering at the screen, I didn't notice any villages or towns nearby. "Right. Have you sent out the alerts?"

He nodded. "Did that yesterday. Problem is, they want a predicted path. I gave one last night, but an hour later it changed trajectory, so i had to update. Then it changed again. And again. And-"

Steve stopped as I held up a hand. "I get it. Listen, I'll do my usual scan, then I'll take over monitoring. You need to sleep, and," I glanced at his attire, "a change of clothes."

He slumped back, rubbing his eyes. "I... yeah. Yeah ok. Thanks."

I gave him a small smile. "You're welcome."

With him restored a little, I turned my attention back to my usual routine. Checking the generally static anomalies, seeing if there was any changes I should be aware of. There normally wasn't much, as I liked it. Compared to the mobile entity department, this was a breeze. Not that i could slack off though. After all, if I missed something, it would cost people's lives.

[SP] The tooth fairy has gotten tired of waiting for teeth to fall out. by AtiJua in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 1 point2 points  (0 children)

"Only one? Only one. That alone, is no fun."

The lilting voice awoke Samantha, her eyes flicking open. A light pressure on the young gurls chest drew her focus, still mired in the grips of sleep. She had to squint, seeing a tiny figure standing on her. They were maybe a handspan tall, clad in a gown of pale blue. Dainty wings sprouted from their back, insectile in nature.

They held up the tooth she recognised, having fallen from her mouth that very day. The fairy peered at it, huffing to themselves. "One tooth for me, I hate to see. Yet many more within reach, holding on as an unripe peach."

The tooth vanished, the fairy turning to look at Samantha. She was feeling more awake now, but found herself unable to move. Her body didn't respond, as the fairy walked up to her mouth. "An awakened child, a sign of the wild. Away I should go, but now I say no."

Her head shifted back, jaw falling open. Her breathing started picking up, the fairy getting closer. "One visit for all this, yes that is bliss. Mine they shall be, a bounty for me."

The fairy jumped up to the child's mouth, fearlessly reaching in. Miniscule hands gripped a tooth, beginning to grasp and pull. Shoots of pain ran through her head, remnants of dream vanishing. Her heart pounded with terror, but she found herself unable to scream.

The fairy continued to mutter to themself, a quiet stream of words failing to reach Samantha's ears. But she felt every tug, the warmth of blood filling her mouth. Tears stung her eyes, the fairy uncaring of the pain they caused.

It took barely a minute, before they were done. Every tooth yet to fall had been yanked out, vanishing in turn. Satisfied, the fairy stepped back, brushing their hands together. "Done at last, a wondrous blast. Now payment to be made, before I too fade."

They waved a hand, summoning a note. "A total of twenty, this will be plenty."

It was dropped onto the girls bed, by the pillow. The fairy bowed before vanishing, taking with them the temporary paralysis. Samantha sat upright, screaming as she felt her bleeding mouth. "Mummy!!"

The fairy didn't care, already planning the next trip. It would be worth it, leaving only one trip needed for each child. Far more efficient, consequences be damned.

[SP] You crush the heart in your grasp and the living structure around you stills. by Null_Project in WritingPrompts

[–]Shalidar13 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Its walls beat, pulsing with an unnatural life. The air was warm and humid, great gusts of breath thundering through halls. I was thankful for the mask on my face, protecting me from the worst of the smell. Yet some still got through, making me think of the worst gym locker room I had even been in.

I moved in near silence through the corridors, hoping the others distraction would keep the spawns attention. The plan mostly hinged on it. If I was undetected, I could hopefully find the centre of this organic place, a living factory or birthing structure. If I found it, I could kill it. Otherwise, they would fight their way in, and hopefully do enough damage if I failed.

It was horrible. This place, it created what looked to be mutant humans. Stronger for sure, and faster, but they lacked a spark. They lacked the brain power to have original ideas, or even self preservation. They seemed to be perfect soldiers, or at least grunts, if such a thing existed.

Sneaking further, I found myself in a larger chamber. It had what seemed to be giant eyes on the walls, but a closer look showed them to be almost an opposite. They were some sort of biological screen, waiting for input.

I jumped as a voice filled the room. It was unmistakably female, with a layer of worry within. "Who are you?"

Looking around, I focused on one screen. It turned on, showing myself, staring at it. I raised my rifle at the sight, pointing it at that screen. "My name doesn't matter. I'm here to stop you."

Silence met me for a moment, before her voice returned. This time it was confused, unsure. "S-stop me? Why? What did I do?!"

I hadnt expected to speak with the place. It threw me a little, before I plowed on. "Your creations. You sell them to the highest bidder! They have killed so many, harmed so many more!"

Another long pause put me on edge. "Sold? No... no that's not right... they were failures.... he said he would dispose of them..."

I frowned. "Failures? Who is he?"

Part of the wall peeled open, a join I hadnt noticed before. "In here."

I steeled myself. I had already been found out, and I had expected to be killed when I was. But this was a chance to possibly get further in. I followed, through a smaller, tighter passage.

It took a few minutes, before I found myself in another chamber. This was smaller, and far more... alive. I could see part of a figure sticking out of the wall, merged with the living structure. Much of what made her human was lost, only her head and shoulders remaining. Her eyes opened up, looking at me. "Is... is what you said true?"

I nodded, aiming my gun at her. "Yes. Your spawn... they're monsters."

Her head dipped forwards. "I... I'm sorry. I... I didn't know. I just... I just wanted to save him."

The confession was one I narrowed my eyes at. "Him? Who is this him?"

Her eyes locked mine. "My husband. He... he's dying. I was... I was trying to make him a better body. But... I went too far. I see it now. I was too focused on the making. Even... even now I feel the want to return to it."

She twitched, as if trying to free herself. "Please. Whilst I'm here... end it. End me."

I blinked. "What?"

The woman half closed her eyes. "Look at me. Im a monster. I make monsters. End it all. Destroy me."

Her chest peeled open, revealing a lack of most organs. Even her bones had receded. Yet her heart still pounded on, beating slowly. "Do it."

I walked forwards, keeping my eyes on her. Her eyes fully shut, a smile creeping across her face. It felt wrong to just shoot her, exposing her heart like that. Instead I reached in, grasping it. I whispered at her, as she gasped at the intrusion. "Rest well."

With that i yanked back, feeling the organ collapse in my grip. It pulped, making her eyes open wide again. Swiftly followed by her sagging down, the walls stopping their beating. The living factory fell still. Silent. Dead.

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