"Hennet was exhausted. Two weeks of exploring the Nightmare Rift in the bleak Abyss had not lead him to his would be supernatural master. And still, whether through sheer determination or stupidity (Charisma is their chief score after all), he perservered, and his labor paid off, for while exploring a particularly large gallery off a flooded tunned, he discovered it. Set into a nook, a nook which could almost be overlooked were one uncareful, was a graven arch, carved seemingly from a single solid slab of jet. The motifs were dark and troubling. Serpents errupted from the jaws of leering skulls, and those serpets, simultaneously constricted and swalled the forms of mortals. The unknown craftman of the arch took great pains to show the agony and terror on each, anguished face in those reliefs.
Hennet paused, and while he unbuckled himself a hundred times and re-arrange his strange, untrendy garments (which he did when thoughtful or disconcerted), and pondered the wisdom the quest he undertook. As if knowning his dilema, a strange stench wafted from out the black portal, vaguely vinegary, yet simultaneously, vaguely....sweet. With but a moments thought (Charisma is their chief score after all) he plunged through that dread portal.
For three days he followed that tunnel, and with every step the reliefs which dominated the tunnel, which leered and danced in the sputering lamp of his torch (light? whose got slots to learn light?) grew more and more obscene. Finally he reached what seemed to be a conical antechamber, where the images of sacrifice ceased, and the carvings now were of a paradisaical garden, growing with strange fruit.
WHO CALLS UPON THE MIGHTY ONE!!!!
A blast of sound knocked the sorcerer flat on his back. Hennet managed to stutter an answer...
"A supplicant... Lordship..."
WHY!!!!
This time the chamber shook with the fury of the voice.
"I would be an Eldritch Master, I would beg you teach me."
Then, a very strange thing happened. A tiny chuckly echoed in his mind....
"Very well, then enter..." said a tiny voice which nevertheless parted his thoughts like water. As if to answer Henet's unspoken query, a stone slab slid into the floor. The stench he smelt three day before, was over powering.
Trembling he passed through that door, and as he did, noticed that the ground turned to bone. Yards of remains filled the tunnel into which he strode. Finally that tunneled ended and he stepped into a vast cavern, the top of which he could not see, nor any of the sides, so that the sensation of vertigo, both from the great distances and stench nearly overwhelmed him. A great pool stretched to the horizon, vaguely eliptical, though he couldn't really tell because he could not see the ends of it. In it sloshed a radiant green goop, a noisesome smelling substance floating with dreadful lumps, constantly churned by some unseen motion. A great grinding sound rumbled on occasion from the unseen depths of the cavern. A small, pale white imp, floated by on what seemed to be a large pit of some kind of fruit.
"Approach his lordship, the mighty Guacamole", instructed the creature, as he made a sweeping gesture with his hand at the matrix within the pool.
"Say again," said Hennet quizically. The Sour Cream Mephit slapped his forhead.
At that moment, what seemed to be a tidal wave of goo rushed forth from the cavern's darkness, which dwarfed the puny sorcerer and the tiny fiend.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE", roared the tidal wave, from a skeletal face which had fomed in the goo. The sour cream mephit shat a thin, milky liquid and wisely prostrated himself before Guacamole. Hennet did no such wise thing (After alll....).
"Teach me Eldritch Mastery!", demanded Hennet, and then started to read from a tatered cloth scroll he pulled from his pockets. But before he could complete his ancient spell to bind the great Guacamole to his bidding, an opening opened in the tidal wave of avacado mash and a great razor sharp tortilla chip sliced Hennet's head clean off.
"Smells like cool ranch", flashed through the falling head and then it was over.
From somewhere in the cavern, the Avacado Pit Fiends roared their unanimous approval. The cloud of spices from the vapor trail of the Voral Dorito caused the mighty to sneeze goo.
"Ah... filthy things, I despise using them," said Guacamole, in a much more reasonable tone.
"What, the chips?", asked the trembling Sour Cream Mephit.
"No... the sorcerers", and with that the tidal wave of goo returned to the ministrations of his servants....
"Cool belts though," said the mephit to no one in particular.
(go to next post)
Hennet paused, and while he unbuckled himself a hundred times and re-arrange his strange, untrendy garments (which he did when thoughtful or disconcerted), and pondered the wisdom the quest he undertook. As if knowning his dilema, a strange stench wafted from out the black portal, vaguely vinegary, yet simultaneously, vaguely....sweet. With but a moments thought (Charisma is their chief score after all) he plunged through that dread portal.
For three days he followed that tunnel, and with every step the reliefs which dominated the tunnel, which leered and danced in the sputering lamp of his torch (light? whose got slots to learn light?) grew more and more obscene. Finally he reached what seemed to be a conical antechamber, where the images of sacrifice ceased, and the carvings now were of a paradisaical garden, growing with strange fruit.
WHO CALLS UPON THE MIGHTY ONE!!!!
A blast of sound knocked the sorcerer flat on his back. Hennet managed to stutter an answer...
"A supplicant... Lordship..."
WHY!!!!
This time the chamber shook with the fury of the voice.
"I would be an Eldritch Master, I would beg you teach me."
Then, a very strange thing happened. A tiny chuckly echoed in his mind....
"Very well, then enter..." said a tiny voice which nevertheless parted his thoughts like water. As if to answer Henet's unspoken query, a stone slab slid into the floor. The stench he smelt three day before, was over powering.
Trembling he passed through that door, and as he did, noticed that the ground turned to bone. Yards of remains filled the tunnel into which he strode. Finally that tunneled ended and he stepped into a vast cavern, the top of which he could not see, nor any of the sides, so that the sensation of vertigo, both from the great distances and stench nearly overwhelmed him. A great pool stretched to the horizon, vaguely eliptical, though he couldn't really tell because he could not see the ends of it. In it sloshed a radiant green goop, a noisesome smelling substance floating with dreadful lumps, constantly churned by some unseen motion. A great grinding sound rumbled on occasion from the unseen depths of the cavern. A small, pale white imp, floated by on what seemed to be a large pit of some kind of fruit.
"Approach his lordship, the mighty Guacamole", instructed the creature, as he made a sweeping gesture with his hand at the matrix within the pool.
"Say again," said Hennet quizically. The Sour Cream Mephit slapped his forhead.
At that moment, what seemed to be a tidal wave of goo rushed forth from the cavern's darkness, which dwarfed the puny sorcerer and the tiny fiend.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE", roared the tidal wave, from a skeletal face which had fomed in the goo. The sour cream mephit shat a thin, milky liquid and wisely prostrated himself before Guacamole. Hennet did no such wise thing (After alll....).
"Teach me Eldritch Mastery!", demanded Hennet, and then started to read from a tatered cloth scroll he pulled from his pockets. But before he could complete his ancient spell to bind the great Guacamole to his bidding, an opening opened in the tidal wave of avacado mash and a great razor sharp tortilla chip sliced Hennet's head clean off.
"Smells like cool ranch", flashed through the falling head and then it was over.
From somewhere in the cavern, the Avacado Pit Fiends roared their unanimous approval. The cloud of spices from the vapor trail of the Voral Dorito caused the mighty to sneeze goo.
"Ah... filthy things, I despise using them," said Guacamole, in a much more reasonable tone.
"What, the chips?", asked the trembling Sour Cream Mephit.
"No... the sorcerers", and with that the tidal wave of goo returned to the ministrations of his servants....
"Cool belts though," said the mephit to no one in particular.
(go to next post)
