Pages from Flint’s Journal, pt. 3 (Dark Prophecy fiction)

8/1 ————- It’s been a few days since I’ve written in here. The contract’s kept me fairly busy, and family matters fill what small breaks I’ve had. The contract itself is in jeopardy. Actually, it’s probably just null and void now, I don’t know. I found a shrine dedicated to the Harrower, a legend only whispered of in the tombs of Khaldun. It’s a horror beyond comprehension, most say. The very tentacles that emerge from the vortex in Khaldun are enough of a threat to the soul of any who dare venture there. It appears Thorne had us gathering the champions’ skull to summon the Harrower. Five out of the six pedestals have skulls upon them, and only Lord Oaks’ head is needed to complete the...

Greed (Dark Prophecy fiction)

All was not going as he planned. The rogue gazed upon the shrine. Six pedestals, five of which had heads on them. The empty pedestal bore the name of Oaks. What puzzled the man was how there could be five heads, instead of four. He knew that the gypsy Barracoon was long since dead, before the assault even occurred on Felucca. Barracoon was a legend amongst the ratmen tribes that led the Vermin Horde, and it’s highest shamans honored the befriended human’s memory by taking his form when the most elite of the forces needed the morale of a leader. This head of Barracoon was not the first, and surely not the last. The skull of the Cold Blood’s leader, a trophy of power and dominance. The Rikktor was simply a name of rank amongst the Order, a...

Gathering (Dark Prophecy fiction)

—Felucca: 3 days ago— “The Necropolis did not receive my presence well,” groaned a weary and ragged looking Alexander Thorne as he removed the charred leather armor from his body which stank of deadly magicks recently used. “Of course not, you were foolish to think a human would be welcome, even if his agenda was a dark one,” replied an unearthly voice coming from a tall figure before Thorne. “You reek of Trammel. You should stay there, Thorne. -I- will deal with the Necropolis denizens myself. I can win them to our cause yet.” “And how do you intend to do this?” The once human creature cackled briefly. “I have a history with them. Or rather, my pets do,” it replied as one bony finger...

Watching (Dark Prophecy Fiction)

The sounds of mirth and merriment could be heard a safe distance from Kinship Tavern. He watched from the shadows, garbed in a dark purple hooded robe. Not his personal choice of color, but at least if he were seen it would be assumed a True Britannian had come to this area, one of the few places in the land where plant life still fought strong against the decay and death that hung in the air like an unending fog. Some Roses could be seen leaving the tavern now, heading south. Probably to their headquarters, the robed one mused. He was impressed by their resourcefulness and their commitment to the contract. All had been going as close to his plans as possible. The Sergeant’s rivalry with the Rikktor was known to him, and he has no doubt the Cold...

Pages from Flint’s Journal, pt. 2 (Dark Prophecy fiction)

—————————– 7/16 “The Black Rose has been stationed in the village of Kinship now for two days. The hospitality and generosity of the Ri and the townsfolk has far exceeded my expectations. I would have never imagined we would be given such a large building to use for the duration of our stay. Melanie and Anmoch appear to have the supplies in order, and just about every currently active Rose is slowly but surely becoming involved. I’m taking a small risk at assigning the Privates on these recon missions. I don’t know if I would have been so eager to when I was in direct command of the Recruits Division. However, Ben’s familiarity with the Lost Lands and Tarth’s experience in...

Lost & Found (Dark Prophecy fiction)

Sergeant Thomas Flint. According to the roster, Thomas would still get the honor, and responsibility, of that rank. His proposal had gone through and approved by Colonel Anubis, perhaps his last official act before the tragedy that occured days ago. Though he only had five confirmed, some final orders from the Colonel had assigned two more to the Nighthawks. Thankfully, Ryker was one of them. His eating habits aside, Thomas had a great deal of respect for a warrior who was brave enough to challenge a serpentine dragon, and skillful enough to not be called an idiot for doing so. The other name though gave the Sergeant of the Nighthawks some pause. Appended to the orders for Lance Corporal Lillith Stynovich’s were these simple words from the Colonel....

Pages from Flint’s Journal pt. 1 (Dark Prophecy fiction)

Thomas looked at the current Society roster. The ranks seemed so much thinner compared to a few years ago. With all that had come before, he was surprised he still felt compelled to stay. Friends and a fragile belief that the Oath he took meant something kept Sergeant Flint garbed in the black. It was late in the eve. A summer wind caused his candlelight to flicker as he looked over his journal, going over his notes on Ilshenar. —- “…factions exist, albeit an even more twisted perverse version of Felucca’s ongoing conflict. Six cultures appear to populate Ilshenar. A Terrathan society led by an arachnid known as Mephitis. Little is known about them, save that the gypsies that roam the land have told stories of the terrathans working...

Dark Prophecy: Winds of Change (prologue)

Watch for the rotting of the great trees For their curse shall herald the Winds of Change The Day shall come when the wards are broken The ruined lands shall welcome my Enemies Whom til then are bound within their ancient home The Lord of Vermin, The Spider God, The Seductress, The Dragon King, The Angel My Lady shall scream through the night once more, Her infernal steed beckoning the spirits of the Fallen My time will draw near The rose shall be led by the thorn The visages of my Enemies shall be brought together, and I shall rise Woe to Sosaria when that day comes Glory to the Dark when that day comes The Harvest is at hand —– A slight grin crossed the face of the noble as he rolled up the aged parchment. A time of change drew near. Seers, gypsies,...

The Secret Isle

‘All has been going well, quite well, save the imprisonment of Sergeant Flint, another matter to deal with at another date. Training has been conducted for the most part on time and as directed. Lieutenant McBain seems to be holding events for most of the vets on active duty. Although I think the unit leaders need to pick up the reigns more. The recruits seem to be steadily working their way into units, although the two unit holding tanks are getting a little larger than I expected. The income of new recruits seems to have dropped some, typical for the season. Operationally I see us in the finest condition the Society has been in some years, save the days of old which of course will never again be seen. I will be taking leave starting this week; Major...

A Simple Task

Member’s Forum This resource is classified BETA Clearance Welcome to the Tavern. cuss, discuss, whatever you need. Post A Followup | Return To Index ——————————————————————————– A Simple Task Posted By: Lieutenant Kenyon On 5/11/2002 9:15:00 PM It is a dark and rainy night on the streets of Magencia as Lt Kenyon McBain dashes into the Merchants Guild, the last place to look for the evening.” Excuse me sir” said a voice ” Can I help you?”Kenyon turns towards the voice and notices a older man in robes standing there . “Ays ya can ” replied the Lt. ” Ah`m a...