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...