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Cyril Darkcloud · 12-17-2003, 10:53 PM

Near the Ley Line

Opening a large pouch one of the giants withdraws a gemstone of no small size, its faceted sides are clear in color, or rather would be were it not for the swirling smoke colored vapor moving within them. Mist diamonds, stones such as these are called by those few who have heard of such strange gems, strange in their great size and strange in the swirling vapor trapped between their unmoving facets. Few are those who have heard of such stones as these, fewer still are those who have heard the strange things told of such gems, and even fewer are those who believe both that such stones exist and that the things spoken of them are true. So long ago, the day is now but a dim memory a band of giants newly arrived in the sunless Underforums heard such things and risked much in the belief that what they had heard was true and in the turmoil of the sinking of the dead Blue Boards beneath the newly emerged brown vigor of the present forums theirs were the arms mighty enough to seize these stones that have served them so well.

While his companion patrols the immediate area, the one who holds the stone gazes into its swirling center. His eyes find that one to whom he would speak, “Sevvord,” he says with blunt authority, “a way must be prepared. See that it is done.” He places the stone back into its pouch and his eyes survey the area. No sound of further battle reaches his ears – the woman and dragon it would seem have escaped the wolf like creatures that hunt them. So be it, let them do what they must elsewhere, but any who seek out this place shall die for it is now claimed by the Giants of Shadow.

Below the surface, a command has been heard. And silent digging begins. Silent only, however, in the soundlessness with which picks strike stone, for they sing, these dwarves, with a strangely fervent joy a song that was once for them a hymn of pain:

And it’s go, boys, go!
They’ll time your every breath.
and every day you’re in this place
you’re two days nearer death,
but you gooooooooooooo!
- Great Big Sea

They sing as they dig and these singing shadows that dig with such speed and skill shall see to it that a way is made ready.

[ 12-17-2003, 10:54 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

12-17-2003, 10:53 PM	#21
Cyril Darkcloud Lord Soth Join Date: February 7, 2002 Location: New York Posts: 1,980	Near the Ley Line Opening a large pouch one of the giants withdraws a gemstone of no small size, its faceted sides are clear in color, or rather would be were it not for the swirling smoke colored vapor moving within them. Mist diamonds, stones such as these are called by those few who have heard of such strange gems, strange in their great size and strange in the swirling vapor trapped between their unmoving facets. Few are those who have heard of such stones as these, fewer still are those who have heard the strange things told of such gems, and even fewer are those who believe both that such stones exist and that the things spoken of them are true. So long ago, the day is now but a dim memory a band of giants newly arrived in the sunless Underforums heard such things and risked much in the belief that what they had heard was true and in the turmoil of the sinking of the dead Blue Boards beneath the newly emerged brown vigor of the present forums theirs were the arms mighty enough to seize these stones that have served them so well. While his companion patrols the immediate area, the one who holds the stone gazes into its swirling center. His eyes find that one to whom he would speak, “Sevvord,” he says with blunt authority, “a way must be prepared. See that it is done.” He places the stone back into its pouch and his eyes survey the area. No sound of further battle reaches his ears – the woman and dragon it would seem have escaped the wolf like creatures that hunt them. So be it, let them do what they must elsewhere, but any who seek out this place shall die for it is now claimed by the Giants of Shadow. Below the surface, a command has been heard. And silent digging begins. Silent only, however, in the soundlessness with which picks strike stone, for they sing, these dwarves, with a strangely fervent joy a song that was once for them a hymn of pain: And it’s go, boys, go! They’ll time your every breath. and every day you’re in this place you’re two days nearer death, but you gooooooooooooo! - Great Big Sea They sing as they dig and these singing shadows that dig with such speed and skill shall see to it that a way is made ready. [ 12-17-2003, 10:54 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]