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Old 03-19-2004, 11:27 PM   #278
Cyril Darkcloud
Lord Soth
 

Join Date: February 7, 2002
Location: New York
Posts: 1,980
Terrakis

He turns the young man around that he might meet his confused and terrified gaze with the cold steadiness of his own. “Still you do not see? Foolish boy! This has been your destiny from the very beginning! From your first involvement in this game you have denied it in the checking of your dual-wielding abilities. And had you ever considered just whose hunger it was that snatched you from out of the NWN forums when this game was opened once more? Fool! Everything has led you to this moment and you exist for no other reason.” He releases the young man for numbness and fear will prevent him from moving. As he resumes speaking the full and terrible weight of his confident authority crushes down upon the ranger. “We are his sons! Though we never knew him, we are his heirs. The Devouring Wind found us and taught us and prepared us for this day, the self-same wind that seized you and brought you here. Fool! For he, our father, had prepared you long ago even as he prepared the vessel before you.”

Truth harsh and terrifying asserts itself and the Forums fall quiet for the telling of this tale.

“At last you begin to see! The undoing of the Windbringer’s victory and the return of the great nightmare of these Forums and our meeting at last that one who is our father all come together in you.”

Cautiously Terrakis removes a small bag from his belt. From this bag he withdraws a carefully wrapped package and removes from the package a small wooden band. His fingers burn immediately and a grimace of pain distorts his features. The young ranger’s shoulder snaps violently out of its socket as his right arm is seized. His hand is forced open and the ring is placed upon its third finger. Through teeth clenched tightly against the burning from the ring, Terrakis speaks in defiant notes, “We are his sons, and none shall contest our claim.”

Stepping to the throne he takes up the flask and forces it into young Brendon’s hands .......



Burning.



......... It burns. Life itself burns away from the youth and the flask glows white in his hands. The wooden band never changes but the life of the ranger burns outward through it for the life in the flask is mightier than the life within the youth. He screams. Over and over again he screams as life pours out of him and into the flask. Soon his hands open and the flask falls heavily to the unyielding stone upon which he stands. The burning continues, however, even though a mere husk of a man remains where Brendon Grey once stood, it continues until the finger that holds the ring, in curious imitation of the self-mutilation of the Modding Mage so long ago falls to the stone alongside the flask.

As this happens the flask bursts open and darkness settles upon the throne.

“It is time, my brothers!” The voice of Terrakis fills the inner Forums. “Step forward and greet him who is our father.” As one the giants approach the throne and its thickening darkness. “We are his sons,” the great Giant intones and his brothers answer in a thundrous acclamation:

AND NONE SHALL CONTEST OUR CLAIM!!!!!!


[ 03-19-2004, 11:53 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]
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