The Archaic Chronicles of Dome-Wyrd

Epilogue: The Wandering Coliseum & An Elven Presence    Manis was not only lost, he did not want to be found. He had become a husk whose only actions became frightening cackles that penetrated the unlit and empty halls of his wandering throne room.    They were harmonious as he danced around in his own madness. Manis had become nothing more than a shell, a vessel of madness and all the horrifying things it implies. Sealing his fate as not only the youngest king in all of Dome-Wyrd, but the first to fall to the ever reaching hands of Vaea.    To think he was once a boy full of wonder and aspiration, if grief is ignored, there’s no telling what monstrosity, or reality you’ll find yourself in. Grimace wandered the lands during the nightfall, feeding on any unlucky traveler who found themselves just close enough to the coliseum. During the bleak depressing days of boorish sunlight, rumor and talk began to spread. Telling outlandish tales of a moving coliseum that devoured mortals for p

XI Manis’s Big Day. The big day had finally come, the sun rose with all those souls already lost. A dead-heat combed the skies. Manis was dressed up in a fancy, quilted-doublet, It was red and undoubtedly matched his flowing red cape, outlined in a golden lace, it was velvet and silky. Although, like always, his pants were the same tattered linens he refused to change ever since, the tragic aftermath of Jaykob. His confidence shone as he walked out onto the wide-oval stage. Granted it took his subjects months, and many gruesome deaths later. The longer Manis seemed to rule the higher the body count seemed to rise. Even though the sun was hot and rising over the forest just beyond the coliseum, there was a dreadfully dead air passing through the morning light. There were torches scattered about the edges of the stage all dimly lit. The seats for the audience rested just beneath the stage and were all eagerly, not to mention surprisingly filled.     The only thought that had dawned in Ma

X Madness Born From Grief. Love is an inevitable thing, infatuation and affection plague young men regardless of the time or the age. To find love is one thing, a beautiful thing. To fall for the wrong individual is a completely different tale. One of the likes that Manis would come to quickly and regrettably know. We often fall hard and fast early in life, and with these young and dumb mistakes we inevitably learn. Much like Manis irrefutably learned with Jaykob’s gruesome murder. It’s not how we fall, it’s how we pick ourselves up. Where we go from falling off a mountain in unsure lands, in ghastly and dark times. It’s not the tale of how we fell into the darkness, but how we found the light after striding for an eon through that seemingly impenetrable darkness. Then again, saying and doing are entirely different things. It’s easier said than done when you find yourself down that path, when you find yourself hot and sweating in the moment, only in the dawn after will your real

VIII The Sun & The Moon. Far above, on the pristine marble balcony of Fairgun-Gard, the wind roared ferociously, blowing Vaea’s perfect hair across her  nose. She combs strands behind her ears, tapping her fingers in a certain succession. Cocking her eyebrows, she raises her index finger forward. “That’s IT!” she slowly shouted “Oh, I truly out do myself don’t I?” Her cackles occupied the halls of Fairgun-Gard, shrilling through the white hallways like an eerie gust. Vaea turned around, her gown brushes against the stone-floor. Swaying her delicate but pronounced hips, she walks seductively towards Vorago. Whom is laying on a stone-slab. His lifeless arms folded onto his chest, he snores soundly asleep as the darkness seething all around him begins to move with his every breath. Vaea giggles, placing her hand on her lips. “You know, Vorago, you really are just adorable laying there, ever so vulnerable.” After laughing in her palm, Vaea then traces her fingertips on his resting body

IX Dome-Wyrd’s First Dawn On the first day that the sun graced the sky in Dome-Wyrd, the swamp was bubbling-hot. In Manis’s now thriving kingdom. People gathered in front of the entrance to the throne-room. Which was now sealed. By a giant steel gate which had a small steel door, it required a key which only Manis had. Only his original kidnapped subjects, all who have now undoubtedly lost their sodding minds, were allowed entrée. Manis had hit extreme states of paranoia nevertheless this was already prevalent with charging folks for day-passes in his kingdom. Which was a past-time now, Manis had kept increasing the price for the day passes, and soon anyone who came wandering to the his gates of madness would’ve found themselves  slaughtered before they found their mind again.   Above the entrance, and the swarming crowd that riddled the throne room, stood Manis who was now a young man. Not nearly any stronger but outrageously taller, for the first time in his life he had a full set of

Chapter VII A Kingdom Of Madness. Now Manis described his kingdom’s plan with waving hands and dancing-legs. As Grimace watched from above, like spiders always eerily seemed to. He told his hazy-minded subjects that the ground in which they stood upon. Was to be flooded with shops, craftsman, and his throne room was to reside where the gladiators once called their “blood-works.” Not only that but Manis would have a throne directly above the arching entrance to his throne-room, to watch his glorious kingdom thrive. He told his subjects that it will be no easy task, but their pride will carry them to commit to the construction of his kingdom, or perish. Lest they be gruesomely be fed to his dark liege, Grimace.  They worked endlessly for the next two years of their dimly lit lives. As every man has a profession, a talent if you will. Each and every man that happened to be responsible for a young family, was instructed by Manis, to find a talent. A craft, something of value, something of