Skip to main content

The Chronicles of Dome-Wyrd: 0

Ghloth_AO: Entry #0

To whom the fate of a once prosperous land may concern.
Year: 1700, 
The end of the Third Age.

 What lies before you, is a universe, you have never known, I write to you, lucky mortal. You might even find yourself curious, alas my reader, I know you already have questions, I detect these things like bright balls of tiny light. 

It matters not, who I am, but what I am, although, I will share with you my name. Ghloth, The Astral Observer. As for what my dear human, that will come.. one day.

 The universe I speak of, it’s name, is Dome-Wyrd. All things beautiful come with a heavy-burden. While I could tell you of many things. For example, the great inferno that not only ended, but viciously incinerated the second age. 

 As i have learned from mortals such as, Manis Furin! The miniature-king-of-madness! A boy-of-a-king, but i digress, he was fierce, relentless, and a ravishingly good story-teller. 

And as he was a grand story-teller, he always knew great stories, always have gloriously promising beginnings. 

 even if a miasmic evil swallowed the dark existence of the first moments of creation, coloring the origin of reality. 

In a vile toxin that proved far, far too powerful for even The Gods. The things the mortals were led to worship, were even weaker than they were, throughout the endless horror of the Second Age.  

       -Ghloth, The Astral Observer.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Chronicles of Domewyrd: 14

The Second King of Yore:  The Rotting Kingdom Of the Plagued Snow Elves. I: A Haunting Odyssey   As one calamity rises-and-falls, another is only bound to transpire, ever too soon. Little did the mortals know, they would cherish these simple days, in dark days to come, they will pray to have these days back in their arms. Ah, alas, foolish dreaming won't stop the sun from rising, that none of the poor mortals happened to hope for.   Far to the north of the bubbling bogs, past forests that have no end, past hellishly deep desert canyons that know only the driest, most physically testing of climates. There lies a mountain range, unlike any other. The daunting peaks were undiscovered, penetrating through the gloomy rain-bloated clouds above.    Vaea, snapped her flawless fingers of starlight, and yelped,   “astral eggs!” Weaving her hand in a circular motion around an invisible point on the center of The now repaired balcony. No repairs can erase the...

The Chronicles Of Domewyrd: 8

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...

The Chronicles of Domewyrd: 19

VI: The Mystical Anvil: Muurin.  During the next dawn the ominous sun pierced through the glass castle and awoke everyone simultaneously with a chained-yawn. Elves always operated on a wavelength of unison, which only gave them advantages in times of horrid war.      At first light, the king wandered up the stairs to the anvil they spotted during last night's arrival, walking up the spiraling-steps, Mondisi saw a glowing blue hammer, placed atop the anvil, the anvil was covered by a strange gazebo made of glass.   The king slowly examined the hammer and placed it in his palm, it was like no hammer he had ever gazed upon. The hammer itself required the wielder to use both hands, and all of their strength, the size of the hammer only complimented this, standing at roughly three-feet-long.   The actual hammer, was the most peculiarly, accurate cube he had ever seen, and like the palace below him, was also fashioned of glass.   Mondisi lifte...