MasterAkira696

      A man stood on the beach just outside the City of Realms watching the emerald waves roll in and out, breathing deep the salty air, and enjoying the sound of far off seagulls. The sky was clear, the sun already past the noon hour, and no signs of bad weather on any horizon, not even from the mainland where winter was in slowly driving down from the Far North, beyond the mountains and the mysteries past that. Somewhere else down the beach a group of children ran from the city steps and towards the water, chased by their chaperone, a large maid far too old to be chasing youngsters through the villa's private beach. The man chuckled as he w

The god of Necromancy awoke into a dark and empty void       The other gods still slumbered. Necromancy tried to form itself a companion and found the void lacking physical substance       An angel could not be made. From void to void Necromancy found only silent gods that reused to awaken for their brethren       The Waking God became bitter              Its countenance began to corrupt Then a link was found                        A portal And so Necromancy found the World of Demons and made its first friend in a beast called Saga'rath.       They planned such grand and spiteful things to do To the other gods       Still t

A god awoke and examined the cosmos It found a family of celestial bodies Three children of the sun and moon Beautiful offspring of primordial creation The first child of the stars Would become The spouse       Of             Necromancy.

There is a world that is Magnificent and magical A world full of the fantastic A Place Where magic is real           And evil wears a black cloak. And good is bathed in golden light. This world has two siblings Both younger        Twins They are places where good Is greater    And evil Hides from the hero. They are paradise        Until Now!

A black sunrise fills the soul While a yellow moon haunts the mind Rivers of sorrow rush forth Fed by mountains of disgust All this while the grey moon Casts shadows over the land Of disturbed mornings and nights No greater hate hath any man That he lay down the life of another For more Power. The sun sinks and the night rules Its fiends excited And elated! Tonight there will be Blood! Embrace the night Fear the dawn Black soul Diseased mind Untold sorry And immortal disgust Fear your shadow during the Black sunrise…

Every New beginning Comes from some Old Beginnings End Learn this Well Trist`tal. No Darkness is complete. He once stood in the Dark Destroying what was new Trist`tal knew no better Way to revive the old And make life well again. The end was him. None could end His consuming darkness And make all well The new could not come Before the old was gone. Trist`tal was lost. Trist`tal, Could see the end As the old began to die And the darkness fade Only to begin anew When all was well. It was a well of Light That Trist`tal found Full of new life It was the end of ends The bane of darkness And replaced the old. No longer

Rough palms and strong fingers Always fighting, upholding justice His mind green and full of shadow Is it the destination or journey that matters? Soft topaz eyes smiles, “Where have you come from?” So many trees and yet so little life A world of dreams Awaits those who dare to question.

His mask a celebration of life and colour Feet always pound, pounding, pounding His jumping, leaping never grows tired He never stops Every motion, gesture a praise The fire never changes Always different A soft crackle A warm light And smooth heat Forever does he dance To the fire’s perfect rhythm Never will the darkness oppress Nor will it intimidate The land is so bright That the mind thinks it dark Always will the light embrace That which is good Only one other sees the dancer Only one other knows this place Only one other can come here Just by closing his eyes This place is always wonderful It needs only one t

Always dancing. Always moving. Never stopping. Never resting. The fire burns on and on. Still the ritual continues. Nothing changes. Nothing dies. The Fire and Dancer are forever. Squatting to the side a hut stares at the Fire. Its door never closes and never opened. Within is only a clay basin of always clean water and a small mat, which passes as a bed, a guest bed, for the Dancer never stops. There was no straw roof, for there were no fell storms to ward off and no unforgiving sun to hide from. In a realm of perpetual darkness there was only the Fire for light and the Dancer for company. There were no hot or cold, bright or dark. The F