Level 7 ChipistSnarkyPenguin
post #94180 :: 2018.01.08 12:33pm
Upon this wretched land exist four fiends. In ancient times, theirs was a rule of terror and domination. Now, they slumber and await the foolish. And to the north, She, the Fiend of Ice. And to the north you did travel, over jagged peaks and through heavy snow. And after great hardship you come upon the lair, the cave. And within you find the altar, a jagged stone mound with a center and top of obsidian; polished, and gleaming beautifully. And upon the altar you write the cursed number in blood. Each drop of it echoing from off the surface like the ringing of a bell. From deep within the cave, She comes. In her presence now, you kneel and plead for a boon. "Oh, Fiend of Ice, grant me ALL the formats I desire! That I might make this winter festival my own! That I might be blessed with the gleaming of gold!" And how She smiles. Her hands outstretched, She beckons you forward. And you rise, unable to deny Her will. You can feel it now, yes! Her unfathomable power. And how lovely her form is, and how so much less frigid her embrace seems to be. In your head, things have become a haze. Your body now cold and hollow like the bitter snow falling outside. You are sure that POWER has come to you, and you are sure that you understand the Fiend of Ice. In fact, you can almost hear Her voice inside your mind as She draws closer. So hungry, so hungry...