Welcome one and all! This is the tiny slice of the forum where I will be hosting all my little inane bits of writing and what not. So please enjoy, and offer any criticisms you may have. This is a poem I made to share an all too common Pumpkin Moon experience: [COMPLETE] Twas the Night Before Halloween Twas the night before Halloween, and all through the game Not a mob was stirring, which was kind of lame. The medallions were placed in the inventory with care, In hopes that Pumpking would drop something rare. The NPCs were nestled all safe in their base, And the arena was in another world, just in case. With the trap turned on, and I in my box, The time was come to farm a boss. Through the air there came a great roar, I knew that this one would yield a hefty score. Waves 1 through 6 went by in a flash, But 7 was coming and I would soon keyboard smash. The moon was scarcely above the ground, Yet I head such a terrible sound. My health was dropping, it was such a crime, Something had a higher rank than my statue slime. My health plummeted so terribly quick, 4 Sources of regen just didn’t do the trick. Faster and faster my health did fall, Potions would do nothing but stall. “Come on just one Pumpking kill,” I shouted aloud, And what came next made me so proud. As I fell so did the Pumpking, he had been outplayed, Luck was with me today ,and I got myself a Legendary Horseman’s Blade! Happy Halloween everybody! Have fun grinding Pumpking! This is something I was doing in my sig on the old forum to coincide with the release of 1.1, so it's pretty outdated: [COMPLETE] Matsu's Log Matsu's Log-I was able to cut off the spread of the Hallow and the Corruption for now. Two 3 block Stone Brick walls. I hope this solution lasts. If it fails I will be forced to abandon the town folk and take to hiding in the Underworld, only returning for supplies. Matsu's Log-Part 2 The wall has failed. I have had to reinforce it but brick is running low. On my expeditions to the new underground I was able to find enough Cobalt to make all but a helmet, the Drill has sped up the process. I have also found Mythril and used it to forge a new spear. The strange Goblin fellow appears to be very random in his aptitude at his job, and that Mage fellow is very expensive. Matsu's Log- Part 3: The Wall near the Hallow was breached again. I reinforced it with Obsidian Bricks. While looking for more Cobalt I stumbled across strange monsters in the guise of Chests, I have taken to calling them Mimics. The Mimics have found useful treasures somehow. The two I slayed had a Compass which shows my horizontal position, and a Cross Necklace which it seems makes enemies unable damage me after a hit for longer then normal. Matsu's Log-Part 4: The Mimics appear to have even more powerful treasures by the minute. I slew one and it dropped a Star Cloak, at least according to the Guide Steve, when a foe damages me it causes purple stars to rain down from the heavens, exactly like the sword Star Fury but it is not draining my Mana energy. Matsu's Log-Part 5: I was able to find enough Cobalt, Mythril, and Adamantite to make full sets of armor. It appears when combining those Crystal Shards found in the Hallow with my prized Phaseblade collection has made them stronger, I call them Phasesabers. Matsu's Log- Part 6: By the gods. The Skybase Nimbus has been made unlivable. Powerful wall piercing Wyverns roam the skys, however the Souls seem to have bonded with the feathers of Harpies and the Souls of the Hallowed beasts giving me the wings of an angel. Matsu's Log- Part 7: I was delving into the darkened underground tainted by the Corruptions stranglehold when I saw the creatures in these caves hauling off scraps of metal and what appeared to be the remains of the long dead Eater of Worlds, I fear this greatly as I know what they are planning. Matsu's Log-Part 8: I found the Adamantite needed to craft a spear and prepared for the coming battle. I prepared a likeness of a metal plated Eater Doll to mock the corrupted beasts into releasing this new beast early. It worked. The beast was a dreadful fight but my Adamantite spear prevailed. The carcass of the beast was etched with text reading "The Destroyer" it's soul is powerful and has bonded with the Minishark, I have coined this new gun the Megashark. Matsu's Log-Part 9: I fought off the Destroyer again. It's Soul seems to have incredible power hidden inside, as it merged my Cobalt, Mythril, and Adamantite blades into one pearl white and heavenly gold sword, I have dubbed it Excalibur after a myth that old Mage fellow told me. It also appears these Crystal Shards have the ability to, not only improve Phaseblades, but to also graft themselves onto Musket Balls causing them to shatter and cause more damage upon striking a target. Matsu's Log-Part 10:The Mimics keep astonishing me by the minute. My latest kill dropped a dual grappling hook which I have taken to calling the Twin Hook. While not as long as my faithful old Ivy Whip it is light enough that I can throw it into the air again before the first hook catches or retracts. Matsu's Log-Part 11: I have noticed a stunning absence in Demon Eyes. The Guide says he has overheard murmurs of a mechanical beast, similar to the Destroyer but using the Eye's remains. By the gods this beast was...horrid. It was not only one Eye but two of the damned things bound by a tether of flesh. One scorched me with a gout of cursed flames while the other peppered me with lasers. It was a long and difficult battle but that that thing was slain. It's soul is powerful and has bonded with a a Bell that old Mage fellow had and some of my extra gold bars to form a Bell that Summons a small peaceful fairy who provides light in the darkness. Matsu's Log-Part 12: The Twins have made a return. The fight was easier this time around and their souls combined with one of the Mage fellows many Harps. Those strange Mummies in the Corrupted and Hallowed desert had strange symbols in their bandages. A Blood Moon is rising and I am losing hope. Matsu's Log-Part 13: Last night's Blood Moon was...eventful. The wall to the west of my house was breached and Corruption seeped across the desert. I have created a new wall greater then any of my others and filled the desert with Holy Water. It turns out those strange shards that the Mummies carried have combined with the souls of the creatures of Light and Night creating a new flail with Godly strength. A strange new challenge arose as well a strange demonic Clown showed up it began advancing toward the house and I slew it, it was carrying bombs and I got lucky. The Clothier has begun making clothing in its likeness and they are quite comfortable. Matsu's Log-Part 14: It would appear as though the Destroyer is being mass produced as I slew two more last night. Their souls combined with those of the creatures of Light, some Cobalt Bars, and some Mythril Bars creating Discs of pure Light. However the interesting thing I have to note is more strange treasures held by the Mimics. The latest one I killed had a Magic golden Dagger. It siphons my Mana energy and casts forth phantom daggers. Matsu's Log-Part 15(Christmas Special): Everything is at peace. The beasts of the world carry gifts. All is right. Except when those Snow Men freaks showed up, but they were quickly dealt with. Santa himself has even taken refuge with us and has given me one of his spare suits. Matsu's Log-Part 16: My worst fears are realized. I went to the Dungeon to see if it has been tainted by the Corruption and...they have somehow taken the leftover scraps from the carcass' of the Destroyer and the Twins and made Skeletron Prime. The fight was the hardest I have ever faced, but well worth it. The Souls left in the metal formed into newer stronger souls and when combined the Souls formed the strongest armor forged by men, The Hallowed Armor. I also found another Mimic on the way home, it's treasure was a Glove that gives me the strength of a Titan. Matsu's Log-Part 17: Skeletron Prime wasn't defeated. He came back again just as strong as before but he is now gone for good. His Souls merged my Spears into one of legend, the spear of the god Odin, Gungnir. The Souls of all these new beasts also combined into an all in one tool which the Guide aptly named the Hamdrax. With all of these new tools at my disposal I can now keep peace in this world once again. The End. Thank You For Reading. Here is a short story telling my take on the lore of the Dryad, the Old Man, and the Dungeon: [COMPLETE] The Book of Edgar The Book of Edgar If you are reading this that means you heeded the warning and can listen…it also means you have killed me. You are what is needed, someone who can follow the instructions, listen to the warnings. You are someone who can…fix what is broken. I don’t remember when all the changes started, I remember the big ones sure but…not the small subtle cracks. My mind is starting to go and I can feel the pull of this place this…prison…constantly. By the time you have found me I am sure what is left of my humanity was gone and I thank you for putting me out of my misery. My name is Edgar and this is my story. When I was younger I lived with my sister, Faye. She was always a child of nature; she would roam the outside lands and bring me the most exquisite silks and dyes. One day though something was off, she returned in frenzy, talking about some strange building she had found far to the east, she said it had pink bricks of all things. She said she saw rich tapestries hanging inside, furniture and chests brimming with riches. She said I had to come with her to see it and…I suppose that is where this all began in earnest. Reluctantly I followed her. We traveled for most of the day before we reached a building like none other I had ever seen. The place was massive, with soaring columns and lights hanging from the ceiling but, the most striking were the immaculate pink bricks. Not a single one was tarnished and they all seemed to shine. Faye led me further and further down into this…this place. We passed by rooms filled with treasure chests and ornate furniture. Something strange happened though. As we walked we came to what I can only describe as a storm held back by a thin layer of glass. Just beyond this glass clouds raged, some purple, some green and, some light blue. I begged Faye to turn around and that she we should leave but, something drew her to this wall. She stepped up to it, her eyes devoid of all light…she placed her hand upon it and that was when everything began to crumble. The wall shattered. The clouds that were held back started to billow out, one of deep purple and one of dark green seemed to spread the fastest, the two clouds poured out of the entrance like blood from a wound. I looked and saw that Faye had slumped to the ground. I ran to her and that is when I saw it happen, several of the clouds shot towards her, the purple one and one of a light blue contacted at the same instant and I saw her eyes flash between the two colors. The green cloud billowed into her back and her clothing ripped apart from the impact only to be replaced by leaves and vines. I didn’t know what to do, the clouds surrounded her in a whirlwind of colors all but one of the clouds spiraled around her. The cloud that didn’t clung low to the ground, it was more of a fog than anything and everywhere it touched bones began to rise. I needed to save her…but that fog called to me. She needed me but I felt the fog pull me in. That was when I first heard the voice, it sounded like stone grinding on stone, like the roar of distant thunder, and like death itself. “I can help you save her…for a price,” that horrid voice rasped. I knew this was evil and wrong, but she needed to be saved. She helped me for so long, looked out for me, and loved me. I needed to be there for her “Fine,” I said, I could hear my voice shaking, “just help her.” It happened in an instant; the white fog surrounded her, striking away all the other colors. It folded in on her and spirited her to the outside of this place, I ran scarcely able to keep up. I tried to run to her, her crumpled form sprawled out on the grass, but as I reached the edge of the brick walkway it was like my legs stopped listening to me. “You will find that you cannot leave,” that death like voice cackled. “What do you mean!? I need to see my sister,” I shouted. “You agreed to pay a price, now you will remain here…as my vessel for as long as you live. You cannot leave and you will not die,” It boomed. I was stunned. I heard the voice laugh, a disgusting sound that haunts me even now. Then the fog encircled me and before I knew it I felt my mouth opening. “Open wide,” the voice chortled, as it raced towards me, into my mouth, filling me with its anathema, I couldn’t take it and I blacked out. I awoke what must have been hours later, Faye was nowhere to be seen and the sun had long since fallen. I felt a horrid presence nestled in the back of my mind and I knew it was him. “You have slept for so long little one,” the voice hissed, this time was different though, instead of booming around me the voice shrieked inside of my head. “I am called Skeletron, but you will call me master,” it said. “Where is my sister,” I demanded. “Oh, she is gone. The other spirits took quite the toll on her, she will remember nothing, but will feel a constant tie towards the condition of the world.” I struggled to my feet and saw a young man striding towards my new home, my dungeon. Skeletron began to laugh in my head. “Tell him he must face your master if he wishes to enter,” he demanded. I did and I suppose you know what happens after I do that. That was so long ago, I have lost track of the years. I warn you now adventurer, heed what you have read here. Do not let the taint of this place beguile you. If you have bested Skeletron you have what it takes to grow strong enough to keep peace in this world, use what you find in here to the best of your abilities and please if you have by some chance run across my dear Faye, do not show her this, I would hate for her to think on my wretched fate. This short piece borrows on the old Holly Jolly Christmas classic. It was made to celebrate the holiday 2014 season.: [COMPLETE] Holly Jolly Frost Moon Have a holly, jolly Frost Moon; It's the hardest part in the game I don't know if there'll be snow but there’ll be lots of fear. Have a holly, jolly Frost; And when you grind out those waves Say, “Hell no,” to NK1 And even Everscream. Oh ho the Razorpine dropped where I can’t reach; Ice Queen is still alive; She just shot at me. Have a holly jolly Frost Moon and in case you didn't hear Oh by golly have a holly jolly Frost Moon this year. This was made by the lovely @Qui Devorat. He told me to put it here so here it shall be put: [COMPLETE] Qui Devorat's Poem Jingle bells, Santa smells, We've all heard that little rhyme But the man himself will travel many miles To make you pay for that crime. As you wake one Xmas morning Finding a parcel outside your house The letter anonymous And as delicate as a mouse. "This really must be barmy!" At the air you cry in a fit For this guy Wants to awaken an army And feed your head to it. The early waves are a playful tease Through A hail of bullets they drop But as you find a little later That it'll take more for them to stop The waves progress, Consider the urge to flee Or be torn apart by an angry xmas tree. you dodge the pine bullets, your mind goes blank As out of the woods trundles a santank. You push on. The urge to fight. Not having been wounded a slight The santanks fall, the everscreams perish. "Ha! Easier than catching fish!" But your hopes drop, and so does your face As you see the thing that'll kill you with grace It's the creature that only legends have seen. The one, but not only Ice Queen! This is a short poem about the Goblin Tinkerer and the Mechanic: [COMPLETE] A Goblin's Love I see her standing there, and I want her to love me. Her hair of flaming red, her brain so big in her head. She is the only one, that can understand my kind of fun. I see her standing there, and I want her to love me. He found her in the dungeon. She knows how to tinker, she is quite the thinker. I need her love, more than the light from the sun above. He found her in the dungeon. I see her standing there, and I want her to love me. She doesn’t know of my intent, and with that I am content. One day she will love me, as I do she. I see her standing there, and I want her to love me. This short story covers my take on the lore of the Arm's Dealer and the Demolitionist: [WIP] The Deal with Arms The Deal with Arms When I was a young man, my mother told me, “Always be a good boy, don’t ever play with guns.” In hindsight I really should have listened to her. My name is Bronson, and this is how I came to live in some remote village, in a hostile unforgiving land, selling guns to a nutcase, and having to put up with a dwarf that reeks of sulfur. I used to have a respectable job, well if you define smuggling as respectable. I was the number one supplier of guns, ammo, and general firepower for miles. Then one day I hear about some kid in some back water plot of land who is attracting people and building up quite the arsenal. I figured it would be only natural to…pay him a visit and advertise my services. I guess that is where I went wrong. The place seemed normal enough. Solid construction, high walls, that sort of thing. Everyone there seemed to be milling about aimlessly, until a loud boom was heard. All those different people looked around to see…an odd sight to say the least. A short fellow, with a grizzled red beard ran past covered in soot and reeking of smoke. Behind him strolled a fellow in full armor and carrying a sword, based on the look on his face I would say that explosion did not go as planned. I knew right away that this was my man. I pushed through the crowd to try and get a better look at him, but I was stopped by a brown haired man with a clip-board, “Name and occupation?” he said looking at me. I fixed the fellow with my most heated glare, it had never failed me before, but he simply stood before me looking right into my eyes. It seemed he was one that wouldn’t frighten easily, “Bronson, I am a procurer of…certain goods. I think that warrior of yours might find my services intriguing.” As I let the words flow the brown haired man wrote on his clipboard, his pen scratching and scratching on the paper. He looked me up and down, before quickly jotting another note down. He looked over the gathered crowd and I followed his gaze, it seemed that the warrior of theirs was giving the dwarf a stern talking to. It was something about, “Bombs being too small scale.” As I let my gaze linger on the scene, the brown haired man tapped my shoulder, “You will stay with Fikod tonight. The “warrior” as you call him, will see you in the morning.” With that the man turned sharply on his heel, and stalked towards the warrior. As he arrived the dwarf skittered off and the brown haired man began to recite a litany of numbers and statistics to the warrior. What had I gotten myself into? This short story was made for The Boreal Bookshelf, I have ported it here so it can be better archived with my other work. This short piece tells my take on the lore of the Pirate and the Angler: [COMPLETE] An Old Sea Dog's Folly An Old Sea Dog’s Folly My name is Garry. Due to my somewhat illustrious career I have been dubbed, “Gunpowder Garry.” When I was a younger man I fell in love, as all mortal men do and sired a son. I loved that boy with all my heart, but sadly I would never get to see him grow. One night there was a terrible storm and my humble vessel was tossed about like a feather in a hurricane. As we finally righted the vessel my beloved son was nowhere to be found. We scoured the ship and all the nearby islands, but alas we found neither hide nor hair of the boy. My wife was so distraught she cast herself into the sea one dark night. So now I carry on in her memory. I put forth my collection of wealth and resources into finding my son. One day I hope that I will see him again; even he doesn’t know me from a rock. I’ll always know he is my son, and I will watch over him. I hope I can find him soon, I miss him so much. I have heard rumors about an island nearby that has some young fishing prodigy living in it. Based on the boys reported age, it seems like he might be my son. I made landfall in the evening and snuck up to this village. It seems like the boy is being held by a mass of adults. Many of them seem to stay in the village, one of them though seems to go out and fight the creatures of this land. It seems like this will be simple, my crew will swarm in, grab the boy and go. It seems as though that one fighter of theirs has spotted us. I saw him standing at the top of a hill, blade drawn as he watched us swarm onto the land. He fought with such ferocity; his weapons rent utter destruction upon my crew. There is only one thing I can do now. I need to gain the trust of that fighter. He seems to be in charge in this place…If I can explain to him…maybe he’ll let me stay near my son. I went to the man in secret, I found him during one of his trips outside of his compound. I explained to him my plight and he listened in a contemplative silence. After several minutes, he finally nodded his head and said I was welcome in his village. I have decided not to tell my son about why I am here. He has a life here, and I don’t want to throw that into turmoil. Like the others that live here he thinks that their leader simply took pity on me and is allowing me to stay here. I have finally found him darling, I have finally found our boy. This is another piece ported from The Boreal Bookshelf. This short story tells my take on the lore of the Wizard, the Witch Doctor, and the Jungle Temple: [COMPLETE] A Difference of Opinion A Difference of Opinion My name is Berwyn, I am a great and powerful mage. Well, I thought I was at least. In the place I am from magic is a simple a tame thing. It has control, structure, and order. Until recently I thought this was the form of all magic, but I was wrong. I heard tell of a strange land that had recently sprung up, with magic abounds. I hastened to it and found that its magic was like none I had seen before. The magic there was…wild, untamed, and glorious. It seemed as though the place had no mages to control it, at least none that I saw when I arrived. I walked the lands of this place, seeing the diversity of its nature. After hours of wandering I came upon what appeared to be a massive jungle. I heard strange chanting coming from on of the caverns in this place and I knew I had to investigate. As I entered the gaping maw of the cave the chanting only grew louder. I stuck to the shadows as I followed the winding path downward, ever downward. Eventually I came upon a large natural chamber within the earth. Within it there were several strange creatures, some odd amalgamations of lizards and men, dancing and chanting. They were doing there hectic dance around a strange dias, upon which stood another of these strange lizard-men, this one though was ornately dressed and wore a mask of carved bone. In its clawed hand it held a staff, it moved the staff through the air. The staff was swung in wide arcs, coming only a hairsbreadth above the heads of the dancers, before soaring back into the air. As the staff moved a strange trail of light began to follow it and the dancing figures grew even more hectic, their chanting reaching a feverish staccato. Eventually the staff bearing lizard-man brought the butt of his staff down upon the ground, causing a thunder like clap to boom and echo throughout the cavern. The dancers all stopped statue still and fell to the ground in a single synchronized moment, prostrating themselves before the staff bearer. With the dancing and chanting lizard-men on the ground the staff bearer began to moan in a low guttural song. Berwyn could not make out the words, but he knew this was an incantation for a spell. As the staff bearer continued his low chant the very air seemed to hum with power, it seemed as though the universe would break like the strings of an over tuned harp if this went on much longer. Suddenly with no warning two glowing spheres appeared behind the staff bearer. Menace radiated off of them like heat from the hottest oven. The tension was broken as a stone hand shot from the darkness, lighting quick, and grabbed one of the prostrating lizards pulling him towards the darkness, towards those spheres. Without meaning to Berwyn let out a squeal of dread. Every head swiveled to face him, the prostrating lizards balanced on all fours, their haunches raised, like savage dogs. The staff bearer pointed at him and began to shout in his horrid language. As one the wave of lizard men loped towards him, ready to rip him apart. As the lizard-men jumped on him Berwyn was able to only let out a muted scream. He was dragged forth in front of the staff bearer and examined closely. The staff bearer circled him and prodded at him with both hand and staff. Berwyn was only able to stay calm due to his years of training at the magic academy. “My name is Berwyn, I am a great mage. Do you understand me?” He said as the staff bearer continued to circle. There was no response only a sharp blow to the back of the head and the quick embrace of unconsciousness. He awoke to the feel on rough stone against his face. He turned over and noticed the restraints around his wrists and ankles. He looked around and saw rough brown brick around himself. Several of those lizard-men were moving about, oblivious to his presence, some worked on chiseling away at statues, while others were shaping wood into tables and chairs. He saw the staff bearer sitting in a chair on the other side of the chamber, facing him. Weighing him. As Berwyn looked at the staff bearing lizard man, the creature rose and began to stalk towards the mage with the nonchalant grace of a creature used to killing. As it got within striking distance of Berwyn the creature rasped something out in its guttural language and two of the workers lifted him to his feet and broke the restraints. “Welcome to temple,” the staff bearer stated, his accent on the words was rough and grating. “Where am I? What is this place,” Berwyn stammered as he was pressed by that awe inspiring gaze. “This is temple. Soon all will be temple. All will know Lihzahrd,” the staff bearer stated, in an almost musing tone. “With such great magics, why do you need violence? Couldn’t you help the world,” Berwyn pleaded, his voice growing more heated with every word. If there was one thing he hated, it was people that abused magic for power. “Bah! Help…you sound like my fool brother,” the…Lihzahrd, rasped. “I let you flee, human. Go warn your people. The Golem will relish battle,” with that the Lihzarhd and all the others around him began to cackle. Berwyn ran, stumbling through this Temple, until he eventually reached day light. He ran through the Jungle, eager to return home and be away from this foul place. He was stopped though, by a sight that terrified him. Another of those Lihzarhds was standing on a small hillock at the edge of the Jungle watching him. This one was different though, he bore a staff like the other one, but he also wore a strange mask that completely covered his face. He walked down towards Berwyn, with the same cat like grace of all of his people and stood before him. He held out his hand, and in a voice that sounded like stone rubbing on stone said, “My name is Xirigua. I see you have been let out.” As I stared at the strange lihzarhd, Xirigua, I was perplexed. Was he also like me, did he think magic was meant to help people? “I have seen things,” he said, “a great champion will come to this land. He will be strong enough to fight the Golem and destroy the temple. He will need our help though.” I was never one to put much stock into premonition, but something about what he said stuck with me. I knew he was right, and that I had to do what he asked of me. “Alright, I suppose I’d best go into hiding then. I’m getting as far away from this jungle as I can.” With that I left, striding off towards the sunset. I knew that I now had a purpose in this world. I would help this place, and instate a new age of peaceful magic and great wonders. This is a project that I have been working closely with @Samrux on. It ties in with his story of the Paladin's lore, which can be found here. It follows the story of a group of heroes wandering in the newly formed Dungeon, looking for their friend: [COMPLETE] The Dark Dungeon The Dark Dungeon It has been two weeks since the Dungeon fell. After hours of debate the lord captain has given leave to ten of us to find our friend, to find Samrux. Those embarking on the expedition are Trebid, Markus, Rembren, Maria, Darius, Salia, Travis, Saul, Sara, and I Halwind. We don’t know what to expect in the horrid place, but we can only hope our training can help us persevere. We rode swift and true to the Dungeon and what we saw took our breath from our very chests. The place was buried under rubble and rock; the once proud shining bricks of the place were now dull and cracked. However, the most shocking thing was the miasma of pure evil that seemed to be hanging over the place. Before we even crossed the threshold Markus and Saul prostrated themselves in prayer, the fear was showing plainly in their eyes. We all steeled our nerves and walked cautiously towards the entrance into the abyss. The place was eerily silent, the single door barely held up by its hinges. I reached out with my spear to prod the door open, and it swung inward with a sickening groan. As the door reached the apex of its opening we were struck full on by the horrid smell of death and decay that wafted out from the bowels of this place. God preserve us. As we entered the stygian abyss we were…taken aback. In this place most unholy, sacred candles still burned. Their azure flames flickered gently, casting the place in a sinister light. To think these candles can provide such comfort, or instill such dread. The others sunk to their knees in prayer, not feeling the same trepidation as myself it seemed, and began to pray amid the blood and charnel that coated the ground. After the others recited their prayer, Markus and Saul having had their usual argument about what color water really is, we forged onward. The stench became unbearable, we thought it would never get worse until we heard the moaning. A horrid guttural thing full of madness and pain. We saw a man crouched in the corner, behind a squalid bookcase. His grubby burlap rags were coated in blood and excrement. Maria stepped closer to work her healing arts on the man, but as she did, her foot stepped on a loose tile and we heard a sharp click. The dart hit her within seconds, knocking her off her feet and burrowing into her leg. Before we could aid her however, the man sprung on her like a feral dog. He was clawing and biting into her before we arrived. I skewered him on my spear and sent him flying, but we were too late. Maria was dead with her throat chewed out. I turned to look on her killer as Trebid began to preform rites on her body and I was shocked. Half of his face seemed to be melted away, the skin gone showing the pale bone beneath. God protect us. After hours of marching through this horrid place we stopped to rest and recover. Everyone was silent, even after prayers Saul and Markus did not have their debate. We are all weary, faith is running thin. We encountered more of those feral men, and put down each and every one. They all seemed to share the same aggressive madness and all had flesh that was melting away. We found two more of those traps that launch forth the darts. I have taken to marching in the front and prodding the ground with my spear in an attempt to trigger them. The longer we have been here, the more the moaning has grown. It has begun to ensnare and smother us, like the thickest blanket. Even now Rembren, the softest soul of us all, flinches when the moans swell into a feverish chorus. I see a fear in the youth’s eyes; I fear he will break soon. It is a shame one so young, must see this horror beyond imagining. As the others remained in their quiet vigil, clustered around the small fire they had built, I ranged out. I tried to stay in the range of the light, but something drew me forward. I saw a singular brick unlike any other, it bore a large crater like dent on its surface and I knew. Sam was here, only his hammer could do this. I knew my friend was alive, and we needed to find him soon. Before he became just another rabid, moaning voice. God hasten us. Today was a dark day indeed. I was right in my assumption that a fear was growing in young Rembren. As we struggled forward, putting down only one more of those rotting men, the youth began to slow. I signaled a stop to the march, the others set about their business of prayer or nourishment. I went to talk to the lad, and I could the shakes visibly plaguing the boy. His hand was in a white knuckled grip on the hilt of his sword. I tried to speak to the lad, but he seemed distant and far away. His eyes were blank and hollow. Out of the stillness a scream ripped apart the air, a deep and gurgling thing from deep in the dungeon. This must have been the last straw, as the boy broke. He began to sprint away from us, back towards the entrance, so long passed. The boy moved in a broken ungainly gait, and I realize only know that the madness of this place must have seeped into him. I gave a shout to the others before following, and after a moment of confusion they followed. Alas, I was too slow. As the boy ran, I heard a keening sound. It was almost like a wasp moving through the air…or an arrow loosed from a bow. I saw a strange light began to swell from a corridor off to the side, as a disc, roughly the size of a man, and paper thin shot forth, heading right towards Rembren. The glowing disc cleaved through the lad, like a honed knife through the thinnest paper, and kept moving onward. I ran to grab the lads body, but I was grabbed from behind and pulled away by Saul. He pointed towards Rembren’s body, now being set upon by rotting skeletal men. We ran from that fight, the image of Rembren’s ruined body burned into my mind. I couldn’t even retrieve his sword. God spare us. I awoke in a cold sweat. Even though the fire was strong, and the light seemed to repel the horrors of this place, I still felt uneasy. I sat for what seemed like hours, watching the flickering flame and listening to the nightmarish chorus that seemed to be soaked into the very bricks of this place. If only I few hours in this place has done this to me, I fear greatly for the sanity of Sam. He was always strong willed, and many thought him the best of us. Could any man survive in here without losing a piece of their self’s though. I fear that even if we find Sam, he will not be the same as when we last saw him. Already we have lost many people. I can see them in my nightmares. My stupor was suddenly drowned out by a deafening silence. I saw the flicker of light first, and then I saw the wall warp and change. The surface seemed to ripple like water, before bulging outward. A luminescent skull floated from this strange ripple and seemed to peer at me. Its ghastly visage locked into a cruel grin. I thought the horrors here would end with the rotting men. Now it seems the very walls of this place are spawning grounds for evil. God embolden us. We lost two today; that skull that I saw last night burst forth from the wall again as we descended. It rammed straight into Travis and through some dark machination he was unable to draw his blade. Salia tried to help, she ran to shield him and batter the thing away but another burst from the wall. The spectral skulls burst forth from the wall like puss from a boil. They swarmed over the two, they couldn’t even defend themselves. After the swarm had done their vile business they surged back into the walls. Travis and Salia were both savaged, the skin ripped clean from their bones their bodies broken and contorted. Darius and Saul gave them their rites while Markus helped me chisel away a rough grave for them in the floor of this place. I begin to wonder if coming after Sam was a fool’s errand, destined to end in the death of us all. The stench of blood fills my nostrils. This place is a nightmare from which I cannot wake. Walking through the labyrinth of death and charnel is starting to take its toll on everyone. We do not know how long it has been since we have seen the sun. We are still finding sacred candles burning; their flickering blue flame provides only a little succor. God save us. I should have noticed it earlier for if I had I could have stopped this most recent tragedy. As we lay in rest I awoke to the sound of a loud snap. It sounded like the crunch of a bone, I sprung upward ready to defend us against one of those undead fiends, but what I saw instilled a greater fear in me than anything else could. Markus was kneeling over Saul and all that could be heard was a loud sucking squelching sound. As I took a step forward Markus turned to face me and what I saw turned my blood to ice. His helmet was gone, and his face was covered in blood. A large piece of the skin on his head had melted away, leaving a stripe of pale bone. He held a cracked bone in his left hand and I could see that he was gorging himself on the marrow. Like a vicious dog. I took another step towards him but he bolted into the darkness. One of our own had turned into one of the undead. The foul miasma that filled this horrid place was starting to take its toll. I wonder how much longer we can stay here. If we make it out will we be the same? Will I ever be able to live with what I now know? God guide us. I fear the madness in this place takes on many forms. While I have seen it in two states, the rage that has overtaken most and the fear that overtook Rembren, I think that a third form of this madness exists. I think a madness that wipes away everything but the basest traits of a person is taking hold. Trebid was always studious and since we have been here I have seen him writing away in his journal. Around the campfire I caught a glimpse over his shoulder and saw what he was writing in there. He was transcribing the Water Bolt spell rune by rune into the book. Every piece by memory and every piece perfect. Once Sara and I awoke I saw Trebid standing near a wall, his completed transcription lying on the ground. He was dragging his nails along the wall, writing the spell again. Already the skin of his fingers was worn raw and he was leaving a trail of blood. We left him. I wonder what this madness would do to Sam…maybe his sense of duty… God answer us. All has been lost. As we stumbled through the dark corridors of this Hell, I heard Sara’s sobs above all else. My heart is as heavy as lead, and thrice as dark. As we continued on our suicidal march, things became eerily still. As though we were on holy ground; I stopped suddenly, causing Sara to collide with my back. We were on the edge of a large circular room, and in its center…huddled Sam. He looked so…small…so broken. I stood dumbfounded, but Sara…Sara sprung to action, she ran to him I only noticed too late the tenseness in his posture. It must have been instinct that drove him to act, as she got within arm’s reach, thinking to embrace our lost brother, he shot forward like a quarrel loosed from a crossbow. His left shoulder plowed into her stomach sending them both tumbling to the ground. Sara was pinned under Sam, and I saw his right hand rise into the air, balled into a cruel fist; he brought his fist down hard into her temple. There was a sickening crunch as Sara’s skull caved inward, the life leaving her. As he pulled himself off of her body I heard him mutter. He was reciting the Litany of the Flows, the first prayer that any novice learns. His mind was broken and warped, but I couldn’t put him down like the rest. He was a brother to me…he was family. I turned and began to retrace the path to the exit as I walked down the corridor I thought I heard Sam…I thought I heard him say…Hal. I turned around then, and saw that he was gone with those skeletal fiends already tearing into Sara’s body. My friend is gone, and this fool errand has led to the death of our order. God…has abandoned us. This short piece was made by the lovely @Shadow gamer , it tells the story of Duke Fishron...with a few twists and turns: [COMPLETE] Duke Fishron! There once was a little Regal Tang (looks like dory from finding nemo) who had just lost it's mom and dad and was now swimming in the sea, alone. This little Tang named Duke was very adventurous and while swimming he saw a little bit of worm in the water. He had heard so much about worms and how delicious they were so he had to get just a little bite. But when he bit it he felt a sharp pain and then right when that had happened he learned it was a trap. But this was not just any worm, it was a Truffle Worm the best one of all. He was then pulled up but he noticed that this person did not look like it was about to harm him, instead the person kept him safe. The person took Duke to a lab where a scientist named @darthmorf took little Duke and put him in a big tube. The doctor always kept good care of the creature and fed him the delicious Truffle Worm. But little did the doctor know that Truffle Worms can basically mutate creatures. Duke started growing bigger and bigger everyday, Duke also began growing wings and long tusks. One day the doctor was going to have an inspection from... well an inspector, so he had to make it look like Duke was one of his experiments. So he gave him the label name Fishron. Right when the inspector saw Duke he thought it was amazing and said that Doctor Darthmorf was going to have to give him Fishron so he could show it off to the world. At first the doctor declined but then when the inspector paid him $10,000 the doctor quickly gave Duke to the inspector. While on a tour Duke was able to get out of the car that they were taking on a tour. Duke quickly crawled to sea and searched for his master, doctor darthmorf. Every time Duke sees a Truffle Worm he bites it to see if it is his master, and when he notices it is not he tries to kill the person who got him. To this day Duke is still on the search for his beloved master. -Shadow Gamer This happened, and I let it happen. [COMPLETE] A Sonnet for Tsuki or "Tsuki, I love you-ki." A woman who is much like a queen, Her lovely words hidden and pure, Whose deepest secrets we cannot hope to glean, Her heart unwavering, and her presence sure. Her hair is a lovely raven black, Her skin as pale as new fallen snow, Next to her all others surely lack, How such beauty is attained none do know. Her moods are a wild erratic dance, She flits and flitters like a dragonfly, When simply near her I fall into a trance, All others seem dull when she is nearby. To my deepest heart you hold the key, I wish you would use my dear Tsuki. W1K was gonna be beat up, so I made this. [COMPLETE] A Sonnet for W1K or "W1K the Slick" This is a story for our favorite coder, A maker of dreams and fantastic mods, Though many would say a free loader, As weird as any born from pods. From the fabled land of Not Italy, A place of pasta and meaty sauce, The land where pizza is given free, Many who visit are at a loss. The user of the phrase,“ayy? lmao?” A player of games both old and new, The cleverness of it would wrinkle any brow, Many would kill to be in W1K’s crew. My dear chum W1K, I wonder why you are so slick. I don't even anymore. [COMPLETE] A Sonnet for Suweeka or "Suweeka the Artist" A being well acquainted with the muse, A lover of all things drawn and painted, Whose artistic talent many choose, With whom many wish they were acquainted. Of burning cyan Oni's passion rages, I thinker and knower of all things art, Filling sketchbooks of many pages, From whom a pencil is never apart. Creator of Haqu whom we love most of all, A master of chibi and animals too, On artistic legs standing so tall, Maybe one day the Oni will draw you. Your art touches us so much my lovely Suweeka, Nothing rhymes with Suweeka.