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The Raven Throne


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Quite right, left is the way to go. More...sinister. Get it?

...a dark cavern with impossibly high ceilings. Dark crystal stalactites were scattered randomly in varying degrees of girth. The smell of burning sulphur was in the air. A constant drip drip dripping was heard and the ground was wet with lime, water and an unknown black tar.

BT signaled the Scholar to train the lights to the far reaches of the cavern.

There, almost unseen was a campfire, covered almost entirely by the breadth of a large Trolloc's back. There were three others beside it. And when there was one, expect there to be more.

The Trolloc, its horns protruding from a bull like face, put out his hand at the light being trained on its eyes.

"Rrrraaaargg...!", it roared, almost questioningly. Then it stood up and advanced, mail clinking with every step.

The group readied its weapons and...

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TMove! Mat yelled. He promptly followed his own advice by jumping off to the right. At almost the same instant, a knife appeared in his hand. With a snap of the wrist, the knife darted toward the trolloc, followed almost instantly by Mat.

The others were no less quick to respond. They burst into motion......

Edited by Matrim Bloody Cauthon
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The Scholar Turned the lights on higher so that it would be harder for the Trollocs and so everyone could see clearly. Then he sniped the Trolloc QC was about to kill.

The rest fell quickly to the questers and LeftInch checked to see if there was anything cool on the corpses. All there was was a tiny statue of QC. It was even painted well. He thought it might be made out of digi-rock. The Scholar slipped it into his pick proof pocket.

 

"Well lets keep moving people. What shall we sing this time as we head down to caverns deep?"

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Hey Mat, let me Google that for you. Seriously, just use color=blue or color=#0000FF wrapped in brackets.

 

Leftinch, a tiny statue of me, huh. This may be weird but it suddenly reminded me of the male and female sa'angreal linked to the huge statues in Tremonsien and Tremalking.

 

Her bloodthirst unquenched, the Mistress walked silently. There was something there, a power that resonated within her and then just like that, it was gone.

 

She dimly heard the Scholar call for another song but she was preoccupied with something else.

Just recently, one of her good friends accidentally took some Pure Wafflerasium, making him, instantly a slave. An unwanted one. And even though she knew that there was no cure for the compulsion caused by the dark spice, she still wondered whether perhaps her nemesis was right. Could he have truly found a clue to the cure?

 

She continued down the caverns, shields up but alert for any danger. She was in no mood for singing. If there was any song she could connect with the moment and the darkness of the caverns, it was Dance with Jak o' the Shadows.

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She was puzzled at why he called her the name of the Daughter of the Night. True, she wore white most times, but when in the Raven Throne, she preferred red. She wore cour'souvras like a string of ears or scalps around an Indian Chief's neck. She liked her trophies. No, she wasn't one of the Forsaken at all. She was something else.

...Well. That's not scary at all. 

 

You have my sympathy Leftfinch.

Edited by Quiver
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Well, that is why I'm going on this quest after all

 

As the group headed along the cavern it started to narrow back to tunnel ish proportions. The smell of honey and bamboo started to waft towards them. LeftInch set up the lights and revealed............Pandas!!!!

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But there was no way out. The Pandas had swiftly blocked the exits and entrances. The adventurers could only pass if they could sit through what some described as hell incarnate, the destroyer of sanity, the harbringer of mandness.

 

They had to sit through a tirade of bad puns.

 

Are you ready?

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ah i need to stop reading these i cant blink anymore i feel like i have ironeyes.

 

anyhow i am not going to hoid the fact that im more of a storyteller rather than a pun maker so i will just "stick" to what i am and tell a story.

 

this morning i went to put change in my first union bank when my coinshot away. the coin lurched away and fell under a table. i had to go and lift the dinner table to retrieve it. i stood back up and felt my eyes drawn to the window. i then noticed the gathering storm outside. it was misting up and i nearly started weeping because it had rained constantly for the last few weeks the sun was but a memory of light. outside a lightning bolt disintegrated a tree, i tensored up waiting...

 

odium is that the time. I have to hurry my time here is wayning. storm it my dad took my car again. I just put on a new coat of wax. he had better not take it through the miles of rough trails outside the city. a-don-al-sium later and tell him to stop taking my car then. if he crashes it he had better hope that he has a hundred lives because that would be the second thing he ruined of mine today. first he splintered my bow earlier today he didn't even apologize, he only has a sliver of honor.

 

alright enough of this story this started low and went down from there. this story is over im dun writing.

 

i doubt this story awakened you to the beauty of literature, managed to steel you heart, spike your emotions, or even that it took you breath away but what can i say im not that good of a storyteller.

 

something like that maybe?

Edited by Matrim Bloody Cauthon
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As the Scholar passed the pandas one of them slipped him a tiny statue of Matrim, made of the same material as QC's.

 

"All right well let's head out. Does Dune have songs? I can't remember.........."

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A door ahead slides open, and a figure in a long flowing dress steps out, then glances sharply towards the crowd coming down the corridor. She jerks her hands into her sleeves, as if  hiding something. Then she stands up straight and tilts her head to the side, smiling knowingly, before turning on her heel and disappearing in a swirl of maroon-tinted blackness, so fast that she almost might not have been there at all.

Edited by Delightful
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Sorry Lads and Lady, I've been feeling a right pile of Chull Dung the last couple of days

 

BT strolled through the hallways behind the group a short ways whistling "Cadence to Arms" to himself. He walked in his gleaming Black and Silver trimmed Shardplate and carried Reaver, his two handed black broadsword, in his right hand ready to fight anything that came next. 

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