Day to day, it was a journey inside his own mind. Inside his soul, lots of searching, a little finding at the end of each day. Slowly, he could feel the great burden of the slaughter begin to lift, not leave, but rest a little more gingerly upon his broad shoulders. With the nights, the blood and the murder returned to him, drving into his head, a ( Read more... )

The dreams came again, much the same as they had been since that night. Blood awash, elves looking at him, their mouth's agape in silent horror. He tried to stop his hands from working. Desperately fought against his own head, tried to hoold back his hands from delivering the coup de grace' to the elven people ( Read more... )

...alone in a field, a field of bodies and blood. His hands awash in the colour. Red seemed to stain everywhere, and though, it was red and a bit on the pleasing side, it had a certain taint to it. A taint that could only be givin in the case of cold-murder. Voices echoed through the chambers, surrounding him, drow voice, duergar voices, and other ( Read more... )

Two days of walking through the strange and yet, soothing Underdark led the war party to the rising staircase, hewn out of the mushroom stalks and then solidified by Lolth's magicks, had frozen these once heavily traveled stairs into the only entrance left to the Sun elves' homelands. The band had now grown into a batallion, 1,050 strong (200 ( Read more... )

Three days travel by underground and underdark routes. 'Black-Swords' and 'Axes' were the only Dwarves man enough to answer the humans plea for help. Nairaith smiled, the axe resting gently upon his back, despite its encumbersome size, its weight was light and its edge was sharp. He looked at those around him, 115 members from the 'Axe' families, ( Read more... )

He looked out to the stars. The last night at Steel-Forge. He looked around, mainly to see if anyone was near him, then reached into a pocket and took out a couple pieces of paper. One had written on it the note that had come from many distant lands away ( Read more... )

His sleep that night had been atrocious. Haunting nightmares of the places he'd adventured and the friends he had seen come and go plagued his dreams. He awoke, and found the house was empty. After putting on his clothes he walked down the halls to the throne room, he knew this would be the big day ( Read more... )

Politics. Nairaith "Oracle" Iron-Axe was sick, and tired of politics. It had been 27 years since he had returned to his home. he had rounded out his abilities over the many years of adventuring, becoming a skilled artisan in the craft of smithing, traveling and refining his skill with weapons, the Greataxe mostly, and slowly over the years seeign ( Read more... )

I'm going to use this Livejournal to write stories about D&D/other RPG characters ( Read more... )