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It’s time the get medieval with your comp.
Endmaker
IN a burning village I stood – lost – the heavy stench of death slowly suffocating me. God only knows how I came to tread there, stumbling thru those corpse-laden streets of dust and flame, but it would be the last place mine mortal eyes would ever see.
Thru the infested red myst came a stooping figure cloak’d in rags, his wizen’d visage distorted by the grizzling pox. He greeted me with a snarling scoff, then handed o’er a litter of parchment wrap’d in a scuff’d black binding. Emblazon’d on the frontpiece in peeling goldleaf was the book’s title: Di Siniistra Vul dBud Ig Prospero Lux. The partially burnt pages of vellum contain’d naught but undecipherable scrawl, yet as I held that char’d tome in mine grimy palms, nox-kist revelations rose up and crash’d toward mine dreaming-eye like a tidal wave of blood.
…I saw spires of crooked steel propel’d by wheels of eddying fire: the impaling spears and damn’d halos of Hell's vicious drone; t’was a dark advance of unstoppable putrid force – the ultimate infection.
I heard the raucous howls of the victorious, their frenzy’d delight in malicious slaughter chill’d mine wits to the very roots. Allover and thru did the thick curling smoke of human pyres dominate mine mesmeric reverie.
And then I saw Him – the reason in the resin of evil – standing bright and shining atop an obelisk of diamonding light: the Overseer of Finality, the Master of The End -
dBud.
And I remember’d how upon His head rested the bejewel’d crown of the new and predestined land.
And how His words of power and purpose echo’d thru-out that land.
And how the populace thereof adored Him and obey’d Him as servitors of the Faith.
And how the tidings of His rise to rulership had spread with great swiftness to many of the surrounding states.
And how the people thereof did tremble in fear of His eldritch arriving.
And how this enchantment of fear and trembling would (in The Master's own words):
"Secure easy victory for mine Engine of Total War! Most in our path wilt surrender and becometh our slaves! Those who resist wilt be tortured and slain by mine destroyers of beautiful power!"
Furthermore, I remember’d how a sinister and elite guild under The Master's guidance and control was formulating a fell stratagem named The DisEase, which dBud ardently believed would becloud every state of every nation on every continent.
And I remember’d besides how with sardonic foretaste He did promise that His global beginning would be rich and dripping with the magickal blood of the pure and the innocent.
And how His legions of Black Striders would murder for their sport and rape for their sex.
And how even men of famed courage would decay into a craven mediocrity of compliant dread.
And how the minds of every woman and girlchild would know only of food and forced fornication.
Moreover, I remember’d that The Master dBud be the dark and terrible god.
And that the true name of the dark and terrible god be the number of the Endmaker.
And that the number of the Endmaker was verily the Number of the Great Wild Beast.
And that the Great Beast was TO MEGA THERION – the Lord of the dance of Doom.
And that the dance of Doom must signal the absolute devastation of all and every thing that maketh the now of the human world.
With hands a-tremble I slap’d the black book shut then gazed at the red sky – t’was falling, falling, riddled with infected dust and flame.
"The death-will of dBud is god!" hiss’d the cloak’d figure as he turn’d and limp’d away t’ward the arch-gate of a crumbling keep.
…In a burning village I stood – lost – the heavy stench of death slowly suffocating me…
Endmaker
IN a burning village I stood – lost – the heavy stench of death slowly suffocating me. God only knows how I came to tread there, stumbling thru those corpse-laden streets of dust and flame, but it would be the last place mine mortal eyes would ever see.
Thru the infested red myst came a stooping figure cloak’d in rags, his wizen’d visage distorted by the grizzling pox. He greeted me with a snarling scoff, then handed o’er a litter of parchment wrap’d in a scuff’d black binding. Emblazon’d on the frontpiece in peeling goldleaf was the book’s title: Di Siniistra Vul dBud Ig Prospero Lux. The partially burnt pages of vellum contain’d naught but undecipherable scrawl, yet as I held that char’d tome in mine grimy palms, nox-kist revelations rose up and crash’d toward mine dreaming-eye like a tidal wave of blood.
…I saw spires of crooked steel propel’d by wheels of eddying fire: the impaling spears and damn’d halos of Hell's vicious drone; t’was a dark advance of unstoppable putrid force – the ultimate infection.
I heard the raucous howls of the victorious, their frenzy’d delight in malicious slaughter chill’d mine wits to the very roots. Allover and thru did the thick curling smoke of human pyres dominate mine mesmeric reverie.
And then I saw Him – the reason in the resin of evil – standing bright and shining atop an obelisk of diamonding light: the Overseer of Finality, the Master of The End -
dBud.
And I remember’d how upon His head rested the bejewel’d crown of the new and predestined land.
And how His words of power and purpose echo’d thru-out that land.
And how the populace thereof adored Him and obey’d Him as servitors of the Faith.
And how the tidings of His rise to rulership had spread with great swiftness to many of the surrounding states.
And how the people thereof did tremble in fear of His eldritch arriving.
And how this enchantment of fear and trembling would (in The Master's own words):
"Secure easy victory for mine Engine of Total War! Most in our path wilt surrender and becometh our slaves! Those who resist wilt be tortured and slain by mine destroyers of beautiful power!"
Furthermore, I remember’d how a sinister and elite guild under The Master's guidance and control was formulating a fell stratagem named The DisEase, which dBud ardently believed would becloud every state of every nation on every continent.
And I remember’d besides how with sardonic foretaste He did promise that His global beginning would be rich and dripping with the magickal blood of the pure and the innocent.
And how His legions of Black Striders would murder for their sport and rape for their sex.
And how even men of famed courage would decay into a craven mediocrity of compliant dread.
And how the minds of every woman and girlchild would know only of food and forced fornication.
Moreover, I remember’d that The Master dBud be the dark and terrible god.
And that the true name of the dark and terrible god be the number of the Endmaker.
And that the number of the Endmaker was verily the Number of the Great Wild Beast.
And that the Great Beast was TO MEGA THERION – the Lord of the dance of Doom.
And that the dance of Doom must signal the absolute devastation of all and every thing that maketh the now of the human world.
With hands a-tremble I slap’d the black book shut then gazed at the red sky – t’was falling, falling, riddled with infected dust and flame.
"The death-will of dBud is god!" hiss’d the cloak’d figure as he turn’d and limp’d away t’ward the arch-gate of a crumbling keep.
…In a burning village I stood – lost – the heavy stench of death slowly suffocating me…
I found that enjoyable, though it did dfit off a little towards the end.
I think this would sound excellent. Reading it through though, I got a little stuck in places, but I could really imagine parts of it as read by Tom Baker, or someone. That would be cool.
It started out brilliantly - esp:
"Thru the infested red myst came a stooping figure cloak’d in rags, his wizen’d visage distorted by the grizzling pox. He greeted me with a snarling scoff, then handed o’er a litter of parchment wrap’d in a scuff’d black binding"
But kinda lost it in the middle there somewhere.
I just felt I was reading something, rather than experiencing anything.
"Thru the infested red myst came a stooping figure cloak’d in rags, his wizen’d visage distorted by the grizzling pox. He greeted me with a snarling scoff, then handed o’er a litter of parchment wrap’d in a scuff’d black binding"
But kinda lost it in the middle there somewhere.
I just felt I was reading something, rather than experiencing anything.
Short but sweet, as always.
Vivid imagery :)
Vivid imagery :)
Black Glove wrote:
"the Lord of the dance of Doom."
I was doing so well, so very well until I reached that point. Then it was just Michael Flately or whatever his name is, Dark Servant of Hell, Riverdancing away.
Not bad, love your style. :D
"the Lord of the dance of Doom."
I was doing so well, so very well until I reached that point. Then it was just Michael Flately or whatever his name is, Dark Servant of Hell, Riverdancing away.
Not bad, love your style. :D
It wasn't funny enough.
...but seriously, an interesting story/poem hybrid thing, very much bringing the feeling of the Dark Ages home in a warped, diseased way.
...but seriously, an interesting story/poem hybrid thing, very much bringing the feeling of the Dark Ages home in a warped, diseased way.
It’s time the get medieval with your comp.
Endmaker
IN a burning village I stood – lost – the heavy stench of death slowly suffocating me. God only knows how I came to tread there, stumbling thru those corpse-laden streets of dust and flame, but it would be the last place mine mortal eyes would ever see.
Thru the infested red myst came a stooping figure cloak’d in rags, his wizen’d visage distorted by the grizzling pox. He greeted me with a snarling scoff, then handed o’er a litter of parchment wrap’d in a scuff’d black binding. Emblazon’d on the frontpiece in peeling goldleaf was the book’s title: Di Siniistra Vul dBud Ig Prospero Lux. The partially burnt pages of vellum contain’d naught but undecipherable scrawl, yet as I held that char’d tome in mine grimy palms, nox-kist revelations rose up and crash’d toward mine dreaming-eye like a tidal wave of blood.
…I saw spires of crooked steel propel’d by wheels of eddying fire: the impaling spears and damn’d halos of Hell's vicious drone; t’was a dark advance of unstoppable putrid force – the ultimate infection.
I heard the raucous howls of the victorious, their frenzy’d delight in malicious slaughter chill’d mine wits to the very roots. Allover and thru did the thick curling smoke of human pyres dominate mine mesmeric reverie.
And then I saw Him – the reason in the resin of evil – standing bright and shining atop an obelisk of diamonding light: the Overseer of Finality, the Master of The End -
dBud.
And I remember’d how upon His head rested the bejewel’d crown of the new and predestined land.
And how His words of power and purpose echo’d thru-out that land.
And how the populace thereof adored Him and obey’d Him as servitors of the Faith.
And how the tidings of His rise to rulership had spread with great swiftness to many of the surrounding states.
And how the people thereof did tremble in fear of His eldritch arriving.
And how this enchantment of fear and trembling would (in The Master's own words):
"Secure easy victory for mine Engine of Total War! Most in our path wilt surrender and becometh our slaves! Those who resist wilt be tortured and slain by mine destroyers of beautiful power!"
Furthermore, I remember’d how a sinister and elite guild under The Master's guidance and control was formulating a fell stratagem named The DisEase, which dBud ardently believed would becloud every state of every nation on every continent.
And I remember’d besides how with sardonic foretaste He did promise that His global beginning would be rich and dripping with the magickal blood of the pure and the innocent.
And how His legions of Black Striders would murder for their sport and rape for their sex.
And how even men of famed courage would decay into a craven mediocrity of compliant dread.
And how the minds of every woman and girlchild would know only of food and forced fornication.
Moreover, I remember’d that The Master dBud be the dark and terrible god.
And that the true name of the dark and terrible god be the number of the Endmaker.
And that the number of the Endmaker was verily the Number of the Great Wild Beast.
And that the Great Beast was TO MEGA THERION – the Lord of the dance of Doom.
And that the dance of Doom must signal the absolute devastation of all and every thing that maketh the now of the human world.
With hands a-tremble I slap’d the black book shut then gazed at the red sky – t’was falling, falling, riddled with infected dust and flame.
"The death-will of dBud is god!" hiss’d the cloak’d figure as he turn’d and limp’d away t’ward the arch-gate of a crumbling keep.
…In a burning village I stood – lost – the heavy stench of death slowly suffocating me…
Endmaker
IN a burning village I stood – lost – the heavy stench of death slowly suffocating me. God only knows how I came to tread there, stumbling thru those corpse-laden streets of dust and flame, but it would be the last place mine mortal eyes would ever see.
Thru the infested red myst came a stooping figure cloak’d in rags, his wizen’d visage distorted by the grizzling pox. He greeted me with a snarling scoff, then handed o’er a litter of parchment wrap’d in a scuff’d black binding. Emblazon’d on the frontpiece in peeling goldleaf was the book’s title: Di Siniistra Vul dBud Ig Prospero Lux. The partially burnt pages of vellum contain’d naught but undecipherable scrawl, yet as I held that char’d tome in mine grimy palms, nox-kist revelations rose up and crash’d toward mine dreaming-eye like a tidal wave of blood.
…I saw spires of crooked steel propel’d by wheels of eddying fire: the impaling spears and damn’d halos of Hell's vicious drone; t’was a dark advance of unstoppable putrid force – the ultimate infection.
I heard the raucous howls of the victorious, their frenzy’d delight in malicious slaughter chill’d mine wits to the very roots. Allover and thru did the thick curling smoke of human pyres dominate mine mesmeric reverie.
And then I saw Him – the reason in the resin of evil – standing bright and shining atop an obelisk of diamonding light: the Overseer of Finality, the Master of The End -
dBud.
And I remember’d how upon His head rested the bejewel’d crown of the new and predestined land.
And how His words of power and purpose echo’d thru-out that land.
And how the populace thereof adored Him and obey’d Him as servitors of the Faith.
And how the tidings of His rise to rulership had spread with great swiftness to many of the surrounding states.
And how the people thereof did tremble in fear of His eldritch arriving.
And how this enchantment of fear and trembling would (in The Master's own words):
"Secure easy victory for mine Engine of Total War! Most in our path wilt surrender and becometh our slaves! Those who resist wilt be tortured and slain by mine destroyers of beautiful power!"
Furthermore, I remember’d how a sinister and elite guild under The Master's guidance and control was formulating a fell stratagem named The DisEase, which dBud ardently believed would becloud every state of every nation on every continent.
And I remember’d besides how with sardonic foretaste He did promise that His global beginning would be rich and dripping with the magickal blood of the pure and the innocent.
And how His legions of Black Striders would murder for their sport and rape for their sex.
And how even men of famed courage would decay into a craven mediocrity of compliant dread.
And how the minds of every woman and girlchild would know only of food and forced fornication.
Moreover, I remember’d that The Master dBud be the dark and terrible god.
And that the true name of the dark and terrible god be the number of the Endmaker.
And that the number of the Endmaker was verily the Number of the Great Wild Beast.
And that the Great Beast was TO MEGA THERION – the Lord of the dance of Doom.
And that the dance of Doom must signal the absolute devastation of all and every thing that maketh the now of the human world.
With hands a-tremble I slap’d the black book shut then gazed at the red sky – t’was falling, falling, riddled with infected dust and flame.
"The death-will of dBud is god!" hiss’d the cloak’d figure as he turn’d and limp’d away t’ward the arch-gate of a crumbling keep.
…In a burning village I stood – lost – the heavy stench of death slowly suffocating me…