AmbushThe figure hid in darkness, a shadow among shadows. None but its kin would have suspected its presence. The others remained similarly hidden, strategically placed throughout the length of the dead-end tunnel. The air hung thick and heavy in the rocky cavern, warmed by unseen thermal vents.Nothing stirred. All was silent.The eyes of a surface dweller would have quailed at such complete darkness. The predators eyes, however, saw every minutia in the cavern walls and calmly noted the heated breaths of its patient companions. A few tense moments passed. The monster hovered near the ceiling, staying close to the mighty stalactites. The figures heat sensitive vision picked up a flash of movement some twenty feet below. Just the glowing twist of a wiry, red orange hand. Everyone present knew the meaning of the signal.They have arrived.As if on cue, a light appeared at the entrance of the tunnel, clearly illuminating the handful of figures entering the blackn
.Al'doer ulu lil Har'oloth.Silence reigns in the World Below. It fills every crack, every corridor of unfeeling stone. No sunlight warms these endless tunnels. It is a land of twists and turns, natural traps and pitfalls, where only the foolish walk unguarded. The darkness hides its true face well, and ever present danger remains the only certainty.Only the strong survive here, in the lands below the feet of men. Only the most ruthless, the most cut throat of beings can thrive and call such desolation home. This is a land of monsters. They stalk the darkness, wicked collaborations of tooth and claw; ill-conceived nightmares spawned from the dreams of a heartless god. Others are perfection. They mask themselves in beauty, preying on those foolish enough to underestimate their delicacy.Be warned, traveler. Order is a lie here, where all is nothing but deception and chaos. This is a world of natural, intelligent evils, and they are waiting to destroy you. If you should ever escape with your life intact, you will
Prom and Pain: A SonnetMy feet are pained from work and dance alike,Though I would choose dance over that other.Every spring traveler deserves some harsh strike.Ungodly shift! No! Never another!Was it worth it for that evening of joy,Spending the next morning thigh deep in jokesSplashing from tounges of jerks who did employFoul humor in front of the elderly folks?Flailing and hurt, serving the customers,I'll refuse to show any tears or rage.I'll laugh happily, unmoved by blusters,Then clean up their messes and wash the stage.I'll keep my mood fresh, my smile will glow bright,For I was the bell of the ball last night.