Daniel Ray
The Wizard From The East
- Joined
- Dec 10, 2009
- Messages
- 661
- Reaction score
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- Points
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- Age
- 30
Re: Fable , the unofficial novel... and soon to be official!
Chapter 7, part 3
He stood beside the oak tree in a Mid-Oakvale he once knew. The village was as empty as a dead one, but no building stood in ruins…yet…it was as if everyone had disappeared only yesterday, and had left him to live in solitude. It was awkward, being in a quiet Mid-Oakvale, when in reality, the streets would be exploding with life and currency. Or was this reality? The oak tree swayed in the gentle breeze, a leaf fell of a branch to join in the wind’s parade. Slowly, and silently, more leaves fell, propelled through the air by the gaining gust. Soon, the breeze grew into something worse, as the leaves circled around Dominic. He shielded his eyes, but saw the oak tree, which was now bare to its twigs and branches, before he did. The leaves got faster, and faster, and faster, until he saw nothing around him, but green and brown blurs. His hair was caught in the wind, along with his clothes. His scabbard and sword was blown off his belt, and was engulfed in the twister of leaves. He grew short, and thin, until at last, he was his young self, as young as he was nine years ago. The green and brown became red and orange, as flames ate the leaves away. Dominic was trapped in a fiery vortex. He screamed in his highest voice.
“Help!”
Instantly, the cyclone disintegrated, but the flames lingered on. They had spread through Oakvale, burning everything in sight. The sky was dark with night, smoke and blood. The oak tree fell to its knees, crumbling to ash. The stalls broke, and the Miscellaneous Items’s glass windows burst into many sharp pieces. There were screams everywhere, bombarding his eardrums to their very last cords. He covered his ears with his hands and dropped to his knees. He shouted out, in agony.
“No!”
His eyes were blurred out, but then they sharpened, and in front of him, was a dark figure. It waved its hand, and slowed time itself, to a crawl. Falling buildings were suspended in mid-air, as the flames licked at the slowest speeds imaginable. The screaming, too, faded, sounding distant. The figure took a step forward, into the light of a burning shop. The man stood, shadowed, his face obscured by a blood-red cloak, which flapped in the boiling breeze, a breeze that fed the very flames. Two glowing, red slits were positioned where eyes should be, but nevertheless, they pierced Dominic, sending the coldest of chills down his spine, despite the surrounding heat. His darkened lips formed a wicked grin. He walked slowly, but confidently, getting closer with every step. Dominic tried to run, but was petrified in place. His legs ignored his pleas, letting the man stand over him. The man bent over Dominic, staring into Dominic’s face, filling him with a very twisted concoction of fear, of hatred, of…pain…
“I see you, Dominic…I have you within my grasp…you cannot run…you cannot hide…you cannot fight… you shall be mine…” An indescribable cackle made its way out of the man’s cloak. One that was… impossibly harsh, impossibly cold, impossibly…
“NO!”
Part 4
Dominic awoke, terrified to the sole of his feet. He got up and scanned the entire room for the cloaked man, but saw no one. It was just…a dream… He relaxed and sighed, then realised that he was sweating profusely. He wiped the sweat off his face and got out of bed. He was his full size again, and he wasn’t in Oakvale, but instead, in Bowerstone. Suited up for the day, he walked down the staircase of the Bowerstone Tavern, and into the bar, crowded with people from many origins. They all went silent, as he walked into notice, and bent their heads away, either to stare at the foam on their mugs, or to whisper something into the ears of the person sitting next to them. Dominic looked around, and noticed today’s new scroll pinned on the tavern’s door
The title of the article sickened him. He continued his way out, tearing the scroll off its pins on the way. While he walked, he crumpled the scroll into a ball of paper and used his Will to set it on fire. He tossed it aside, and by luck, it fell into a bucket of water, carried by an old woman. She shrieked and let the bucket fall from her hands, as she retreated into her house. After a while of thought, Dominic decided to return to the Guild for some reading. It would be a healthy way to take his mind off some things, an action that he dearly craved to do in the past few days. Alex, Donaven, the Bandits…Theresa… If only, he could just rid himself of his brain, then he wouldn’t have to worry, he wouldn’t feel sorrow, and he wouldn’t be twisted for revenge. If only, those bandits hadn’t even gone close to Oakvale that night, then he would have lived a normal life, dreaming of normal stuff and settling his own personal problems. He might even have had a girl by now, if the attack hadn’t happened. If only…
Stepping on the Bowerstone Cullis Gate, he felt himself rise slightly, before the sensation of a very quick wind blew at his skin and face. Bowerstone’s slums and shops zoomed out of vision, replaced by the map-table and the torches of the Guild’s corridors. He landed gently, suppressed the usual rising bile, and stepped out of the glowing blue circle. He got to the library and picked a book up from a vacant table. The cover had a drawing of a man-wolf, below the title that read, ‘Blood Fangs and Lycans: The End of Obside’s Reign’.
He sat down, and flipped the book open. He turned page after page, and stopped at the book’s very middle page:
Ever since that night, the two ‘monsters’ fought a hard war. Lycans had the speed and the strength, but they were evenly matched by the Lord Obside’s intellectual edge, and the Fangs’ magnificent skill at craftsmanship. Years and years on, which grew into bloodied centuries, they fought. After a surprise assault by the Lycans on the Fangs’ base, a tower was built right in the middle of Albion for the Fangs to keep sight of their opponents. In today’s time, this tower is located in-
The rest of the page had faded, washed away by time. Frustrated, Dominic threw the book back onto the table. It broke through the table, which fell into several wooden pieces. Dominic backed away, looked around for any witnesses, and got out of the library. Aimlessly he walked, until he found himself under the weak Sun, in the middle of the training grounds. With no humans in sight, he wandered. He looked at an archery ring, and pictured a memory. A young boy was having a hard time with his bow, as he couldn’t aim properly. Every arrow missed. Then came a girl, who took his arms and put them in better positions. She helped him pull the string back and let go, leaving the boy to shoot on his own. The arrows after that were mostly on target. He jumped in joy, and shared a hug with the girl. The memory faded.
He sighed and walked on. Soon, he found himself on the Arcanum Island. Nothing stared at him, here. Finally, peace, something he really needed. He sat, cross-legged, and relaxed. He took very deep breaths in as he took the silence in as well. He meditated for a minute or two, before the unexpected interrupted him. A drop of rainwater, landed down his cheek, making him open his eyes. Another drop went down his nose, and another on his hair.
“Oh no…”
What was three drops, evolved from simple drizzle to heavy downpour.
Just my luck.
He rolled to his feet. The rain was hard, in such a way that he could not see through it. He ran in a random direction, from smooth earth to water, his feet started to go deeper, with every step, into the water. Then, it levelled out. Suddenly, he felt a sudden blow to his head, like the rain had turned into a sledgehammer. And, as soon as it came, it went, entirely, with only small spray speckling his face. He wiped his eyes of any water, and realised that he was staring straight at a curtain of water. He had just got himself out of the rain and through waterfall behind the Arcanum Island. Now, he stood in a small cave that was no bigger than the map-room. At the back of the cave, was a large carving of a bearded face on the wall. A bearded face that, although old, seemed untouched by erosion. Still, it looked old, as in Old Kingdom old. Dominic approached it. He traced a finger over its earlobe, wondering what it was or what it meant. But then, he was startled when a rock grindings of a chuckle sounded.
“Oh...ah...ah... ha-CHOO!”
“What in Avo-”
He took a step back, glancing around for the source of the sound. He faced the waterfall to see if someone, besides himself, had entered the cave, but none stood there. Then, again, the sound of rocks being pulled against each other echoed.
“Who are you looking for, lad?”
Someone was talking behind him, sounding old and wise, but all he could see was the stone face. As he got investigated the carving closely, however, he could spot a change. The eyelids were open, revealing two circular sapphires that shined its own light...and those very gems were aimed at exactly where he was. The face’s beard shifted, as it opened its mouth.
“I believe you’ve never seen my kind before, have you?”
“N-no, sorry but-” he must be hallucinating. Talking to stone carvings? All that stress must be getting to him.
“You’re not imagining this. I am real, but of course, I must introduce myself. I am a Demon Door. We are the guardians of Albion’s greatest treasures, or most of it.”
He shook his head, not believing his own senses. But if it was reality, then so be it. Why not play along? “So you hide something?”
“Yes,” it shifted its eyebrows. Specks of dust fell off from them. “I protect one of the Guild’s most precious treasures, but if you desire it, then you shall have to convince me to let you have it.”
Hmm... That seemed fair enough, or easy enough, whichever way you saw it. What was the hardest thing a stone face can have you do? “Fine, what is it?”
“Listen to my riddle, and find its solution,” it ‘cleared’ its throat and recited a couple of sentences, in a very deep and rocky tone. “Your path is dark. Only the light will reveal a way, and you are not bright enough.”
“Wh- I didn’t catch that.”
The face repeated the riddle. Dominic went into his ‘thinking’ mode, which helped with his headaches for very strange reasons. My path is dark...maybe I have a lot of evil to fight later? Hmm... No idea... Only the light will reveal a way...not sure again... I am not bright enou-Hey! I’m not that dumb. I’m just...confused. Erma...wow, isn't it hard to think in the dark...
He held his hand out and conjured a fireball on his palm. It was small, but it was enough to illuminate the whole cave. Ah... that’s better...
“You’ve got it, young lad!”
“Wh-“
The face nodded at the flame in his hand. Dominic stared at it, as it flickered slowly and innocently.
The light! The flame was the light that revealed a way! It had nothing to do with his life path. The answer was just as simple as illuminating a dark cave. All he had to do was light the path that was right in front of him. And that ‘bright’ stuff, it wasn’t about his intelligence, at least not directly...
“Oh...”
“I’ve seen previous lads venturing out to eliminate all of their inner darkness , and come back to learn nothing from it, but you! You are bright! Oh, how long have I waited for this day- Come on, now, in you go!”
Around the bearded face, cracks appeared. It swung itself forward like a real door, revealing a tunnel that was lit with glowing mushrooms.
“Wow...”
“Hurry up, lad! I can’t keep myself ajar for too long.”
Dominic walked, slowly, into the tunnel, and heard the Demon Door close behind him. Instantly, the sounds of rushing water were cut off, along with every other sound. He walked. At the end of the tunnel, was a large cavern, which was about as big as the mess hall. A cavern it might be, but it was a beautiful cavern, nonetheless. Soft, smooth grass grew across the earth, tempting to be tread on by the barefooted. An exact half of the cavern’s floor was taken by a small pond filled with unmoving water. Small, glowing butterflies and fireflies floated over the water, their reflections making the water look like liquid gold. On the dry part of the cavern, were four tall bookshelves that were stuck to the walls, filled with books that never age. A small table was accompanied by a pair of cute, cushioned chairs. Beautiful, peaceful, and quiet. He longed for this. Finally, a place that he will grow to like. He wondered what the Demon Door meant by the ‘Guild’s greatest treasure’, but then realised something. The Guild’s most valued treasures laid in both books and silence. Knowledge , wisdom, and peace.
He took his boots off, and enjoyed the feel of the grass between his toes. He walked over to a chair and sat down, throwing his boots to a corner, and relaxed in the cavern’s extreme comfort. He snuggled himself in, and sighed in relief. It seemed like all of the world’s troubles were drowned in here. No bandits, no monsters, no pressure... Bliss...
Now, he thought, he wanted to feel the leathery cover of an untouched book. Immediately, a book, its cover a bluish-white, dislodged itself and fell from the top shelf. It landed, perfectly, on the table, and turned its pages, as if it was caught in a non-existing breeze. It stopped on a page near the end of the book. Dominic bent forwards and picked it off the table. A picture of something large and familiar was drawn onto it... something painfully familiar...
Beady eyes, large clobbering arms, and a body made of snow and ice, the Snow Troll was drawn, depicting it destroying a small hut. Dominic’s eyes flinched.
A Snow Troll, reached into the Hook Coast Tavern, trying to pull someone out... He had his sword out, hacking and slashing to no positive effect, and was thrown to the ground... Fire was everywhere, flames licked the corners of his eyes... A crowd approached, as he fell sideways, and fell unconscious...
Dominic shot his eyes open and shook his head. It’s nothing, nothing more than a memory...nothing... He let out a caught gasp, and looked back at the page with the Troll on. Below the picture, several details were written, in cursive:
Snow Troll
Average Weight: 4000 lbs
Average Height: 9 Feet and 7 Inches
Diet: Ranges between minerals found in tundra rocks and dead plants
Snow Trolls can only be found actively in the far north, such as the tundra or the Northern Wastes. They cannot last without a constant temperature below -20C∙, or they will start to die.
Very aggressive when it comes to their needs, they are also extremely territorial, killing all that comes close, including their own kind. Unlike the Southern Trolls, Snow Trolls’ bodies are made of ice, which limits their movement and strength capabilities. The average Snow Troll can toss a 200 lbs object a 100 yards, as opposed to the 500 yards of its the Southern Trolls, the Earth, Rock, and Platinum Trolls. (For more information on the extinct Platinum Trolls, look at page 552).
Dominic’s eyebrows narrowed at the last sentence. He retreated from the sinking comfort, standing up. Numbers swirled into his mind, turning into series and formulas as he calculated. Then he thought of the passage again. Four thousand pounds…able to throw a two hundred pound thing a hundred yards away…Alex could have been a hundred and ten pounds… He gasped. Alex might have been thrown a hundred and sixty yards, at the furthest. That’s still within swimming distance, and the water wasn’t rough that day…was it? His eyes widened, as he threw the book onto the chair and ran back up the tunnel, back to the Demon Door. Behind him, an unseen force picked the book up and replaced it on the shelf.
Hey, hey! I hope you guys didn't run out of patience... I've been rather busy with my trial exams. From now, hopefully, I would be able to dish out more story quickly!
Enjoy this long stretch. You guys deserve it!
Chapter 7, part 3
He stood beside the oak tree in a Mid-Oakvale he once knew. The village was as empty as a dead one, but no building stood in ruins…yet…it was as if everyone had disappeared only yesterday, and had left him to live in solitude. It was awkward, being in a quiet Mid-Oakvale, when in reality, the streets would be exploding with life and currency. Or was this reality? The oak tree swayed in the gentle breeze, a leaf fell of a branch to join in the wind’s parade. Slowly, and silently, more leaves fell, propelled through the air by the gaining gust. Soon, the breeze grew into something worse, as the leaves circled around Dominic. He shielded his eyes, but saw the oak tree, which was now bare to its twigs and branches, before he did. The leaves got faster, and faster, and faster, until he saw nothing around him, but green and brown blurs. His hair was caught in the wind, along with his clothes. His scabbard and sword was blown off his belt, and was engulfed in the twister of leaves. He grew short, and thin, until at last, he was his young self, as young as he was nine years ago. The green and brown became red and orange, as flames ate the leaves away. Dominic was trapped in a fiery vortex. He screamed in his highest voice.
“Help!”
Instantly, the cyclone disintegrated, but the flames lingered on. They had spread through Oakvale, burning everything in sight. The sky was dark with night, smoke and blood. The oak tree fell to its knees, crumbling to ash. The stalls broke, and the Miscellaneous Items’s glass windows burst into many sharp pieces. There were screams everywhere, bombarding his eardrums to their very last cords. He covered his ears with his hands and dropped to his knees. He shouted out, in agony.
“No!”
His eyes were blurred out, but then they sharpened, and in front of him, was a dark figure. It waved its hand, and slowed time itself, to a crawl. Falling buildings were suspended in mid-air, as the flames licked at the slowest speeds imaginable. The screaming, too, faded, sounding distant. The figure took a step forward, into the light of a burning shop. The man stood, shadowed, his face obscured by a blood-red cloak, which flapped in the boiling breeze, a breeze that fed the very flames. Two glowing, red slits were positioned where eyes should be, but nevertheless, they pierced Dominic, sending the coldest of chills down his spine, despite the surrounding heat. His darkened lips formed a wicked grin. He walked slowly, but confidently, getting closer with every step. Dominic tried to run, but was petrified in place. His legs ignored his pleas, letting the man stand over him. The man bent over Dominic, staring into Dominic’s face, filling him with a very twisted concoction of fear, of hatred, of…pain…
“I see you, Dominic…I have you within my grasp…you cannot run…you cannot hide…you cannot fight… you shall be mine…” An indescribable cackle made its way out of the man’s cloak. One that was… impossibly harsh, impossibly cold, impossibly…
“NO!”
Part 4
Dominic awoke, terrified to the sole of his feet. He got up and scanned the entire room for the cloaked man, but saw no one. It was just…a dream… He relaxed and sighed, then realised that he was sweating profusely. He wiped the sweat off his face and got out of bed. He was his full size again, and he wasn’t in Oakvale, but instead, in Bowerstone. Suited up for the day, he walked down the staircase of the Bowerstone Tavern, and into the bar, crowded with people from many origins. They all went silent, as he walked into notice, and bent their heads away, either to stare at the foam on their mugs, or to whisper something into the ears of the person sitting next to them. Dominic looked around, and noticed today’s new scroll pinned on the tavern’s door
SABRE THE MERCILESS
Kills knocked out man without reason
Kills knocked out man without reason
The title of the article sickened him. He continued his way out, tearing the scroll off its pins on the way. While he walked, he crumpled the scroll into a ball of paper and used his Will to set it on fire. He tossed it aside, and by luck, it fell into a bucket of water, carried by an old woman. She shrieked and let the bucket fall from her hands, as she retreated into her house. After a while of thought, Dominic decided to return to the Guild for some reading. It would be a healthy way to take his mind off some things, an action that he dearly craved to do in the past few days. Alex, Donaven, the Bandits…Theresa… If only, he could just rid himself of his brain, then he wouldn’t have to worry, he wouldn’t feel sorrow, and he wouldn’t be twisted for revenge. If only, those bandits hadn’t even gone close to Oakvale that night, then he would have lived a normal life, dreaming of normal stuff and settling his own personal problems. He might even have had a girl by now, if the attack hadn’t happened. If only…
Stepping on the Bowerstone Cullis Gate, he felt himself rise slightly, before the sensation of a very quick wind blew at his skin and face. Bowerstone’s slums and shops zoomed out of vision, replaced by the map-table and the torches of the Guild’s corridors. He landed gently, suppressed the usual rising bile, and stepped out of the glowing blue circle. He got to the library and picked a book up from a vacant table. The cover had a drawing of a man-wolf, below the title that read, ‘Blood Fangs and Lycans: The End of Obside’s Reign’.
He sat down, and flipped the book open. He turned page after page, and stopped at the book’s very middle page:
Ever since that night, the two ‘monsters’ fought a hard war. Lycans had the speed and the strength, but they were evenly matched by the Lord Obside’s intellectual edge, and the Fangs’ magnificent skill at craftsmanship. Years and years on, which grew into bloodied centuries, they fought. After a surprise assault by the Lycans on the Fangs’ base, a tower was built right in the middle of Albion for the Fangs to keep sight of their opponents. In today’s time, this tower is located in-
The rest of the page had faded, washed away by time. Frustrated, Dominic threw the book back onto the table. It broke through the table, which fell into several wooden pieces. Dominic backed away, looked around for any witnesses, and got out of the library. Aimlessly he walked, until he found himself under the weak Sun, in the middle of the training grounds. With no humans in sight, he wandered. He looked at an archery ring, and pictured a memory. A young boy was having a hard time with his bow, as he couldn’t aim properly. Every arrow missed. Then came a girl, who took his arms and put them in better positions. She helped him pull the string back and let go, leaving the boy to shoot on his own. The arrows after that were mostly on target. He jumped in joy, and shared a hug with the girl. The memory faded.
He sighed and walked on. Soon, he found himself on the Arcanum Island. Nothing stared at him, here. Finally, peace, something he really needed. He sat, cross-legged, and relaxed. He took very deep breaths in as he took the silence in as well. He meditated for a minute or two, before the unexpected interrupted him. A drop of rainwater, landed down his cheek, making him open his eyes. Another drop went down his nose, and another on his hair.
“Oh no…”
What was three drops, evolved from simple drizzle to heavy downpour.
Just my luck.
He rolled to his feet. The rain was hard, in such a way that he could not see through it. He ran in a random direction, from smooth earth to water, his feet started to go deeper, with every step, into the water. Then, it levelled out. Suddenly, he felt a sudden blow to his head, like the rain had turned into a sledgehammer. And, as soon as it came, it went, entirely, with only small spray speckling his face. He wiped his eyes of any water, and realised that he was staring straight at a curtain of water. He had just got himself out of the rain and through waterfall behind the Arcanum Island. Now, he stood in a small cave that was no bigger than the map-room. At the back of the cave, was a large carving of a bearded face on the wall. A bearded face that, although old, seemed untouched by erosion. Still, it looked old, as in Old Kingdom old. Dominic approached it. He traced a finger over its earlobe, wondering what it was or what it meant. But then, he was startled when a rock grindings of a chuckle sounded.
“Oh...ah...ah... ha-CHOO!”
“What in Avo-”
He took a step back, glancing around for the source of the sound. He faced the waterfall to see if someone, besides himself, had entered the cave, but none stood there. Then, again, the sound of rocks being pulled against each other echoed.
“Who are you looking for, lad?”
Someone was talking behind him, sounding old and wise, but all he could see was the stone face. As he got investigated the carving closely, however, he could spot a change. The eyelids were open, revealing two circular sapphires that shined its own light...and those very gems were aimed at exactly where he was. The face’s beard shifted, as it opened its mouth.
“I believe you’ve never seen my kind before, have you?”
“N-no, sorry but-” he must be hallucinating. Talking to stone carvings? All that stress must be getting to him.
“You’re not imagining this. I am real, but of course, I must introduce myself. I am a Demon Door. We are the guardians of Albion’s greatest treasures, or most of it.”
He shook his head, not believing his own senses. But if it was reality, then so be it. Why not play along? “So you hide something?”
“Yes,” it shifted its eyebrows. Specks of dust fell off from them. “I protect one of the Guild’s most precious treasures, but if you desire it, then you shall have to convince me to let you have it.”
Hmm... That seemed fair enough, or easy enough, whichever way you saw it. What was the hardest thing a stone face can have you do? “Fine, what is it?”
“Listen to my riddle, and find its solution,” it ‘cleared’ its throat and recited a couple of sentences, in a very deep and rocky tone. “Your path is dark. Only the light will reveal a way, and you are not bright enough.”
“Wh- I didn’t catch that.”
The face repeated the riddle. Dominic went into his ‘thinking’ mode, which helped with his headaches for very strange reasons. My path is dark...maybe I have a lot of evil to fight later? Hmm... No idea... Only the light will reveal a way...not sure again... I am not bright enou-Hey! I’m not that dumb. I’m just...confused. Erma...wow, isn't it hard to think in the dark...
He held his hand out and conjured a fireball on his palm. It was small, but it was enough to illuminate the whole cave. Ah... that’s better...
“You’ve got it, young lad!”
“Wh-“
The face nodded at the flame in his hand. Dominic stared at it, as it flickered slowly and innocently.
The light! The flame was the light that revealed a way! It had nothing to do with his life path. The answer was just as simple as illuminating a dark cave. All he had to do was light the path that was right in front of him. And that ‘bright’ stuff, it wasn’t about his intelligence, at least not directly...
“Oh...”
“I’ve seen previous lads venturing out to eliminate all of their inner darkness , and come back to learn nothing from it, but you! You are bright! Oh, how long have I waited for this day- Come on, now, in you go!”
Around the bearded face, cracks appeared. It swung itself forward like a real door, revealing a tunnel that was lit with glowing mushrooms.
“Wow...”
“Hurry up, lad! I can’t keep myself ajar for too long.”
Dominic walked, slowly, into the tunnel, and heard the Demon Door close behind him. Instantly, the sounds of rushing water were cut off, along with every other sound. He walked. At the end of the tunnel, was a large cavern, which was about as big as the mess hall. A cavern it might be, but it was a beautiful cavern, nonetheless. Soft, smooth grass grew across the earth, tempting to be tread on by the barefooted. An exact half of the cavern’s floor was taken by a small pond filled with unmoving water. Small, glowing butterflies and fireflies floated over the water, their reflections making the water look like liquid gold. On the dry part of the cavern, were four tall bookshelves that were stuck to the walls, filled with books that never age. A small table was accompanied by a pair of cute, cushioned chairs. Beautiful, peaceful, and quiet. He longed for this. Finally, a place that he will grow to like. He wondered what the Demon Door meant by the ‘Guild’s greatest treasure’, but then realised something. The Guild’s most valued treasures laid in both books and silence. Knowledge , wisdom, and peace.
He took his boots off, and enjoyed the feel of the grass between his toes. He walked over to a chair and sat down, throwing his boots to a corner, and relaxed in the cavern’s extreme comfort. He snuggled himself in, and sighed in relief. It seemed like all of the world’s troubles were drowned in here. No bandits, no monsters, no pressure... Bliss...
Now, he thought, he wanted to feel the leathery cover of an untouched book. Immediately, a book, its cover a bluish-white, dislodged itself and fell from the top shelf. It landed, perfectly, on the table, and turned its pages, as if it was caught in a non-existing breeze. It stopped on a page near the end of the book. Dominic bent forwards and picked it off the table. A picture of something large and familiar was drawn onto it... something painfully familiar...
Beady eyes, large clobbering arms, and a body made of snow and ice, the Snow Troll was drawn, depicting it destroying a small hut. Dominic’s eyes flinched.
A Snow Troll, reached into the Hook Coast Tavern, trying to pull someone out... He had his sword out, hacking and slashing to no positive effect, and was thrown to the ground... Fire was everywhere, flames licked the corners of his eyes... A crowd approached, as he fell sideways, and fell unconscious...
Dominic shot his eyes open and shook his head. It’s nothing, nothing more than a memory...nothing... He let out a caught gasp, and looked back at the page with the Troll on. Below the picture, several details were written, in cursive:
Snow Troll
Average Weight: 4000 lbs
Average Height: 9 Feet and 7 Inches
Diet: Ranges between minerals found in tundra rocks and dead plants
Snow Trolls can only be found actively in the far north, such as the tundra or the Northern Wastes. They cannot last without a constant temperature below -20C∙, or they will start to die.
Very aggressive when it comes to their needs, they are also extremely territorial, killing all that comes close, including their own kind. Unlike the Southern Trolls, Snow Trolls’ bodies are made of ice, which limits their movement and strength capabilities. The average Snow Troll can toss a 200 lbs object a 100 yards, as opposed to the 500 yards of its the Southern Trolls, the Earth, Rock, and Platinum Trolls. (For more information on the extinct Platinum Trolls, look at page 552).
Dominic’s eyebrows narrowed at the last sentence. He retreated from the sinking comfort, standing up. Numbers swirled into his mind, turning into series and formulas as he calculated. Then he thought of the passage again. Four thousand pounds…able to throw a two hundred pound thing a hundred yards away…Alex could have been a hundred and ten pounds… He gasped. Alex might have been thrown a hundred and sixty yards, at the furthest. That’s still within swimming distance, and the water wasn’t rough that day…was it? His eyes widened, as he threw the book onto the chair and ran back up the tunnel, back to the Demon Door. Behind him, an unseen force picked the book up and replaced it on the shelf.
Hey, hey! I hope you guys didn't run out of patience... I've been rather busy with my trial exams. From now, hopefully, I would be able to dish out more story quickly!
Enjoy this long stretch. You guys deserve it!
good work.
