User:Zamara/Sandbox

Klusarlaik

You hear the soft voice of Klusarlaik say, "That isn't going to work, you know. More will keep coming."

You hear the ghostly voice of Klusarlaik say, "You do not understand. This is immortality."

Tachid

Tachid asks, "I be Risen. Want to be too?"

On Lyras

Iszanua says, "Eyes.... don't look into eyes of devourer."

Iszanua says to Pormithius, "Is less than child. Is nothing left."

Iszanua says, "Nothing but void that longs to consume."

Iszanua says to Pormithius, "Be careful of dead eyes. Stronger than looks. Don't pity."

Iszanua says, "You know... looking over and over at the hungry one is only going to make her come for you."

Iszanua says to Binu, "Is nothing left in her eyes except the storm that devours all."--Zamara 21:20, 14 April 2009 (UTC)

Random stuff.

A soft refrain comes to your mind, a woman's voice singing, "When the day is new before you and the sun has just begun, I will take your hand and guide you into the great wide world." The tune lingers for a moment, then drifts away.

You find yourself observing a small child who is sitting alone in the middle of a desolate landscape. She can be seen playing with two dolls -- a Prydaen and a Rakash one. Holding them by their backs, she makes them walk around awkwardly, but soon indicates her displeasure with a petulant pursing of her lips. With a purposeful look and a magniloquent sweep of her arms, she smashes the dolls together forcefully, and your vision comes to an end with the explosion of lifelike flesh and blood that ensues. --Zamara 16:01, 12 April 2009 (UTC)

Eyes unnaturally clear, a Y'Shai Guardian moves with a heavy grace, shifting position and stance with subtle movements now and again. Black cambrinth armor covers him from head to toe, its seams oddly invisible, as if it was more a part of him than anything else. At his side, he carries a permanent crimson and onyx moonblade.

A bony fylgja suddenly fades away into a cloud of ghostly fog. A bony fylgja chants mockingly,

    "Woode of Night
     to Scorpion's Tail
     You are simply
     Bound to fail!"

A bony fylgja suddenly fades away into a cloud of ghostly fog. A bony fylgja chants mockingly,

    "Shivering wretch
     Phoenix flame
     Will not find
     More than shame!" --Zamara 05:11, 13 April 2009 (UTC)

Violent winds howl in your ears, not quite obscuring a multitude of distant moans and screams. Your vision slowly comes into focus, revealing three figures facing each other, weapons drawn, amidst a swirling crimson dust storm.

To your left is a young Human man, wielding a curved silver dagger and covered by a dark overcoat. To your right is an Adan'f, holding a mattock and wearing a crude hauberk. Directly across from you is an elderly Halfling woman, in a blood-stained white robe and tensely gripping an oaken cudgel.

A blast of ruddy sand momentarily obscures your vision, but not the clash of weapons. Within a second the figures have turned on each other with murderous intent. Their three-way melee continues unabated as the storm rises around them, consuming everything with its stinging grit.