The Rise of New Commorragh

CLANG

The sound of the heavy metal door echoing was a signal for nearly all the crying and weeping in the room to cease. Aratosh stood still. Above him the walls of the chamber reached up, yawning over a hundred meters high, ahead of him it stretched in the distance to where a lone figure, the crone, sat, nearly imperceptible from his vantage point.

The walls of the chasm that was the crones room were covered in boxes. One meter by one meter boxes, the face of each decorated with only a lock and the hinges of the door. Aratosh was particularly proud of these devices. Simple, yet so very, very effective. Inside each box sat one of a hundred different races, most human, true, but tau, jokaero, nicassar, and others among them as well. Each box was sealed so no light could enter and nutrients were administered through the air, the result being that each creature eternally starved, but would not die from it.

Aratosh smiled. He had long ago overcome the hunger that gripped the rest of his kind, but that still did not keep him from enjoying the sorrows of others. He started towards the crone. Though he moved with the grace of his kind, the stillness was such that his steps still echoed, the only other sounds now coming from the center of the room.

The children... Oh how he loathed the children. No matter how many months they spent in the dark, they continued to cry. But, oh, their souls were bright. A single child providing the crone what 100 grown men could, so they were tolerated... to a point.

As he reached the middle of the room, his teeth began to grind. Unable to bare the mewling of the incessant worms any longer, Aratosh walked to one of the boxes and laid his hand upon the door. The creature inside sounded as though it were an infant. It's cries ceased abruptly as the nutrients in the container were replaced with neurotoxins. Though the others kept crying, the hot anger inside of Aratosh had been extinguished. He began walking again.

As he reached the crone, he lightly sat in the chair opposite hers, the only pieces of furniture in the room. The crone was as something from a story. Old even at the time of the fall, were her claims true she was aged well into twenty thousand years, and her knowledge and wisdom correlated such. As did her hunger, needing the souls of nearly fifty thousand creatures daily to maintain her life.

The wretch was withered beyond reckoning, shrunk to half the size of any normal dark one with her years. Her eyes had been gouged out at some ancient time, the sockets dark hollows under her weathered brow. Only a few strings of hair clung feebly to her head. When she spoke, her voice was as gravel being ground under a heavy rock.

“Tell me, why does the Young Master call upon me today?”

It had long ago ceased to fascinate Aratosh that the lich somehow always knew it was him. “Tell me, again, of my father, woman.”

The Crone smiled. “The tale of Asdrubel Vect is a long one Young Master, why do you wish to hear it so often?”

Aratosh Vects brow darkened. “That is none of your concern wretch, but if you must know, it is simple. To defeat ones enemy, one must know their enemy... Now, tell me the tale... spare no details...”

The old woman continued to smile. “Of course,Young Master...”

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So, my first story on here, and the first time I've written anything in awhile. Critiques and comments are welcome, just go gentle on me eh?

Great way to set a scene and it's good to see you post something here.
The box torture devives are fascinating and rather inventive, although I thought the best bit was the description of The Crone. She almost seemed zombie-ish.

The only advace that I could give would be that in the first paragraph you repeat room alot, so maybe changing one of the uses to chamber or atrium or something similar could help.

Other than that, great work. I am intrigued now, I shall be on the lookout for more!

XD It's been awhile since i've really had to use my vocabulary. I tried to be on the lookout for repeats like that but guess I wasn't paying much attention to the first paragraph. Shall rectify at once. Thanks for the catch!

You're very welcome. It is an easy mistake to make, one that I am guilty of, too.

It's an interesting setup. The chamber focussed on the crone, and the crone focussed on - what? How does she perceive? Is she in possession of (forbidden) psychic powers? I shall look forward to finding out!

I found one tiny typo:

Quote :

Aratsoh Vects brow darkened.

but that was all

It will be interesting too to see what he has in mind for his father.

- Malys