February 18 2021

Horror Stories 1 – by Fetid SirDidy – narrated by Asclepius

Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with a couple of thrilling stories from Fetit SirDidy. Background music by Smartsound

“The Man in the Kobold Dwelling”

As the Avatar approached the odd looking man, the smell of animals and rot filled his nostrils.
The sun above was a fiery eye, its stare a blazing inferno causing copious beads of sweat to materialize and run down his face in a torrent. Each drip instantly engulfed by dry earth.

Thermal waves emanated from the metal buildings and fencing around him and all was still save for the melodic turning of the windmill powered generators and a crow at the far side of the compound that picked at a bloodied carcass. Even at this distance the Avatar could hear the crow feasting, it’s beak pecking and tearing at exposed innards.

Upon hearing the Avatar’s approach the odd looking man held up a hand and beckoned him forward.

Sskkk. tsssk.. hello friend..sssskkk,” the man drawled.

Bringing clenched fist to mouth, the Avatar cringed at the site of what stood before him. He now saw that the odd looking man was actually a kobold that had the likeness of a Human man draped across its face. The human visage appeared to be tied on with leather string, like a carnival mask. As the kobold began to speak, his tongue flicked wildly behind rows of jagged teeth.

“Ah, I see you like my face…tsssk”, he chortled. The kobold turned his head left and right allowing the Avatar to appreciate the entirety of his Human mask.

As the Avatar slowly began to back away, laughter pulled his gaze near where the crow ripped at tattered flesh and vein. A trio of bodies lay sprawled on the hardened earth. One of the bodies was large and the other two were small. Two kobold younglings with clawed hands embraced gleefully danced around them, and upon their faces they wore masks of their own; with the likeness of human children.

“The Battle”

The minutes blurred into hours and the hours into days as the Avatar dodged and countered. His hands weakly held onto the wand as he flicked his hand wildly like a dying composer conducting his last symphony.
Just a little longer. Hold. Hold.

The avatar was near exhaustion. His reserves nearly spent. All the experience he had accumulated over the years was called into action as he fought, drawing every hidden ounce of power and bending it to his will.

At last the Cabalist, who had towered over him and caused his near exhaustion was defeated.
Looting his foes body, the avatar stood in horror. There, on the ground, lay a single gem, a single black pearl, and a rusted fork.

The avatar was haunted by that fork for the rest of his days

Echoes From the Caverns

Echoes From the Caverns