June 16 2021

The Howling Wind of Spindleskog 2 – by Akandriel – narrated by Asclepius


Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with the continuation of this fantastic story from Akandriel, entitled

The howling wind of spindleskog

Background music by Smartsound

As darkness arrived Twistar prepared his party with a final lecture and hand gestures to ensure everyone was briefed on this adventure they sought.

He led them to the darkened forest

The mighty adventurers traversed through hills and rough terrain, passing through dense shrubs on the plains.

Twistar,s keen eye found roaming creatures under the glow of moonlight.

As his party drew near they hid and numbed their fear with a puff of psilocybin smoke and a final swig of beer.

Mentored by Alphaine six plus three, he used barding skills to gather creatures near the trees.

Song and fire with shooting flames, the eight legged creature is attracted by loud taunts and screaming shouts, with stagnating movement thereabouts.

Twistar sneaked past the slow-moving bodies of creepy eyes and long legs near his side; the battle started in the dead of night.

He performed a magical ritual to surround himself in fire; a flame with intense heat capable of burning flesh if anything came close to his position, leaving bodies burned beyond recognition.

The fire illuminated the area and revealed a creature hiding near a tree; the adventurers followed Twistar’s lead.

A magical cold strike surrounded the creature in ice spikes, trapping its movement to a slow crawl, making it easier to target for a violent brawl.

A loud thundering sound emitted from a hammers ground pound; a sensation of vibrations caused blurred vision to anything around, delaying their actions in a momentary pause, giving the adventurers a few more seconds to avoid the creature’s claws.

 The magic dissipated and the creature escaped with only a few scars on its face.

The adventurers scrambled in an unorganised manner, trying to find some light that is hiding in the darkness of night.

It was a chaotic pace with weapons swinging wildly during the creature chase.

A sword swung fast and freely in mid-air, but it was unable to hit the fast moving creature as it ran in circles, the speed blurring its shadow features.

A polearm patiently waited to attack as the weapon is slow to move when trying to slice, but it missed the creature with each attempted strike.

A bow shot arrows from afar, but the arrows were unable to find the target in darkened space as the creature was camouflaged by its colour and shape.

Twistar moved fast with his skills of haste, delaying his perception of actual events; a fierce battle with rage that took place; attacking the creature with eight legs with a storm of fire and a finishing melee stab.

He paused his actions for a second to assess the battle; the cacophony’s inception rumbling crashing and çrackling noises from close proximity.

It was a tumultuous event confused by haste due to darkness and a scary place.

When his eyes blinked to focus his vision, he saw a large hammer swinging above him with rising and downward motion towards his position. He squinted in fear as a hammer strike came near but it landed near his feet where the creature was last seen; he continued to move fast to avoid another melee bash.

Twistar’s mind draws a blank as he is unable to remember the next event that led to his party’s horrific ending fate, leaving four people dead and without a trace.

The solace of the forest deepened as if the ghost of their corpses found relief, but he did not. He reeled from the loss of blood which he suffered and felt his eyelids twinkle of their own accord.

He holds the Fang still and digs it into his chest for a faster exit.

The light of the moon went out as soon as the Fang broke through the Bony cage of his ribs and touched his heart.

The afterlife wasn’t all it seemed as Twistar’s eyes fluttered open.

His burning headaches are from the nightmares which he suffered. The violent intensity of the dreams seemed to drain his own body of energy.

His heart paced when he sensed he recognised the forest space from the dream he had just awoken from.

Something about the dream dragged within him. It flutters in the region within his reach like a butterfly but these details elude his stretching grasp.

Twistar jerks from his position into a standing one. His heart sinks when he finally realises the events of the night.

He throws the fang on the ground, pinching his skin and slapping his face for effect.

He feels the sting of each action. He has to be awake.

The thoughts of the battle enter his mind and panic sets in.

There was no exit.

The entire forest space is an enclosure of dull grey matter covering every side of the mountain.

The air reaches his nostrils in jagged breaths.

“Hello” he cried out “Hello!”

The voice that returned was not an echo of his yelling; it came from a particular section of his mind.

He swallows a hard bowl of air when the realisation of what happened trickles into his memory, like a small pool of water sluicing into the corridors of his thoughts.

“Welcome to the world you have made for yourself Twistar”

The voices followed the travelling wind that came in through a crack in which the rays of moonlight flickered in.


After a moment he recognises all the voices. It’s the same voices that begged for life when Twistar attacked his party, a party of four adventurers; the eight legged creatures he saw that night. He had burned them all with his fire, and a final stab with his handheld weapon – a poisonous fang that dug deep in their chests rendering their bodies dormant and dead as the venom settled in. One by one he killed them all.

When it was all over, he stared at the bloody fang and threw it on the ground.

“What have I done?” he thought.

A voice in his head offered a solution –  run.

The details of his actions recorded in a flashback.

Twistar searched for the source of the voice.

A man of violent disposition even he was forced into cowardice by the situation.

“Now, let’s play a little game shall we?”

The voice turns sinister and the chills come back.

Twistar couldn’t plead for escape from what should be the 15th loop of the vicious circle.

He reaches instinctively for the Fang and goes about his business with fluid acuity.

For the first time in days he has all the yearnings for an escape and no willingness to run.

He’s a man insane.

From the troubles of life in a circle which he did not understand .

He didn’t flinch when the Fang dug into his flesh and tore into his chest .

He didn’t hesitate to shield his eyes when his eyelids closed.

Twistar’s eyes would open once more to the agony of an unending night.

The hallucinations continue until the bartender in the Tavern shakes his body.

“Twistar, wake up!

Your friends are ready to go on the adventure.”

Twistar the howling wind of Spindleskog!

Echoes From the Caverns

Echoes From the Caverns

June 16 2021

The Howling Wind of Spindleskog – by Akandriel – narrated by Asclepius


Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with the first chapter of a wonderful story from Akandriel, entitled

The howling wind of Spindleskog

Background music by Smartsound


The sound of the unseen entity manifested like fire and scorching judgement and punishment all in one.

It was a simple screech that broke the silence in the dark forest with a chilly gutterance.

The chill started from Twistar’s spine, searing it’s way too his arms and leaving his hands cold as soon as the piercing cry hit his ears.

Through his entire being was the agony of a painful panic gnawing into the depths of his consciousness and finding no resting place.

There was no escape from his tormenting desires, desires that had brought this on him; vengeance.

“I know you’re here!” he yelled.

The signs had been there etched in his mind from when the fang struck deep into the chests, injecting its venom into its prey, and incapacitating the victims with poison that flowed through their bodily tissue, capillaries, and veins.

The poison accelerated decay, liquefying the victims’ internals into a mush, leaving behind a burned and empty carcass husk.

All his companions lay dead

Twistar wasn’t able to prevent these traumatic events. His brain is swollen from reccurring thoughts of the disaster.

Continuous use of inhaling smoke from burning stimulants and drinking ale did little to calm his shaky nerves

The ray of light passes through a crack in the forest trees, unveiling a moon hung from the sky by an ancient orb. It’s this specific light that only reveals the entity during the night; the creature that made him angry and full of spite.

Twister’s revenge is buried deep inside, but its strength resurfaces from time to time sparking his desire to find the creature that slaughtered everyone during the fight.

The area is partially illuminated by fragmentations of light hindering Twistar’s sight, but he sees a peculiar shadow that isn’t completely concealed by the darkness of night; it may reveal the creature nearby

He navigates through cobwebs, twigs, and leaves using his stealthy expertise, sneaking closer to the shadow’s form, preparing himself to unleash his raging storm.

Twistar feels an odd sensation when he arrives at the battleground, feeling the essence of the horror; not forgetting just how he felt when the creature handed its strike without making a sound nor revealing any identifiable presence at night.

He remembers the silence, then the attack that surprised them when the creature displayed its form, a faint shadow exposing a familiar size, and a blurring screech that echoed off the mountainside.

“Please make it stop!” Twistar pleaded.

Twistar’ s head points down as he cries when recalling images from that night. His eyes watering and his mouth fills with saliva while the liquid in his throat dries. He shivers in his own perspiration, and his subtle vibrations shake the stains of sweat off his skin.

“I know you’re here!” he yelled.

Echoes From the Caverns

Echoes From the Caverns

June 16 2021

The One-eared Rabbit of Breamar – by Womby – narrated by Asclepius


Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with a wonderful story from Womby, entitled

The One-eared Rabbit of Braemar

Background music by Smartsound


When night falls and the busy town folk retreat to the tavern to relax and socialise, conversation often turns to the strange and inexplicable. Stories of lost kingdoms hold perpetual fascination, while tales of mysterious crypts and the walking dead cast a pall of fear over those who hear them. All this is nothing, however, compared to the sudden hush that comes over the assembled crowd whenever someone mentions an encounter with the sacred One Eared Rabbit.

“Did he empty your purse?” they ask, in hushed tones. “Yes” comes the inevitable reply. “I barely glanced at him and when I got home, sure enough, all my gold coins were missing.” “His secret hoard must be somewhere near there!” someone exclaims.

“How long has this been going on?” asks a stranger. “Since before The Fall,” comes a chorus of replies. “The amount of gold that rabbit has collected must be enough to fill a huge cavern.” “Why has no one found it?” asks the stranger. “Oh, we can’t do that” replies a wizened old man. “The rabbit is sacred. To disturb its lair would be sacrilege. We try our best to leave it in peace. In fact, we’ve made a map of the locations of all the known sightings, so that strangers such as yourself can avoid the area.”

“Of course,” replies the stranger. “I wouldn’t want to disturb the sacred rabbit. May I have a copy of the map?”

“Certainly,” replies the old man. “I can sell you one for 100 gold pieces.”

“Done,” replies the stranger.

Yes, thinks the old man. You certainly have been.

Echoes From the Caverns

Echoes From the Caverns

June 16 2021

The Strange Case of Thaddeus Mange – by Womby – narrated by Asclepius


Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with a wonderful story from Womby, entitled

The Strange Case of Thaddeus Mange

Background music by Smartsound


It was around a year ago that Thaddeus Mange, long term resident of Kingsport, disappeared with nary a trace. Nobody thought too much of it at the time. What with the rise of bandits, the newly encroaching undead, and the loss of shipping contact with Novia, residents of Kingsport had other things on their minds.

What did attract their attention, however, was the gradual disappearance of his house. Piece by piece, item by item, parts of his dwelling have been mysteriously disappearing. Naturally thieves were blamed, and the local guard Douglas kept watch. To his disbelief and horror, items appeared to walk off and vanish before his very eyes, resulting in him locking himself securely in the watchtower at night.

Soon these strange disappearances became public knowledge, and as is often the case when the ignorant are confronted with the inexplicable, his neighbor formed a cult. Naturally, this cult interpreted the disappearances as a message, although the exact nature of the message was the cause of much argument within the cult. A split formed between those who believed that the disappearance foretold a final cataclysmic end to the world (the Enders), and those who interpreted the disappearance as a sign that all Avatars would one day suddenly vanish (the Avatarians).

Disagreement between these two factions has recently turned violent, with both sides fighting for possession of the site.

Meanwhile, Thaddeus Mange has almost completed the transfer of his house from the Hidden Vale to Novia by row boat, and hopes to move the last few items any day now. He uses an invisibility spell and works at night so as to avoid having to talk with his neighbors, whom he cannot stand.

Echoes From the Caverns

Echoes From the Caverns