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Showing results for tags 'congress of the shadow'.
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ooc for reference check this if dont know gate to the blight https://dragonmount.com/forums/topic/23764-mainplotline-progress-story-wise-1000-ne/?tab=comments#comment-677238 ___________ Elmira looked at the note, what was the woman thinking, or her mother she guessed but she never goten used to that, in her head her fostermum was mom. It was too soon, she had been away already enough from the litle ones and now she wanted her to make another trip up to that lightforsaken gate, oh she knew the official story and all but still. Also the risks going there, she
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Smoke billowed into the sky as a wonderful smell of cooking flesh, both trolloc and hoo-mahn, permeated the air. Pink rippled across a body as a breeze blew through feathers. Once some thought the color shameful, but now all beings in the blight feared it. Dreadlords, Myrdraal, Trollocs, dark friends… they all shuddered at the mention of his name…. Nargbert. The coming of the pink feathered trolloc meant death. The Chosen…. Well, those foolish hoo-mahns rarely looked at Nargbert twice, other in disgust. However soon, Nargbert would join the ranks of the chosen. How could he not, he grea
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The rather large and extravagant home that his 'ally' was using never ceased to amaze. Every detail was exact, from the mundane to the magnificent. There were points where Asmodean felt the urge to stop and simply admire the beauty, allow it time to soak into him, to inspire him. In his mind, notes had been composing themselves on mental paper since he'd stepped into the building, loud enough to nearly overpower the more subtle music that was his own thoughts. Asmodean had always suspected that that music, that sense of harmony in his mind, was the reason why he had always been a more capa
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"Why must you lie to me? I abhor liars." The man may have been one of the Blood of Seanchan, but he screamed just like any other man would. Asmodean wasn't as talented at the stimulation of the pain centers of the brain as Semirhage was, but he was good enough for something this simple. All the man would know is that the man standing before him would reach out at touch his forehead, and there would be pain. A lot of pain. "You primitives couldn't lie to save your lives. I know that she's here somewhere, High Lord. Where is she hiding?" Asmodean had to give the man credit; he had held
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Peaten strode silently and quickly over the vast area of the Great Blight. At least, the reflection of the Great Blight in the Dreamworld. It was no where near as fast as traveling with the One Power, but it was still faster than the Ways, and much faster than riding or walking. Of the all gifts the Great Lord had given him, channeling was not one of them, so he made due. The Blight soon turned to tundra, then quickly to a sheet of pure ice and snow. He had never journeyed to this part of the world in Tel'aran'rhoid before. It was odd. Things that moved in the waking world were often blurr
