Wednesday, October 5, 2011

The Darkwell

The full moon burned in the waters within the ancient grove giving it a haunting, pale illumination. Surrounding the grove are trees frozen in time, old as creation. Tangles, briars, and thorns blanket the ground such that no animal would risk trespassing for fear of injury. Until this moment none had entered the forgotten Moonwell grove for centuries.

Bare feet created short snapping sounds as thorns were broken and briars snapped. Illmater, the crying god, began to leave steadily darkening bloody prints as he approached the Moonwell. Lured to the well, the naked and broken god walked with steady serenity, drinking in the history and power of this ageless place. As Illmater reached the edge of the waters, the full moon above fell briefly behind a cloud casting the grove into an unnatural darkness. The once pale radiance yielded to a penetrating gloom that seemed to come from within the pool. Deep within the clouded waters the Talisman sent its ka into the avatar, flooding it with terrible evil and corruption.

Above as the moon reappeared Illmater was assaulted physically, beaten mentally, and tortured spiritually with dark and sinister weapons that mortally wounded the god spilling his blood into the pool: anarchy, suffering, murder, suffering, greed… Illmater’s dyeing thoughts were to repay humanity for all the suffering he himself endured- so that agony would not overwhelm the innocent so they could die with dignity.

Time passes as the god’s lifeless mortal avatar lay in the ancient grove; its upper half submerged and its lower half draped over the edge of the Darkwell. Blood and darkness stained the still waters and when the full moon revisits the grove, life surges into the creature, evil and animalistic. The beast drank from the Darkwell allowing the Talisman to mount the werewolf, for that is what it was now. Dead was the crying god and in its place was the instrument the Talisman will wield its malevolent influence… for now.

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