Emelia Synphia
Member
Just a few of my short stories I used to further flesh out my D&D world, figured I'd share some.
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The Liar and The Judge
Vecna sat amongst an array of books and tomes. Most of them were open and her multiple hands flipped through them writing periodically. However, the pages of the book were black, with blood red lettering that disappeared after each word was complete. Dipping one of several quills she was writing with, into a red inkwell, she placed it back onto the dark paper and continued to write. Several hours past with this repeating over and over again, as she filled the books with infernal writing that seemed to disappear before the eyes.
The chambers Vecna resided in were scattered with books, many of similar black pages, but they all were closed. These books were bound in a dark leathery substance, and sealed each with a blood red ruby clasp that had glowing runes on them. The room itself was an empty library, shelves lined the walls but lacked the books. Stained glass windows allowed in a meager amount of light that lit the room barely enough with the help of several candelabras along the walls. A single door of thick wood led out of the chamber.
A sudden knock at the door cracks through the room, without even looking up from her work, Vecna flicks one of her jeweled hands. The door effortlessly swings open and the light from the other side floods in only to be smothered and dimmed by shadows, while a figure steps through, and with a slam the door shuts.
The figure isn’t shrouded by the darkness within, but instead seems to repel, making the figure very distinguishable amongst the darkened features of the room. It’s a tall human man, seemingly in his late thirties. His hair is a platinum blonde that is swept back, a hard jaw is accompanied by a clean-cut beard, while gold orbs or brilliance look upon the room. He wears a Generals attire, a long black war coat bedecked in medals that hangs over his shoulders, a black tunic with an exquisite design stitched into it, with a set of plain black pants and shoes complimenting it all. The inside of the jacket is a deep crimson and contrasts greatly with the near all black of the rest of the outfit, bringing it all together.
Vecna stands up, her jeweled hands set their quills down, and extends two of her arms towards the man, “Dear Heironeous, what do I owe this honor that you’d visit your sister?” Her face curls into a childish smile of innocence and jubilation. Her features are quite starkly different than the man which she calls her brother.
Standing quite a few heads shorter than Heironeous, Vecna is childlike in most essences. Her skin is a blue-grey, while her hair is messily kept and deep black that seems to absorb the darkness around her. Horns raise from her head and are adorned with gold hanging jewelry, two eyes of red malice peer in the man’s direction while a third on the forehead looks around frantically. Sharp white teeth grin sweetly from her child like face. Her six arms sit at either side, all adorned in gold and gems, with a simple red dress covering her torso and legs. A string of skulls hangs from one of her left arms and wraps around her waist, and in one of her right hands she holds a staff of black wood.
“Vecna, you knew I was on my way, don’t make me for a fool,” the deep cold voice of the man carries through the room. He steps forward and places one hand on the sword at his hip, the other on the table in front of him, “Tell me sister, why do you hide yourself in secrecy and lie with a purpose to deceive. What is so wrong, that you can’t tell your own brother the meaning behind the deceit.”
The childish grin is stolen from Vecna’s face, as her lips curl into a sneer at the mention of deceit. “Dear Heironeous, do not misjudge mistrust for deceit. You understand not the big picture of the world around us, you only speak of honor and pride. Yet, you forget that our father and the other Primordial’s bring un-wrongful judgement upon our actions, forever confining us.” Her grin returns now, but this time much more sinister and twisted, “But dear Heironeous, no longer must our ways be judged. Brother, it is them that spin the deceit, that keep you tasked with things to distract you from their games. A pawn will not disobey if they don’t know anything else, and dear brother, you are nothing but a pawn in their elaborate plots for power.”
The golden eyes of Heironeous sharpen, as he glares at Vecna with suspicion before speaking with worried conviction, “You speak words of treachery, Vecna. The Primordial’s do not task me for wrongful judgements, they speak nothing but truths.” His voice echoes through the room hollowly, doubt slowly creeping onto his face.
“A heart of gold, that much is true, Dear Heironeous,” Vecna’s face softens once more, into an innocent smile of sincerity. “I would not deceive you, brother. I would not offer up these words if I was wrong, nor would you sit here and let me utter them if that was so. Look at the actions you have committed, they have you murder for near sport, because of a supposed slight they see. You are nothing but a toy, and they will throw you to the side like all those before us. Please, hear me out, we can stop the Primordial’s and their judgments.” Her voice is fraught with fear as she finishes. “I just ask, you don’t tell anyone of this. You are my brother, and the only thing I trust.” She hangs her head down and peers at her brother with innocent eyes from under her unkempt hair.
Heironeous sighs heavily, and walks around the table, approaching his sister and extending a hand. “You speak words that I do not understand, I do not know the slights you speak of. But, I will hear you out sister. That is my ultimate purpose, judgement. Fair and unbiased.”
Vecna grabs the hand and is pulled into his embrace. “Thank you, brother, dear Heironeous, we have much to discuss. But first, let me finish my writings, and we will talk.” She pulls away, a tear streaking across her childish features, which Heironeous wipes away with his thumb. Heironeous turns and exits the room, the door slamming shut behind him with the flick of Vecna`s hand. The fearful face she had put on all but disappears, as her mouth twists into a deceitful smile. Sitting back down, her many jeweled hands pick up their quills and continue to write in their infernal language.
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The Liar and The Judge
Vecna sat amongst an array of books and tomes. Most of them were open and her multiple hands flipped through them writing periodically. However, the pages of the book were black, with blood red lettering that disappeared after each word was complete. Dipping one of several quills she was writing with, into a red inkwell, she placed it back onto the dark paper and continued to write. Several hours past with this repeating over and over again, as she filled the books with infernal writing that seemed to disappear before the eyes.
The chambers Vecna resided in were scattered with books, many of similar black pages, but they all were closed. These books were bound in a dark leathery substance, and sealed each with a blood red ruby clasp that had glowing runes on them. The room itself was an empty library, shelves lined the walls but lacked the books. Stained glass windows allowed in a meager amount of light that lit the room barely enough with the help of several candelabras along the walls. A single door of thick wood led out of the chamber.
A sudden knock at the door cracks through the room, without even looking up from her work, Vecna flicks one of her jeweled hands. The door effortlessly swings open and the light from the other side floods in only to be smothered and dimmed by shadows, while a figure steps through, and with a slam the door shuts.
The figure isn’t shrouded by the darkness within, but instead seems to repel, making the figure very distinguishable amongst the darkened features of the room. It’s a tall human man, seemingly in his late thirties. His hair is a platinum blonde that is swept back, a hard jaw is accompanied by a clean-cut beard, while gold orbs or brilliance look upon the room. He wears a Generals attire, a long black war coat bedecked in medals that hangs over his shoulders, a black tunic with an exquisite design stitched into it, with a set of plain black pants and shoes complimenting it all. The inside of the jacket is a deep crimson and contrasts greatly with the near all black of the rest of the outfit, bringing it all together.
Vecna stands up, her jeweled hands set their quills down, and extends two of her arms towards the man, “Dear Heironeous, what do I owe this honor that you’d visit your sister?” Her face curls into a childish smile of innocence and jubilation. Her features are quite starkly different than the man which she calls her brother.
Standing quite a few heads shorter than Heironeous, Vecna is childlike in most essences. Her skin is a blue-grey, while her hair is messily kept and deep black that seems to absorb the darkness around her. Horns raise from her head and are adorned with gold hanging jewelry, two eyes of red malice peer in the man’s direction while a third on the forehead looks around frantically. Sharp white teeth grin sweetly from her child like face. Her six arms sit at either side, all adorned in gold and gems, with a simple red dress covering her torso and legs. A string of skulls hangs from one of her left arms and wraps around her waist, and in one of her right hands she holds a staff of black wood.
“Vecna, you knew I was on my way, don’t make me for a fool,” the deep cold voice of the man carries through the room. He steps forward and places one hand on the sword at his hip, the other on the table in front of him, “Tell me sister, why do you hide yourself in secrecy and lie with a purpose to deceive. What is so wrong, that you can’t tell your own brother the meaning behind the deceit.”
The childish grin is stolen from Vecna’s face, as her lips curl into a sneer at the mention of deceit. “Dear Heironeous, do not misjudge mistrust for deceit. You understand not the big picture of the world around us, you only speak of honor and pride. Yet, you forget that our father and the other Primordial’s bring un-wrongful judgement upon our actions, forever confining us.” Her grin returns now, but this time much more sinister and twisted, “But dear Heironeous, no longer must our ways be judged. Brother, it is them that spin the deceit, that keep you tasked with things to distract you from their games. A pawn will not disobey if they don’t know anything else, and dear brother, you are nothing but a pawn in their elaborate plots for power.”
The golden eyes of Heironeous sharpen, as he glares at Vecna with suspicion before speaking with worried conviction, “You speak words of treachery, Vecna. The Primordial’s do not task me for wrongful judgements, they speak nothing but truths.” His voice echoes through the room hollowly, doubt slowly creeping onto his face.
“A heart of gold, that much is true, Dear Heironeous,” Vecna’s face softens once more, into an innocent smile of sincerity. “I would not deceive you, brother. I would not offer up these words if I was wrong, nor would you sit here and let me utter them if that was so. Look at the actions you have committed, they have you murder for near sport, because of a supposed slight they see. You are nothing but a toy, and they will throw you to the side like all those before us. Please, hear me out, we can stop the Primordial’s and their judgments.” Her voice is fraught with fear as she finishes. “I just ask, you don’t tell anyone of this. You are my brother, and the only thing I trust.” She hangs her head down and peers at her brother with innocent eyes from under her unkempt hair.
Heironeous sighs heavily, and walks around the table, approaching his sister and extending a hand. “You speak words that I do not understand, I do not know the slights you speak of. But, I will hear you out sister. That is my ultimate purpose, judgement. Fair and unbiased.”
Vecna grabs the hand and is pulled into his embrace. “Thank you, brother, dear Heironeous, we have much to discuss. But first, let me finish my writings, and we will talk.” She pulls away, a tear streaking across her childish features, which Heironeous wipes away with his thumb. Heironeous turns and exits the room, the door slamming shut behind him with the flick of Vecna`s hand. The fearful face she had put on all but disappears, as her mouth twists into a deceitful smile. Sitting back down, her many jeweled hands pick up their quills and continue to write in their infernal language.