UntitledApologies for not being around as much as I once used to be, here's something as a peace offering...
I wrote this in the early months of this year, to get a friend back into roleplaying.
I have to admit that it was heavily influenced by "Unforgiven" but too much fantasy roleplaying is about running around killing dragons and not enough about... home life.
So here we are.
Very short, but something new...
The rainfall outside the village shack was reaching a torrential level though none of it was yet to seep through the ceiling, a testament to his building skills. Yet the cold of the morning had already penetrated the mediocre insulation that he had erected years ago and even now threatened to leave him with a chesty cold.
He stoked the fire some more, sending sparks hurtling up the chimney whilst wood crackled on the hearthstones. His eyes peered upwards to the mantelpiece, at the picture of his dearest departed wife; now dead for some four years. Sighing softly, he looked back into the room to where his son lay on the rug, playing with his toad - playing some imaginary game with monsters from some far off land.
Something caught his eye then. Hidden under his bed, wrapped in some bear skins, it glinted wickedly in the reflections of the fire. He shivered as something within him stirred. Something dark and malevolent uncoiled from its resting place, pausing to stretch in the warmth of the fire before turning its gaze around the room.
'How utterly pathetic you've become, Manling' it whispered to him. 'So much more fun to be had for us in the dark, in the wild, playing with knives. Why not leave the boy here and run with me into the darkness, eh?'
It was all he could to do close his mind to the beast within.