TheSlimeKing

It was no secret what had become of Count Wyrzucik's beloved wife, though few of the villagers dared speak of it. They feared the Count and his obsessive devotion to his wife, for he considered any word spoken against her criminal. Still, if one listened to the hushed whispers spoken in the tavern, where ale and mead numbed the fear of the Count, one could hear of the terror that lurked beneath the Count's manor. Those who had glimpsed it spoke of a creature with chitin and fur that walked on many clawed feet. Every week, the Count would order his men to bring five villagers, each of whom he would accuse of a crime. After a brief farce of a

*Preface- This is my first Lore post, and I have no idea what I'm doing.* Miazgatzar is the name of my fictional universe. It is divided into five structures that are each ruled over by five beings known as the Arcana. These aspects are: Emptiness, which is based around concepts that are a lack of something. Examples include darkness, the cold, vacuums, the space between atoms, and silence. Emptiness is ruled over by the Arcana named Gulogni and his servents, the Yami. Substance, which is based around concepts involving things physically existing, such as light, heat, color, sound, and matter. It is ruled by the Arcana known as Valtra and h

Ash falls down from the blackened sky as people look up in wonder searching for signs of rain or thunder know not their deadly blunder until they heard the battle cry Beneath their feet, the demons stirred after centuries, awake the too the earth did quiver and shake unleashed the fires of Satan's lake along with his loathsome herd The city then was thrown to war as by hell it was attacked flesh was torn, and skulls were cracked rewards for the faith it sorely lacked and then it was no more

Legends tell of the lords of light that guard and keep us from the night that breathed the stars into the sky that watch us from the heaven's high the ones we know as dragons Keepers of the flames divine bringers of the warm sunshine who fight the dark and bitter cold so say the tales and stories old that speak of the ones called dragons They are fierce, but also kind no evil thoughts enter their minds protectors of the weak and hopeless a light of hope within the darkness the noble beasts, the dragons

A sweltering cauldron of bile and filth the bowel's exit, the sewer king's tilth where the unkempt brutes go to slander and lie where diction and reason go forth to die Woe to those who travel there lightly to walk amongst ghouls, gnarled, unsightly and if they climb out, they too will lament that wretched abyss of youtube comments

In the dark abyss it dwells bound by heavy iron chains locked away by ancient spells knowing only endless pain Once it walked the earth and sea knowing happiness and song Now it lives in misery wondering what it did wrong

A sea of chaos floods the field the air roars with tumultuous sound blades meet and clash with shield blood spills and soaks the ground as men for mercy cry out and plead but in the battle, the words are drowned and they left alone to bleed their only fate, beneath a mound

Snow gently falls upon a little town where all the the children, big or small sleep without a sound The hearths were adorned with wreaths and with stockings and cookies and popcorn awaited as offering far up in the sky there sat in a sleigh a little fat guy from a land far away his suit was bright red his beard was snow white he'd come there to spread joy and delight he climbs down each chimney with a sack full of toys to be place beneath a tree for the goods girls and boys and when he is done he takes to the air and soon he is gone and none knew he was there except for the children who wake the next day to find the gifts given for the

The drums of war are made of powder Heralding forth explosive showers brought forth by great wings of death as we hide with baited breath We live our lives between the falls ever dreading the siren's call fearing always the German blasts and that each day could be our last

It hides in closets and under beds just out of our sight only poking out its head when we turn out the light "It isn't real" the adults say yet we children all know better Though it comes out not in light of day at night it moves, unfettered It haunts our dreams while we sleep chasing us with claws or knives laughing as we scream or weep fearing for our lives It takes a form that we most fear be it ghost or clown or else as one we love so dear making us watch them burn or drown Yet it isn't without weakness even at the bleakest hour for if we do not fear the darkness then over us it has no power