Blancslieth: Prologue to The Demise of Mourndream
In the thawed tundra of Bāranok, Durven and Maffe hope for news of the brewing storm of black magic. The Mountains of Dusk to the north harbor the entrance to Jovandur, tunnels of the Witch-folk, who are planning something sinister. However, when Maffe disappears in the night, it is up to Durven to determine what the demons of Jovandur want with his friend. Can he endure the beginning of the end and return to his king unscathed?--------Sallmunik sighed again, then stepped back to peer down into Maffe's eyes. His hand came to rest upon the dwarf's shoulder. "There are limits, love, to even the mightiest of empires, but I rejoice to inform you that this day is not one that we must fear. No mortal horse can outrun Jovandur's wolves, if indeed this human has a horse." He paused, but the belittled form before him remained wordless. The crimson demon lord continued, "Nevermind; he is already dead. Now, my dear, are you ready to join our brethren within the Void? Can you sense Blancslieth's mightiness stirring beneath your feet? Are you prepared to be consumed by the beast of yore?"'Blancslieth,' Durven demanded mentally. 'What is this Blancslieth...?'"Yes."--------Cover, story, characters, and world all created by me.…