THE LORDS OF THE EIGHT, OR A LITERARY CRITIQUE OF FIENDISH CODEX II

This is a collection of sensations hand selected from the vaults of the Society of Sensation. They reflect a variety of lives and experiences that will enrich any who would choose to consider them.

And without further delay:

"I know you harbor doubts, let me explain..." The artificer droned on, but Michel didn't hear him. He was listening to something just past.

You are unworthy of it.

A single fly screeching cannot be heard. But billions of billions of them, each a traitor born of the same betrayal, is a cacophony. Memories are harmless so long as the feeling of the past is barred.

-=-

The ecstasy nearly throws him off his mount. A beautifully scented twist in the spacial folds, a delicious contradiction within the orders of infinity. Why had he not felt this before? He is always smiling, but this time there is truth to it. He turned his bronze mount with a tap of his scythe. He must, after so long, speak with his sister.

The door opened, and a beautiful creature came through it. Moving like a ghost in flesh, the figure moved toward the end of the room. The tulani's hair had flattened slightly from the swampy mists. It gave his youthful face an aura of reckless sensuality, despite a weight behind his pupils' dark. He shed his black cloak with a quick motion, and swiftly took a seat, grimacing even before he sat down.

The suspected dark lord Creus was once, like all the dark lords, a resident of a different plane. Creus was a warrior-mage of considerable repute, seen as the protector of his country Avaldia. Born in a time of war, war was all Creus knew. Selected as a child for training, Creus's life was circumscribed by two types of persons--those who were enemies and those who were expendable to ensure the defeat of enemies.

And so it came to pass that the thief (for that was his profession, and he was very good at what he did) found himself sitting besides the paladin (for that was her profession, and she was just as good at it if not better) and watching the sun set fire to the ocean for the hundredth time. And for the hundredth time, the thief said to his friend, lover, and wife:

"Penny for your thoughts. But I expect change."

"Keep it. You need it to buy new jokes."

"I thought you liked my old ones."

2004 saw the first Planewalker NaNoWriMo contest! We had a blast with this contest, churning out a nice collection of of novels (3 finished before the deadline even!).

Take a peek around - this years winner was simmo, with a wonderful spinoff of Around the World in 80 days. See all of you next year, and in the meantime, enjoy reading!

A collection of poetry produced by our friendly forumites.

The Shopkeeper of the Tower Arcane smiled placidly at his balor patron."All the shadows in a single layer of the Abyss for a year? A generousoffer indeed. We can certainly make use of those, or we have businessassociates who can. However, for the same legions the baatezu haveoffered us the privilege of sharing the use of their Lake of Flame fora century. We don't yet know what we would use it for, but surely youappreciate the magnitude of this sacrifice."