Archive for the ‘The Epic Legend of Damien Fell’ Category





Now, I’m sure that most of you probably guessed this by now. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if all of you knew. But I have had people ask if I actually wrote tELoDF, or if it was written by some other, mysterious author.

Well, in fact, I wrote it. Me. For my own amusement, and (I suppose) for the amusement of others. Maybe. If you like fantasy novellas of such consummate badness that they made me throw up a little when I was writing them.

(I’m not kidding. There were times that I vurped* a little.)

Want to know the weird thing about tELoDF, though? When I wrote the worst fantasy story I could think of, it came out a lot like the terrible sword-and-sorcery stories that I wrote when I was in eleventh or twelfth grade. The huge, dark, silent assassin protagonist, the demon-infested multiverse, the focus on strange and exotic magics, the fight-scenes, the obsession with boobs and tits… it’s all there. Granted, I exaggerated some of the badness for comic effect. But not by much.

Maybe someday I’ll post some of the terrible bullshit that came out of my mind in the early years. In fact, there’s a story fragment that I wrote a long time ago that has a character who’s basically a proto-Damien Fell.

I think I’ll show that to you guys soon. Yes. I will debase myself for your amusement.

That’s really the story of Axolotl Ceviche, isn’t it?

~ Ian

* It’s a combination of vomit and burp. And yes, it is a real word.




“He’s driving me completely crazy,” Amber said. “He’s everywhere. I mean, everywhere. I can’t even go to the bathroom in peace. Somehow he seems to be always following me. Even to my house. How can he be in so many places at once?”

“Still not sure about that,” I replied. “Personally, I suspect witchcraft.”

“Hes always sending me love notes and things. Like, really crappy poetry. And he always wears that gas mask around. What’s the deal with that? I mean, it’s not like his face is that ugly!”

“He has a face? Wow… I’d assumed the existence of one, but there was no evidence to prove or disprove my theory.”

“Yeah, the teachers make him take it off in class,” said Amber. “But everywhere else, he always has it on.”

I was curious about this. The opportunity to probe into Gas Mask Lad’s life with someone who was in the same position I was in… I have to admit, it was tempting. So I seized the yoke of my opportunity (mixing a few metaphors in the process).

“Has he ever mentioned mind-controlling gas, or possibly toxic spores?” I asked.

“What? Why?”

“Because I want to know if your young Mr. Felman wears that mask because he thinks it’s some kind of cool and edgy fashion statement, or whether he’s just batshit fucking loco.”

“I don’t know…” Amber said. “I think a little bit of both.”

“Well, you’d have to be a little bit crazy to think that that thing’s appropriate headgear anywhere outside a trench in Flanders about 1917.”

She glared at me. “Can we get back on the subject that we were originally talking about?” she snapped. “‘Cause, I’d really like to get my life back.”

“Have you actually talked to him? Maybe he’d understand.”

“Tried. Didn’t work.”

“Threats of physical violence?”

“I tried to get my boyfriend Travis to beat him up. He just stared at Travis, and Travis got freaked and ran away.”

“Do you suspect that David Felman has latent psychic abilities, then?”

She looked puzzled. “Huh?”

“Sorry. Off topic again. So, you’ve tried hiding from him, reasoning with him, and threatening him. Have you tried humiliating him?”

“Will that work?” she exclaimed.

I smiled. “Well, judging from what I’ve heard of his interactions with you, and his own writing, David Felman has insecurity as big as the planet Neptune. He thinks he’s worse than anyone else, and this knowledge has pretty much driven him crazy. So I’m thinking that the way to finally cause him to break down is to exploit those insecurities. I’m thinking of some sort of cunning trap. Possibly a dinner date… Do you own a low-cut halter top?”

“You’re crazy!” Amber said. “I’m not going on a date with that little freak!”

“My dear girl,” I said, stroking my beard in what I assumed was a most dastardly fashion, “you only have to go on one. And I’ll be standing by the whole time. Ready to spring. Believe me, nobody knows more about humiliation than I do.”


“How do you think I got my freshman-year roommate to drop out of college?”

Amber Marconi picked at her turkey sandwich for a few seconds. “So you can really do this?” she asked. “Will it cost me anything?”

“Nothing whatsoever. I want to see that little shit put in his place just as much as you do.”

She thought this over. “All right. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

A plan was already forming in my head, a masterful plan that would end with my adversary’s complete and utter annihilation. The pieces were all falling into place. I could practically taste revenge, and it was so sweet…

“Let’s get started,” I said.


Creative Writing Wednesday resumes business as usual next week. Same bat-time, same bat-channel.


The Epic Legend of Damien Fell

Chapter 12: Epilogue of Shadow

Damien Fell was ready to take on the final battle. ANd he knew it was the final battle. He knew it in the core of his being, knowing it knowingly like nothing he’d ever known before. It was time for the end to begin.

It was time for the showdown.

“cOmE aNd ClAiM hEr, DaMiEn FeLl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” screached the twisted, malformed entity that was Lord Hateshadowe’s malformed and twisted soul. “CoMe AnD cLaIm YoUr LoVeR, bEfOrE i FeAsT oN HeR sOuL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“I will destroy you, you know,” Damien Fell grunted, flapping his wings and hovering in the suspended sea of not-air that made up the world of Chaos. “I’ll rip your spine out and snap it in half before I let you kill my Ambaryssa.”

“aH, sO yOu SaY!!!!!!!” shouted Lord Hatesdhaow. “bUt I aM sTrOnGeR tHaN yOu In ThE eNd!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Just watch me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Damien Fell exploded.

And with that, he beat his mighty wings, bird feathers and bat leather cacthing on the immiterial substance of Chaos as he flew forward, drawing his two pistols. With a noise like bottled thunder, the pistols exploded in his hands, shattering into a million peaces. The pieces then turned into tiny, delicate green beetles and flew away.

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1” cried Damien Fell. “Those were the only pistols in all of Evershyria!!!!!!!! I made them with my own hands!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

He raised his arms and shouted “KCOHSREDNUHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Inteding to send a mightly gout of lightening at Lord Hateshadowe. But instead of delivering the correct amount of electricity, two multicolored snakes shot out of his arms, and stuck their tongues out at him before melting into sunlight-colored snow.

“How is this possible!!!!!!!” roared Damien Fell. “I can’t believe this!!!! It must be………. that on the Plane of Chaos magic doesn’t function properly!!!!!!!!!!”

“YoU hAvE jUsT fIgUrEd ThAt OuT, dAmIeN fElL????????????????????????” the soul of Lord Hateshadowe grated. “yOu MuSt Be StUpIdEr ThAn I tHoUgHt!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Then I’ll have to kill you the old-fashioned way!!!!!!!!” Damien Fell raged, and he drew Stormshadow, swinging it about his head like a deadly whirlwind of sharp steel.

“CoMe AnD tRy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

After that, Damien Fell wasn’t sure what had happened.

Time seemed to shift and change, melting about him like so much string cheese.

And it seemed to Damien Fell that he WAS Lord Hateshadowe, just as he was Ambaryssa, and he was everything else in the world, an all-consuming darkness that lurked at the hearts of stars.

He was nothing.

He was everything.

He was a god, creating multiverses out of pure fermament.

He was a jeelyfish floating on the ocean tide.

He was a warrior.

He was a mayden.

He was suddenly every soul that had ever lived.

An eternity of souls, stretching for millions of years into the past, and the future (for what is the future, if not an alternate past?).

And he seemed to lose himself on the shifting sands of everything that made up all worlds, passing through trillions of years in a single heartbead, falling through eternity so softly that you could hear a pencil drop, screaming his mind out with madness and pain and anarchy……………………………………………………………

And then, after all that, he rememebered who he was.

He was the Warrior of Darkness.

He was Damien Fell.

With a single mighty swing of his sword, Damien Fell attacked Lord Hateshadowe, cutting the ten-eyed three-mouthed head from its shoulders……………………………..

The realm of Chaos disipated around him.

Suddenly there was nothing left but the cave walls and giant statues.

The Womb of Shadow and Light.

He was home. And Ambaryssa was in his arms.

She stirred delicately. “Damien?” she said. “Where was I………………….”

Damien Fell kissed her on the lips. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Your safe now.”

Slowly, tenderly, the Warrior of Darkness began to make love to the Mayden of Lyghte.

The world stood still.


A week later, when they’d finally finished their lovemaking, the two of them stood overlooking the lake of lava outside the Womb of Shadow and Light, holding hands.

“Are you sure that you have to go, my love?” asked Ambaryssa.

“I must,” he said, kissing her on the top of the head. “I made a promise, remember, to Jorquim, King of the Griffons. And I fulfill my promise. I am an honorable man, above all else.”

“But for a year and a day………………………..” said Ambaryssa. “What will I do until then?”

“You can go to Karass Mor,” said Damien Fell. “I’m sure your father misses you greatly.

“My father…………………………………….” Ambarssa said. “I barely remember him. It was so long ago.”

Damien Fell smiled. “I’d like to meet him,” said Damien Fell. “And when I return, we can get married. And go to that little house by the mountain lake where the Keeper of Darkness said we would live.”

“That would be lovely,” said Ambaryssa. “I want to be at your side forever.”

“Me too,” said Damien Fell. He kissed her, one last time.

“I must go now,” Damien fell said. “Jorquim awaits me.” And he spread his angel-demon wings wide, and took to the sky.

My boyfriend is the coolest guy ever, Ambaryssa thought.

She watched and waited until he was nothing more than a tiny black dot against the blue sky, and then until he’d finally disappeared. Then she turned to go. It was a long way to Karass Mor, and she had to tell them the tale. Of how Travyss died. Of how the world was saved.

And deep within her belly, Ambaryssa could feel new life stirring……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

THE END??????????????????????????

I woke up this morning and felt suddenly, completely sane.

It was a refreshing feeling, let me tell you. I felt as if the massive weight that was holding me down for the last few months, the rambling insanity with only brief moments of lucid clarity, had suddenly lifted. The sky was gray and cloudy outside– which wasn’t surprising: this is Northern California, after all. But that’s the way I like it. I like dim, diffuse light. I’m naturally attracted to the darkness.

I went downstairs, had some toast, watched a couple episodes of Angel. School hasn’t started for me yet, and the rest of the family is off working or going to school, so I was alone.

Time passed. The sky began to clear, and cracks of blue began to show through the gray-white of the cloudy sky.

“I think I’ll go for a walk,” I said to myself.

I headed downtown, passing through residential neighborhoods with narrow one-way streets, the sidewalks shaded by spreading old trees. I passed my old high school, all a-bustle with teenagers. It was lunchtime, and since Santa Cruz High has an open-campus lunch policy, the streets were crowded with Damn Teens™ heading down to lunch. Thinking I might join them, I turned into Erik’s Deli Café, the traditional haunt of high schoolers out for lunch. I went there nearly every week, when I was in high school. The food wasn’t that good, frankly, but I still wanted to sit at the table, and eat a cheap sandwich and drink a root beer, and remember.

“Excuse me?” someone asked. “Are you Ian Johnson?”

I turned to see a teenage girl. Probably a freshman or sophomore: she had that coltish, awkward frame that’s common among young teenage girls, the kind that isn’t done growing into womanhood yet. Even so, she was pretty. Not glamour model, TV-series pretty, but pretty in an ordinary look-at-her-while-bored-in-algebra-class way. She had long, straight strawberry blonde hair, and teal green bands on her braces. (What is it about braces that makes it the mark of adolescence? You never see adults wearing braces, even when they could clearly need it. It’s as much of a signifier of teenagerhood as zits and angry childish tantrums.)

“Yeah,” I said, a little confused. “Why? Do I know you?”

“In a way,” she said, smiling. “My name’s Amber Marconi. I’m here to talk to you about David Felman.”

“David who?”

She sighed, in the kind of exasperated way that only a fifteen-year-old girl can pull off.

You know,” she said. “David Felman. Author of The Epic Legend of Damien Fell.

Suddenly I understood. This girl– Amber Marconi, whoever she was– was the girl that the boy in the gas mask was infatuated with. She was the inspiration for Amberella/Amberlae/Ambaryssa/whatever the princess in the Legend was called nowadays. Somehow I could tell that she was being driven just as crazy by the boy in the gas mask– David Felman, I guess his name was, in the real world. And she needed a way out.

“Let’s talk,” I said.

~ Ian


The Epic Legend of Damien Fell

Chapter 11: The Womb of Shadow and Light

Crandling the still-warm unconcious body of Ambaryssa in his firm, muscular arms, Damien Fell entered the Womb of Shadow and Light with tears of blood running down from his soulless all-black eyes.

“COME OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!” he shouted. “THE MAYDEN OF LYGHTE NEEDS HEALING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

As Damien Fells’ eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see farther into the Womb of Shadow and Light. It was a cavern with a cieling easily a thousand feet above the ground, with the far wall easily two thousand feet away. Stalactices like huge snaggly teeth dropped down from the roof of the cave, each one two hundred feet in length, the size of a mighty tree. And far off, on the far wall, eluminated by the light of glowing blue-white lanterns, were two huge statues, silent and beautiful, each one’s head nearly touching the ceiling of the cave. The one on the left was carved of soft golden porous stone, and depicted a beautiful woman with long flowing hair swirling around her face dressed in a beautiful dress, her arms outstretched, flowers in her hair, her feet bare. On the right was a statue carved out of black obsidian, showing a man, but no ordinary man: he was a huge and powerful warrior with a thick beard and armor, wearing a huge broadsword on his back, and with a glare in his eyes that smoldered and burned like a fiery brassiere. Damien Fell recongized them: his previous incarnation and that person’s lover, the former Warrior of Darkmess and Mayden of Lyghte.

From beneath the pedestals of the two statues, two doors opened, and two people came out and came up to Damien Fell. The first one was a dark aelf, who wore swirling black robes and carried a staff of black obsidian, set with a huge ruby the size of Damien Fell’s massive fist. The other one was a matronly human woman with a crown of leaves, wearing robes as soft and white as snow. The dark aelf wore an expression of surpassing grimness, as if he had the world’s largest kidney stone trying to work its way out of his anus. The human woman had a gentle, kind expression, like she was about to take you and bake you into a cookie.

They both bowed when they reached Damien Fell.

“Hail, Warrior of Darkness,” said the Dark Aelf.

“Hail, Mayden of Lygthe,” said the Human Woman.

“Who are you?” cried Damien Fell. “What are you doing in the Womb of Shadow and Light?”

“We are known as the Keepers of Darkness and Lyghte”, said the Dark Aelf. He had a deep booming voice as resonant as the mountains. “We guard the Womb of Shadow and Light from outsiders. As you can see, we do a good job of it. This place as not been disturbed for a hundred thousand years.”

“You’re a hundred thousand years old?” shouted Damien Fell.

“We have always been here,” said the Keeper of Lyghte, the human woman. “We change and configure differently depending on how the Age of the World, but we have always existed.”

“I don’t care about that!!!!!!!!!” Damien Fell said. “Ambaryssa is weakened! She needs healing!”

The Keeper of Darkness nodded gravely. “Of course. If things are to go as planned tonight, we must heal her. Unfortunately the power to heal is not part of the aegis of Darkness. Keeper of Lyghte————— could you manage to do this? I must speak with the Warrior of Darkness.”

“Of course,” said the Keeper of Lyghte. She took Ambaryssa as gently and lightly as a feather, then went throught the door on the other side of the room, which closed behind her as she left.

“This place is very strange to me” Damien Fell said. “And yet it naturally feels like home, somehow.”

“It is home, for you,” said the Keeper of Darkness. “You must understand that the Womb of Shadow and Light is the center of the universe. If Heaven and Hell are the two pieces of bread that make up the sandwich that is the universe, and Evershyria is the meat, then the Womb of Shadow and Light is the mustard. It is what gives the flavor to the whole thing. It permeates the rest of the parts, soaking into the bread and meat. It is the mustard at the middle of everything.

“You use strange metapohrs, Keeper,” Damien Fell said.

“That is true. Yet they are not metaphors. They are the truth.”

“Are you saying to me that Evershyria is a sandwich?” Laughed Damien.

“Can you prove to me that it isn’t?” said the Keeper. Damien Fell looked at his face. It was perfectly serious, with not a hint of mirth. Damien didn’t even know that the Keeper of Shadow was even capable of mirth.

“You seem to be very wise,” said Damien Fell.

“People have said that to me,” the keeper respodned.

“Then tell me, Keeper——– do you know how the universe will end, one day?”

“Manythings are shrouded in mystery, to those who cannot see the future,” said the dark aelf, his stern face stern and faceless. “However, I can see the future. And so nothing is shrouded to me.”

“So tell me,” said Da,ien Fell. What does the future hold?”

“Many things, many things………..” said the Keeper of Darkness. “But it is almost over. The universe is coming to an end, and soon everything will perish……………………………………”

“Tell me. What is my future? What will happen to me and Ambaryssa????”

The dark aelf close dhis eyes, looking into the uncertain future, far away into the darkness. “I can see you and Ambaryssa being happy,” said the Keeper of Darkness and Light. “I see much joy for the both of you………… a little house, by the side of a lake………………… a daughter, who will have hair as red as blood and eyes as blue as the sky, who will equal her mother in beauty, if not surpassing her. She will grow to the age of sixteen at home with you, and you will be happy. At peace.”

“And then……………………………………………….” The Keeper of Darkness paused. “Things will grow dark. There will be chaos flung upon you. I see a day where your blood and Ambaryssa’s will fall onto fresh-fallen snow, and you will die. But with your dying words, your daughter will leave home, seeking her destiny. And thus your daugther will set out on a Quest to find out who she truly is, and when she finds it, she will discover how she will end the world. And then……………………………..” the keeper paused, “……………………………………………………she will bring Evershyria to its end.”

“What happens after that?”

“I cannot say,” said the Keeper of Darkness. “It is as if the future is obscured by crabs. There is nothing but a swirling vortex of nothing. Since the world will end, though, there will be nothing left from the old world————— excpet your daughter, of course, and us. The Keepers of Darkness and Light.”

“This is most troubling”, Damien Fell said.

“This is true,” said the Keeper of Darkness. “But you knew that one day you will die, did you knot?”

“I knew I was one day to die,” said Damien Fell ponderously. “But I HAVE died. Several times, actually. And I always came back.”

“There will come a time when you cannot come back,” said the Keeper of Darkn ess. “But do not fear it. Death comes to all, whether we like it or not.”

“I guess your right………………..” Damien fell murmured.

The Keeper of Light came out of the door at the bottom of her stature. She walked over to Damien Fell and the Keeper of Darness.

“The Mayden of Lyghte is in the healing chamber,” said the Keeper of Lyghte. “She will make a full recovery. That must have been quite some strenouous that you put her through, to make her tired out like that.”

“She’s had a rough past couple of days,” said Damien Fell regretfully. “She was kidnapped by Lord Hateshadowe, taken to the Fiendfang, where he tired to sacrifice her to whatever dark gods he serves. Then I rescued her and took her to Shadouwegaard, where she was nearly raped by an incubus and we fell in love. Finally, last night we fled from a mysterious dark person on the backs of the King of the Griffons, and now we are here, where we must make love for the first time. It’s trying for anyone.”

“You say that this woman only recently had any indication that she is the Mayden of Lyghte?”

“Very recently. Only a few days ago.”

“Hmmmmm………..” the kEeper of Lyghte said. “She must be very powerful. I remember, five universes ago, a Mayden of Lyghte that was kept in a monastery for her whole life, and trained for the exact porpuse of becoming the Mayden of Lyghte. And yet judging from what I read of her mind, Pricness Ambaryssa has surpassed that by an astonishing amount. She is more powerful than nearly anything Ive ever seen.”

“Not true,” said the Keeper of Darkness. “Do you remember that Mayden of Lyghte three thousand, two hundred and seventy-two universes ago? The barbarian girl with the necklace of teeth? She was incredible.”

“Ah, yes<“ the Keeper of Lyghte said. “And the girl five billion, seven hundred and seventeen million, six hundred thousand and twenty-eight universes ago? The green-skinned space captain, who had the fastest spaceship in the galazy?”

“You speak of strange things that I know not what you’re tolking about,” said Damien Fell.

The woman smiled. “For give me, Warrior of Darkness. I forget that you have only the experience of one lifetime, and one universe. I apologize. I understand this must be very confusing for you.”

“That is true,” said Damien Fell. “Buy the way, I’m quite hungry and tired from my jounrey.”

“We have forgotten our hospitailty!!!!!!!” exclaimed the Keeper of Lyghte. “Warrior of Darkness, come. You must eat. You need your stamina for the night to come.”


Darkness fell over the land of Evershyria once more, cloaking the world in its inky-black darkness.

Everyone in the whole world at the moment the sun set over Evershyria paused, slowly and quietly, for there was a sudden moment of great silence. Something that was both holy, and unholy at the same time, sacred to both Good and Evil. Something that would bring an eternal change to Evershyria, that would somehow altar the fabric of the world permanently, something that would make the land tremble and shake to its very goundations.

The Mayden of Lyghte and the Warrior of Darkness were about to make love for the first time.

In the cavern of the Womb of Shadow and Light, Damien Fell wacthed as Ambaryssa came out of the door underneath the statue. She was clad in a soft, sheer white robe that clung to her skin in all the right places, emphasizing her curves and nooks. She was absolutely beautiful, more beautiful that he’d ever seen her before. She’d been bathed and washed, so her skin was perfectly clean to the point of glowing, soft and golden-pink and perfectly unblemished. She smelled faintly of roses, and fresh fruit, and fine wine, and soap: an intoxicating armoa that made Damien Fell wild with desire. And strangely, it was a natural smell, not like the heavy perfume that women would wear in Karass Mor and the rest of the soft human Kingdoms. Was this her natural smell? Was this what Ambaryssa smelled like all the time? If so, Damien Fell found himself even more attracted to her. Her hair shone golden-red, falling arftully over her delicately pointed half-aelfynn ears. She was utterly gorgeous. She was everything he’d ever dreamed of.

She was his.

As Ambaryssa approached Damien Fell, she smiled shyly. Damien Fell smiled back.

“I have loved many women,” said Damien Fell in awe, “but I have never seen a woman as beautiful as you.”

Ambaryssa smiled, yet there was a kind of nervousness in her smile.

“What’s wrong??” asked Damien Fell.

“I’m frightnend,” whispred Princess Ambaryssa. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve never made love before. I remain a virgin.”

“You don;t need to be scared,” said Damien Fell. “I’ll guide you through it.”

Ambaryssa looked up at Damien Fell, and her huge blue eyes were filled with tears. “What if I don’t compare?” she asked. “You have lived for five centuries, my love, and yo’ve loved so many women. Beautiful women, talented women. What if…………. what if when we make love, you will no longer love me? Because of my inexperience? What if I don’t stack up?”

Oh, Ambaryssa,” whispered Fell. “You will always stack up. I could never not love you.”


And they came together for a kiss.

Their lips touched, and Damien Fell could feel a thrill running through him like nothing he’d ever felt before. He realized that in all his years of existance, from his childhood in the deeps of Hell to his long experience wandering the earth for centyries, that this was all he’d ever wanted. All he’d ever longed for. All he’d ever desired was here in this girl. All he’d ever wanted was to have someone to love him as much as he’d hated himself. All he’d wanted was the perfect woman. And now, he’d found her…………………………………………………………………………………….

There was a sound of slow, dramatic clapping. Damien Fell broke away from the kiss, and turned to face a man who’d entered the Womb of Shadow and Light. A man with short-cut blonde hair, a man who was handsome in a clean-cut kind of way.

A man who had holes where his eyes should be.

I applaud you, Damien Fell, said the man as he applauded Damien Fell. You lead me a merry chase. But now I have returned………………. to claim what is MINE.

“Travyss?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?” ejaculated Ambaryssa. “What are you DOING hear?”

“You know this man????” asked Damioen Fell.

“Of course I know him” cried Ambaryssa. “H’es my fiancee!!!!!!”

“Your fiancee?” cexclaimed Damien Fell.

:He’s the Son of the Kingdom of Rayvenhawke,” said Ambaryssa. “He and I have been betrothed for three years. Travyss……………… what are you doing here? ANd what’s wrong with your voice?

Your father sent me to reclaim what is mine, said Travyss Hawke. He promised me his kingdom.

“That can’t be!” shouted Ambaryssa. “Karass Mor and Rayvenhawke have been rivals for centuries!!”

And yet I will unite them, said Travyss. With our marriage, the kindgoms will be united. I believe I shall call our united country…………… Karassrayvenhawkemor. Does that have a good ring to it? Travyss, king of Karassrayvenhawkemor?

He stretched out his hand, and beckoned Ambaryssa. Now come, my love. I have come to rescue you from your kidnapper. 

“Damien is not my kidnapper!!!!!!!!!!!” cried Ambaryssa. “He’s my lover, and I’m going to have his baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Travyss Hawke laughed. Oh, Ambaryssa……………… how could you be so deluded?????? You must come back now, to those who truly love you. Back to your father. Back to me. And he reached out a hand to grab the princess.

“NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” shouted Ambaryssa, and with her magic, she created a bright white tendril of Lyghte that shone silver in the darkness of the Womb of Shadow and Light. The tendril lashed out, like a whip, and stung Travyss on the cheak. A bright red streak of blood appeared on his face.

Travyss glowered gloweringly. I don’t want to have to use force, Ambaryssa……………. he said, and then smiled. Oh, who am I kidding? I LOVE to use force!

He drew his long ancestral sword Rayventallon from its holster on his back. Damien Fell responsed by drawing his pistol and firing six shots straight at Travyss. He moved his sword ina strange arcing whirlwing of steel, and blocked every shot as it flew at him. Shards of lead flew everywhere, the shrapnel from Damien Fell’s attack.

“Looks like I’ll have to do this the old fashioned way” quipped Damien Fell. And he pulled Stormshadow from its sheath, and swung it in a figure eight.

“Ambaryssa!” shouted Damien Fell. “You stay behind me! You’re unarmed. Attack with your magic if i’m in trouble!A”

“Okay!!!!!” replied Ambaryssa.

So the bitch has magic??????????? Travyss Hawke said. Well then………………………………………………….. And he lifted his free arm, and shouted REKCUFEKRAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Immedietly a bolt of Shadouwe burst out of the hand of Travyss and struck Ambaryssa in the heart. She collapsed, not dead, but simply unconcious.

“You!!!!!! You’re the magic user that attacked us two chapters ago!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” damien Fell said.

I know, said Travyss. Looks like the bitch isn’t the only dog who’s learned a new trick!!!!!!!!!

“That doesn’t matter,” said Damien Fell. “I’ll still kill you just as dead as anyone whose ever died!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

They fell to fighting. Damien Fell didn’t know if Travyss Hawke was a magically enhanced swordfighter, or whether he was simply an expert swordfighter on his own. But he was incredible. EVery move that Damien Fell made, he blocked. Every time Damien Fell tried to press the advantage, his pressure was avoided. Every time Damien Fell sidestepped Travyss Hawke’s defenses and lashed out with a cut that would have decapitated an ordinary man, he seemed to disappear, like smoke, dodging and ducking so that Damien Fell went just inches wide of him, bearly missing.

He was incredible. But Damieb Fell was better.

In fact Damien Fell was the best that ever was.

The legends spoke of Damien Fell. About how he had faced off against an army of a million angels with his companion Jaskarenya the Raven-Haired, and slew the Archangel Ravany’eron with a single blow of his sword. About how he’d been attacked by a hundred thugs in an alleyway while he was drunk, having lost a woman he’d thought he’d loved to an adulterer, and he’d killed them with his bare hands and then pissed on their corpses when he’d finished. About how he’d fought a duel with Altarillo of Maltesa, Evershyria’s best duelist when he’d been a teenager, young and fresh out of hell, and killed the man with his own sword. About how he’d killed giants and ogres and dragons and demons and creatures made out of evershifting mist and giant magically-animated robots and pookas and kitsune and mermaids and orcs and horses and golems and huge mutated rabbits and men, armies of men, more men than could be counted on the fingers of a million men.

For there are a thousand and one stories about Damien Fell, the most unspeakably radical and badass warrior to ever walk the earth in the Age of Blood in Evershyria.

And all of them are true.

With a sudden warcry, Damien Fell launched into a spin attack, throwing Travyss Haewk of his guard, startling him enough to open up a hole in his defenses. Damien Fell took advantage of that whole, and pulled out of his spin attack, feinted left, struck right……………………………………………..

………………………………………………………….and impaled Travyss Hawke through the heart.

Gurk, said Travyss, and died.

Damien Fell unsheathed his sword from Travyss Hawke’s heart and ran to Ambaryssa. “Princess!” he cried. “My love!!!! Can you hear me!!!!!!!”

“She won’t awaken,” said a familiar voice from behind damien Fell.

He turned, startled. “Lord Hateshadowe!!!!!!!!!!!!” he exclaimed.

The blacknailed albino death aelf smiled evilly. “Who else were you expecting?” said Lord Hateshadowe.

“Anyone else!!!!!!” Damien Fell cried. “I killed you!!!!!!”

“And you did a very good job,” said Lord Hateshadowe condesendingly. “But unfortunately, I have to go. I’m taking the Mayden of Lyghte.” He flew straight towards Damien Fell, and passed right through him. “That Travyss Hawke was a useful tool, but he was ultimately just that. A tool.” He picked up Ambaryssa, and waved his arms. A portal appeared out of nothing, swirling and dark. “Do you dare face me in………………………………………………….. THE REALMS OF CHAOS???????????????????????


Damien Fell followed.


The realm of Chaos– the realm that existed outside reality, the realm beyond Evershyria, beyond Heaven and Hell, beyond everything in the universe that made any sense whatsoever, was a strange place even to Damien Fell’s experienced eyes.

It shifted and changed as he watched. It was a realm of roiling color, wild bursts of rainbow insanity, with its colors bursting and mutating and popping as Damien Fell struggled to stay upright. Huge bubbles of bubbling solidity floated everywhere, shining in dark and strange colors: burnt orange and rust and azure and gold, pine green and indigo and teal. The place hurt Damien Fell’s eyes to look at. And far away, in the wall of rippling color that marked the edge of Damien Fell’s vision, were tiny pinholes that he knew to somehow be the size of continents, through which crawled tentacled worms millions of miles long……………………………

It was a realm of madness.

It was chaos.

Damien Fell cast his eyes around, looking for Hateshadowe. Finally he saw him, and realized that Hateshadowe’s dark spirit had been mutated by this insane place, becoming strange and twisted, a weird and uncanny beast that had been changed irevocabbly. Hateshadowe’s spirit had ten eyes, from his albino forehead down to his upper lip, and three mouths. The eyes constantly streamed tears of burning acid that burnt into Hateshadowe’s face, leaving streaks of burning red. One of Hateshadowe’s mouths, the left one was muttering and mumbling the ramblings of a lunatic; the right one was constantly screaming. The middle mouth was silent. Hateshadowe’s arms had been transformed too: he held Ambaryssa’s quivering form in arms like segmented crabclaws, and he had twelve more pairs of arms, which were like tentacles. In contrast to his twenty-six arms, Hateshadowe had no legs. Instead he had a snake’s tail that constantly lashed and rithed. Hateshaowe’s long white hair flowed, as if it was in a wind, but there was no wind. He was also a hundred feet tall, and held Ambaryssa as if she were nothing more than a tiny beautiful doll.

“cOmE fIgHt Me, DaMiEn FeLl!!!!!!!!” exclaimed Lord Hateshadowe. “ClAiM yOuR lOvEr, Or I wIlL uSe HeR tO eNd ThE cYcLe Of DeAtH aNd ReBiRtH tHaT dEfInEs ThE wOrLd!!!!!!!”

“I’d love nothing more, Hateshadowe,” spat Damien Fell. And with those words, he sprouted wings.

They were strange wings, halfway between a bird’s and a bat’s. They were feathered and leathery. They were long and barbed, bueatiful and ugly at the same time. They were the wings of a man who was half-angel, half-demon. They were like no other wings ever.

They were Damien Fell’s wings.

“Let’s do this,” said Damien Fell.


Help me.

~ Ian


The Epic Legend of Damien Fell

Chapter 10: Shadow Falls


We have served our purpose, said Jorquim, majestic King of the Griffons, greatest of all the beasts of the air.

“I thank you both,” said Damien Fell.

You will thank us when you journey to Ma’a’ka’la’uun, and act as my servent, replied Jorquim haughtily. You owe us a debt, Warrior of Darkness, and if you do not repay us, we will travel to wherever you are and disembowell you, no matter where you are, no matter how you try to hide. 

“I will not try to hide,” Damien said. “I will serve you for a year and a day, and I will do so whith honor.”

Swear it, Jorquim commanded.

Damien fell raised his right hand and, drawing his great broadsword Stormshadow, cut a gash in his hand. Dark black blood flowed from his open palm.

“I so swear,” Damien Fell said.

Good said Jorquim in his booming deep voice, then we are appeased. I will see you again, Damien Fell, when you come to Ma’a’ka’la’uun to serve me in my war against the other mosters. And with that, Jorquim and his two mates spread their wings wide and took off into the brooding bloodred sky.

“Farewell, most nomble of beasts,” Damien Fell said, raising his hand in salute to the griffons.

“They’re such beautiful creatures,” princess Ambaryssa murmered.

“That’s the truth,” exclaimed Shaira, “but where is the Womb of Shadow and Light? I had thought that it was a cave deep into the ground.”

“It is,” said Damien Fell. “In fact, it’s right over—–” and he gestured to the waterfall of lava———- “there!!!!

And with his gesture, the waterfall parted, spreading wide like the legs of a gorgeous dark-aelfynn prostitute, only huge and made of burning liquid rock.

“Beautiful” whispered Ambaryssa.

“ANd how are we supposed to get across the lake of fire to get to the Womb of Shadow and Light?” Asked Shaira. “The lake is easily a mile wide. How are we supposed to cross it? I’m good at jumping, but not THAT good.”

“Simple,” said Damien Fell. “Ambaryssa. You know what to do.”

“I do,” said Ambaryssa, and lifting her head, she began to sing.


The darkness is dark and the night be cold

And I’m borken and tired and feel so old

But I will not stray from shadow and pass into endless night

I’ll walk the path of goodness, I’ll take the road of Lyghte.


And Damien Fell lifted his voice to answer her:


The light it is blinding and the sun shines so hot

And I never want to try and be the thing I’m not

I’ll take to the shadows where everything is best

I forsake all sunlight and go into the Darkness.


Finally, the two lovers, Mayden of Lyghte and Warrior of Darkness, lifted their perfect golden voices to the dark read heavens, singing a duet.


And we will walk to gether, the sun and the moon

We will walk across the world, across the darkened room

We will create a Fusion, we will concieve a world

We sing the endless saga, the tale of man and girl.


They came to the final couplet, and their voices rang out over the lava:


We will not let Evershyria vanish into endless night

We will come here together, to the Womb of Shadow and Light.


As they sang the final couplet of the song, it seemed to Shaira that tendrils of silvery white light and inky black darkness came and rose up, like tentacles on a cosmic octopus. The tendrils danced and spun and spiraled and rithed, in time to the music of Ambaryssa’s and Damien’s song, and joining together, they seemed to wind themselves into a braid, a braid made of mingled Darkness and Lyghte. The braid laid itself down at their feet, and it was suddenly a bridge: a bridge that was maid of what looked like glowing marble: white marble, with streaks of black. Or was it black marble, with streask of white? Shaira couldn’t tell, and didn’t think there was any point in trying to figure it out, for the substance of the bridge shifted and changed. It was the mingling of Lyghte and Shadouwe. A fusion of Good and Evil. It was a bridge made from the contrary opposites of Heaven, Hell, and Mortality. It was, in essence a bridge that was Evershyria, and Evershyria was in it. This was the point of no return. They were going into the Womb of Shadow and Light, and there was no turning back.

Shaira swallowed nervously.

Let’s go.” Damien Fell said decisively.

They set foot on the brigde, and as they did, it seemed as if the entire earth shook, like a giant at the moment of orgasm.

“LOOK OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” shouted Damien Fell……………………………………………………………………………………..

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….but as he did, a giant head broke the surface of the water…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

It was huge. It was serpentine It was scaled with obsidian glowing redhot with head, and had massive giant sharp pointed fangs the size of small trees. The eyes were easily the size of the common room of your average-sized disreputable tavern, and they burned with golden-red fire. The head had massive horns as tall as towers, and nostrils like vast gaping holes that steamed and smoked and gave forth noxius yellow gas. And it rose into the air, higher and higher, on a giant serpentine neck, until its shoulders breached the water and it unfurled its massive batlike wings, wings that were the size of a city………………………………………………………………

The Dragon of Shadow and Light had come to defend its territory.

“ςηατ τηε φθψκ αρε υοθ δοινγ ηερε” it said. “βαψλ οφφ, ν00βλαρ, ορ ι ςιλλ βε φορψεδ το ποπ α ψαπ ιν υοθρ πθνκ-ασσ ασσ”

“It speaks the ancient and nobel tounge of the Dragons!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” exclaimed Ambaryssa. “I speak Draconian, my love! It was one of the skills taugth to me as a Princess of Karass Mor!”

“Speak to it!” cried Damien Fell. “Tell it that we mean no harm!”

Ambaryssa nodded, and spreading her arms wide, addressed the mighty dragon. “οη γρεατ ονε, ςε αρε ηθμβλε τραωελερσ ςηο ςιση το εντερ τηε ςομβ οφ σηαδος ανδ λιγητ. μιγητ ςε βε περμιττεδ το εντερ, μιγητ δραγον”

“νο”, the dragon replied. “πισσ οφφ. ονλυ τηε ςαρριορ οφ δαρκνεσσ ασ τηε μαυδεν οφ λυγητε σηαλλ βε περμιττεδ το ενδερ τηε ςομβ.”

“βθτ ςε αρε τηε ςαρριορ οφ δαρκνεσσ ανδ τηε μαυδεν οφ λυγητ!” exlcaimed Ambaryssa.

“οη ρεαλλυ? ςηο’σ τηε βιντ ιν βλαψκ?”

“τηισ ισ σηαιρα, οθρ μοστ νοβλε ανδ τρθστεδ ψομπανιον.”

“σηε ψαν’τ εντερ. ι’μ γοινγ το ηαωε το κιλλ υοθ αλλ.”

And with that, the Dragon of Shadow and Light attacked.

“Prepare for battle!” Yepled Damien Fell. With that cry, he drew his sword Stormshadow, which glowed with darkness, as inky black and shadowy as the inside of a hole. Ambaryssa spoke a word of power and lept into the air, silvery-blue angel wings forming on her back from nothing as she spoke another word and shot a beam of pure golden energy at him. Damien Fell jumped higher than Shaira had ever seen anyone jump, springing through the air as tendrils fo darkness formed around himself, like lashing tentacels of dark power. He swung Sotrmshadow through the air, and it left a trail of darkness behind it as it cut through the air, humming with arkane power, slicing into the Dragon of SHadow and Light’s neck, leaving a gash ten feet deep. The dragon screamed in pain, and then Ambaryssa shot a second beam of power like a flaming laser directly into the dragon’s eyes.

Shaira couldn’t believe her eyes. The Mayden of Lyghte and the Warrior of Darkness, fighting side by side together, a melding of Lyghte and Dakrness like nothing the world had ever seen. It was incredible. It was magical. It was glorios and terrible and a million other things that she didn’t even have words for.

The dragon screamed and beat its wings, taking to the air. It breathed a stream of superheated flame at Ambaryssa, but she crossed her arms, creating a sheild of force that kept the flame from hitting her.

“HEY!!!!!!!” Shouted Damien fell. “DON’T HURT MY GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

He swung Stormshadow above his head like a helicopter rotor and used it to hover in the air. Then, swinging his legs back around his back, he pulled the two pistols that he’d crafted ages ago, the only guns in all of Evershyria, with his feet, and blasted shot after shot at the dragon using his feet. The blasts stung the dragon’s eyes, and temproarily blinded him. Swinging out with a giant claw, the dragon struck at Damien Fell, and knocked him down towards the burning hot lava.

“Damien!!!!!!!” ejaculated SHaira. “I’m coming for you.” WIth that she sprung off the rock spire, down towards the lava in one giant, perfectly executed leap, right towards Damien Fell. Whirling her chain around her in a perfect figure eight, she whipped it out and caught Damien as he fell, swinging him back up towards her. After that, she adjusted her flight path in midair, so that she landed on a chunk of black obsidian floating in the lava, a floating island in the middle of a lake of fire.

“Thanks for that,” Damien Fell said.

“It’s no trouble,” replied Shaira. “Now go! I’ll hold off the Dragon, you go with Ambaryssa into the Womb of Shadow and Light!”

“Are you sure???” cried Damien Fell.

“Of course!!!” cried Shaira. “Go!”

Damien Fell nodded and leapt to the bridge over the lake. “Ambaryssa!” he screeched. “To the Womb!”

Ambaryssa nodded, blasting the dragon with a final beam of blue energy, and began to fly to the parted waterfall of lava that concealed the Womb of Shadow and Light. Damien Fell followed her, on the bridge.

Shaira smiled, pulling her liquidly-flowing aelfynn-forged chain close to her, whipping it and preparing to attack the dragon. “Well,” she said to the chain, “this is it. The last stand.” And she leapt into the air, uttering the ancient battle-cry of the Shadow Syndicate:

FOR THE MONEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Ambaryssa came down from the air, landing on the brigde next to Damien Fell at the entrance to the Womb of Shadow and Light.

“Damien…………………………………” she moaned, “I feel………… weak……………………………………………………………” And with that, she colappsed to the ground, her angel wings disolving into sparkling flecks of Lyghte.

“Ambaryssa! My love, can you hear me??????”

Damien Fell knelt down next to Ambaryssa, kissing her on the forehead. “Well be there soon,” he said. And with that, he picked her up, entering into the Womb of Shadow and Light…………………………………………………………………………………….


The battle between Shaira and the Dragon of Shadow and Light raged outside, with no clear victor between either side. Just when it seemed like the dragon would kill Shaira with his flaming breath, she would blink out of existance and reappear in a different place, there to strike. And Shaira couldn’t hurt the dragon very well. She didn’t have Damien Fell’s strength; couldn’t strike through the dragon’s glowing red-hot obsidian scales.

Then she remembered the secret that her mentor had told her all those years ago, about how to kill a dragon. She remembered, all of a sudden, what he had said when he trained her in the arts of Shadouwe Magycke, how to disappear without being seen, how to kill without a sound, how to do all the Forbyddyn Artes that the members of the Shadouwe Syndicate knew how to do.

If you want to kill a dragon, he had said, there’s no opening in the scales. You can’t kill it by beating away at the outside. You can try. of course, but you’ll always fail. No, Shaira, to kill a dragon, you have to destroy it from the inside out.

Of course, thought ShAira. Master, you are so wise. May your spirit ever lie in rest.

Steeling herself, Shaira dived towards the gaping, canyon-sized maw of the Dragon of Shadow and Light. It opened wide to recieve her. She flew into the mouth, past the forest of sintillating diamond teeth, past the huge lashing purple tounge, until she landed on the dragon’s uvula: a huge thing thirty feet in length, razor-edged and pulsating.

“Master, I thank you,” said Shaira. “This is for Damien Fell and Ambaryssa!!!!!!”

She opened her mouth wide, and screamed, “EKIRTSEWUODAHS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A knifelike blast of shadow burst upwards from Shaira’s outstretched arms, blasting through the roof of the dragon’s mouth, through the nose and the cavernus sinuses, and directly into the dragon’s brain. Shaira’s world shook, like it was undergoing an earthquake, or really it was going through every earthquake imaginable, in the history of Evershyria, and all the lands that had come before.

The dragon screamed, and fell from the air, landing in the lake of lava with a sound like a turkey falling into a vat of burning oil.

Then there was silence.

For a moment, if anyone had been watching, they would have thought that Shaira was dead. This wouldn’t be a surprise, ofcourse, since she fell from a great height.

But then, there was a renching, squooshing sound, coming from the dragon’s lava-red eyeball. And then, bursting out of it in a blast of orange vitrious humor, was Shaira, covered in filk and sweat, panting with the exirtion of her task.

“I………. I did it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” she cried. “I killed him!!!!!!!! I’m a dragonslayer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

There was a sudden pain in Shaira’s chest, and the happiness died on her lips. She gasped in pain, looking down to her formerly-fine bosom.

There was the point of a sword, sticking out from between her breasts.

The sword was removed with a wrenching sound, and Shaira colappsed, dead.

Congratulations,” said Travyss Hawke, smiling and wiping human blood from the ancient blade Rayventallon. “Does that make me…………………….. A DRAGONSLAYERSLAYER???????????????????????????


Where Alph, the sacred river ran, the time has come, the walrus said. The road goes ever on and on, and where is the horse and the rider? My name is Ozymandias, my angry lesbian breasts, and whiffling through the tulgey wood the rabbits quite forgot themselves and frozen there, like saplings stood. I ate the plums in the icebox, so shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? I’m a man of wealth and taste, I’m a Monday-morning lunatic, and I’m out there on the road always doing what I’m told. Can you help me? Midway through our life’s journey, I took the road less traveled in the forests of the night. Say what you mean, bear witness to the sunshine that I got in a bag. Summoned quite late to the tiniest court, my little horse must think it queer that my mistress’s eyes are nothing like the sun. He was a good king! When that April with its sweet showers hath pierced the drought of March, we are not unreasonable– we will not eat your eyes. They say that you could hear her wailing clear to Botany Bay. From Hell’s dark heart I stab at the horror, the horror. There is no pain, you are receding to the music that we choose. On the day the saucers came, I will not say the day is done, nor bid the stars farewell. That is not dead which can eternal lie, and after strange aeons who mourns for Adonais in the tilted alley where I cried my mother’s name? It came upon a midnight clear, from its house at great R’lyeh. Bye, baby bunting, I’ve got to go– got to leave it all behind and face the conscience of the king. Half a league, half a league, half a league onward, abandon hope, ye who enter here. We’ll meet again, some sunny day, where late the sweet bird sings. For that is the road to fair Elf-land, where angels fear to dine at the Ritz. You have been eaten by a grue, you hide your beauty from the sun. The revolution will not be televised. Television dreams of tomorrow never knows. The cake is a lie. Good times never seemed so good.

I have heard the mermaids singing.

No one flies around the sun.

Exit, pursued by a bear.

~ Ian


The Epic Legend of Damien Fell

Chapter 9: A Storm of Shadow

Damien fell woke up in the darkness. The sky was lightning in the east, fading from inky-deep blackness to a deep rich indigo blue. Far away, off in the distance, he could hear the sound of wings……… relentless, pounding wings, wings that were heading in his direction, wings that were searching for blood………………

He bolted to attentiuon. “Get up!!!!” he shouted. ‘We have to go NOW!!!!!”

Princess Amberlae stirred sligthly, in a postcoital fashion. “Damien? My love, what is it?” she murmured.

“Quick!” erupted Fell. “I can hear them: bloodravens! They are seaking us!”

Shaira sat up. “Of course! Bloodravens, summoned from the deep skies of Hell. I should have thought of this!!!”

“WHat are bloodravens?” Asked Amberlae, her perfect brow furrowing prettily.

“They are a kind of demonic birds, summoned often by sorcerors who use them as spies and trackers. We must ride now, or else they’ll see us!”

“Too late!” burst Shaira, pointing up into the sky. “They see us!! They’re coming!!!!”

Muttering a sharp curse in the tongue of the Demons, Damien Fell drew the massive aelfynn longbow Forestsong to its full draw if three hundred pounds, nocking an arrow to the string. At that moment, the sun rose over the landscape, and Damien’s sharp half-demonic, half-angelic eyes picked out three tiny specks far off on the northern horizon. Muttering to himself darkly, Damien Fell fired the arrow and it went arcing across the moors. One thousand, two thousand, three thousand feet it flew, over a full mile of open Northern planes, and lost none of its momentum. Five seconds after Damien Fell let go of the string, shooting the arrow out through the sky, it struck the lead bloodraven in the wing. The raven gave a sudden caw of pain and anger, beginning to fall to the ground. Dam,ien Fell placed another arrow on the bowstring, drawing it back and letting fly. This one hit a second raven straight through the heart. It began to fall, keening widly.

But it was too late. The other bloodraven was already begnning to turn back, alerting whoever had summoned them to their presence on the open plains. Damien shot a final arrow after it, but it was out of range. There was nothing left to do. The bloodraven had vanished, disappearing into the open sky.

“In the name of the Nine Archdukes of Hell!!!!” cursed Damien Fell. “We must hurry, Shaira. Amberlae and I have to get to the Womb of SHadow and Light, or else our mission shall be all in vain!!!!!!!”

Sharia nodded grimly. “Aye. Let’s go.” And with that, Shaira prepared to mount her horse.

But Damien Fell shook his head. “No,” he said. “That won’t be nearly fast enough. I have a much better option. One that will carry use with ease to the Womb of Shadow and Light.”

And with those cryptic words, Damien fell spread his hands wide, gazing up to the sky. He closed his perfectly dark eyes, and cast his gaze up to the heavens, parting his lips and uttering a Wyrde of Powyre……………………………………………………………

“ELGAENOYL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” shouted Damien Fell.

The sound of the Wyrde of Powyre shattered the early morling science, and a sound like the voice of thunder echoed across the open plains of the Northlandsl. It echoed across forests and deserts, across jungles and seas. It traveled across four continents and two oceans, until it reached a cave on the far side of the world, in a long-forgotten mountain range on the continent of Ma’a’ka’la’uun………………….

In that cave, something stirred. There was a sound like the cry of an eagle, mixed with the roar of a loin. And from the far off cave four continents away, flying faster than the wind, speeding across the ocean with the noise of a sonic boom, were three beasts. They had the heads of majestic, beautiful eagles, and the hind parts of golden, tawny lions. One of them, the one flying at the head of the three, had head feathers of a beautiful golden-red hue. The others had simple gray-brown head feathers, but although they weren’t as majestic as the headfeathers of the leader, they were still pretty majestic.

From the continent of Ma’a’ka’la’uun, Jorquim, King of the Griffons, with his two mates, was flying to help Damien Fell.

They flew over half the earth at an unimaginable speed. They passed over Kar’ae’thaluun, greatest and most beautiful city of the Dark Aelves, and the place where Damien Fell’s adventures had began, so many days ago. From the palace of Karass Mor, where King Estuvi sat weeping on his platnium throne, pining the loss of his daughter, he looked up and saw the griffons flying overhead, screaming across the sky leaving trails of flames in their wake. At the ruined collapsed rocky tumble of the Fiendfang, the few remaining cultists and devotees of Lord Hateshadowe gazed up in wonder, beholding true beauty as it flew across the sky, glorious and intimidating in its majesty. Over Shadouwegaard they flew, and the dwarves who kept watch over the gates into the city stared upward as they rocketed across the sky.

And a thousand miles from Shadouwegaard, in the middle of the Northern Moors, they passed over Travyss Hawke, where a bloodraven whispered the location of Damien Fell in his ear.

Damien Fell has summoned aide,” he murmured softly.

Then we shall summon our own, said the voice in Travyss Hawke’s head, which called itself Lord Hateshadowe, and we will destroy him with much pain.

Yes………….” smiled Travyss Hawke, and an evil smile spoke in his head, whispering the word of power that was already forcing its way to his lips…………………..

ANERACAM!!!!!!!!!@” cried Travyss Hawke, and the earth split open, reveiling a massive giant bat that spread its wings and flew into the sky.

Come, my minion!!!!” ejactulated Travyss Hawke, and leaped onto the back of the bat. It spread its leathery wings like great sails, and beating it twice, flew off into the sky, uttering a high-pitched cryt hat shook the very earth itself………………….


As Amberlae and SHaira watched in wild wonder, their eyes gazing upwards into the heavens where the griffons came from, Damien Fell smiled, and held up his hand, signalling to the King of the Griffons where to land. They came to the ground as fast as lightening, like the sudden rush of a storm.

Jorquim, King of the Griffons, landed at Damien Fells’ feet, and his two mates followed, flanking him.

I have heard your call, Damien Fell, said Jorquim. Your name is legend even among our kind, where we dwell on the long-lost continent of Ma’a’ka’la’uun. For what purpose have you summoned us? To whence shall we bear you?

“My companions and I must get to the Womb of Shadow and Light,” said Damien Fell darkly. “We cannot ride fast enough to get there. I fear that some powerful entity is after us. Bring us to the Womb of SHadow and Light, for if you don’t, terrible things will happen. It will mean the death of the cosmos.”

Proud Jorquim tossed his aqualine head nobly, thinking for a moment. After a while, though, he nodded. I will do this thing for you, Damien Fell, said Jorquim. But I demand a boon for my service.

Damien Fell nodded. “I am a man of honor, Jorquim.” He said. “Tell me what you desire, and I will grant it.”

Jorquim spoke again, and he said, I desire your service. When this is all over, when you have come to the Womb of Shadow and Light, you must come to Ma’a’ka’la’uun, where you shall be my servant for a year and a day. You will be my trusted knight, a warrior who will defend me from my enemies: the wyverns, and the manticores, and the giant ants, and the wasp riders. For, as you know, Ma’a’ka’la’uun is a continent of monsters, and life there is nasty and short. A legendary hero from a far corner of Evershyria will be a true asset to us in our war with the other monsters. 

:I will do this,” said Damien Fell. “I will go with you to Ma’a’ka’la’uun, and I will be your servant for a year and a day.”

Then it is done, said Jorquin.

As he spoke, there was a sound like the roll of thunder across the whole of the Northlands, and the sky suddenly went pitch black: not the black of night, no: for the night still has light, the light of moon and stars, and this darkness was the darkness that comes from absolutely no light at all. The world had fallen under Shadouwe. The sky and earth were filled with the keening whale of a thousand million tortured screaming souls. It was almost as if Hell itself had come to Evershyria, and covered the world with chaos.

“Hurry! We don’t have much time to get to the Womb of Shadow and Light!” shouted Damien Fell. And he leapt onto the back of Jorquim. Amberlae jumped onto the back of Qa’oshaabaan, his first mate, and Sharia took the back of his second mate, Skug.

The griffons beat their mighty wings in time, and they took off into the heavens, streaking across the frozen earth of the Northlands like meteors. The Griffons are creatures of the sun goddess Ashaetathalaa, and they glowed with their own holy golden light, even in the shadowy night of Shadouwe that covered the world. But they couldn’t fight the darkness forever. Tendrils and tenticles of darkness snapped and whipped around them, and the huge masses of pure unadulterated Shadouwe that boiled all around them grew bigger and boilier. From the darkness came a flock of what first looked like ravens: but no, they couldn’t be ravens, for they had wings that were leathery and thin like bats. However, they couldn’t be bats, either, because they had huge beaks filled with razor-sharp fangs, and they were also six feet in wingspan. Damien Fell unsheathed his massive broadsword Stormshadow, and waved it at the perilous beasts. “DROWSERYF!” he shouted, and his sword burst into flames. He swung the sword in a perfect cut towards one of the beasts, but it passed through the monster like a carrot through a whisp of fog.

“Demonfire!!!!!!!!!!” cursed Damien Fell. “I am a being of Darkness, and as such, can’t harm these conjerations of Shadouwe! Amberlae! Mayden of Lyghte! You must use your powers of Lyghte to banish these foul beasts!”

Amberlae nodded, and closed her eyes. From deep within her, she drew a breath, and found the word for the spell she needed. And opening them, her normally sapphire blue eyes burned with golden fire.

“NO’PALC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” screamed Amberlae.

Immediately the world, which had been flooded with shadow, suddenly burst into flaming, silvery light. The earth shook far beneath them, and the monsters that Damien Fell had been fighting screamed. Having been exposed to pure Lyghte, the beings that were conjurations of Shadouwe crumbled into dust, uttering one final scream of anguish as they vanished into wind-blown ash.

The griffons flew in an island of light, surrounded by a sea of seething, churning darkness.

“Well done, princess!” shouted Shaira from Skug’s back. “If I hadn’t believed you were a being of phenomenal cosmic power before, I certainly do now. That saved our bacon!!!!!”

“We’re not safe yet!!!!!!!!” shouted Amberlae. “To the Womb of SHadow and Light, griffons! And step on it!”

We are at your service and your lover’s, said Jorquim, and he beat his wings three times. Then, he shot off ahead, with the noise like a thunderstorm: the exploding sound of a sonic boom. His mates, Qa’oshaabaan and Skug, followed.

They flew over the hard cold snowy plains of the Northlands, until they passed over a range of tall snowy mountains and then came to a vast, open inland sea, racked with storms, with pirate ships and trade vessels plainly visible far below. Then after that, they flew over the Forest of Nokturnus, the largest forest in the world, filled with shadowy monsters and the race of Wood Aelves, of which race Amberlae’s mother was a member. They flew out of that forest, and came to the Plains of Bazaan Dûr, where the Seven Topaz Cities lie: Makkandor, and Jodhrhim, Bright Fharggülm and Quáyne, the twin cities of Lesh’amar and Zebbdôs, and the greatest of all of them, Great Marobhavandabar, the city where the half-immortal Emperor Ulkas CXLVIII sat brooding on his silvery throne. After that, they flew over the Marshes of Aeioubaldaar, and then over the Ebony Coast, with its rich jewelled cities. Finally, they passed over a narrow straight at the end of a peninsula, and came to a small volcanic island. In the center of that island was a massive volcano like a shattered claw stretching against the sky, with a waterfall of lava pouring from the volcano’s entrance. Jorquim and his two mates landed there, on a narrow outcropping of obsidian sticking out of the lake of lava a mile below, and there it was that the three companions dismounted.

“We have reached the Womb of Shadow and Light,” Damien Fell said.


It’s not easy, being crazy.

I stare into the mirror at my tangled hair and my staring eyes and I look back at myself and all I can think is, How did I get to be this person?

And every night, I lie awake, fearing to close my eyes, fearing to even blink– because I know that if I do, if I fall asleep, the dreams will come, and I’ll see it again: the gas mask, impassive and staring, gazing down at me with cold eyes, with no emotion, just a blank, staring mask, like a knife directly into my soul, forever…

There’s a place in my head that I dare not go, for I know that if I do, I’ll hear nothing but the echoing screams, the screams inside my skull, the screams of fear.

I am a haunted man.

I am a hunted man.

I don’t know what I’m going to do.

I am being consumed.

~ Ian


The Epic Legend of Damien Fell

Chapter 8: The Tale of Light and Shadow

The three compainions— Damien Fell, Amberlae, and Sharia– sat around a campfire int he middle of the barren northern waists, five hundred miles away from Shadouwegaard. It was cold, and the sound of the Targathian Bloodhawkes screeching and skirling loudly across the moorlands was like the sound of death and destruction echoing across the wilderness.

Amberlae was afraid, of course. She huddled close to Damion Fell, who had one strong muscular arm wrapped close around her shoulders, and held her close to him. She felt comforted by his nearness. The warmth and the smell of his body was soothing, and she wanted to sink into his arms and lie there forever. She had accepted her position as his lover, and knew that she wanted nothing more than to be by his side until the day she died.

“So, can you tell me what exactly happened back there?” asked Shaira, who sat polishing her chain with a dispassoinate expression on her cold and beautiful face.

“It is a long story,” said Damien Fell. “But I believe that you know what’s going on, don’t you, my love?” And he stroked Amberlae’s red-gold hair with his warm, leathery hand.

“I…. I believe I do……” said Amberlae. “Deep within me. I know.”

And she took a deep breath, and began to speak.

“Every child that grows up in  Evershyria knows about the eternal conflict between Lyghte and Darkness. And they also know that there is Shadouwe between then, the darkness that is created by Lyghte, the neutral party in the cosmic conflict that defines the universe.” She picked up a stick and started drawing in the dirt, a drawing that showed what looked like a sandwich, with two slices of bread and a piece of meat in the center.

“There are three plains of existance,” said the Princess. She gestured to the meat in the cosmic sandwich, and said, “There is Evershyria, which as we all know id the mortal realm, the realm that is the home of the living. Evershyria is the plane where mortals dwell, and it is also the battlefield between Lyghte and Darkness that is the defining conflict of the universe.”

Amberlae then pointed at the two pieces of bread that made up the outer layers of the multiverse. “But the mortal plane is transient, and when the inhabitants of Evershyria die, then they go to either Heaven or Hell, depending on whether they have been followers of the Lyghte or the Darkness. And, as we all know, these planes are eternal. They do not fluctuate in the way that the mortal realm does. They are the homes of the immortals, the angels and demons and gods that define the universe. And then outside this all, there is Chaos: the seething vaccume where nothing but darkness and fire rains. These are the realms of unspeakable horror. Chaos is the plane that is not a plane, the realm of madness that exists outside of the multiverse.”

“I’m well aware of all this,” said Shaira gruffly. “But what does this have to do with any of what happened back in Shadouwegaard?”

“It’s simple,” said Damien Fell. “It is known  that there is a ciclical pattern to existence, and these cycles are based around two eternally reincarnated cosmic souls: the Maiden of Lyghte, and the Warrior of Darkness. These two beings are two halves of the same soul. They are like the two faces of a coin. And those are the beings that Amberlae and I are.”

“You’re saying that you’re some kind of powerful uber-souls?” said Shaira, laughing. “I’ll believe it when I see it!”

“But you have seen it, SHaira,” said Amberlae softly. “You saw it back in Shadouwegaard. For as you know, Damien Fell died back there. And I brought him back to life with a kiss. Because, you see, I am life itself, just as Damien Fell is Death Incarnate. And you know that life cannot exist without death, you see?”

“Of course,” said Shaira. “Im’ an assassin, don’t you think that I’d know that death and life are really just the same thing?”

“So it is with me and Amberlae,” said DamienFell. We are cosmic beings. One a mortal, one immortal. One of Lyghte, one of Darkness. We have lived millions of lives in the past, and we will live millions of lives in the future. We are the fulcrum on which the cosmic lever lifts.”

“This all seems very strange,” said Shaira. “But what does this have to do with anything?”

“It is prophesized,” said Amberlae, “that as each cycle of existence comes to an end, the Maiden of Lyghte and the Warrior of Darkness will come together as one at the Womb of Shadow and Light, and join together as one flesh. Then will the Maiden of Lyghte’s belly swell,a nd she will give birth to a child. A beautiful child, a powerful child: half mortal, half immortal.”

“That’s nothing special,” said Shaira. “There are cambions and heaventouched all over Everyshria. “

“Ah, but you see, I am not a demon<“ said Damien Fell. “Nor am I an angel. I am half-demon and half-angel. I am myself a fusion of Lyghte and Darkness. And that is what makes me special. That is what will make our child special. For within her, will be contained a conflux of Lyghte and Darkness and mortality. She will be an incarnation of Shadouwe, and because of this she will bring an end to the universe, and remake it anew.”

“And end to existence????” said Shaira. “That’s horrible! Why would this happen?”

“It must happen,” said Amberlae. “As you know, life is about balance. My child—- our child——— will bring balance to the multiverse”

“And she will make it again,” said Damien Fell. “She will bring destruction, but also creation. She will bring death, but also life. She will be the wheel that existance turns around. Her children will be the gods of the new world that will be forged out of the embers of the last.”

Shaira paused, stairing into the flames of the campfire. “And will this world be better than the last?”

“I hope so,” said Amberlae. “Whatever it will b e like, our child will bring it. But I will never live to see it. And neither will you. And neither will Damien.”

There was a long and silent pause. Finally, Sharia said, “I don’t understand this fully, Damien Fell. But you did me a favor back at the Fiendfang, by saving me from that lord Hateshadowe. I will follow you, wherever you want to go. I will escort you to the Womb of Light and Shadow. I swear it on all gods living or dead. I swear it on the moon. I swear it on my life.”

“You are an honorable woman,” said Damien Fell.

“Of course I am,” said Shaira. “I’m an assassin. Don’t you know that we’re the last honorable people in the multiverse?”


As the companions prepared to bed down for the night, Amberlae snuggled close to Damien Fell underneath their bedroll, which they shared now, having become lovers.

“I meant it when I said it,” she whispered. “I’ve never had sex before, and I’m still a virgin. But I want you to be inside me, and I want to feel my belly grow heavy with our child. I want to make love to you, Damien. And I wanted to from the firt moment i saw you.”

“You know why that cannot be,” said Damien Fell.

“I know it,” she said dismissively. “But I still want you. Now. I want to feel your rough shaft penetrating into my softest place. I want to make love to you until we both scream. I want your babies. I want your sex. I want you to be mine.”

“I know what you want,” said Damien Fell, “and you cannot have it. Not yet.”

Amberlae kissed the nape of Damien’s neck, and nuzzled his cheek with her soft perky nose. “I know that. And I will wait. But I must reward you in some way for saving me back at that inn.”

And her small, nimble fingers quested down to his pants, and she unzipped them, placing her fingers around his already erect penis.

Amberlae whispered, “I have heard that certain courtisannes of Karass Mor perform this action. My betrothed, Travyss of Rayvenhawke, was a frequent patron of brothels, and he would tell me about the acts of love that they would perform on their clients. I will do the same now for you, my love.” And she disappeared under the blankets.

“What are you……..” Damien Fell murmured, and then he knew. “Oh. ……oh.

They lay there for hours, as Amberlae pleasured Damien Fell with her mouth and hands and lips and tounge, sucking and licking at his erect member until she brought him to his full, and she swallowed his seed eagerly. And when she finished, it was his turn to dissapear under the blankets, and use his mouth and hands and lips and tongue, until Amberlae was brought to an earth-shattering orgasm by his skill— the first that she’d ever enjoyed—– and they finished, and lay there under the stars, holding each other, listening the the heartbeat of the earth untill they drifted off to sleep.


A cold wind blew out of the North, and upon it was the scent of blood and hatred.

It passed over field and forest, over city and widlerness. It swept across the world, and upon its black breath was the agonized screaming of a dead soul consumed by anger primordial. As the wind passed over the lands of Evershyria, those who stood by, watching and wondering as the storm roared out of the North could hear a voice on the wind, a voice that cracked with malic, a voice that was tortured with pain and anger and death, a voice that was like the dead ice at the heart of every glacier, a voice that was Evil.

DAMIEN FELL…………………….. it whispered. I’M COMING FOR YOU………………………………………………………………………

The wind sought a vessel, a person to be consumed with its evil, to reek its revenge. Soon it came across a lone rider coming to Shadowegaard, and it smiled, as it could sense fear and anger inside this soul, this man with his flowing golden hair and his magestic broadsword Rayventallon on his back. It was Travyss Hawke, the Prince of Rayvenhawke, whose nostrils were already filled with the scent of revenge.

Travyss Hawke reigned in his horse, patting it’s side as he dismounted. “I can smell her,” she said. “I can smell Amberlae.”

Travyss? came the voice of Amberlae from across the moors. I’m so cold and lonley. Won’t you come towards me? Won’t you warm me with the embrace of your massive arms? Won’t you comfort me with your manhood?

“I will my love!!!!” exclaimed Travyss. “I will!!!!!!!”

She appeared like a shimmering wraith out from the mist, her red-gold hair falling down her back, as naked as the day she was born. Travyss could feel himself stiffen as he saw her perfevt breasts, her long and perfectly hair less legs, and the delicate patch of soft fuzz that concealed her perfect vagina, the place where he wanted to sink into more than everything else, to gaze upon and feel, the place that no man had touched.

Travyss, Amberlae said. My love. and she came to him, and kissed him with her full pouty lips, and put her arms around him. He kissed back. She tasted like wild honey and rose water.

Then from out of the mist, came a warrior. Tall and dark, cloaked in shadow, his eyes burning with heatless flame. The warrior grabbed Amberlae, and renched her from Travyss’s grasp, pulling backwards until the warm bundle of naked softness was gone from where he held her.

Travyss! cried Amberlae. My love! HELP ME!!!!!!!!!

“AMBERLAAAAAAEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!” whaled Travyss, but it was too late. His princess had disappeared back into the mist, vanishing from where he beheld her into the shadows.

“NO!” ejaculated Travyss, and knelt down and wept. “NO! NO! NO!”

Then there was a sound like a whisper at Travyss’s ear, and this is what it said:

You want to find her, don’t you? You want to make her yours. You want to recsue her from the man who stole her from you. 

There is nothing more I want,” said Travyss. “I want to claim her. I want to claim her as my own. I want my kingdom. I want my love.”

I can help you to get that, said the voice on the wind. I can make the man who stole her pay. And I need you to do one thing for me.

“Of course,” said Travyss. “I’d do anything to get my Amberlae back.”

Then let me enter you, whispred the voice. Let me feed on your life, in exchange for unimagineable power. Let me join with your soul. I have strength the likes of which you can only dream of. All you need to do is say the words, ‘I give you leave to enter me.”

“And this will get Amberlae back to me?” said Travyss.

Of course, said the voice. Would I lie?

“Of course not,” said Travyss. “Very well. If it gets my love back to me, I have no choice but to sumbit.”

Travyss took a deep breath, and intoned, “I give you leave to enter me.”

Immediately Travyss felt something peircing his soul, a stabbing feeling like ice entering every orifice of his body. He screamed, but no sound came out. It felt like liquid fire was flowing through every part of his body.

Soon, though, it was over. And Travyss felt stronger than ever before. Magic siffused every vein of his being.

All right,” said Travyss. “Let’s go, then.

He grinned. If anyone had been looking on, they would have known that Travyss’s eyes had suddenly become jet black, the color of the Chaos that seethes outside the universe. His teeth were sharp, and fanged. He was prepared to kill.

What is your name, my new friend?

The voice spoke, and said, Lord Hateshadowe.

Awesome,” said Travyss. And spreading his toothed mouth wide, he spoke a word of power. “Worcmrots.”

Immediately twelve pitch-black ravens appeared, and he spoke to them. “Find Amberlae and her capter. Report back to me if you find them.

The ravens flew off in a blast of black feathers. Travyss remounted his horse.

We ride.

I was taking a nap in my room when a crossbow bolt shattered my window, breaking it to pieces and embedding itself six inches into my wall.

There was a scroll taped clumsily to the butt of the crossbow bolt.

I opened it, and to nobody’s surprise, it was a new chapter of The Epic Legend of Damien Fell.

This goddamn novella is driving me insane. I don’t know what I’m going to do.

I’m starting to fear for my life.

The kid in the gas mask… he’s crazy.

What am I going to do?

Why am I asking you?

~ Ian


The Epic Legend of Damien Fell

Chapter 7: Requiem of Shadow

Damien Fell and the naked incubus faced each other across from each other in the cramped confines of the inn room. Damien Fell’s eyes blazed with an unholy light as he stared at the incubus, gripping Stormshadow in a two handed guard-position.

I recognize you, mortal, said the incubus. You are the child of Ayshanna the succubuss and an angelic knight. The one who was banished from hell……….. sent to the mortal realm to die.

“I’m toughter than I look,” said Damien Fell, stating deeply into the incubus’s yellow, catlike eyes.

You……… you are the Warrior of Darkness???? The one who legend states will bring about the child that will remake the world??

“You should know that legends always come true,” said Damien Fell. “After all you are a creature of legend.”

The incubus beared sharp, jagged fang-teeth. Aye, young angel’s bastard, he said. And do you know who I am?

“You are Xanoxxos,” said Damien Fell. “The lord of Incubi, and a baron of the second circle of Hell. A being of Lust incarnate.”

I see you recall me, Ayshanna’s son, said Xanoxxos. For I had your mother betimes, whenever I happened to come to her palace.

“I wouldn’t forget you, Xanoxxos. But what I’m wondering is, what are you doing on the mortal plane?”

Xanoxxos grinned yellowly. A fair question, Damien Fell. I came to the mortal realm to feed, for what other purpose would I have to enter this domain? Clothing myself in the form of a cambion, I made my way to Shadouwegaard, where I happened to see this toothsome young wench. Knowing her name and title—– for there are no women on the mortal plain more beautiful than she——- I made my way to her, in order that I might feed on her Life Essence. Had I known that she was the Maiden of Lyghte, and you the Warrior of Dartness, I would have acted more…………… prudently.

“What’s he talking about, damien?!?” cried Amberlae. “What’s he mean by this? Who is the Mayden of Lyghte? Is he talking about me?????”

Surely you have informed the girl about her density, have you not, Damien Fell? smugged Xanoxxos. For I would assume that one so old and potent as you would know that the longer she knoweth not about her true self, the world will sink deeper and deeper into Chaos…………….

“I have not seen fit to inform her,” said Damien Fell.

So be it, said Xanoxxos. I shall end the cycle of Life and Destruction here—- by killing you both, and thus shall I bring your souls to Hell!!!!!!!

With these words, the incubus charged directly at Damien Fell, with his claws extending three feet from his sharp fingers. He slashed at Damien Fell with the striking speed of a jungle cat, but Damien Fell blocked every blow the incubus aimed at him. They moved in a blizzard of steel and flame, Damien Fell moving with assured confidance, the demon striking like Madness incarnate in flesh. They fought like Shadouwe and Darkness mingled, like the flickering of a candle flame.

And Damien Fell pressed the Baron of Hell closer and closer to the wall, cutting his sword into the demon lord’s flesh, until Xanaxxos screamed with pain and rage, and black blood fell like rain all around the inn room, burning the wood of the floor and the furnishings.

For a brief moment, it seemed like Damien Fell was going to win the battle. But for a moment, he positioned his feet wrong, overextended on a swordslash, and Xanoxxos with a howel of rage thrust his claws out, skewering Damien Fell through the stomach and back, until his claws stuck out the back of Damien Fell’s back, blood-red and slicked shiny-slick………………..

“DAMIEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” cried Amberlae.

Damien fell to the ground, clutching his wounded stomach in pain and agony.

You are beaten, child of Lyghte and Darkness, said Xanoxxos. I am the superior fighter. For all your angelic heritage….. I am still your better.

“That’s true, gasped Damien Fell. “But I have one strategy that you don’t.”

Oh?????? smiled the incubus. And, what pray might that be?

“I fight dirty,” said Damien Fell.

And with that, in a puff of black smoke, Shaira the assassin of the Shadow Syndicate appeared behind the incubus, a long dagger clenched in her slender figners. With one, quick, precise thrust, she stabbed the Baron of Hell’s Second Circle directly between the ribs, impailing him.

NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 wailed Xanoxxos, and slumped to the ground. Curse you to the end, Damien Fell!!!!!!! May the everlasting curse of a Lord of Hell follow you and your descendants unto eternity…………… And with that Xanoxxos liquified and melted into a puddle of sticky black ooze.

“Stupid……. demon………..” gasped Damien Fell. “Eternity…………. is almost…………. over…………………….” And with those portentious last words, Damien Fell died.

NOOOOOO!” exclaimed Amberlae. “Damien! You can’t be dead! I— I love you!!!!” And with that, Princess Amberlae sprang to her feet, and bent closely over Damien Fell, weeping hot tears over his body. ANd as she spoke these words, Amberlae knew it—— somehow deep with in her bones, she knew, Damien Fell and her were two parts of the same whole, two souls sundered, meant to be together, always joined, for eternity……………………………………………………………………………

As Amberlae clutched her naked form to Damien Fell’s butchered one, Shaira said, “Let him go, child. He’s gone. Gone forever.”

“I……. I can’t lose him……………………” And she bent close to Damien Fell’s cold, bloodstained lips, kissing him with a passion she had never felt before, a passion that was stronger than any love felt between two people in history………..

And with her kiss, with the mingling of blood and saliva, Amberlae began to glow………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The very air seemed charged with electricity as Amberlae kissed Damien Fell, and with the touch of their lips, her living ones and Damien’s dead ones, Shaira could only look on in wonder as the two of them lit up with light…… but Damien Fell’s corps glowed as if lit with darkness, a black light that mingled with Amberlae’s bright silver light, mixing and melding and coiling together like braided ropes of light and shadow. And as they touched lips, it seemed to Amberlae that Damien Fell’s lips grew warm under hers, and she could feel his warm breath against hers…………………………………………………….

And Damien Fell awoke from the sleep of death.

He opened his dark eyes, gazed into Amberlae’s perfect green ones, and smiled feintly.

“You brought me back,” he whispered.

And with that, they fell into passion. Amberlae had never been kissed before, not by anyone at all, not even by her betrothed, Prince Travysse of Rayvenhawke. The two of them moved under each other, and Amberlae could feel Damien Fell stroking her perfectly round, perky breasts, rubbing her backside and running his hands all up and down her back, until her nipples stood up as proud and erect as standing stones, until her sheath honeyed and she wanted nothing more than to feel his long, thrusting manhood deep within her, hurting her and pleasuring her and making her bleed, until she was brought to the height of woman’s passion and she felt his hot wet seed spurt deep within her womb, two bodies made one in the act of love……………………………………………………..

But as she felt herself ready to open, to give herself entirely to him, he pulled back.

“No,” he said. “As much as I would love to….. as much as I love you…….. I cannot. You must remain a virgin when we reach the Womb of Shadow and Light. If you are not……….. there may be disastrous consequences.”

“But I want you,” said Amberlae. “I want you inside me.”

Damien Fell stroked her cheek tenderly. “You are the Mayden of Light, and I am the Warrior of Darkness. We are destined to be together. There will be time enough for the two of us to join together in the union of love. But until then……………… until we have reached the Womb of Shadow and Light…………… we cannot. We must not. For if  we do, then there will be no hope. There will be no hope for a child to be born from the two of us. And if there is no child, then in the coming conflict, then there will be noone to guide the world through the fire and flames and into a new age. The world will perish.”

“I……… I think I understand……………….” said Amberlae.

“Good girl,” said Damien Fell, and he kissed Amberlae on her full, pouty lips. “But for now, I fear that Shadouwegaard has become unsafe for us. We must ride southeast. We must get to the Womb of Shadow and Light.”

There was a pause, during which no one said anything.

Finally, it was broken by Shaira.

“Okay, I have to ask,” she said. “What the fuck is going on???????”


I saw the boy in the gas mask again today.

He’s been following me. I know it. Today I went out of the house, and I saw him there, not hiding, not doing anything really, just standing there and watching me. He glanced at my feet, and I saw it: another chapter of The Epic Legend of Damien Fell.

I’m starting to get nervous. I think this boy in the gas mask is driving me crazy.

Last night, I had a dream. I was in the trenches of World War I, and all around me were men, men in gas masks, staring at me, watching. I knew the mustard gas was coming, and I had no gas mask, and I was going to choke, choke and die in horrible pain…

And then I realized I was naked.

Am I going crazy?

~ Ian


The Epic Legend of Damien Fell

Chapter 6: City of Shadows

The city of Shadouwegaard was the largest city in the frozen waistlands of the North. Standing alone at the crossing point of six long and trackless roads, the city was thousnads of miles away from any other major citadel or habitation. Home to mainly humans, with a smattering of dwarvyn miners and warriors and a few dark aelves, the land around Shadouwegaard was covered in snow twenty-seven months out of the year (the year in Evershyria has thirty-four months).

Because of the bitter freezing cold that dominated the land around the city most of the year, the city was built into a vast cavern at the heart of a great mountain that stood alone on the plains. There were six entrances to the mountain’s heart, guarded day and night by elite dwarvyn warriors who manned the city’s patrols of clockwork statues that would act as guards at the gates.

As Damien Fell and Amberlae were coming in from the North, they came in through the Polar Gate.

The road into the mountain was crowdad with travelers, who were desperate to get inside the mountain, because a massive blizzard was blowing in from the North, and would soon choke the land around the mountain with snow. As Damien Fell and the Princess came through the Polar Gate, Amberlae hazed with wonder around her, at the short, bearded efficient little men, clad in thick heavy armor and weilding sharp axes and stout hammers.

“Iv’e never seen dwarves before, she said.”

“They are common up here in this part of the world,” said Damien Fell. “Where you live, in the Human Kingdoms of the far South, there are barely any of them. It is too hot, and their beards get very sweaty and smell like a dead goat. So they stay up here, in the frozen North,n where they are better suited for the environment.”

“Still, it seems strange that I’ve never seen one in my life,” said Amberlae.

One of the little men, who had a thick sable beard and a stranged spiked helmet, glared at her coldly. She shivered at the look in the dwraf’s steel blue eyes, and unconsiously huddled closer to Damien Fell.

“Don’t be afraid of them,” said Fell in a somewaht reasurring voice. “They’re just as unackustomed to the sight of a half-aelfynn maiden like yourself as you are to the sight of them.” And he spode to the dwarvynn warrior in his own tongue: “J’rbra’ad z’liqq tp’nizz uffa zypplikh’tikh g’taa.

F’qaa y’tu, ezw’p,” said the dwarf in reply.

“What did you say to him?’ asked the Princess.

“Mearly a greeting in his own native tongue,” replied Damien Fell.

They made their way through the great Polar Gate, and came out in the main cavern of the underground city of Shadouwegaard. Amberlaes mouth fell open with shock and wonder as she stated around her. The great bowl-shaped cavern depression of the hollowed out inside of the mountain seemingly stretched for miles in front of her, and in the light of torches and blue mushrooms, it looked like a great field of stars was spread out below her. The underground towers of the city stretched up towards the ceiling, and high above her, she could see the roof of the cavern stretching into endless darkness.

“I’d never think that anyone could build a city underground like this,” said Amberlae.

“In the wilds of the great Northlands, there are many perils,” repiled Damien Fell. “This place is a refuge from them. In the pampered South, you are immune from the harshnesses of the world. Here in the wilderness, people must make do with what they have.”

Damien Fell parked his horse in front of an inn, and the two of them went inside.

Inside the tavern it was dark and smoky, and dozens of poeple of all sorts of different races crowded around the bra, drinking thick mugs of heady ale, as well as the famous brew of the city’s stills, the black, tarry liquid that was called Shadouwegaard Blacktar. A fire burned on the hearth, and a large stew pot filled the room with a stewy aroma.

The inkeeper, a tall scarred human man with long flowing read hair, nodded curtly to Damien Fell. “Rooms is it you’ll be needing, Damien?” he asked.

“Aye, that’s true,” said Damien Fell. “Two rooms. One for me, and one for the lady. And make sure the lady’s room stays unmolested.”

“Yuh, that’ll be good,” said the innkeeper. “Rooms mine in be the rooms the safest the city.”

“Why does he talk like the way he does?” asked Amberlae in a hushed whipser.

“I knew him twenty years ago, when he was an adventurer,” said Damien Fell. “Unfortunately he had to stop that when he took an arrow to the knee. The trauma of that incident scrambled his brain’s speech processors, and he hasn’t talked normally since.”

“Lady muchly pretty Damien that you having there, m’boy,” said the Innkeeper, and a fowl leer came across his scarred face. “For sale is she?”

WHAT?????” snapped Amberlae. “I’ll have you know—–

“Hush,” said Damien. And he said to the innkeeper, “No. She’s not for sale.”

“Pity,” siad the innkeep, and he produced two iron keys from under the table. “203 and 204 your rooms upstairs, floor second door on the sixth left seventh. Nice a have day.”

“Thank you,” said Damien, and he lead Amberlae away before she could protest again.

“How could you let him insult me like that????” Amberlae said angrily. “I am a princess of Karass Mor!!!”

“Not here, you are’nt,” said damien, and his scarred handsome face grew dark. “Look, Amberlae. I know that in the human Kingdoms you would be expected to be treated like a goddess. But you’re not in the human kingdoms. You’re in the Wildlands now, and we have enemies. I know that I destroyed the Conclave of blood, a while ago, but there are still dangers. And I fear for the worst. You must not show your face. You must not leave this inn. I fear for your life, Amberlae. And I fear that you will be taken away from me—- after all I have worked for—– if you leave the inn. Enemies are here, Amberlae, and I fear for your life. Do not leave this inn.”

A strange looking frog man stepped out of the shadowes, and said with a rasping voice, “Damien Fell……………?

Damien looked at the frogman. “What?” he asked.

A woman in black is looking for you, Damien Fell,” said the frogman.

“Good,” said Damien. “She’s here.” He gazed softly at Amberlae. “I have to go, Princess. But I will come back before sunset. You will not be taken on my watch.” And he turned to go, the frongman going with her.

Amberlae stared at his smooth, perfectly muscled ass as he left, hating herself for enjoying the view so much. Then she turned into the room and lay down on the soft down bed, closing her eyes and simking into sleep……………………………………..


Amberlae awoke from her dream with strange emotions and tubulent chaotic feelings seething through her head. She had strange dreams, dreams that she couldn’t quite remember but when she awakened, her loins were wet and her stomach slightly fluttery. She didn’t know what to feel. Amberlae felt so confused.

Amberlae felt hungry. She didn’t know how long she had slept for– there was no natural light in the dark carverns under the mountain of Shadouwegaard. So she went out of the room which Damien Fell had gotten for her, and went down the stairs, where there was a crowd of people—- mainly humans with long scraggley hair and thick beards, but there were also dwarves, squat and hairy like moss covered rocks, and in addition to that there were even a few dark aelves, who sat in the corners and spoke softly to each other in thier own tongue in quiet, smooth voices. And there were even more members of the other races: two orcs, each one eight feet tall and with skin the color of a pickle, who drank huge qauntities of Shadouwegaard Blacktar and sang nasty brutish songs in loud gravelly voices; a couple Frog men who ate plates of giant insects, statching them from off their plates with long distended blue tounges, and gazed around the room with huge bulging yellow-brown eyes; Crab Men from Karshamyr, who clicked and clacked with their clicking clacking mandibles; and even (it looked like) a cambion, one of the cursed race of half-demons born from the mating of an incubus or succubus and a mortal. The cambion sat in the courner of the room. He had long, flowing silver hair, and burning yellow eyes, slit like cats. He watched Amberlae with his cat’s eyes, sipping gently at his ale, his face an unreadable mask.

“Hello, barkeep<“ Amberlae said to the inkeeper, who regarded her stonily with his deeply scarred face. “I was wondering—- if you maybe knew what time it is?”

“Be it of the late evening morning early maybe,” said the innkeeper in his strange accent. “Not day-folks time for out goings. Miss, bed in you being sleeping should this time of night.”

“have you seen Damien Fell?” asked Amberlae. “I’ve been wondering if he has returned from where he said he was going.

“Mister Master Damien Fell here being isn’t, or iffen he be, I’m not of the knowing,” said the Innjeeper. “Be he maybe outings and gone for time maybe twelve hours long, so there.”

“I see,” said Amberlae, who didn’t. “Do you have any food?”

The innkeeper nodded, and went to the back room. He brought out a large bowl of stew, which Amberlae regarded with some suspicion. She was a Princess, used to dainties and trifles served to her on platinum plates. She wasn’t used to eating stew served in wooden bowels, with a horn spoon to eat it with and a crust of moldy bread on the side to mop up the juices.

Still, she started eating, and she had to admit, it was pretty good— thick and hardy, and heavily spiced too. She ate it with all manner of enjoyments, and when she finished it was a lot less hungry.

A man sat down next to her at the table, and she realized that it was the cambion that had been watching her earlier. ‘Can I buy milady a drink?” asked the cambion, and his voice was as oily and smooth as a greased pig.

SHe looked him up and down: he seemed a little bit on the greasy side, but she was thirsty after her big bowl of stew.

“All right,” she said.

“What would milady prefer to imbibe this eventide?” asked the Cambion.

“I believe that a glass of chilled fruit juice would be fine. A glass of pineapple juice, maybe, or fresh-picked mango. Or–” and her eyes lit up at this- “could I have a glass of Harharrakhan dragonfruit juice? I haven’t hda a glass of that since I left the South.”

The cambion looked puzzled. “I don’t…….. believe that they serve fruit juice here at this establishment, milday,” he said.

“Oh,” she said, and her shoulders sank. “What do they serve?”

“Well, they have beer, and firewater, and Shadouwegaard Blacktar.”

“What kind of beer do they serve?” asked Amberlae.

He looked puzzled. “……..The kind with alcohol in it………….?” he said confusedly.

She sihged. “All right. Il’l have one of those.”

He ordered two beers, and they came fresh and foaming. Amberlae picked hers up curiously, and sniffed at it. Then she took a catious sip of ale. SHe’d never had abeer before. The alcohol in it burned like fire on it’s way down her throat. Amberlae gapsed in sudden shock, then covered up her discomfort with a burst of loud coughing.

“Whats’ the matter”? asked the cambion, smirking. “Is the ale not to your liking, wench?”

Amberlae kept coughing, when suddenly, she realized that she could’nt stop. She cultched her throat in sudden terror, then with her eyes wide, she fell down, onto the floor………………………


She awakened in a darkened room, lit only by candles and a small brassiere that flamed in the corner, its embers glowing like the eyes of a jungle cat. She was sprawled naked on a bed, and realized with sudden shock that her hands and feet were tied to the four posts of the bed, leaving her legs sligthly parted, leaving her vagina exposed.

“By the gods…………..” moaned the Princess. “Where am I?”

The cambion appeared fro the shadows. He was wearing nothing but a towel around his waste, and his eyes glinted with malevolent delight in the fire light.

“I knew you immediately for who you were when I saw you downstairs………” said the  cambion. “The most beautiful woman in the world, clearly…………… You could be no other than the delectable Amberlae, Half-Aelfynn Princess of Karass Mor and daughter of King Estuvi.”

“Let me go!!!!!!!” screamed Amberlae in petulant anger. She squirmed and thrashed around on the bed, but her bonds only seemed to tighten further. “Let me go, or i’ll—-”

“Nobody can hear you, princess,” said the cambion, smiling a simile of pure malevolence. “The walls of this room are ensorcelled against any sonic penetration. We’re all alone, just you and me.”

“How did you get me here????” cried Amberlae.

“The juice of the Purple Lotus flower,” said the Cambion, “is a highly subtle and deadly poison that causes unconciousness and pliability in people when administered orally.”

“So….. you poisonedme?!?!” exclaimed Amberlae.

“By the Seventeen Hells, you are thick, aren’t you?” said the cambion. “Of course I poisoned you. And now I have you all to myself.”

And with this, he dropped the towel around his waist to the floor, and Amberlae could see his erect phallus bobbing in the air. He came over to her, almost tenderly, almost gently, and slid his fingers into the honeyed crevice between her legs……………………….

At this touch, Amberlae felt something burn inside her. She knew not where it came from, but somehow, deep within her, a Word grew in her chest, a Word of Phenomenal Power, that somehow she’d always known, she’d just never let it out……………………………………………

Like a sneeze, Amberlae felt the word building inside her, and




F’FOKARF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” yelled Amberlae with all her might…………..

………………and the ropes binding her burst in a blast of light, which seemed to eminate from every pore of her naked body, throwing the naked cambion twenty feet across the room, onto the opposite door.

Amberlae’s whole body ached. Though she tried to stand up, she couldn’t. Her limbs were as weak as wet newspappers, and she could no nothing but lye there panting, her breasts heaving, and cry.

And out of the corner of her eye, the cambion rose……………….

Only he was no cambion. He was a tall, dark-skinned man——— no, not a man, for a man could not have skin as shiny and black as a beetle’s carapace. A pair of majestic horns rose from his head, and she could see that his body was covered in a sheen of red sweat…………. not sweat, she realized, but droplets of blood. Between his legs a penis the size of a baseball bat swung. The former-cambion turned its eyes on her, and in their topaz stare she knew what this man was………………… an incubus, straight from hell.

“No…..” murmured Amberlae.

Can the legends be true? murmured teh incubus. Can it be that the Maiden of Lyghte hath returned to the world?

“I don’t know!!!” cried Amberlae. “I don’t know who I am!!!!!!!”

Be that the case, said the incubus, wiping a long purple tongue along his reptilian lips, I will still take your life energy through sex magic and drain you dry before the Warrior of Darkness returns………..

The walls suddenly shattered, and Damien fell stepped in through the wreakage, brandishing his greatsword Stormshadow in one hand.

“Too late,” he quipped. “He’s already here.”


So, I was walking downtown when a homeless guy came up to me.

“Some kid over there wanted you to have this,” he said, giving me a sheaf of papers. And he pointed back over his shoulder, where a young teen in a hoodie and gas mask peeked out at me from an alley.

“Great. Did he tell you not to read it, in fear that you might steal his awesome ideas?”

“Naw. I can’t read, y’see.”


“So… y’got any meth?”

After telling the homeless guy that the kid in the gas mask over there had meth for him, I examined the papers, and saw a Post-it Note affixed to the front.

It said:


My stupid mom said that my stupid little brother had to help me with this chapter. She says that it’s nice to share, and so she made me collaborate. And now I have to give him half the money for the story, because he’s a collaborator. 

Please don’t put the part my brother wrote on your blog. It sucks. You’ll be able to tell which part it is by the fact that you’ll get to the part that starts sucking.


I read the story, and honestly, I decided not to change anything. Our mysterious author’s little brother is a brilliant writer, honestly. I see Pulitzers in his future.

Anyway, here’s Chapter 5.

~ Ian


The Epic Legend of Damien Fell

Chapter Five: Shrouded in Shadow

As morning fell over the foggy shrouded mists of the northlands, Princess Amberlae and Damien Fell came to a secluded valley. A churning, boiling watterfall spewed over the granite rocks in the north end of the valley, and the smell of sulfer came form a crack in the rock. Huge statues guarded the exit to the valley, towering sentinels of stone carved from the living white rock. As Amberlae came to the valley, she could feel Power humming in her very bones. This was a place of great Magycke, she knew that, a place where the earth itself concentrated into a nexus of energy.

Around her waist were the powerful, solid muscular arms of Damien Fell. She found herself wondering at their toch. The feel of his hot humid breath on the back of her smooth alabaster neck was strangely arousing, filling her with a heretofore unfelt mixture of love and dread. This man– Damien Fell, a demonic, angelic assassin straight out of legend– made her feel things she’d never felt before. Amberlae simultaniously wanted to run and scream from him, and also to wrap her arms and legs around him and feel the power of his warm love flow through her. She was conflicted. She was a child of Lyghte, a daughter of humans and wood aelves, but at the same time she was drawn to the Shadouwe that was Damien Fell.

What is happening to me? Princess Amberlae asked herself. Am I becoming evil?

Damien Fell rained his horse to a stop, and helped Amberlae dismount. “Here is a good place to camp, he said.

“Why are we stopping?” asked Amberlae. “There are still many more hours of daylight left to go!”

“We assassins draw our power from the darkness,” Fell said. “We do not walk in the light. We are shadow-walkers, night-prowlers. I don’t like the daytime. Darkness is my preferred time.”

“Are you trying to convert me to the Darkness?” asked Amberlae snappishly. “Is that what you want? Well I’m a Princess of Karass Mor, you know, and I will not be sueded to the side of Darkness.”

“I do not wish to convert you to anything,” said Damien Fell.

“Well then, what purpose do you have in bringing me here?”

He turned to her, and his eyes flashed like obsidian reflecting firelight. He stroked her cheek, gently, almost tenderly, and murmured in a soft voice, “My purpose is my own”. Amberlae could feel the wave of mysterious fear and longing go through her body.

“So do you want me, then, is it?” asked Amberlae. “You want my body, do you not! You want to possess me, don’t you?”

heck no, said damian fell. im not going to tocuh u u stinky girl. girls are gross and stinky. i dont want to be nere you.


youre a stupid ulgy girl said dammein fell, and i dont want to see you ever again.

so he druwe his long sorde and he stabbed the icky girl prinsese thru teh stummik with the sorde and she was like AAAA U KLILED ME and then she fell down and their was blode evriwear. IM DED NOW ARE YOU HPAPPEY WITH YURSELD she yelled and daimin fel sed go dye in a poop mine you dumb poopy girl.


damian fell sead okay let me just get my ligthsabere. so he toke his sorde and broak it in haff and then litt the broakin haff on fier with som magic. so the fier burnd and daimn fell sed okay now tihs sord is a laitsabur and he jumpd on opitmus prims back and they flow into oater spase.

ther were all these wairwolfs in cibertron and they were all took ovre the hole place, so damiun fil drouw his sord wich was atchully a litesabrr now like i just told u abote. so then their was a big fite and optimos pryme had tow ligthsabers and they fot all the werwolfs. damin fel killd ten milion weirwolffs andoptmus prime kiled five milion. then ther was a wairwofl boss who was the knig of all warewolfs and he yeled I AM THE MOST POWRFULL OF ALL WAERWULBFS AND YOU CANOT DIFET ME. but daimiun  fall was triky and said we need bakkup! and he yeled so loud taht all the poepl in the yunivruse culd here him.

and al these peple shoud up it was like the’re was darth vader and he brout with him ROBOT HAN SOLO whou was like han solo only he was a robto. and then mario waz their an aslo ash wiht all his pokimans and i think so was sord man form the lords of the rigns. and also ange from avatar came and their was prinse zuko and uncel airo and thay were a teme and did ausom fierbendng. and thear was aslo a JIGANTICK TIRANOSOROS REX woh was being riding by wolferin and spidrmane and the trex cloud brethe fier and also asid and his naim  was FIER PUNCH. and their was a bunche of othre gais and also their was ranebou dash from the my litel ponies shou onley she got kiled bacouase she was a gurl an d gurls cante figth.

so then thwy had the ULTIMUTE BATELL and the bose gote his hedd cout of by daaimn flle and thay thru the hed into a jiunt rivre of poop and pee so that the mots pworefol warwollf couldent com back too liffe. so then their was a big feast in cyebrtorn and their was drath vaidr and robot hna solo and then their was also ash adn the pokamon and sord man and ang and zuo and airo and wulverene and spairdman and FIER PUNCH. and thay all aet roste warewulf and also ranebow dach. and potimus preme was so hapey with daimen fell that he lete him be KIGN OF CIBRETORN and wiht an armey of tarnsfromers damine fall conkered the hole yunivrese. and he livde hapiley evre aftur.

THE END!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Princess Amberlae awoke to see the firelight flickering on the rocks and boulders of the deep valley in which they were encamped. “What a strange dream!” she murmured to herself. “I wonder what it could mean?”

A voice spoke from behind her, deep and resonant. SHe could feel it vibrate in every corner of her being.

“There are many strange things that will happen in the coming weeks, princess,” said Damien Fell. She turned to him, and saw him sitting with his back to her, gazing into the valley, staring at the waterfall. His greatsword Stormshadow was laid on his knees, and he was sharpening with a whetstone.

“What do you mean?” asked Amberlae. She wanted to stand up and see his face, but it was turned from her, and their was a strange, sad tenor to his voice.

“I fear that the death of Lord Hateshadowe was merely the beginning of our troubles,” Damien fell said darkly. “I worry that forever Chaos will fall over the kingdoms of Evershyria, unless I succeed.” And his voice was sad, and weary: the voice of one who has spent long years wandering, and may neevr know rest.

“What is your worry?” asked Amberlae, and she wad filled up with a strange mixture of longing and tenderness for this dark shadowy figure who came up out of legend to rescure her.

There was a long pause, a pregnant pause, so pregnant it was already halfway through its third trimester. Finally the shadowy assassin said, “There is an ancient prophecy… a prophecy of the merging of Lyghte and Shadouwe, of the birth of a child who walks in both the darkness and lyghte, who will unite the cosmos and bring balance to this deadly and choatic universe forever……..”

“Is tha tnot you, assassin? asked Amberlae. “Because I heard a legend that said that you were born of an angelic warrior and a succubus. That you were raised in Hell, and that you were expelled from the infernal realms at the age of twelve, forced to make your life in the mortal realm.”

“That story is true,” said Damien Fell in what was barely a rasping whispre. And Amberlae felt a chill run through the core of her being as she understood that she spoke with a man who had lived in Hell.

“But… aren’t you the fullfillment of that prophecy, then?” asked Amberlae.

“I am not,” said Damien Fell. “For that prophecy states that the child must be born a mortal. I am immortal. I cannot die.” He hung his head, sadly. “That is both my blessing and my bane.”

Amberlae rose from her sleepingbag and came to Damien Fell, putting one arm around him. She was surprised to see tears running down his scarred, tanned cheeks— but his tears were not salt water, but blood.

“What was it like?” asked Amberlae. “In hell.”

Damien Fell shook his head. “It was warm,” he said. “And it stunck. There was always fire, and lava, and everywhere the smell of brimstone.” He turned to her, and she felt that strange thrilling deep within her womb as she gazed into his beautiful obsidien-black eyes.

“I came into this world, five hundred years ago, in the depths of winter,” he said. “I’d never felt so cold. I wanted to go home, back to my mother, back to my friends. I was all alone.” And he gazed deep into Amberlae’s eyes. She felt hypnotized by the assassin’s gaze, and she could do nothing but state into his infinitely deep eyes

“But the mortal realm has its benifits,” he said, and all his attention was focused on her.

She felt drawn into Damien Fel’’s eyes, and felt herself being pulled closer and closer to him, as if drawn by a magnet. She felt his breath against her skin, and closed her eyes, wanting to feel his sweet lips against hers…

But no kiss came.

“Come,” said damien Fell. “We must go. I’ve wasted enough time here in this valley.”

“Where are we going?” asked Princess Amberlae.

Damien sheathed his sword. “To the Womb of Shadow and Light.”


A blonde-haired man astride a supple white stallion rode to the ruins of a mountain of ice and stone. He dismounted, and sniffed the air. “Amberlae,” he murmured. Then he examined the ground. The hoofprints of another horse– heading south, he surmised, and at quite a rapid pace.

“So they went south…” he said. Then he lifted his helmet.

“Amberlae, my love,” said Prince Travyss. “I will find you.”

And his eyes narrowed. “And I’ll kill the man who stole you from me.”


When I woke up about eleven today, I went downstairs and opened the front door to look around blinking in the blinding light of a burning star.

When I looked down, I saw that the papers that contained this week’s chapter of The Epic Legend of Damien Fell were on the doormat, weighted down with a rock. I blinked in wonder and confusion, and then looked up. Behind a nearby tree, a young man’s face peeped out: a face, that is, hidden by a gas mask…

I waved, and the face disappeared, as if startled that I had seen it.

Wow, I thought. He’s starting to go a little crazy, isn’t he?

I took the papers inside, and began to read…


The Epic Legend of Damien Fell

Chapter Four: A Night of Fire and Shadows

An icy cold wind blew screaming and howling out of the frozen waistlands of the Eldorn Wastes as Damien Fell came to the Fiendfang.

The golden full moon was rising high above the shadowy blue-green ice-swept plains, casting an eery yellow pall over the ten thousand-foot high needle of green ice and black rock that was the Fiendfang. It stood out upon the snowy plains like a nose, a single razor-sharp needle that rose high up into the heavens, a lone and solitary tower that split the sky like a dagger through soft cheese. This was the most desolate place in the mortal realm. No mortals, save for the ice gnomes and the occasional northern barbarian, dared to come within five hundred miles of the Fiendfang.

Except for Damien Fell.

He rained the majestic black Daenovar stallion that he’d stolen back in the merchant city of Sh’kayar to a stop at a ridgeline and gazed out over the darkened plains that led up to the base of the Fiendfang. Pulling a spy glass out from his saddlebags, he looked out over fifty miles of bare ice and rock to a small point of firelight in the distance. The spyglass was traditionally used by assassins to scout out camps of enemies off in the distance, and Damien Fell was an assassin. This was a camp of enemies, and it was in the distance.

He felt he had a right to use it.

“Let’s see… I count twenty cookfires,” he muttered to himself. “Logically, hat must mean that there are five hundred people in the camp. I don’t know whether they’re all members of the Conclave of Blood, but if I have to, I’ll kill everyone in the camp to save the Princess. Nothing will stand in my way.”

Damien fell muttered, “Emeest’nacuoy,” and he was cloaked in shadows, an invisible warrior. Spurring his horse, he rode across the darkened shadowed plains, covering the fifty miles easily in an hour as he drew close to the Conclave of Blood’s camp. Finding a convenient hollow, he parked his horse, and drew his beautiful wood aelfynn longbow Forestsong out of the sheath on its back. Drawing an arrow from its quiver, he nocked it to his bow, and the arrow flew easily two hundred paces towards the watchman who looked out over the plains.

The arrow landed squarely in the chest of the watchman. His companion, a long-bearded dwarf with a beaky iron helmet, turned to look out over the plains and yelled, “Hey! Is there somebody out there?”

That was when the arrow exploded.

Damien Fell smiled. It was a long-kept secret of the assassins that you could make exploding arrows by combining a flame arrow with a gunpowder bomb. The watchman’s corpse was blown to bits by the shock of the explosion, and his companion was first showered with blood and entrails by the explosion, then killed by the shockwave.

The noise attracted everyone in the camp, and they all came running out to the front to see what had happened.

So Damien Fell snuck around the back entrance of the camp and went in that way.

Coming past one of the main cookfires, Fell noticed a large, ornate tent with lots of silk and majestic flaps embroidered with dragons and other suchlike things. “That must be Hateshadowe’s tent,” mutted the assassin. “I’d guess that that is where the Princess is being held prisoner.

He went into the tent, and found that, yes, someone was being held prisoner in there. But unfortunately it wasn’t the princess. It was a woman, yes, and a beautiful woman, but unfortunately she didn’t have quite the innocent goddess-like radiance of the Princess Amberella. She was held to the ground by tendrils of shadow, and seemed to be asleep;

As soon as Damien Fell entered the tent, her eyes opened alertly and she glanced around the tent wildly. “Who’s there?” she exclaimed. “I know that you’re there. I smell manflesh.”

She stared directly at the spot where Fell stood. “Wait a minute……. I’ve smelled you before. You’re the one who was in the tavern, weren’t you? The one who chased me through Kar’ae’thaluun! The one who brought that jewel to Blackthorne!”

Damien’s eyes widened. “You’re the woman in black!” he cried.

“I know that voice,” said the woman. “Show yourself, now.”

Emeesuoywon,” incanted Damien Fell, and he faded into existence, showing himself in his visible form.

Then he glared at the woman in black, placing his hand on the hilt of his broadsword Stormshadow. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you,” he snarled menacingly. “You’re a member of the Conclave of Blood. You deserve death.”

The woman in black smirked. “I’m no cultist, warrior. I’m an assassin, a member of the Shadow Syndicate. I commit criminal acts for hire.”

Damien Fell nodded. The Shadow Syndicate was a more recent guild imported to the continent from the Western land of Ixtept’laan—- not quite like the fabled Assassin School that dominated the continent’s murder-for-hire business, but similar, and fresh.  “Ah. I’m in that line of work myself, although I’m a freelancer at the moment.”

“A rogue assassin?” said the woman in black, her full rubescent lips quirking into a smile.

“I’d assume all assassins were rogues of some sort.”

The woman in black grinned. “True. As you can see, I’ve been imprisoned here by Lord Hateshadowe. I was hired to kill the traitor Drako Blackthorne by Lord Hateshadowe. He was certain that Blackthorne would betray him at one point. I came back here to claim my reward, but alas, Lord Hateshadowe betrayed me. I told him to give me my payment. He entrapped me here in his tent.”

“How are you called, woman?”

“My name is Shaira. And you, man?”

“Damien Fell. You might have heard of me.”

The smile fell from Shaira’s face, and her eyebrows arched into two perfect semicircles. “You….. I thought you were legend.”

“I am legend,” said Damien Fell. “That doesn’t mean that I’m not real.”

“What are you here for? Were you sent to kill someone?”

“No. I’m here to rescue the Princess Amberella.”

“You are? You don’t often see assassins going on rescue missions. Were you hired by that tiresome King Estuvi?”

“No. I’m working………. for my own purposes.”

“In that case, I propose a good old-fashioned teamup, Fell,” said Sharia. “If you free me that is.”

“Why should I do that?” questioned Fell.

“You want to rescue the princess. I want to murder that ugly sack of slime Hateshadowe. The two goals aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“I see your point.”

“And besides, two deadly assassins on a team can do alot more than one working alone.”

“Hmm….. will you kill me once I let you free?”

“Ive already shown that I can’t do that. The last time we fought, you nearly bested me. I had to escape using Magyck, and that’s the only reason I survived.”

“Swear to me that you wont try to murder me.”

Shaira sighed. “Fine. I swear it by the moon, evermoving, ever changing, that watches over us that go by night. I sware it by Golgatthu, god of death, the first of our proffesion and the grandfather of all assassins. I swear it by my blood, may it never be spilled, and by my dagger, may it never be blunt. I swear it in the name of all those who walk in shadow that I, Shaira of the Shadow Syndicate, will not try to murder you, Damien Fell, once you free me.”

Damien Fell’s rugged, handsom, be-stubbled face broke into a faint smile. “That brings me back,” he said. “I have’nt heard the Oath of Shadow in a long time.”

“How long have you been away from any Guild?” asked Shaira.

“More than I care to remember”, said Daimen, and he drew his long, sharp broadsword Stormshadow, and with one sweeping, precise cut, severed the tentacles that held Shaira to the floor of the tent.

The tentacles melted into the ground with a quiet hisssssss like the air being let out of a tire, and left nothing behind but a puddle of inky-black muck.

“That was impressive,” said Shaira, smiling. “That cut was perfect—– theres not a scratch on me.”

“Like I said,” grunted Fell, sheatheing Stormshadow. “I didn’t become legendary for no reason.”

“Well, if you can fight like you cut, then I’d be glad to have you at my side,” Shaira said.

“Don’t worry. I can.”

“Good.” And Shaira drew her long, elegant aelfynn chain. “Because there’s murder on the menu tonight, and I’m the waitress.”


Princess Amberella’s beautiful blue-green eyes fluttered open. As she awakened from her slumber, she gazed out over a vast stone circle, its black stone trilithons covered in mysterious dark stains that were the color of rust. She struggled, and tried to get away, but she was tied to a stone alter covered in similar dark stains. The black spike of the Fiendfang rose high up into the heavens, and the moon was reaching its zenith.

Looking down at herself, Amberella noticed that she was wearing a shear white silk shift, with a swooping neckline that allowed easy access to her heart. Her beautiful perky round breasts were magnificently dispayed, and her nipples were poking out in the chill northern wind, as erect and proud as pencil erasers.

In front of her, in the golden moonlight, there were about five hundred or so people, each of them wearing a black robe.

Lord Hateshadowe came up to her, and smiled. His robes were the red of fresh blood, matching his horrifying albino-red eyes.

“Let me go!!!!” cried Amberella bravely. “I am a Princess of the Human Kingdoms, and I will not stand to be sacrificed like this!!!!!”

Lord Hateshadowe grinned evilly, and stroked her arousedly under her chin, sending ripples of revulsion down her spine.

“Ah, but you are more than just that, aren’t you?” he said. “Not only are you a Princess, and the most beautiful woman ever to walk the earth, but you are the Maiden of Lyghte. You are the embodiment of Good on the physical plain, and as the Maiden of Lyghte, you are the cosmic cork that keeps the evil spirits of Chaos in their bottle.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” exclaimed Amberella, but of course somehow deep within her she did; her dreams that she’d had in her sleep, so terrifying and erotic, had somehow signaled to her that she was a child of Destiny, and that she was no mere half-aelf princess, but instead was a being with fundamental cosmic power equivilant to that of a Goddess………………………………………………………………………..

Lord Hateshadowe’s black-nailed hand moved lower, and stroked her firm, beautiful young breasts. She squirmed and tossed her hair to try and get away, but to no avail: Lord Hateshadowe was molesting her, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

“I assure you that you do,” mused the albino, and his long black claws tweaked her erect nipple. “I have to say……. I am sorry to see such beauty leave the world, of course, but I intend to bring about the End of All Time, and then I will rule………….”

He turned to the assembled cultists who were gathered all around the stone circle.

“My brothers and sisters!” he cried, and his voice echoed around the Fiendfang with no amplification whatsoever. “Tonight, with the sacrifice of the Maiden of Lyghte, the Conclave of Blood achieves its goal!!!!!! Tonight, with the virgin blood of this girl of immaculate beauty and purity, HELL SHALL COME TO EARTH!!!!!!!!!!!”

The crowd of assembled cultists roared their approval.

“No longer will there be Lyghte and Shadouwe to oppose us!” cried Lord Hateshadowe. “Tonight, we bring Darkness…………. and FIRE.

He raised his obsidian dagger on high, and the golden full moon gleamed on its obsidian length.

The point was posied directly above the Princess’s exposed cleavage, and then directly to her heart………

Amberella squirmed one final time, as if trying to get away………………

An almost orgasmic look of pleasure spread over Lord Hateshadowe’s face……………………………

STOP!!!!!!!!!” shouted a tremendously-loud voice. A woman’s voice.

A woman dressed all in black strode across the stone circle. She was swathed from head to toe in soft black fabric, and carried a long chain in her right hand, which she twirled causally, as if she was preparing to smack Lord Hateshadowe across the face with it.

“Before you end the universe, Hateshadowe, I’d like it if you paid your debts,” said the woman in black. “After all, if there’s no universe left, who are you going to pay your debts to?”

Lord Hateshadowe’s shadowed face contourted with hate. “YOU!!!! he exclaimed. How in the names of the Nine Infernal Dimensions did you escape from my trap??????”

“Don’t play games, Hateshadowe, said the woman. “You should know this—- the Shadow Syndicate always comes back to collect its debts.”

“I don’t believe, this,” said Lord Hateshadowe, and he laughed dramatically. “Do you seriously believe that you can threaten me? You, with your pitiful chain, and your sad little Shadouwe Magycks?”

“No,” replied the woman in black. “But I CAN distracting you enough so that my friend can sneak behind you.”

Lord Hateshadowe’s blood-red eyes widened, and he wheeled just in time to see a majestic cloaked figure pull a pistol and shoot him straight through the head.

The Princess of Karass Mor gazed up at this man. Tanned and rugged, with a strong jaw covered in black stubble, he bore a long sword and wore a bow across his back. His arms were muscular and not at all scrawny, and his chest was as wide as a horse. Long, flowing raven hair spilled out behind his head, and his eyes were as dark as black holes, and they seemed to shine with their own unholy light.

Amberella gasped. She had never seen someone like this man. Was he one of her father’s knights…..? If so, why had she never seen him before? She certainly would have noticed him………..

The man gazed down at her, and when his dark, endlessly-beautiful eyes locked onto hers, she could feel her loins throb. Her nipples erected themselves even more, but not from cold this time, but from dark and erotic passion.

She wanted to wrap her legs around this man’s waist, to feel him deep within her. Though the idea of losing her virginity and purity frightened her, she wanted to feel this man’s seed deep within her belly, to feel her womb quicken and grow heavy with his child……………..

She was so lost in thought, in fact, that she didn’t notice Lord Hateshadowe standing up.

A perfectly round bullet hole, oozing pinkish-red blood, leaked in the center of his forehead.

He spread his lips wide, and he smiled.

“So, we meet again, Damien Fell,” said Lord Hateshadowe, and he smiled. “I remember how you thwarted my plans in Gol Xurath, ten years ago. Do you remember?”

“I remember,” said Damien Fell, and when those two short words dropped like ripe fruit from his lips, Princess Amberella felt a surge of erotic pleasure pass through her body, followed by a sudden dread.

It…… it cannot be……! she thought. This man, this beautiful, dangerous warrior, was Damien Fell?

In the Human Lands, Damien Fell was legend, like he was everywhere else. But he was no hero there, but a villain. An assassin, a warrior, a slayer of kings…… cursed spawn of an angelic general and a beautiful Hellish succubus, raised in Hell by his foster grandfather, the legendary Demon Knight Alaxuulaas, and escaped to the mortal realm when he was a boy. He was the slayer of a hundred kings, despoiler of a thousand women, master of Darke Magyckes too terrible for the human mind to comprehend, the bane of gods and the spawn of devils……… this was the man her father sent to rescue her???????

Or else……..

…….no, it was too horrible to comprehend………

………..or else he wanted her, once he killed Lord Hateshadowe.

The cultists in the Conclave of Blood were getting restless. They were drawing weapons and readying spells, prepared to come to their master’s defense.

The woman in black twirled the chain around her menacingly. “Don’t worry!” she exclaimed. “I’ll hold them off! You just kill Lord Hateshadowe!”

“Ah, but you can’t kill me, Damien Fell,” said Lord Hateshadowe. “I am the master of death. You cannot stop me. I’ll just keep coming.”

“I know how to kill you,” Fell said. “Your’re a Death Aelf. I’ve killed Death Aelves before.” And he drew his long, shining sword………

“You just have to cut off their heads.”

And he swung the sword, in a sudden gleaming arc towards Lord Hateshadoe’s neck………………………………………….

Faster than Amberella could blink, a flaming sword appeared in Lord Hateshadowe’s hand, and he parried the blow with a spray of sudden sparks. The sound of sword clashing against sword echoed out across the stone circle as the two clashed, gods of Shadouwe and Darkness, beings that moved with the skill and power of twin demons.

Below Amberella’s feet, the woman in black fought against the cultists, blocking their sword blowes with her chain, matching them spell for spell. Soon a pile of dead bodies was piled up all around the woman, but Amberella didn’t notice. She just stared up at Damien Fell and Lord Hateshadowe’s fight, her body thrilling with erotic tingles and horrific dread.

Lord Hateshadowe cast spell after spell, but Damien Fell blocked them again and again with his sword, in some cases using it like a baseball bat to send the spells rickochaying back at Hateshadowe. The battle raged on and on, and it seemed more and more like Hateshadowe was going to win——-

—–but then, all of a sudden, the Death Aelf stepped wrong, and Damien Fell landed a blow on his neck, severing it.

A massive fountain of pinkish-red blood sprayed from Hateshadowe’s stump of a neck, and Hateshadowe’s still-grinning head went flying over the cultists………..

Then Damien Fell did a sweeping cut towards Amberella.

She screamed…..

…….but then her bonds were loosened, and Amberella was free.

She stood up, dizzy, her legs all pins-and-needles from disuse.

But then Damien Fell picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?!?!?!?!?” shouted Amberella. “Put me DOWN!!!!!

Damien Fell whisteled, and a majestic black horse came running. Damien threw Amberella over the horse’s ass, and jumped on.

“We have to get out of here!” cried Damien Fell. “Hateshadowe’s corpse will explode at any minute!”

What???” cried Amberella.

“You heard me! Death Aelves store evil in their body like a battery. It releases when they die. With a particularly nasty Death Aelf like Hateshadowe there, the explosion can create valleys! We have to leave!”

“Then let’s go!” cried Amberella.

“Not yet!” And he turned to the woman in black. “Shaira! Can you get out of here?”

“Already done,” said the woman in black, and with a puff of smoke, she vanished.

Damien Fell spurred his black horse forward, and as Amberella watched in the distance as the stone circle receaded behind them at a rate of sixty miles an hour, she saw a sudden flash of light as the dawn rose over the mountains……..

………..and Lord Hateshadowe’s body exploded.

There was a blast of black fire that shook the heavens.

The shock of the blast destroyed the Fiendfang, and the tall black needle of ice crumbled into dust as Amberella watched, ten thousand feet of ice and stone falling into nothing, just a cloud of rubble where the mountain had been.

It was awesome.