Curse

Enigmatics · Sep 27, 2005, 02:08 AM // 02:08

Who is Enigmatics to the literary world? No one; I'm a mediocre angst writer that dabbles in various forms of it. My crap spews all over the place, and my use of old-person vocabulary tends to earn me minimal acclaim over the fanfiction sites. However, in my defence, I'm younger than those superficial writers (fanfiction sites call them "Mary Sues") with all the "english class in mind when writing" stuff going on. Not that I disrespect Language Arts; taking it and everything. Okay, then, this is my first fanfic for guildwars. I do tend to use big words that sometimes disguise my message, but try to salvage the overall tone.
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The fourth and last, he realizes, is the final fascination, detached and morbid, as eyes being pushed into their sockets meet the earth that is rising so indiscriminately, bringing with it bruising clarity and the promise of eternity.

The third are a myriad of feelings: panic, and denial, and the freezing sensation of wind whipping past the now goose-fleshed skin. Mostly just panic that overrides endorphins. After all, whoever’s heard of a happy faller?

The second, a sight, is the kaleidoscope, because it can only be described as a kaleidoscope as gravity so lovingly (and speedily) whisks you to the ground, of the colors that surround, splotches of green and blue and brown, not-so-blurred, because there is no “selective vision” in free fall. Only a spike in senses, as the body explodes with adrenaline, and adrenaline-induced elation.

The first is the disorienting feeling of vertigo as blood suddenly seeps down from head to the rest of the body, and little pinpricks of black invade the vision –a violent and incredible head rush, that most don’t experience in their lifetimes.

He imagines that he’s felt something similar before, but not in life.

Only the ground never hits, it’s been ethereal this entire time, instead, he continues to fall. He continues his descent, and eventually the demons greet him with grinning teeth, and flashing eyes. Morello is home.

Morello’s idea of humor isn’t quite the same as others’, but he is amused at the moment. After all, who would knowingly invoke their deity with such vague directions? Somewhere in between the inscrutable rituals and sacrifices, Morello had realized that Grenth fully intended to make him go down to the underworld, instead of coming up himself. Selfish, really.

The underworld is…

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They do not prevent everyone from going through the gate, but no one may do so cheaply.
Gozu and Mezu are the stone altars on which many overly brave or curious things have been sacrificed…
Marbled over their shadowed almost-flesh they bear the long-dried blood of those who ask a boon without understanding the price.

Only the dead may pass.

They protect the gate loyally, lest the living defile that ground.
When the necromancer comes, they know there is not an altar worthy of his blood.

They bow to him, for he is Morello, first cousin of the Reaper of Frost, Steward of Hell.
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Not sure if I need this, but: Disclaimer-I do not own the characters or any aspect of, Guild Wars.

Let's clarify. I have no idea who the **** Morello is, I just heard his name in a passing, and imagined that he must have been powerful.

This is more or less about an attempt to summon his god, Grenth, gone awry. Grenth, being the terribly witty deity that he is, instead brings Morello down to him.

I didn't replicate his experience of falling accurately, as I've never read about the topic.

And sorry for posting this in multiple boards, but I'm not sure which one this type of fiction goes under.