User:Shades

ASCII Art Rewards

29 October 2007

 @@+,@\D/.+@

 Fire seared the sky as the dragon circled, driven by madness and the
 promise of gold held deep within the dwarven tunnels.  Standing on the
 battlements of the stone façade built over the entrance to the
 fortress, Danrik the marksdwarf took aim at the evil target, his heart
 thumping slow and steady.  He waited two more beats and pulled the
 trigger.  An instant later a dozen marksdwarves let fly and a hail
 bolts pierced the smoky air.
 
 Most of the bolts bounced harmlessly away, but Danrik's well-aimed
 missile found the monsters skull, shattering the brain.  The dwarves
 cheered as the beast fell from the sky.  The smile fell from Danrik's
 face as the great corpse fell closer -- it was coming right at them!
 Dwarves climbed over each other, making for the stairs.  Other risked
 jumping from the wall, breaking their arms and legs as they landed.
 Danrik stood fast.
 
 As the dead dragon slammed into the fortress's stone wall the dwarves
 were flung into the air.  As Danrik flew, he damned the dragon with
 all his might, his foul words ripped away by the wind.  With a sudden
 crash, all went dark.

24 July 2008

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 "He's awoken," came the cry.  "He has awoken!"
 
 Pain came as Danrik opened his eyes.  A crowd of gaudily-dressed
 dwarves danced and sang in celebration of their hero.  It had been a
 week since Danrik had fallen.  His comrades slapped him on the
 shoulders.  One brought him a chalice of wine.  The dragon was dead.
 Every day since had been a celebration, but with the awakening of
 Danrik, the party had really begun.
 
 The mighty warrior made his way out of the bedroom, supported by two
 lusty dwarf women.  The masons were hard at work restoring the wall
 that the dead dragon had crashed through.  The dwarf led Danrik to the
 courtyard.
 
 "Speech!" cried the dwarves, "Speech!"
 
 "Oh," said Danrik, "Well…"
 
 A dark shape appeared in the gap between the walls, large and
 menacing.  The dwarves grew silent as it cast its glowing red eyes on
 the dwarf hero.
 
 "Yes," said the creature, "tell us how you slew the dragon, mighty
 dwarf, how you saved the day!"

5 December 2009

 +@/+@@@+@@@@@@@

 Dwarf hero Danrik called for his battleaxe.  A dwarven squire ran to
 him and put the weapon in his hand.  The dwarf held the weapon high,
 but collapsed, steadying himself on the hilt.  The demon laughed.  It
 had congealed into the form of a man wearing a dark cloak, horns upon
 his head, a nightmare lord of the underworld.
 
 “If this is the best you can you can do, you have clearly lost,” said
 the demon lord.  “You will bring me one maiden every season.”
 
 The nightmare lord looked over the cowering dwarves.  He pointed at
 the gasping form of Danrik.  “Start with that one’s sister.”
 
 Danrik watched helplessly as Andra, his lovely sister, was brought to
 the demon’s side.  The creature put its hand on her shoulder and the
 pair disappeared in a burst of blue flame.  Danrik howled with rage.
 A squire ran up to him and bowed his head.  “We will find Lady Andra,”
 said the boy.  “You can count on it.”
 
 “What is your name, youngster?” asked Danrik.
 
 “I am called Blackbeard,” said the boy.
 
 “A strong name for such a small body,” said the hero.  “You can begin
 the quest by fetching a dragon tooth from the ruins of the wall.  From
 it we will forge a mighty shank to drive into the heart of the demon
 lord.”
 
 The squire smiled and bounded away into the rubble.  It was the
 beginning of a hard recovery.  While the smiths worked in the forge to
 create the ultimate knife, Blackbeard trained the hero to walk again.
 When Danrik was able to put his fist through solid rock walls, they
 knew they were ready.  Danrik put the dragon dagger Gotter through his
 belt and stepped before the crowd.
 
 “I go now to rescue Lady Andra from the pit,” said Danrik.  “The road
 will be long and hard, to the fiery heart of the mountain and beyond,
 to the land of the dead.  Who is with me?”
 
 Blackbeard jumped up and down, raising his hand above the shoulders of
 those around him.  Though it looked grim, a few brave adventurers step
 forward.  It was not a question of whether they would reach the
 underworld, for they must reach it.  They must reach Andra, and slay
 her captors, for all great tales end this way.

25 December 2010

 kkk""",.@P@,P.,""kkk"k

 It is said that every great journey begins with a festival of
 drinking, but Danrik wasn’t in the mood.  All he could think of was
 that evil spirit with his sister and his soul burned with rage.  As
 the others celebrated their bravery, Danrik strolled up the trail
 toward Blood Mountain, kicking dirt clods as he went.
 
 “You weren’t thinking of leaving without me were you?”  It was Blackbeard.
 
 “Of course not,” said Danrik, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
 “Let those fools drink themselves silly.  We have a fair maiden to
 save.”
 
 Together, the two adventuring dwarves mounted their ponies and trotted
 off into the darkness.  After a time the fires of the fortress
 disappeared behind the rolling wooded hills.  It was not long before
 they left the land of the dwarves and entered into the depths of
 Haunted Forest.  No one knew what kinds of wicked spirits dwelt there
 for few ever returned alive.
 
 “Why must we enter this dark place?” asked Blackbeard.
 
 “Blood Mountain lies on the other side of this forest,” said Danrik,
 “and nothing will stand between me and Andra.  We rest here.”
 
 “Here?” asked Blackbeard.  “Surely you could have picked a less creepy place.”
 
 It was true.  Danrik had picked a dreadful place to camp.  Everywhere
 the night birds, eyes of the enemy, were watching them.  The very
 trees seemed to reach out to grab them.  Worst of all, they had laid
 their camp on a kobold burrow.  Silently the creatures crawled from
 their holes, armed with bone knives, ready to cut the heart out of any
 poor fool.
 
 “Did you hear that?” said Blackbeard.

05 February 2012=

 ~@//////+@/&@+\\\\\\\

 Andra cried out as the grubby little goblin whipped her again.  She
 was locked in some sort of dungeon.  She couldn’t tell where for the
 strange rough-hewn black rock was unknown to her.  She pulled at her
 chains again.  One of them was loose.  Let me at that horned villain,
 thought Andra, but this one will die first.
 
 “Tell us, sister Andra,” said the goblin.  “Does it hurt?”
 
 The links of the chain exploded as the dwarf woman yanked with all her
 might.  The broken chain slapped the goblin upside the head, killing
 it instantly.  She undid her other hand and stole the goblin’s keys,
 escaping the dungeon, chain still attached.
 
 The view outside was terrifying.  Pillars of fire rose up from lakes
 of burning magma.  Andra found herself standing on the narrow ledge of
 a black pyramid at the center of the world.  It seemed that she could
 never escape this perfect prison.
 
 Pulling the chain tight, the solution was obvious.  She would find the
 horned king and force him to take her back.  Then she began to climb.
 The top was further than it looked.  It seemed she had been climbing
 for days, maybe for weeks.  Then she made the crest.
 
 The scene was ridiculous, for there was Danrik holding a shank to the
 demon lord’s belly while another dwarf was grappling him by the horns.
 
 “I swear,” whined the demon.  “I don’t know where she is!  She must
 have escaped!”
 
 “Danrik!” cried Andra.
 
 Danrik lost his concentration for a second and the demon slapped
 Gotter out of the dwarf hero’s hand.  Blackbeard nearly flew over the
 side of the pyramid as the demon bucked him off.  The creature ducked
 just in time to save its life as Andra whipped the chain over its
 head.
 
 “The knife!” cried Danrik.  “It’s the only way to kill it!”