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Life Abounds in a Desert of Death - by Elobo

Life Abounds in a Desert of Death




Even the heat-scorched sands of a Desert known as Death can harbour a thriving cradle of life. Sand Lizards and Arrow Lizards skitter up to their rocky outcrop, littered with burrows. Weary from their thirsty daily existence, they seek to retreat into their network of homes before the shattering cold of night. They are together now, secure before they challenge the overwhelming presence of the blistering sun once more in the morrow.



Other Submissions by Elobo

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Elobo Terracotta Nightmare
A treasure gleaming amongst the overwhelming drab greys of the terracotta dig. Gilded armor, an ornate warrior. A deadly grimace adorned its faceplate. It seemed possessed of life despite remaining motionless. A flash of vibrance in an army of still death. But it was not of this dig. Its inner workings were beyond the scope of ancient man. It took its time dissecting the excitable excavators. It had field research to conduct as well, after all.
11/8/09 0.00
Elobo Grinning Devil
Ousted by the stone idols of a fallen tribe, the remnants of both Agrillan tribes remained covetous of their homeland. Progress shifted towards malice, and constructs such as these were a result. Simple in design, deadly in execution. It came wearing a toothy grin on its face and carrying a belly full of fire. They were meant to be expended, but they were beyond precious – made from some of the last meager resources the tribes could pull together. They should have entangled the idols with chain, hook, and magnetic clasp. But they were changed by the spiritual discord of the land, became autonomous. and the homeland slipped farther from the people’s grasp.
11/9/09 0.00
Elobo Perpetual Pariah
Explorers in the Agrilla Pass are often beset by a strange creature of palpable self-loathing. The oral tradition of Agrillan survivor descendants mentions a creature composed of the negative energies the civil war and slaughter left deep-rooted in the land. A creature of anger was born as spirits who could not find a host, and were bound eternal to that cursed place, coalesced at one point. At first it was furious that it could not leave the Pass to fulfill its desires. Then, the contrasting points of sorrow of the many that made the whole caused self-doubt withi the creature. The more it tried to leave, the more impotent it felt. It felt more and more helpless, more and more anguish. Years of isolation made it a wreck of pure emotion. An empath feeding of the negativity of others, welcoming all pain they bring. It is irreproachably twisted into feeling pathetic and it is cursed to remain that way forever. Even though it accepts defeat, the pull of the land is too strong – it comes back. But the words is speaks… are these its own or is it reflecting your innermost sorrow and fear? Is it merely giving your most crushing emotions form?
11/11/09 0.00
Elobo Conquering the Heavens
They held sway over nature and thus over our lives. The sacred land Dalaam was sealed behind a wall of rock, mortals were not allowed to enter. We were trapped, with an increasingly dwindling ration of rain to get us by. Our provinces grew desperate, feudal war erupted across the land. We were trying to appease the two gods that tormented us so, at any cost, to become their sole favour. When they commissioned their garments, staff, and blade, one man instead stole away into the night with them. Armed only with his own conviction and introspection, he arrived at the gate and fought his way through the demon hordes. The gods raged, the world shook. They came down to the surface to punish him, but he did not fight. With a mystic key, disguised as a carrot to appear unspectacular, an imprisoning spell was released, binding them to the planet and trapping their rage. His staff soaked in the power of the heavens, which he would refine and use as the Star Master. Thunder and Storm were quelled, though they can be still felt whenever their bouts of rage peak.
11/23/09 0.00
Elobo My Mindless Friend
My life… my everything… it used to be at the bottom of the bottle. We were not scientists, we were assembly line workers. It didn’t matter how useful our abominations were, as long as they were present. So I found solace in a melange of liquors hard and brutal. As I pulled my blood soaked arms out of its gaping cranium, my heart was heavy. The brain was wired, the switch was flipped. It stared at me, blankly, for nearly five minutes. Then it smiled, and hung on my every word with unflinching adoration. Was this unconditional love? No, there was a dire condition: lobotomization. But I needed something to grab hold of to haul myself out of the pit of this despair. This seems to be working. Hmm, I’ll feel terrible about him down the road? You know what? Whatever.
11/28/09 8.00

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