REM Samples

|| These aren't RPs, just writing samples. ||

The wanderer had been travelling for months to reach the icy North, like many other pursuing gold in long forgotten tombs and treasuries left by a bygone era. The bitter cold gnawed at the bits of skin that were exposed in his movement, leaning forward against the billowing wind, every little sting he felt sapping his energy. He had heard from the last village he had passed that he was getting close to the nearest grotto that was rumored to be nearby, but he was warned against going. He scoffed at these warnings, every time he had done something like this, there was always villagers spouting rumors that usually turned out to be untrue, or at least a stretch of the reality. This would be no different.

His musings were shaken out of his mind when the very earth around him seemed to tremble, he could see the nearby mountain snow dislodging and rushing down in response to the quake, and he was left to wonder what had rumbled through the tundra. He got his answer soon enough as his vision was encompassed by a hill of white, that became gray soon after, with two light blue eyes the size of his head glaring back at him. In awe, and fear, he examined the face glaring back at him, with a beard carrying enough woolly hair to bury a herd of sheep, yellowed teeth the size of bread slices, and it finally struck him. The traveler had come face to face with a Frost Giant, and it did not appear to be happy with his presence upon the ancestral grounds.

---

War had been raging on for years, rival nations with conflicting ideologies finally coming to blows after several frustrating month of peace talks. It seemed like it was never going to end, two battles cropping up whenever one was quelled. He had just been a farmer not a year ago, tending to his cattle and putting food on the table, a man who had answered his call to fight like a true patriot. Upon seeing the carnage, however, the sound of steel upon steel, steel upon flesh and bone, all blending together in a cacophony of blood and hatred. How did it come to this, he wondered? How did men, who were made from the same gods as everybody else, become filled with such murderous revulsion for one another? Alas the soldier was not left to think about it too much, as his regiment was preparing for a second charge with their pikes.

A particular red ominous glow on the horizon caught his eye however, and there he saw it, over two dozen men clad in purple robes lined up behind their armored comrades on the enemy side. One by one, each of them summoned a ball of fire between their upraised hands, and he heard the order from his commander in the back line to defend. When the soldier and his allies prepared themselves for the barrage, the fireballs were released, rising high up into the sky before falling upon them. The first few fireballs exploding upon their shields were no issue, it was the dozens after that started to wear down defenses, and before long the enemy mages seemed to start putting more effort into their cursed magic. As the shield wall they had created was worn down, the soldier hiding behind the shield could only hear the screams of his immolated friends, the sickening smell of their charred flesh, and the thunder of the spells hitting. His ears ringing, corners of his vision darkening, the last sight he could remember was the bright ball of orange flying right for him.