Part of a future story. .-. Maybe, maybe not. Meh. Probably not. --- Charon's boat sat unmoving. The methodical chiming of his stopwatch began to unnerve him. Every second the clock ticks, Charon is not there. The Timekeeper sighed; Charon was always out with his friends. He had no intention of doing his job. "Is Charon here, mister?" A petite girl, around the height of 5"4, stared down at the river of Styx in terror. She had come from the entrance, a piece of her dress that she was clucthing had been torn off by Cerberus. Other than that, she had no scratches or bruises. Maybe the dog had taken a liking to her... It hadn't happened before. He wondered why a soul like her would end up in Hell. Perhaps the gods denied her entrance to Mercia? "I'm sorry, no. You'll have to wait." The impatience in his voice intimidated the timid girl. She seemed to shrank in size as he snapped at her. Knowing what he had done, the Timekeeper regained his composture and cleared his throat. "Maybe you should just—" He stopped. Suddenly realizing his mistake. She didn't need him to yap at her again. Taking a deep breath, the Timekeeper drummed his fingers onto the desk, seething with rage. This was why he wasn't qualified for the job. Confused to what she was to do, the girl sat on the ground. Her raven dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, as she looked up at him in curiosity. The Timekeeper looked at her with a bored expression. 'She looks like a pet...' "... What's your name?" "Korra." Nodding his head, he shrank in his seat. Korra regarded him with a deep interest, scrutinizing his face for any signs of emotion. He had none. "What about yours, Mister?" 'I don't have one.' Opening his mouth to tell her, he decided against it. After all, she had been obedient the past few minutes. "... Dimitri," he coughed out the lie hesitantly. Korra smiled, the ends of her lips were instantly tugged upwards to form a smile. 'She has a beautiful smile.' "When do you think Charon will come, Mister Dimitri?" "I honestly do not know." The small pocketwatch he held was ticking again. Bored, and curious as how she ended up here, he asked, "How did you turn up here anyway?" "Oh. I think the healers said it was a plague or something... The oracle decided it was best to send me here!" "..." 'Damn priest.' As the words left her lips, Charon showed up, half naked and obviously drunk. His dark brown hair was unkempt, along with the rest of his appearance. Holding a jug of wine in his left hand, he used the walls for support with the other. Oblivious to his surroundings, Charon marched up to the Timekeeper and breathed into his face. The pungent smell of wine infiltrated his nostrills, causing him to gag. What the hell did the nymphs do to his wine?! "I w-want PAY." "Mister Charon?" Korra, who had risen from the ground, walked over and tugged on Charon's robe. The drunk man turned to Korra and smiled. "HEYYYY, LITTLE GIRL..." "You idiot. She's one of your passengers. Take her to Hades before I smash the wine bottle and cause you to regret ever being born. Better yet, I CAN cause you to die inside your mother's stomach." Frightened by his threat, Charon stepped back and fell into the river. "Mister Charon...?" "Hop onto... the b-boat, misssyyy..." The red liquid was filling the river Styx. Mistaking it for blood, Korra screamed and ran over to the Timekeeper, pulling him close. Surprised by her sudden act, he pet her head awkwardly. "Mister Dimitri... Is he dead?" "... N-no..." 'It's been around 500 years since I've been touched...' "O-okay." Unlatching herself from him, she slowly walked over to the river and looked down at what was Charon's unconscious body, floating in the river of Styx. "... Sigh... I guess I'll have to take you there myself." --- :3
The Ring of Power As told by the ancients, the ring of power is a valuable item, yet very powerful. It is said to have the phrase, in a language we know as ancient Ameran, the letters and script are fading but it is clear, "One ring to rule them all, one ring to destroy them, one ring yields the power." The ancients have found that this is the one ring: . Though many have tried to use it's power, the ring has only one master, the Lord of Lies, Deamour. No other can command the ring, yet a goblin by the name of Azamodanthoth Thulden Kulle, has tried to yield the ring's power. It is said that once the master gets it back he will be the one power in middle earth again. The writing can be seen only by fire, here is what it looks like in the language it is written in: רקוןםפלךףתץכעיןםפלךףδγφξκλμνβωψיחלךףβγήκαμε ηξοππκλ σφαγή οπ´ιλπκμ ωμή ηθική ניחכעײַחללךךצתץף סבך גנני ψγδφηξξξκ βρήκε Νάξο געגוע φύγετε ηξοππκλ βαν ζσχδτ יידויי לכף מדמם ידי מגן ממכם מגמד מגם צמצם חמם מגמגם מגגממגמגמגמגמגממגמגמגממגלגםאםאם צגצגצצצגצגצגצצלךף מין ץ. Ло меяе human Can read this languge. Only a few have tried, none succeeded. Thus the ring of power has moved from one to the next, seeking its true master, Lord of Lies. The world will know its end if this creature, obtains his one ring again. We the ancients, must send our very best to stop him at all costs. Thus the story of the ring of power is written, thus it has ended, thus we must continue to write in the language that has been forgotten. Know that one day, the ring will return, it has been forseen. We must at all costs be prepared, even if it means certain death.