Here is the repository of the story of the Fall of Emea. This forum contains all posts from "The Maze" and "Crack in the Wall" - the two events which led to the Fall.
Always dark and always cold. And, inevitably, the room was bare.
It was The Prison, and more than that. It was every prison they had ever seen, every dream of being trapped or alone or afraid. It was each nightmare given form. As the Prisoner woke up, they realised that this was where they were. Here. Nowhere else. Never, again, would they be anywhere else because never again would they see outside of The Prison.
There were no doors.
There were no windows.
There was just them and every insecurity they had ever had. Each fear and self doubt given form and played out constantly.
This wasn't prison.
This was Hell.
Objectives
Well, now, you folks are in a pickle. Welcome to The Prison.
!
Message from: MUST DO OBJECTIVES
Consider this a prison of your PCs own making - their worst fears, greatest insecurities and truest doubts play out here. Please describe what your PC is seeing, and how they react. Go for broke on the room / environment. It fits to match. You are alone, even if you came from the same place. To be clear. There is a way to escape. It is possible that you will hit upon it purposely, or randomly. I'll let you know if you do. But to be clear, from your PCs point of view, this is absolutely real.
!
Message from: CAN DO OBJECTIVES
There are 4 hidden objectives here. I'll let you know if you meet them.
Dates & Deadlines
You need to post here by Monday 18th March. If you have not done so, you've missed the round. I will be locking the thread at that time.
I will post on Tuesday 19th March.
The Lotharro in teddy form was lost to the nightmarish ebb and flow of the prison. The line of his flokke, his animals could be glimpsed past his own death. A death that would repeat on and on until no flesh was left to be reincarnated.
The line twisted and corrupted with time, birthing monstrosities that gorged on their own. He could see their lineage, like twin helixes curling and connecting each other, breaking at several points and replacing the most minor of beneficial traits with attributes that contributed to their monstrousness.
In the end, the teddy was confronted with the ultimate form of these corruptions. A formless pig-like god being, larger and wider than any elephant. The only semblance it retained of its lineage was superficial. A giant pig’s head with mostly maw and twisted tooth and tongues. A spirit born from hunger, lust, and violence. All of them mingling at once.
Rakvald could see the creature growing beyond it’s bounds, metastasizing. Offspring carved from its own flesh giving birth to new horrors.
The teddy ran from all of these things, until they threatened to devour the fibers it was woven from. The fetid wind hit its face, it ran through the ashen corridors that burned with heat, singing its fur and causing the oinkstrosities behind him to grunt in pain. Yet their pace only increased with every new agony inflicted upon them.
The teddy had long since abandoned his body, and had no idea where it’d gone. It’s arms were near to coming off at the point that it pulled it into the Prison, so It had no choice but to leave the body behind. The only thing the Teddy had on him was the token he’d arrived at through to Emea, the golden bracelet in the form of a pig, with an emerald stuck in its maw.
Suddenly, as he was running along from those monstrous offpsring, he saw what looked like a tiny door, in the frame of a sphincter in a sudden patch of flesh-like wall. Without thinking, without even waiting to see what happened next, he ran through that door, opening and shutting it behind him. He held on as tightly as he could with his little plushie hands to the bracelet as he did so, not quite knowing what good it would do him without his body.
As his eyes adjusted to the new environs, he thought he saw five figures surrounding him. And… what looked like a large body getting dragged through a hat by a rabbit.
The door snapped shut behind him, and Praetorum turned in surprise, manacles clanking along his hands and feet. The 'wall' behind him was nothing but bars, and through them, he could see the backs of two soldiers, each clad in very familiar black plate. Praetorum closed his eyes, forcing down a pained laugh.
It was fitting, he supposed. His last assignment before he'd deserted had been right here; guard duty at the Imperial Prison. Only this time, he was on the inside of the cell, where he belonged. This was a long time coming; he'd spent so long thinking about this moment it was almost a relief that it was finally here.
He'd been caught by the legion.
He was going to be tried as a deserter.
He was going to be executed for murder, and for treason.
Praetorum swallowed heavily, and moved to the center of his cell, kneeling there silently. If he was to face his well deserved punishment, he would do it with dignity. It was the last thing he could do, to give his family some solace.
How long he knelt there, wordlessly waiting, he couldn't tell. What little light there was in the prison was torchlight, and he could tell almost nothing from its flickerings. His guard stood silent as well, still as statues; he only knew they were alive by the shifting of their weapons and the swishing of their tails.
Praetorum was jolted from his reverie when a door he couldn't see was thrown open, flooding the hallway with light. Praetorum blinked against it, shaking his head to clear it of spots. He could hear footsteps coming down the hallway, and set his shoulders, ready to face his fate, his only chance at redeeming himself. He was ready.
Or so he'd thought.
A gasp escaped him as the first figure came into view, and he leaned forwards, as far as he could manage while still staying on his knees. Luca, his father, turned briefly to look at him, then turned away. In his arms, he cradled Serinus, just as he had so many times when Prae and Ri were children, after a long day of hard training and playing, or when, after a bedtime story out in the garden, he would carry them inside to bed, with Ri napping in his arms and Prae yawning on his shoulders.
The spear and arrows still pierced though Ri's body shattered that illusion just as soon as Prae had thought it, and a soft wail tore itself from him, as Luca carefully set his youngest son's corpse down in the center of the cell across from Prae's.
Unlike his own, the cell across from Praetorum's was missing its bars, and had ten chairs lined up along the far wall; Serinus took the leftmost seat, and Luca the one beside him. Praetorum nearly called out, but the words froze in his throat. He'd lost all right to speak to them, to even look at them. He'd lost all right to do anything but offer his head in reparation.
More footsteps now; the man who next came into Praetorum's view, Prae had only met once before. Ottven Devuo , cradling his dead lover in his arms. He did not deign to look at Praetorum. Instead, he set Kaldwyn's body in the chair beside Luca, and cradled Kaldwyn's head in his hands as he sat as well. The next to come was a Thiussum about nine feet tall, holding two bodies—both almost identical to her, save for the gaping gashes in their throats—in her arms. Cassiopeia, the third sibling of Cassius and Cassandra's clutch. Behind her trotted Bane, Cassius's dog and most loyal companion. The three ithecal took the next three seats; Bane curled up at the foot of the fourth, staring reproachfully at Praetorum.
The last to arrive was a legionnaire, face unseen under the black helmet of the legion. In one arm, he held the body of a human, throat cut so wide he'd nearly been decapitated. In the other, he carried a girl of perhaps six, human, with Marco's grey eyes and unruly hair. Melanie Kane. Marco's only child.
The legionnaire set each of them in a seat, then disappeared down the hallway, leaving Praetorum with his victims and their family; a tribunal of the living and the dead.
One more set of footsteps, for all that there were no more chairs left to be filled. Praetorum wiped the tears that had slid, unbidden, down his cheeks, and closed his eyes in prayer. Let this be the last, he begged. Let it end.
When he opened them again, he slumped, smiling in relief. His own reflection smiled back, distorted in the gleaming head of a greataxe.
Praetorum raised his head, meeting his mother's eyes as she stood before the door of his cell. Grief, anger, disappointment; Praetorum absorbed it all in a moment, before she too, turned away to take her proper position. Standing before the jury, she raised her axe, and waited.
The door to his cell swung open.
And as it did, another door appeared beside it.
This new door was clearly out of place; it looked the sort of door that belonged on a wall, or a house, not a prison cell. Why... why...
Because he was needed elsewhere. That was right, he remembered now. No one in the world would wake up unless something was fixed, unless the apple got where it needed to go. He needed... he needed.
Stumbling to his feet, Praetorum took a step towards the open cell door, staring helplessly at his execution through it. He needed—
He deserved—
He had killed five people, five of the people who most trusted him in this world. How could he ever walk away from that sin?
But the six here, still living; Ottven, Cassiopeia, Bane, Melanie, his parents, they would all die if the quest was unfinished. If they didn't fix—
But the work would be done, with or without him. He was nothing, he was nobody, the others would fix things without him—
He didn't know that. He didn't know any of them. How could he trust that they would do what needed to be done?
Praetorum staggered towards the cell door, clutching at the bars framing the entrance. "I'm sorry." He rasped out.
Then, turning away, he opened the new, conjured door, and stepped through.
word count: 1093
Let's play 'What's Weird About Prae'
Head
A fiery rune shines under his right eye
A firey glow in the back of his mouth
Arms
A ring of blue runes floats over each of Prae's wrists
A silver shield marks the back of his right hand
A ring of light around his left forearm
Misc
His tail is about eight feet long, usually knotted around his waist
His body temperature is uncomfortably high
Surroundings
Wind gusts with every step he takes
The area around him is slightly more static-y than normal
Always dark and always cold. And, inevitably, the room was bare.
It was The Prison, and more than that. It was every prison they had ever seen, every dream of being trapped or alone or afraid. It was each nightmare given form. As the Prisoner woke up, they realised that this was where they were. Here. Nowhere else. Never, again, would they be anywhere else because never again would they see outside of The Prison.
There were no doors.
There were no windows.
There was just them and every insecurity they had ever had. Each fear and self doubt given form and played out constantly.
This wasn't prison.
This was Hell.
Objectives
Well, now, you folks are in a pickle. Welcome to The Prison. Current round: Nightshade & Mute.
!
Message from: MUST DO OBJECTIVES
Consider this a prison of your PCs own making - their worst fears, greatest insecurities and truest doubts play out here. Please describe what your PC is seeing, and how they react. Go for broke on the room / environment. It fits to match. You are alone, even if you came from the same place. To be clear. There is a way to escape. It is possible that you will hit upon it purposely, or randomly. I'll let you know if you do. But to be clear, from your PCs point of view, this is absolutely real.
!
Message from: CAN DO OBJECTIVES
There are 4 hidden objectives here. I'll let you know if you meet them.
Dates & Deadlines
You need to post here by Monday 25th March. If you have not done so, you've missed the round. I will be locking the thread at that time.
I will post on Tuesday 26th March.
㊝ Mood: Terrified
㊝ Company: Him and his nightmares
㊝ Current Thought: How do I make this Stop!!!!!
㊝ Current Theme:
㊝ One moment he was praying to He Who Bleeds and the next moment he heard a booming voice and poof, gone. In the blink of an eye he was somewhere else and at first glance he had no idea where he was, then it dawned on him. He was home.
No no this wasn't home, it looked like home but the feeling was off. The air was thick with the smell of blood, and every fiber of his being told him to run. The halls beckoned him to traverse them and despite his better judgment, he heeded its call.
Things were weird to say the least, as every portrait of him and his family seemed to corrode, the paint melting off the canvas, all except the dep[cition of his mother. As he rounded the corner he heard the sound of steel, something scraping across it. Someone was sharpening a blade? Who?
He didnt want to breach the threshold of the living room, standing out in the hallway. He could feel in his soul that something terrible was just beyond in the room before him. Stepping into the room his eyes scanned, now finding that the grinding noise had stopped for some odd reason.
Just where did it go? And who was in here sharpening a sword? Amidst all his inner inquiries he hadn't noticed the other person moving from the shadows till the source of the sharpening sounds pierced his chest. The pain as he watched in horror only amplifies the fear that was overwhelming him.
A soft hand held his face from behind as a sweet feminine voice echoed in his ear.
"I missed you my little viper, welcome home."
her voice hissed as she ran the blade straight up, splitting him in half.
With that finishing blow, he leaped up in a desperate gasp for air, quickly checking his body, patting himself down. There was no split, nothing, not a single sign of evidence that he had been bisected.
"Just what the fuck is going on!?"
he exclaimed finally see the room around himself.
It was his room, and everything was the same as it was when he left to train with the Seekers. Not a detail out of place, and even though it looked real, he could help but find it hard to believe as such. His heart sank even further when he heard the giggling. It was her, his mother, and she seemed to be coming down the hall.
Peeking out of the corridor, he didnt see her coming, though her giggling seemed to echo little louder this time. He was scared out his mind from that and began to run for his life. Down the hall he watched as the hallway elongated, the walls decaying and crumbling around him. Insects and maggots poured out of every crevice they could find, and pooled in front of him, forming a phantom of his father.
YOU....FAILED...ME!!!!!! its yelled, causing the viper to stumble back, only to look up and see his mother right there, and watch as her sword was driven right between his eyes. Screaming he sat up again, in his bed, looking around to see he was back in his room.
he yelled, only to be caressed by his mother's tender hands.
"Come now my sweet Hebi, there is no need to fret"
she said, which caused fear filled eyes to gaze up at the woman, her face covered in the shadows of the room. He gasped as her eyes glared with a blood red hue, and her grip on his face intensified, to the point the pressure was killing him....literally. With a crunch, her hands met within his skull.
And so he was back where he was again, in his bed, jumping from it to make sure she wasn't there. Just what fresh hell was this? He fell to the floor as his mind could no longer take it. Curling up in a ball he rocked back and forth, singing the Crimson Hymnal in a hushed tone
"Listen to his voice calling you,
Asking you for your blood,
Hear the moan of our god,
As we bleed in thoughts of him.
Astray with forgetfulness, you may go,
Still, he calls for your blood, leading you back to him.
We shall give our hearts to you,
To heal your wounds, as we watch over you.
The light of our lives is in your crimson glow
Fighting to ease the sorrow we sow.
Then from his grace, he shall send,
A peace will come to us in the end.
So listen to his voice calling you,
Asking you for blood once again,
Give unto him every drop,
For our crimson praise shall forever flow."
He found singing that song, brought some semblance of peace to him, but it wouldn't last, a new figure standing in the doorway of his room.
You alright there Dosan? why are you cowering in the corner for? his father's words were comforting, and he found himself running to the man, embracing his father. But even that felt...wrong. His father was never comforting like this, and by the time he realized it, it was already too late. He found himself slammed into the wall, a flurry fo punched pelting his upper body.
The viper did his best to try and defend himself but he was clearly outmatched, his father breaking through such feeble defenses like wet parchment. His face was being battered in as tears and blood dripped onto the floor, the words "please stop" unable to escape swollen lips. The punching continued until the effort to stand was no longer there, and the body slumping to the floor. The last muffled vision was of Dosan's father, fist coated in red as the viper fell into darkness.
That's all he could see now, all he could feel now was the darkness. It was cold and lonesome, and the viper kept hearing words of disappointment and hate being spat at him from voices both familiar and unknown. He began to weep in the shadows of whatever hell this was, and he was certain that there was no way out.
"Why are you crying?"
words that came from all around him, yet it soundedhis voice.
"Please dont cry, you dont need to be afraid."
ithe words came once more, and he was certain that was his voice, only......younger a lot younger.
He strained his eyes to try and focus on the voice and soon, a figure that appeared was that of Dosan when he was only 7 arcs old. He couldnt believe it, he would believe it thinking it was another form here to kill him.
"You can't stay here, you have to go."
Confused Dosan knelt in front of the younger version of himself, gripping the child doppelganger's shoulders.
"This is my reality now, I can't get out."
he said, defeat clear in his voice, to which the little one shook his head defiantly pushing away from Dosan.
"You can, you just have to want it. Do you want to get out?"
he said holding Dosan's face, wiping the tears that were falling from it.
"How bad do you want get out of this?"
"More than anything in the world, with every fiber of my being. I can't stay here anymore, reliving my death at her hands over and over again."
he said between sobbing moments. He wanted to live through this, he didnt want to be trapped in this place for much longer. He was intent that if the way if some form of a miracle could get him out of here, he would re-evaluate his faith as it was what got him in this shit hole in the first place.
The young Dosan patted his head and smiled, just as a door appeared in a blaze of light.
"Then go, the door is not that far from you. But hurry, mommy is coming."
he said as her demonic giggling echoed throughout the darkness.
"You have to run, she is hungry for more bloodshed."
And with those words, he began to dissipate along with the darkness, to reveal that Dosan was in the foyer of the house, and the door of light was several feet away from him. The moment he went running, someone grabbed his arm and whipping his head to look, it was her.
"Leaving so soon Dosan? I don't remember giving you permission to leave!"
she scalded, her voice carrying a booming and sinister tone with it. His eyes flared in panic, as he tried to pull away. He was soo close, reaching out to the door of light, but yet was caught in the vice-grip of his mother.
"You can leave, you just have to want it" those words echoed in his head, and it reminded him of when he made the weapons for Ali's group back in the waiting place with the other two. It was his will that made that happen, even if he had prayed to the Wounded God. They had weapons cause he willed them to have them.
He then thought if it would work here if his intent would work here.
"Fuck off!"
he snarled, turning his head slightly so to see her glaring red eyes.
"Excuse me!?"
she shot back, which was said in chorus as phantom versions of her began to fill the room, pouring in from everywhere.
"You can't keep me here, I'm leaving, and one trial soon, I'll kill you."
he said clear as glass, the intent on ending her life strong and vibrant, burning with the intensity of a raging inferno. He meant those words just as he meant to walk right out that door.
As he made his way to the blinding light, he could hear them all swearing at him, calling him all kinds of things, saying he was nothing but a waste of life and all that other jazz. Dosan could only smile as he passed through the doorway, uttering one final phrase.
"Love you too mommy."
㊝
"Common Speech"
"Vahanic Speech"
word count: 1719
㊮ "I'm nothing more than a snake. With cold skin and no emotions, as I slither around searching for prey with my tongue, swallowing down whoever & whatever looks tasty." ㊮
Always dark and always cold. And, inevitably, the room was bare.
It was The Prison, and more than that. It was every prison they had ever seen, every dream of being trapped or alone or afraid. It was each nightmare given form. As the Prisoner woke up, they realised that this was where they were. Here. Nowhere else. Never, again, would they be anywhere else because never again would they see outside of The Prison.
There were no doors.
There were no windows.
There was just them and every insecurity they had ever had. Each fear and self doubt given form and played out constantly.
This wasn't prison.
This was Hell.
Objectives
Well, now, you folks are in a pickle. Welcome to The Prison. Current round: Amaris & Prae
!
Message from: MUST DO OBJECTIVES
Consider this a prison of your PCs own making - their worst fears, greatest insecurities and truest doubts play out here. Please describe what your PC is seeing, and how they react. Go for broke on the room / environment. It fits to match. You are alone, even if you came from the same place. To be clear. There is a way to escape. It is possible that you will hit upon it purposely, or randomly. I'll let you know if you do. But to be clear, from your PCs point of view, this is absolutely real.
!
Message from: CAN DO OBJECTIVES
There are 4 hidden objectives here. I'll let you know if you meet them.
Praetorum had nothing else of value to give, and for that, he was cast away. And he found himself exactly where he had been earlier, in a Korlasir prison cell, his execution still waiting for him.
The living and the dead each stared coldly at him, waiting for him to come face his just dues.
But he had already made his decision, and he wasn't going to go back on it now. There was work to be done, and if he never earned his redemption for his crimes, so be it. At least the world would be awake to hate him.
Instead, he sidestepped the chopping block, and went for the corpse of his brother. Kneeling at his feet, Praetorum carefully took his brother's hand, gripping it tightly. "I missed you, Ri. And I'm so, so sorry." He pressed the hand to his muzzle, tears trickling down on it. "I love you. And I'll just have to live for the both of us, now, alright? So just watch me, brother."
And with that, Prae stood, and began to walk down the hallway, leaving his execution behind.
At the end of the hallway, far further than it had been in the real world, was a staircase. Praetorum shivered as he ascended it, these flimsy pajamas not offering much protection from the cold.
Strange... Korlasir wasn't that cold in Ashan. But the breeze floating down the staircase now was less chilly, and more frigid.
When he emerged out the top, he saw why.
He hadn't come out in Korlasir at all; he was back in Viden. Sort of. He was in a room made entirely out of ice, which he hadn't ever seen, but the soulless architecture, the ghostly wisps floating around with books in hand, the beggars freezing to death in the corners of the room.... It wasn't Viden, but it was everything he'd loathed about the city, all pressed together into a single structure.
Gritting his teeth, Prae looked around, finding a door on every wall. Pushing his way through it, he found the next room was near identical, as was the next, and the next.
After the seventh room, Prae stopped, shivering furiously. He could feel the heat and strength sapping from his limbs, and he was no closer to an exit than he'd been.
Anger flared in him then, and he slammed his fist against the wall. "LET ME OUT!" He roared, his voice echoing through the ice.
No one reacted, and Prae closed his eyes, trying to calm himself, his claws twisting the fabric of his pajama bottoms
He was going to get out of this damned prison. And come hell or high water, he was going to make his way to someplace where he could help. No matter what.
He needed to think. He needed to—
His fingers brushed against his pocket, and he paused, feeling something there. Pulling the object out, he found a small wooden doll in his hand, beaming up at him. It was a... what was the word... a peg doll, a piece of carved wood with some paint on it. He'd seen some with cylindrical bodies, but this one was broader at the base, narrowing towards the neck before being capped with a spherical head.
Funny, with the body tapered so, it looked a little bit like an arrow.
On some dumb impulse, Praetorum knelt and set the doll laying down on the ice. Drawing in a deep breath, he focused deeply on it. "Show me the way out." He commanded, and spun the door.
When it came to a stop, it did not so much slow to a stop as it did snap to one, the head of the doll smiling happily up at him as it pointed directly at one of the doors.
Picking it up, he murmured a thank you, and walked through that door. Squaring his shoulders, Prae repeated the process in the next room, and the next and the next, until finally, he walked into a room that was not like the others.
A pair of double doors.
Prae smiled.
And he pressed on through them, every cell of his being focused on getting out.
word count: 710
Let's play 'What's Weird About Prae'
Head
A fiery rune shines under his right eye
A firey glow in the back of his mouth
Arms
A ring of blue runes floats over each of Prae's wrists
A silver shield marks the back of his right hand
A ring of light around his left forearm
Misc
His tail is about eight feet long, usually knotted around his waist
His body temperature is uncomfortably high
Surroundings
Wind gusts with every step he takes
The area around him is slightly more static-y than normal
omg, Rakvald's nightmare was spooky! I didn't like it!! Well written, great fun.
Points
XP: 15 (not for magic)
Renown: 5
Loot
None
Knowledge
None.
Prae
Overview
What an interesting worse fear for Prae. He's so full of guilt and pain - and you write it beautifully. Very well done here.
Points
XP: 15 (not for magic)
Renown: 5
Loot
Knowledge
None.
Dosan
Overview
And the moral of this story is, don't pray to false gods in front of Vri - he doesn't like it! Your description of Dosan's deepest fear in nightmare form was vivid and beautifully written. Lovely.
