============================================================================== Signs in the Mist: Ancient Cries Pt. I Date: 20th of Fall, 511av. ============================================================================== |
| A Storm was coming from below the city streets of Sunberth. A storm not of the fashioning of the gods, or of the elements of nature. But a storm literally forged from out of this world. In the darkness of the depths, an ancient creature was pupating out of the shell which had bound it. Shirking the chains of those who feared its insatiable drive to truly know another. A creature whispered about in the legends of the world, a being termed by many descriptors. Monster, Destruction, Carnage, Desolation, jaberwocky, and yet, those upon Mizahar's boundaries knew it by another name... a plainer name, or perhaps planar was a better term. To them the name they knew it by was simple, almost incorporate to the true horrors of the creature's nature. To them, it was simply known by the term: Journeyman And now, after hundreds of years of waiting, watching,... and growing it began to wriggle free its confines. Destroying the rusted magical chains which bound its dormant form from renewal. It's arms tearing at the yolk sack of its larval egg to fall heavy upon the ancient dust of the catacomb's deep within the sealed confines. Within the darkness, and the decrepit tomb, a mewling cry of a faceless child began to wail, as the grey skinned creature began to raise itself to its feet. Eyes, still blinking with new-formed lids looked above, to see what had freed it from its captivity, long enough to note an ancient pedestal lying broken, with faint footsteps marked within the grime about its base. Someone had freed it, it seemed, and it sensed, and it had a strong desire to Know whom had done so. Sensory organs which served as ears began to listen, as it noticed the pattering of some creature ahead and just around the central entrance to its once shielded chamber. It slithered now, it's back taking upon the guise of a dhani's tail, as from its forearms the three pronged claws of an ancient reptilian predator formed. It could hear the voices, It had to understand, had to feel for itself... It had to Know what the strange noises were coming from. Soon, its eyes spotted the fleshy mass walking away from it towards somewhere else, where it didn't know but that didn't matter. The fleshy mass was there. That was enough for the moment. Slithering quickly it gained ground and in the haste of its passage towards the thing of flesh it knocked an urn aside. It's reverie of thought was broken, as the fleshy thing screamed and it reminded itself of what it wanted from the being. Darting forwards it's raptor claw grabbed the unknown creature by the head and flung it sideways into a hard surface. The flesh being didn't appear to like this as it grunted loudly and kicked its legs into ... into Its chest. Yes that was the correct term: chest. Black ovoid orbs began to stare into the fleshy thing's eyes, as the creature's ancient instincts began to wildly manipulate the djed in the area. For an instant the eyes of the Journeyman and the eyes of the flesh thing in its grasp met... and it began to Know. The creature's name was Bernster, a thief. What was a theif? It was someone who stole from someone else. What was stealing? The act of taking something which didn't belong to you. Ah, then It was a thief was it not? As thieves must be those that wished to Know? As the creature began to absorb the information from the mind of its victim, the screams howled into the darkness as the man's mind was turned to mush... and the body withered. Soon enough, the husk of a shell which was formerly known as a man called Bernster was dropped to the floor, and the Journeyman pondered what else there was to Know. In the back of its mind it sensed that up above somewhere there were many things to Know… and swiveling around it began to stumble forwards to find its way up through the catacombs, always seeking a path which would lead it upwards… |
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Within the swells of Baroque Bay, in the midst of Lodestar Isle, a mist began to form above the demesne of Leywellin Manor. A mist that first baffled the eyes of those Daggerhands stationed there was forming upon what had been a cloudless dawn. Slowly it came together and began to thicken, spreading from a few faint whisps of moisture to a deep shroud above the area which continued to grow, and spread. Slowly, the cloud began to move upon its own. Pushing against the wind it drifted over the bay and towards the shores of the sleeping town as it continued to grow, rise and thicken. The uncommon mist swept up from the water’s edge, beginning to move with an impossible swiftness as it traveled, and newborn children shivered and cried in its wake as it began to settle upon the town. Soon, the mist so thick that the common eyes would not be able to see very far ahead of them as it blanketed the streets of the town proper, becoming thickest at the doors of the Church of the Unknown God. In the graveyard of the Dust Bed, Old man Jebediah immediately closed all burial services of the day and made a warding motion with his hands. This was moments before consigning his employees to go home without an explanation before he followed his own advice to shut himself away in his hut to lock an bar the door. If any might see him inside, they would have noticed him reach into an old chest to pull out a flagon of wine, a giant block of cheese and an well-worn crossbow before he locked and barred the door. In response to something that only mothers knew, wives with children locked their doors and sent their children to bed before begging husbands to stay home. And many men whom had ever felt the crawling fey touch of ghostly hands shivered, and began to perspire uncontrollably. Other more susceptible sorts suddenly stopped talking to their fellows and jerked like marionettes before their voices could be heard again. This time, strange cultured tones mouthed noble sounding platitudes and excuses to their companions and comrades before they inextricably gathered up their weapons and began to march towards the ancient church like moths heading into a flame. In a small shop, in the midst of stumble alley, a hermit of man named "Bashful" Doler looked upwards out the window of his shielded room towards the church proper and then back towards his desk. Muttering a bit to himself he stood up and marched frantically towards a glass display where inside a bluish flame of ethereal fire mysteriously snuffed itself out. With horror and dread in his eyes Doler scrambled towards a locked chest and began to rummage inside, as a frantic look began to come to his eyes… Within the square by the gallows a man hanging from Robern Dalanger’s noose kicked once or twice before saying a few simple words which no one upon the ground could make out besides, “Yes…” At the utterance the mist swirled around him like some primordial predator, enveloping him from sight. The Daggerhands guard murmured and coughed as their eyes suddenly became watery as they scratched them. When the itching had stopped the guards looked back at where the man had been only to see the empty swinging noose. The body of the hanged man had vanished without a trace. But around town, these scenes and several similar ones were repeated over and over, and the more cautious men of the city would bar their doors, and prepare for the worst. While the bravest, and the foolhardy would serve to brave the city’s streets. Far to the west, those nearest to the Haunted Falls would swear they heard the waling keen of the dead echoing for miles. In response to the strange goings on, a crystal of ice appeared upon the water's surface. This was soon followed by another, and then another. Spreading quickly the ice soon choked off the waters of the falls themselves, effectively damming the life giving waters of the hillside springs which fed the farms of sunberth. For now, the effects would be slight, but soon it would cause draught unless the situation was reversed. Something had come to sunberth today. Perhaps several something‘s worth… but all the common man could ponder, was perhaps it was best to stay inside. For those with sterner stomachs, or more foolhardy then they seemed, this would be a series of days that would forever be scarred into their souls. Yes, something or multiple somethings had come upon the town of Sunberth… and it seemed for their own reasons they wanted to play. |
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