[TSR-9537 / Pathfinder] "The Forgotten Terror"


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    [TSR-9537 / Pathfinder] "The Forgotten Terror"

    White-hot pain lanced through your back, sliced through your innards, and exploded out your stomache. Pain, like nothing ever-before experienced, suffused your entire being. A scream rose from your breast, but was cut silent by another brutal blow. The assailent, masked though he was, gave himself away with the weapon he bore. Twin snakes intertwined to form the kris-dagger, either tail forming one side of the blade. Between the fanged mouths was a flawless ruby, bloodred, yet pulsating with an inner light. Such was the last thing seen in life.

    Or was it? Death had come swiftly, yet through fluttering eyelids came the ruddy-glow of light, of life? Feeling came to fingers and toes, slowly and with an accompanied buzzing sensation. Like awakening from a prolonged slumber, wakefulness was slow to be had. Had death been staved off?

    You come to your senses in a place unlike any you have ever seen before. The suface beneath you is a sheet of red glass or crystal, which glows with a diffuse, rippling light. It stretches out of sight in all directions with no visible edge or border. Above you, a black sky devoid of stars, clouds, or other features spreads from horizon to horizon. Vast arcs of crimson lightning sporadically lance across this void followed swiftly by tremendous claps of thunder. These mighty reports cause the ground beneath your feet to tremble, yet no echo is ever heard in their wake. The air around you feels neither cold nor warm and is without scent or motion. Stiffling, the vast openness seems somehow close and confining.

    Uncertainty welled within you, Alive or Dead, this place was maddening. Standing their, considering things, the minutes passed - the vastness remained. The region grew niether hotter, nor colder, and no sign of life or visitors became apparent. There is no respite from the endless cascade of lightning and no reprieve from the cacophony of thunder.

    Still, not everything remains the same. As you linger in this place, you become aware of a distinct feeling of lethargy and weakness. Is this the result of some outside force or only the lingering effects of your arrival in this strange land? At the moment, it was impossible to tell.

    Curious, and wanting for something to stave off the feelings of hoplessness, you set one foot before the other, plodding through the never-changing realm. Before long, it became difficult to say how long you had been walking, as one place appears to be the same as another. Always there is the crimson glow beneath your feet, the black expanse above you, and the eternal cascade of thunder and lightning around you.

    Only gradually do you begin to hear a voice. At first, you mistake the faint whispers as nothing more than the fading rumble of thunder. With each passing second, however, it becomes clear that this murmuring holds something more. Someone, or something, is trying to talk to you.

    "We are all prisoners of this place. I must serve one who should obey me. You shall be consumed by the land itself." The voice was shallow, and barely above a whisper. It seemed to come from the surface of the ruby, but only followed the rolling of thunder. "Survival is our common goal. We are both in need of allies. As a sign of my good faith, I offer the following advice: Gather the glowing stones of the land. They are the key to both our salvations. I give you the first so you may know what to look for." At this statement, a glossy red sphere appears in your hand, perfectly smooth and the size of an eyeball, glowing with a light which matched the crystal ground underfoot. "In addition to this counsel, I make you a gift. Consider the matter; we shall speak again." The voice died away immediately, though the lightning and thunder continued.

    The sphere in the hand brought light to another finding. Wrapped around a finger was a ring of white-metal, like platinum. There was a subtle tugging from the ring, lifting the hand as though to indicate a direction to travel. Without any other recourse, the feet followed the pointing digit. Whether it took minutes or longer mattered not, for the ring's guidance led you to the discovery of others. Each had the same look about them, cast in grey despite the crimson lightning, as though all color had been leeched from them, skin and clothes alike. So too were each seemingly guided by their hands, just as yours had guided you here.

    Another tear of crimson rends the black skies above. The cacophony of thunder shreds the otherwise still air. Repeatedly, echo-less thunder and crimson lightning bursts throughout the skies in a torrent. In the moments between, there is only silence.



    OOC: You are dead, or are you? Please describe yourself to the others that have arrived at the same spot.
    Each PC has the following:
    - All possessions noted on PC Sheet (If your PC is incomplete, PLEASE complete!)
    - Red Crystal (Sphere)
    - "Shepherd" Ring (Leads unerringly to other "Shepherd" Rings)
    Last edited by Mithral·Dragon; Wednesday, 10th February, 2010 at 08:33 PM. Reason: thread title
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    - Case of the Eerie Aerie (IC)
    - Case of the Stoned Dude (IC)


    Ravenloft: The Forgotten Terror
    - Recruitment

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