Paxus Asclepius
First Post
A maze of glowing, changing lights, between which dances the darkness . . . a song, both angelic and monstrous, airy and deeper than the groan of the earth . . . something taking your wrist, like a hand but so very unlike . . . a mesh around your limbs, pulsing in time with the song, lighter than cobwebs but heavier than a mountain . . . a sudden scent of cinnamon
The world snaps into focus. This room is tall and vaulted, the ceiling barely visible in the dim torchlight. A circle, almost four feet deep, is carved into the center of the floor. Around the perimeter are sticks of incense bundled together into torches the size of a small tree, and flickering flames of many colors rise from sconces on the wall. Above you, on a dais set against one wall, stands a robed figure, his hands weaving strands of light together as if he played children's games with string. His voice booms out like thunder as he casts his glowing net around the circle, engulfing you all. A simultaneous chill and heat seeps into your bones, as your flesh grows numb except for a tingling like a thousand thousand pins and needles in your flesh. Suddenly, all light, sound, and sensation ceases for a second, and the room is normal, save for the extremely motley band collected in its middle.
The robed figure pushes back his hood, revealing a youthful face under white-streaked black hair. He smiles, and says "I'm glad you all could make it. Now, I imagine you have a lot of questions, but I'm not going to answer any of them. Suffice it to say that I have need of your services, and will reward you well when you have completed my task. Do not try to escape," he adds, (as many of you likely have already attempted to). "The force shield will hold far stronger beings than you; it must, for my purposes. Now, I must ensure your cooperation. If you do not resist, this will be much easier on you." With that, he begins again to chant.
The world snaps into focus. This room is tall and vaulted, the ceiling barely visible in the dim torchlight. A circle, almost four feet deep, is carved into the center of the floor. Around the perimeter are sticks of incense bundled together into torches the size of a small tree, and flickering flames of many colors rise from sconces on the wall. Above you, on a dais set against one wall, stands a robed figure, his hands weaving strands of light together as if he played children's games with string. His voice booms out like thunder as he casts his glowing net around the circle, engulfing you all. A simultaneous chill and heat seeps into your bones, as your flesh grows numb except for a tingling like a thousand thousand pins and needles in your flesh. Suddenly, all light, sound, and sensation ceases for a second, and the room is normal, save for the extremely motley band collected in its middle.
The robed figure pushes back his hood, revealing a youthful face under white-streaked black hair. He smiles, and says "I'm glad you all could make it. Now, I imagine you have a lot of questions, but I'm not going to answer any of them. Suffice it to say that I have need of your services, and will reward you well when you have completed my task. Do not try to escape," he adds, (as many of you likely have already attempted to). "The force shield will hold far stronger beings than you; it must, for my purposes. Now, I must ensure your cooperation. If you do not resist, this will be much easier on you." With that, he begins again to chant.
