Underdark Rising

CASE 19: Broken Dreams

The shadow amidst the maelstrom did not waver. For all its fury, the howling oblivion was a shallow squall against the depths revealed behind those blue eyes robbed of all endings.

But not all eternities can last forever, and the dissolution tore across the ancient bindings of god and King. For the first time in centuries, as the mask washed away like a dark bubble of foam, she saw the shadow with her own eyes. And in this single moment of absolute freedom, in-between enslavement and destruction, it was pity that moved her.

“My dream ends, but yours will remain.” She apologized as her ordered domains finally sundered and splashed violently across reality. Would some mewling creation crawl forth from this disgorged chaos, she wondered, as primordial gods blood spilled between unfeeling fingers. Another sad fragment of a sad fragment, until one day they were all simply dust in empty halls where giants once rejoiced.

CASE 18: The Swamps of Sadness

Montefor. She suppressed the surge of envy for the chosen, and tried to settle for a somewhat spiteful form of pity. After all, seven years ago the unworthy had been set free, while they remained leashed to a corpse. She had grown strong, while her jailers had remained in the ruins of their prison. Their great society rendered impotent and barren, so even as they continued to live, their future remained as dead as Kings.

As if on cue, she felt again the twinkling rattle of red crystal spires. Again the feeling of being trapped, of old fears returning anew. It was too damn close. Her hand grasped at the neck of her white robe, as if she too felt the stifling curse that gripped the throat of the Realm. Even the mad god of the forest avoided the Red Palace, perhaps still prescient enough to know that its long stillness would one day end.

Beneath even a whisper she spoke the old rhyme, taught to her by another unworthy born of the Kingswood. What would be taken this time, she wondered, or would there be anything left in the wake of it all?

CASE 16: Light the Watcher's Tower

Starday 130283: Burned a thing!! Haha stupid thing!!! (3x fire-runes)


Starday 130288: Just because she’s OLDER than me. Harbingers need to learn to CHILL with that SHIT

Starday 130292: I still can’t get over what a bitch she is.

Starday 130295: Eternity’s too short for all this drama, imma gonna go light some fires >:)

Starday 130300: I think the Montefors are cute <3 Everyone’s rude just because they’re monsters. Like, last I checked, humans burn just as quickly lol!!! (4x fire-runes)

Starday 130302: Masking day’s coming up soon!! SOO EXCITED!!!!!

Starday 130305: Worst. Masking. Day. Ever.

Starday 130306: Uh. Guys? Sirius-ly here, heh… hello????

Starday 131592: Sorry for not posting much, wasn’t in a really good place for a while. But I’m back! :P

Starday 131733: Looks like another god-hunt, and she’s a fire god too! Blue fire though, which is kinda weird. Like why limit yourself sister? Fire comes in all shapes and colors!

Starday 132495: Pretty lonely masking day again… I guess they’re not coming back either.

Starday 132600: Fuck this, I’m gonna take a nap. If any Watchers are out there you know where to find me. Otherwise I’ll cya next century.

King in the Stone

“And in that dark sky were a field of stars uncountable, their winking light a last spark of the union of forge and god. Beauty masked but not blind, all eyes fell upon one creature. Unmoving as stone, and so everything must perforce turn about it. Not a man, no, no. When this creature, this seeding stillness, had a name… They called it King.

But given time, even the dead will stand up, dance, and sing. Life, hungry life, will not be forever denied. And so it was for one night the creature truly lived, and shared with us its dark sky full of glittering greedy stars.

Venomous moon, child, such is the unworthiness of mankind. We felt its touch, were broken and remade by sisters’ tender fingers. We all know. It wanted to give this gift to everyone, to finally fix everything. But we were not worthy.

I believe it though, in all our bones, that day will come. The day when we are worthy enough to pull the King from the stone, and finally get what’s coming to us."

- Avrick Olleander Shontefor,
The Seventh Council of Madness

CASE 14: Ascension
Interim: The Path of Kings

“So now we have a princess, a mysterious knight errant, and a skulking cult of lizard men emerged from myths and beyond the depths of the known world?”

“She’s been a bit bored, yeah. Just thought you’d want to know, in case it means she’s starting to go crackers up there. Harold would just throw her back in Tower Rose, but I’m thinkin maybe we got something else she could be doing?”

Philip paused, the smoke from his cigar curling softly through the air as the Library glared on in restrained disapproval, a reminder of the strange world they’d stepped into. He had almost shaken the distracted musing when his eye fell upon the chessboard in the corner of the room. The ash of his cigar continued to smolder and fell away unnoticed.

“Well,” he said finally, sipping from his brandy to clear the dryness in his throat. “We are walking in the Land of Kings now I suppose. Such things are to be expected—the chivalrous knights and dire portents at least. No harm in humoring her for now. Perhaps a public appearance will shore up the troops and take her mind off such things?”

“Alright Philip, but I won’t have her talking to the boys about no greens.” Jenna’s image in the mirror made a swift cutting gesture. “People on edge enough as is, and superstitious nonsense like that ain’t gonna help anyone.”

As her image faded Philip plunged his cigar into the remaining brandy, which emitted an unsettling hiss as he strode across the room. Carefully he studied the six new figures on the board, for once ignoring the golden rook that had been drawing closer for days now. These pieces by comparison were nondescript, appearing to be nothing more than common pawns.

But beneath them a hard shadow stained the surface of the board, stretching and contracting in a regular rhythm, like a slumbering heartbeat cut from an unfathomable darkness.


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