[Tome] The Planar Dictate

[Zarsies 6795]

  

 

 

 

Tensed fingertips took to leather and peeled open a tome of otherworldly make; swords stood ready, attentions were piqued, and heavy hearts watched the awakening of the Planar Dictate. Found out of time and misplaced in the strangest of locations, the tome was finally opened after two centuries of dormancy. To this, minds and hearts raced. As the hand drew back and opened the book, its holder jerked back and its owner's compatriots stood at the ready for any threat. From its glittering pages a shock wave of sundering force erupted from its pages, consuming the higher walls and roof of the building which it was opened that continued outward and sheered mighty trees in half. The onlookers were send sprawling back by the wave as it rippled out, cutting and dissolving what was around them. The wave had expanded out, stopping at not point, and wracked the entirety of the mortal plane; this reckoning shattered all existing portals of frail make, those derived from the minds of Descendants and mortals of the current age who sought to replicate the devices of the enigmatic wizard .raSmoT the Mad.

 

Shaken, shocked, and majorly without harm, the group watched the book in silenced awe. Its pages held no words, the opened cover blank. Only within the center of the book's pages was a point of interest -- a deep, vertical pit of magical space. The strange chamber, nearly three men deep, gave rise to smoke and cinder. From the weary clouds shot out an even more awkward and bizarre sight; the sentient being of Rupert the Washboard was coughed out of the book, the mere size of half a halfling. Comprised entirely out of the animated structure of a washboard fit with a wooden frame and metal rungs, Rupert was caught in a frightful cycle. The weird little being constantly burst into flame -- to which he appeared to suffer no damage -- and reacted with terror. Just behind him the Planar Dictate spat out a small woodchip of equal outlandishness; the chunk of timber soared through the air and flew around Rupert, expelling gale-force winds from no apparent part of its anatomy and would extinguish the washboard. Rupert would catch fire and the woodchip would put him out. Again and again this little dance carried on with only minor pauses of burning while the befuddled audience of the book-openers stared.

 

The hustle and bustle of life quickly brought itself to the scene; while Rupert and the woodchip ran through their cycle, the book opener closed the Dictate and moved it back into their satchel. One of the other onlookers had shouted in a distressed yelp, "Outvoker!" From behind the group, perched atop the cleanly obliterated wall remains of the building, stood the mythical visage of the Outvoker. The ancient Bohra watched without a noise or action, his swine-like snout and ever-changing Thanhium tattoos the only movement on his burly, massive figure. Just as quickly as he was noticed, the great creature clamped its jaws together and slid back, falling off the wall. Dipping out of sight of those present, the elder wizard vanished without a trace. The air he previously took up churned and warped, the very material of the mortal world fighting against his momentary interruption. In the responding calls from the book openers, Rupert and the woodchip had ended their igniting and extinguishing; Rupert clung to the leg of the book opener of the Planar Dictate and just as a secondary group of mages and assorted allies arrived, the little washboard and the Dictate's owner suddenly vanished in turn. Confusion was at its most savored heights in those moments with each part of the many-missing puzzle pieces revealing themselves.

 

First of nine, lost no more.

 

 

[[Thank you to those who attended. This event took place a few days ago but a few things obstructed me from making this post on time; here it is now, though.]]

[Farryn 860]

Somewhere, a cleric wonders what had become of that washboard and smiles faintly at how it kept on going aflame with fire.

 

((...xD Poor Rupert, how it keeps on going aflame during that event.))

[ToodIes 1575]

A secondary ally, having witnessed the egress of the washboard, hurriedly questions the book-openers on what transpired. His eyes widen, and a look of confusion and horror spreads on his face as he scurries back to the nearby library. He tears pages out of his notebook carefully, and procures a pen from somewhere on his person to write a series of notes to be strewn across Vailor. He stumbles out of Dragur, messages imploring caution stuffed into his pocket as he prepares to make a long journey. 

 

Spoiler