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Ode


Wretched
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“Give them back…”

 

          A voice cried in anguish to the looming dark.

 

“Give me back my eyes…”

 

          An Elf named Ode found himself isolated. Alone in a field of swaying barley that stretched out endlessly to each horizon. A place from a dream, he believed, but never really knew for certain. Hungry far beyond starvation, the man’s gaunt frame knelt amidst the crop, and where once sat his eyes, now rest two deep horizontal gashes.

 

          Though the bleeding had ceased, the pain had not. To come to terms with one’s blindness is a feat only capable by the strongest of wills, but this Elf was not strong. Weakness engulfed him, and in his shameless self-pity, he found himself pleading with the unseen, with the vacant void that had consumed his vision.

 

“Anything. I will do… Anything…”

 

          Could that darkness laugh, it would have surely howled at the pitiful creature that so desperately called for its aid. He cried and yelled into that abyss, fists dirtied from pounding into the mud below, but much to Ode’s surprise, something answered.

 

          By blessing, by curse or by miracle, Ode slowly found his vision restored. But soon he would learn that fate is a wicked creature. As light and colour were gradually perceived through the still-bloodied scars that had replaced his eyes, he found himself staring up to a colossal entity that towered above, tentacles and appendages writhing and contorting.

 

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(Artist: Craig Spearing)

 

          Ode screamed. Shrieking in dread at the abominable sight before him, he placed his hands across his eye-sockets only for the immense horror’s image to persist. From the earth around him, more tar-like appendages sprouted, wrapping themselves around his limbs, delicately caressing his body as he sat frozen in petrification.


 

“C̱̺̺̤̅́o͇̬̻̱͚̻͚̅̾͂͋ͭ̎́v̡̺̻̲̳̠͍̹̐ͧ̽ͣͮͣ’ͬ̏̽̎r̴̆ ̉͐̉͋̒ͧ̃͜y̶̬͎̱͖ͮ͊̃̒o̘̟̤͈͚͚̺̊ͫ͠ư̿͗͐̋̌ṟ̲̼̘̉̾͌̉̀ ̖̩͔̜ͥ̏̌ͨe͔͗̃́y̫̭̝̟ͯͥͭ͋̔̑e͚̠ͩ̇̍̎̉s̭̰̠͎͚̫̲.̽́̓ͫ”

 

 

          An entity spoke in his own voice. He knew only to obey, tearing at his sleeve and removing a length of fabric. Gasping and panicked, he clumsily tied it around his face, wrapping it around his head multiple times until finally, the conscious nightmare subsided. He was in a barren field of barley, and no evidence of the horrors he saw there remained.

 

          With sight restored even through cloth, even through the absence of eyes, Ode came to a conclusion: we are all born blind.

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Really love this ****, wish more seers would post this kind of stuff when they get the feat. 
 

also why would you ever come back to this hell hole

 

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This.. this is the Lovecraft experience. Amazing work. I would love to see more!

 

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This was a good read! Love to see new seers around, especially one from a famous role-player! 

 

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Hey... Thats pretty poggers

 

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