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[Prophecy] The Crossroads


ScreamingDingo
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In a pit of dry gore a horned giant prepares for battle. It refuses any master. What won't bleed will burn; men, kindred, gods.

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An estranged descendant, would stare at the beast, as he looked straight into the maw, that gaped open in front of him. However, upon seeing the impending death, a maniacal laugh would escape his lips, as for the first time, the unnaturally tall descendant came face to face, with the strange beast that he had spent hunting and researching since the last encounter. As his vision faded, he would awake from his slumber, deep within the roots of a massive tree that overlooked the West, before another series of incoherent chants, followed by laughs escaped his maw, as the figure proceeded to walk over towards a large cauldron and begin preparing various and strange concoctions to poison whatever it was, that appeared in his dream.

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The Kukaal rises from the dirt floor of his blarg in haste. His breathing heavy, sweat dripping from his furrowed brows. Twisting his head left and right to ensure nobody was around, he exhaled a long sigh, raising a clawed appendage to his temple. Awake from his shortened slumber, the hobgoblin gets to work, marching down into the Feasting Pit to make that dream a story, piecing together each fragment into a living story, one that he can look back on if necessary. 

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A skeleton spasmed to life, awoken from a prolonged stasis perched atop throne. Ivory joints begun to whir the living dead elsewhere in preparation of something titanic. .

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[[This is a prophetic vision accessible to seers, naztherak, farseer shamans, vivification clairvoyants, and mystics with hexing per Prophecy lore. This Prophecy is also seen by those who have interacted with the [Tree] Eventsite that is ran by ScreamingDingo, if you do not belong to one of the groups above. This is a continuation of the above prophecy, if not witnessed before, the full picture of the prophecy has been completed.]]

 

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Birthed from its roots, the monstrous being takes root within the world itself. Feldamir, the World Eater. The titanic, as it rumbles through the earth. Your own visage appears to the field of blood, where the warriors of crimson stand tall. The beast rips through the hills in a thunderous explosion, jets of green and black flame spewing from its body as it leaps across the skies, hitting the ground with vicious tunnels that eviscerate any that remain below it. Hordes of creatures are slaughtered and extinguished of their lights, the behemoth now presented in full glory.

 

The true rise of chaos has been birthed from the pits of the earth. From the Roots of Widukind, shall the World Eater consume all. Blood seeps from the maw of the Worm, as does the foundations of the world.

 

It wanders upon a sea of blood, the bogs of miasma as red, thunderous streaks follow suit. The birth of the beast was followed by its baptism. That held in its true form, the titanic mountain eater. That which would consume the mountains of heaven and hell.

It comes.

 

 


 

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Beneath the earth, upon a bleak throne, sat a creature in feigned sleep.

The dimly lit hall soon was illuminated by its opened eyes and the stones were bathed in azure mists. 

 

It was privy to those visions,

 

and it panicked.

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A shaman would get awakened by the visions that plagued him. However, this time, the image of the beast alone, was enough for the figure to quickly get up, and exit the tree, as it started to rapidly make its way towards the city, with a few Ologs following suit. Eventually, the little group, would begin dragging multiple Raguk cannons to the city that were left by the remnants of the clan, as great haste was made, to prepare the city should the beast arrive.

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Some dark elf just sits at the docs, after dragging massive amounts of logs to it. She looks over design plans. "Yeah. Uhuh. Boat, yeah just a simple boat." She looks over to another dark elf and shakes her head. "What? **** no we aren't doing anything about the massive worm I saw. Want to know what we are doing? We are getting in a boat, and we leaving. As simple as that."      "When are we leaving? Right now. Like pack your bags. Grab the kids. Get your affairs in order. We, are, leaving. **** this. **** trying to fight this. We are out of here." 

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Paying his continued respect to Skaatchnak, the Bloodflame Shaman and Krothuul, the Last Ramgoth, the Kukaal dazes off, his form becoming limp against the stone steps before the Shrine of Krug. The visions of the crimson battlefield illuminate in his dreams, that visage of himself in terror as that gargantuan beast ravages all in its path. The Witchdoctor awakens from this prophetic nightmare, his eyes opening to his fallen brothers once more. 

 

"Da urukim ahm nub strong enough... mi grukz wi may all join latz both in da Stargush soon" 

 

With that Bumba'Akaal returns to planning their burial rites, his sorrowful gaze now etched with fear. 

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Your eyes open to the stench of blood that lingers upon the edges of the swamp. The reeds and assortment of thickets strangle the trees, the water lurking upon the edges and flowing through. The gnarled bark of the trees lies familiar, yet the area is missing a key feature that was present before.

 

The thudding of a heartbeat fills your ears, the deep rhythm felt within your bones as your vision scans across the area. One blink reveals the Titanic Monolith of a tree, akin to the Widukind, a second has it vanish into an assortment of branches that enwreathe the area. 

 

Each blink, the tree vanishes in and out of reality, all as the deep rhythms of the thumping heart slowly stagnate. Longer pauses felt between each pulse, all as the tree eventually vanishes completely from your sight. Your vision does not fall upon the false idol, as the heart stops beating.

The stagnant silence fills the swamp, peace. A return away from deception and the false idols. 

 

Something has changed, what comes next?

 

 

 


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Once again the figure would be plagued by these strange dreams, as it found itself standing on the edge of the swamp facing the strange tree. Soon, the armored figure would feel the heartbeat pulsating through its bones, as the vision began changing, with the tree re-appearing after every beat. With the vision fading, the figure would find itself awake, and hastily retreat to the storage room to take out a sword that was crafted from a strange metal which had previously inflicted some damage upon this creature or whatever it was. "Zo hi rearz hiz head again huh. But now dat da heart iz expozed, it ahm tik to finally ztrike agh end it azh agh vur all." The figure speaks, as it attached the sword to its hip and headed out towards the North.

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