[Prophecy] The Crippling of Flight

[ScreamingDingo 16792]

[!] This is a lore-compliant Prophecy, and as such only users with accepted Mysticism, Vivification, Farseer, Naztherak, or Seer applications may bear witness to it.
[Also those who witnessed the event with femurlord today will be privy to this prophecy.]

The abyssal darkness ensnares your vision as the scent of sulphur and blood stains your nostrils. Your eyes follow along the maddening depths, trying to decipher, anything at all, within the chaos. A weeping eye simply opens upon the edge of your vision.

The bloodshot, eldritch eyeball that stares back at you. Unwavering in its appearance, the eye blinks again as the dredges of malflame seem to pour from its ducts, the scars of blood and gore eviscerated in the ever flowing green and black flame of hell.
 

 

The symphony of blood is interrupted by the sudden shrieking of bats, your own body falls into the gaping caverns of ancient tombs and hanging coffins. It slams against the earth with a harsh thud as your own vision adjusts to the sudden warp. The scattering of bats is seen everywhere, before they start to drop upon the ground. 

One by one. 

Their bodies flop to the ground with sickening, squelching thuds onto the stone that covers the floor. Their bodies writhe in pain as ethereal shackles seem to hold them in place, one by one they drop.

And one by one, they remained bound to this. The flesh from their form slowly melts away, revealing a squirming skeletal mass that remains encased in the shackles beneath each. Their jaws unlatch as the chaos of shrieking echoes along the coffins of the dead. A clanking of shackles are heard as the area fades to an inky darkness.

 

“Draz’razik, dag’ hrak’tiv. Aknotum daz’kiztik”

 

The words echo within your mind, as you awake from the sudden vision. The scorching infernal tongue felt deep within your mind, each guttural word stinging with intensity.

[TreeSmoothie 4857]

An Ancient -- too ancient -- Dame had hunkered back into her quarters deep in the catacombs, picking off the scraps of gore and soot-stained patches from her robes. On the wall ahead of her was a homemade altar, sigils strewn about it and revolting, caked on blood soaking its stone, pooling onto the floor below in deep red puddles.

 

                                   

 

"H . . . hail Iblees! Hail Hydra! Hail Lubba! Hh . . . hail . . . hail . . ."

the enfeebled necrolyte muttered, falling to her knees. She fell back and her head hit the stone with a sickening crunch, at last dropped into an uneasy rest plagued by visions and nightmares.

[ThatFunkyBunch 2036]

A shaken shaman makes the long walk home. Thoughts of Mori long left the mind. Focused only upon the great eye, from the vision. And a great eye herself and two other shamans had visited. Left with no solid answers. The shamans scramble for time and knowledge. Was it true? Did the great eye betray them for power? For knowledge? The bridge to the Moz was gone, left only with troubling rumors. She could only hope were false. 

 

Else, it would be upon them to seal, trap, and kill a spirit. 

[satinkira 5798]

The realms of men, a Monk summarised, were too focused on worldly matters. Such will be their downfall at the hands of whichever deific foe acted quickly enough.

[Jentos 6813]

Spoiler

prophecies aren't real the red lidless eye isn't there just take your meds babe 

 

[Evonpire 1816]

Kybal'Akaal recoiled, stumbling backwards breathing deeply as he received the vision, knowing well the context of it, he had to wonder, was his Clan dead, did they fail?

[Panashea 2644]

Ghoraza's hands still smolder and drip with embers, made flame by the gore and entrails it now studied.

 

The orc rarely sleeped, and now the creature had been drawn up into the machinations of something greater.

 

Twisted circles lattice around the orc and enchanted entrails, forming more rituals to higher powers.

 

"The wheel will be halted by our hand."

[Jihnyny 2567]

Bogdâg'Lak awoke from his slumber, still experiencing great nightmares of what happened to his dear friend. His gaze fell down upon his blue palms, terrified he was. Terrified, that there are creatures, and power of which he witnessed the other day. He felt small, tiny. As if he was but a tadpole in a great swamp. He then understood, that he had more to learn, for LAKLUL and Bogdâg's own strenght, will not be able to save him in times like this.

[Vilebranch 280]

Deep beneath the eastern clay, the minotaur stirred in the cavernous depths. A trail of smoke rose up from its snout as it recalled that glorious battle. A prideful demon laid low by its own arrogance. Draz-Kulzattar the fool. Draz-Kulzattar the imp. It would not matter. The Eye of Providence were upon them.

 

"Ra’drakurz raht roknoth kuul ra’vaznan amol tul."

[Xergarok 295]

Darkness would be its part, its crimson ichor all but spent as defeat was at hand. Dark red steam rose from between the metal plating, segments of its spine trying to hold its faltering body up... The master had failed... The master had failed... Raw hatred gushed through its veins while this thought plagued its mind.

 

Short pain. Then... Nothing. 

[Wulfric 98]

Obok Metaldrinks woke up in his apartment, breathing heavily as sweat ran down his skin, the vivid images still fresh in his mind he muttered to himself.

W'at t'e 'ell 'ave i gotten myself into?!

[SlitheryC1 476]

Slith awoke within their bed, gasping for air as their eyes darted around their room- logical thinking replaced with the single sentence, if only for a while.
 

In the coming moments, he calmed. Their body flopped back down upon their bed, staring up towards the ceiling. They slowly muttered the phrase to themself, the one that had so deeply been seared into his mind before finally getting out of bed.

"...Oi need some fockin explanations..."

[TheBigBubbles 650]

A devil awoke seized by a cold sweat. Mircalla reached a clawed hand out to a glass of water by the bedside. These visions seemed to be more frequent as the continent spiraled into madness. The infernally tainted thing's mind turned over the final phrase, "Corpse crafters... Bat?" she'd mutter to herself, slipping into a set of armor.

[Sewer_Rat 529]

Madoc'Lur would wake up in bed, with sweat running down his forehead, as he continued to relive the event that had just transpired, as it was embedded in the Uruks memory. "Zo, it ahm tik for da Uluamirzgai to return...." He mumbles to himself, as he stares at the ceiling for a moment, reaching for his pipe and smoking it.

[Orphvius 423]

A Witch shot up from beneath the cowl of her bed, slamming her skull against the treated wood of the rough frame. It had become habit for her to take rest beneath the shade of her nest, the stark comfort of dust mites and darkness kept her company whilst she dreamt of her late husbands’ demise; but not tonight. Tonight she dragged herself up from the sweat soaked sheets, the pounding in her ears not enough to overbear the queasy feeling in her gut. After heaving over the sink and wrenching for the second round she’d place a bare hand against her infernal tainted spine. The faded tender pink of the script a welcoming reminder of the child she was to bare in a few years time..