Damnit_Delmar 1137 Share Posted May 21, 2023 Spoiler *The events of these dreams are not public knowledge* A Thane's Promise The Adunian sat next to the banks of white sand, the grains slowly slipping and falling from his palm, mixing and merging with the dunes beneath his feet. He knew it was close, the time when sands ran red, and the waters filled with the dead. His dreams had changed, no longer clouded, but instead imparting a sense of direction for the Farscryer. “I suppose it is time to get ready then” He slowly stood, making his way back once more to the gates and into the ruined city of San Luciano. His clouded gaze shifted to the surrounding area, watching at the repaired structures that descendent kind had all united in fortifying together, watching as the Brothers of Brev worked to heal their injure and guard the gates, and watched as those who did not know what to do ideally chatted with one another. The Adunian merely chuckled, head slowly shaking as he felt another wave of lethargy wash over him, the sun certainly not helping him stay awake. “Just a bit of rest-,” His mutter would be interrupted by a swift yawn, his head slowly nodding, as his head of grayed hair would come to rest against the warm red cloth of the table. His head would lower, face planted against the surface, as he felt the warm embrace of sleep take over. His mind drifted, guiding him down that same path he had been viewing for the last several months. . . He awoke as he always did, in a puddle of murky water and waves, his hair floating upon the saltwater as rested there upon his back. Slowly, he began to lift himself up, the Adunian looking about the ruined stone keep. Towering walls of ruined marble, and crumbled columns decorated the once grandiose keep. Torn banners of the once proud Delmar Clahn, flying within the aged Adunic home. His head slowly turned about, golden hues affixed to the rotted door, the worm filled wood holding a peculiarity to it. An untarnished handle of silver, glinting in the early morning sun. With a deep breath given, he would walk over, opening it up to reveal the cracked stairwell. The sound of water rushing and flowing, entering his ears. Taking careful steps, he began to slowly descend down into the deep cellar. The sound of the water, only growing louder and louder, the stones beneath his feet slowly shifting. The carved brick of the castle, shifting and morphing to form a darker and more natural rock. With every step down, the noises grew, from the sounds of the sea did another noise erupt to life. The sound of screeching bats, and slithering serpents, a multitude of yellowed eyes peering from the crevices. A dark shape, flying past his head, only to give light to the path behind him once more. “Ten,” The amount of times he had managed to catch that swift thing within his vision, and the amount of seconds it took, before he felt that odd distortion. The world seemingly shifted, spinning, and hurdling, before he managed to catch himself against the stone wall. The rough cracks and shaping, and the slick moisture that trickled down, hinting at his arrival at the cavern's entrance. “Four.” He pushed himself from the slick surface, stumbling towards the gray light that spilled from the entrance, his feet meeting not the rough surface of stone. But rather, soft and cushiony grains of sand, his movement slowed as he entered that old and ever shifting ruins. Pillars rising from the waters, barnacles and algae spreading across its surface like an aquatic canvas. Centered amidst the dirtied waters, and old stones, sat an old skeleton, a blindfold of a purplish hue upon its rotted visage. Yet sprawled nevertheless, upon a throne of colored Anorum. He felt that familiar heaviness, the caution that warned him to step back, that tingle that told him to run up those worn steps and hide. Yet he did not listen, instead choosing greed, over his fear and caution. HIs breathing grew heavier, as he stumbled to the ratted cloth, his steps causing ripples to form in the shallow water. The sound of dripping, only growing louder, as he extended a palm out to grasp onto the blindfold on the visage of the old corpse. The rotted threads, almost sinking into the man's flesh, a sharp pain filling his golden palm. Once more, silence entered the occult ruin, before the head of the skeleton lurched forward. A skeletal palm shooting forth, and grasping onto the Delmars face. Pulling him back into the elden throne, his body sinking and falling through the crystalline structure… His body tugged downwards, a tightness about his lungs, as his golden eyes opened to view his new surroundings. He was drowning, being tugged to the depths of the ocean floor, and having nowhere to escape to. Dark waters surrounded him, the only spot of color, being the long vines of kelp that grew from the ocean floor as he struggled against the tides, attempting to gain some control and swim to the surface, yet it was all futile. After a few moments, he realized what had to be done, realized his purpose in being brought into those dark waters. He closed his eyes shut, his mouth parting open to let the water in, choking for air as the salt filled his lungs. Soon he saw white spots, a stinging pain filling his lungs, as he continued to descend down into the depths. These spots soon started to shine with a different light however, the white becoming gold, and the dark being replaced by shapes. The feeling of dampness soon left his body. His eyes shot open, a raspy cough erupting from his vocals, as he fell to the ground with a splash. His golden gaze stared down, focusing upon the ripples that distorted and shifted, revealing guidance to the still adjusting Adunian. The first to be revealed would be those dark oceans, those bodies he often had seen in the seas, the drowned who never fully departed from this realm. Bloated palms crawling towards the surface of the dark Rh’thoraen ocean, seeking escape and clemency from the dark depths. Yet none arrived, instead their knowledge remained buried, their endless life of undeath made worse by their aquatic surroundings. Yet soon their despair shifted, no longer did the screams or cries for help, but instead a song with all the fury of a warband. From the deads fury, arose a construct of flesh and wood, a thing of illdyic might. One that he guided in its making. Yet soon the dark waters shifted, tones of yellow slowly spilling from the occult construct, and soon washing away the image in the pool. The waters turned golden, and from the liquid mirror, did the coffers of treasure and fortune reveal themselves. Coins began to spill forward, descending down to form into a slope, the pile of wealth causing him to slowly rise up. With careful steps, he began to climb, his fists digging into the gold and gems. The precious gems and metal, flying in piles behind him, and yet, slowly did he rise up higher and higher. Coins slowly shifting to form golden steps, and jewels encrusting themselves into the stairs, a golden light showering upon him as he stumbled up the stairs of wealth. With every step, a new phrase was etched, and for every phrase did a mountain of knowledge imprint itself into his mind. His gaze flicked throughout the mass horde of wealth, and knowledge, searching and finding a new avenue and path. Yet none appeased him, none called out to him like the steps that truly rose before him, and so he climbed upwards. He rose higher and higher at a steady pace, yet nothing seemed to get him closer to the top. He continued to run upwards, until his feet gave out on him from the endless running, and forced him to crawl. Yet the crawl did not help either, even as he steadily pulled himself up another step, his palms were in far too much pain to continue helping him up. The corners of the gilded stairs, having long cut into his palms. So he sat there, gaze drifting now to the rippling pool of red, and it was in his own blood he saw it. Images of that scepter of old, and that long forgotten spirit, all was revealed within the Adunians bond and blood.”I will reclaim, what has been lost, Grandfather” His head slowly lifted, and for a moment he thought he could see that distant figure. Yet as he blinked, all he saw was the distant flight of a crow, the bird flying off into the night sky. Until a horrendous pain overtook his head, the Adunian went to scream, only for it to be caught in his throat. The flashing image of that many tendriled thing, seeming to open its cavernous maw around the Adunian, about to devour him. He felt horror overtake him, his body attempting to move, only for a thunderous pain to overtake his form. A look of horror spread on his face, as he felt his upper body topple to the side. Finally, a scream erupted from his throat, terror overtaking him as he attempted to lurch forward, to move at all… He awoke in a cold sweat, the one eyed clutching his head, as another migraine started to hammer away. He had awoken in the caves, his mind awash in confusion before he recounted the events of yesterday. He remembered then how he had awoken, and how swiftly after he had helped protect the beaches. He remembered how he had fought side by side with the others, and had fended off against the Mori on the beaches. How they had swiftly fell back, and exited once the tunnels had made their presence clear. Most importantly though, he knew how they currently resided in the abandoned caverns that the Mori had once occupied. A shudder ran down his spine, as he slowly stood up, the man leaving the cottage he had decided to occupy with a few others. His golden gaze, coming to look upwards at the ceiling. How long would it be, until they where once more within the light? Spoiler Hello, another fun post and rp kinda involving some things, wanted to jot it down and thought writing it in a forum would be fun. Anyways, enjoy and hope you all are having a good temp map. 3 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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