Consciousness first returns in the form of awareness.

Awareness that your eyes are closed, for example.

Awareness that your are laying with your back pressed against...something. Something hard, smooth, and not at all comfortable.

Of a gentle breeze caressing your hair, and of the carefree song of distant birds.

Of a light shining over your face, unseen but betrayed by the ruddy hue threatening to overtake the comfortable, velvety blackness of the private world that exists behind your eyelids.

Of a damp, surprisingly heavy lump sitting on your chest. It hops off the moment it's noticed, though the action is somehow tinged with apathy.

The memories come next.

They come as a trickle at first -- names, faces, places -- before transforming into a cascading waterfall of emotions, knowledge, and experiences that threatens to overwhelm the senses you've only just managed to regain.

Your eyes snap open as you gasp reflexively, and painfully bright light blinds you: Sunlight, set against a cerulean sky.

***

Boreas, Keef, Auriel, Lyriel, Maeve, and Finwe awaken at roughly the same time, rising painfully to their feet in order to survey that world around them. Sehkmet preens herself nearby, with Chubbs seated impassively upon her flank.

The PARTY's weapons, armor, and equipment are notably absent, replaced by homespun robes and simple sandals. Those with arcane or divine talents still find themselves unable to make use of them. Notably, Boreas's prismatic eye is missing, replaced by a normal eye (though its bright green iris is at odds with the hue of its twin).

The PARTY finds itself upon a large stone slab that looks like the ground of a cave, though there is neither roof nor walls to support the image. Grassland extends from the slab in all directions, becoming wild and overgrown as it extends toward light forest to the east, west, and north.

A mountain range can be seen off to north, beyond the woods, and the PARTY becomes aware that they are nestled atop a moderately sized hill, which provides ample vision into the lowlands extending southward, opposite the mountains.

Thatched roofs can bee see among the lowlands, and the PARTY soon discerns an entire village punctuated with fenced-off fields and well-worn dirt roads.

If its population is aware of the PARTY's presence, they hide it well.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:50, Thu 22 Dec 2016.

Auriel struggles to his feet, wincing as feeling returns to his limbs. He stretches out his hand, gathering his will to summon his faithful steed, but found himself unable to draw on his connection to the divine.

Wistfully, he lowered his hand, feeling a sense of loss.

Unsure whether he was alive or dead, he decided that either way, it was a good idea to meet the neighbors, and thus set off for the village.

Maeve rises shakily, taking in her new surroundings, the P.A.R.T.Y's new duds, and Boreas' new eye with no small amount of bewilderment.  She feels naked to be without a weapon for the first time in. . .well, as long as she can remember.

"Are. . .are we dead?" she asks of everyone and nobody, giving herself a sharp pinch.  If they are, she thinks, this afterlife has nothing on the Gaelian version, with its 72 buff young men who fan her with palm leaves and provide her with iced coffee drinks for all eternity.

Regardless, there are certainly no answers to be found standing here.  She decides to follow Auriel to the town.

In reply to Auriel (msg # 2):

I.. no... not in the corporeal sense...

Keef spends a moment spinning around and waving his hands experimentally.

But yes.  Very much so.

Having seen much more impressive newly-created expanses of realm before, Chubbs is not intrigued enough to bother opening his eyes.

In reply to Keef (msg # 4):

Finwe follows the others, as mystified about their present circumstances as the rest.

"How can this place exist?" he murmurs. "And who are these people?"

***

Any who wish it can easily travel down the worn path, passing over the rolling meadows before entering the town itself. The villagers are nowhere to be seen as you approach.

There are little trapping or adornments to be seen among the simple houses, and the road eventually leads the PARTY to the town square. A communal barn sits off to one side of the square, with a stable situated nearby. The road continues beyond the square toward what appears to be stalls for a blacksmith, tanner, and miller.

On the other side of the square, a single building seems to serve as both the town's hall and courthouse, and while there is no jail to be seen, there are four sets of stocks situated at equal intervals around the square itself.

A pool of water sits in the center of the square -- perhaps once a fountain, though its deep blue waters now lie stagnant.

The last building in the square is a humble wooden structure with the word SHRINE carved into the facade above the entryway.

"Ah. The sleepers have awakened."

A man wearing simple clothing steps forth from the town hall, the first person you've seen since entering the village proper, and walks over toward them.

"You are welcome here, and have nothing to fear from us, friends," he begins, looking at them doubtfully. "But you have arrived under inauspicious portents. In a gout of blackened flames, as it were."

He gestures to the stagnant pool.

"In this very spot, from this shallow pool, you burst to the surface as though you'd been beneath it all along. Some swear the sky winked out the moment you arrived, unable to abide your presence."

The man breathes deeply and gestures to the beautiful, cloudless sky.

"But even the skeptics have to admit that it seems to have forgiven you."

He remains quiet for a time, looking at each member of the PARTY in turn.

"They said we would be spared, before they left," he continues, his voice soft. "I know that you have come from...outside. From beyond. And I am hoping against hope that you have not come to correct the oversight that is our existence."
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:22, Thu 22 Dec 2016.

And what existence is that, exactly? Lyriel asks curiously. Where are we?

Boreas says nothing, taking everything in.  He nods.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 7):

"That's a more complicated question than you realize," the man replies. "In fact, it is one that we were hoping you could answer for us."

He looks carefully at the PARTY.

"Perhaps I made some assumptions I shouldn't have when you first arrived, naked and steaming, in our village square. Allow me to fill you in."

"Everyone here -- with the exception of you -- was brought here before...the end. I was there, as were the others, when the oceans turned to churning lava. When the heavens and the hells and everything in between them merged into a patchwork of chaos and destruction. I saw the stars wink out, and I feared the worst."

His expression is both grim and haunted, his eyes alight with the look of a person who has loved and lost.

"But I was saved. All of us were, though by different hands. Some mention a blonde-haired woman, who rode upon an enormous wildcat with a saddle large enough to handle several passengers at once."

"Others say they were brought here by a fair-skinned woman whose eyes looked always on the brink of tears. Or by a raven-haired man with a lined but youthful face. Or a dirty-blonde-haired woman with glasses and eagle-like wings."

"I myself was cowering in the ruins of my home, cradling the body of my wife, when a man with fiery red hair and a powerful expression took me by the shoulder and...moved me."

"This land was scoured when we arrived. Burned, scorched, and ruined, though overgrown with natural resources. Everything except for this pool, which served as the entrance and exit point for those who continued to bolster our ranks. We could see the horrible nightmare in the sky, but it seemed distant and indistinct. Dreamlike. Held at bay. Slowed."

"We were told that we had nothing to fear, so long as none among us touched the pool's waters. And to a man, we obeyed this command. We obey it still."

"We prayed our respite would endure, and set to work building a life for ourselves here. And every day, more people would arrive village. If there was rhyme or reason, we could not discern it. We have here a mixture of humans and elves of all types. There are even dwarves, gnomes, and minotaur. Citizens from all countries, in roughly equal numbers, and though there are those who once served the gods here, none now do. We...simply cannot praise a pantheon that could allow such destruction."

The man stares at the stagnant pool wistfully.

"It couldn't last, no matter how much differently the red-haired man had managed to make time move here relative to the rest of creation. We knew that whatever horror has been unleashed upon our home would eventually exact its toll on us, as well."

"One day, the raven-haired man stopped coming. Then, the blonde returned with terrible burns across her face and body, leaning upon the shoulder of the man she had brought here for support. The next time she entered the pool, her wildcat returned without her, carrying three survivors on its back. It stayed just long enough to deposit them, then bolted back through the waters with a fearsome roar. We never saw it or its mistress again."

"The woman with the sad eyes was the next to go, but she told as as much before stepping through the pool. 'I will spend what moments remain easing the pain of my people,' she said. The winged one soon followed."

"Eventually, the fiery-haired man -- who seemed to be their coordinator, if not their leader -- was the only one making deliveries. He made several a day, looking increasingly haggard each time. Tensions rose, and the stocks were built. We were grateful for the time we'd been given, but it looked as though there was no time left to be purchased."

"One day, when the tear in the sky was as bright and terrible as we had ever seen it, the fiery-haired man gathered the village together at this very spot. He said he had done all he could do, and that our fate was now outside his hands."

The man paused, wiping an errant tear from his eyes.

"He... knew he was going to die. They all did, though they never said it. They didn't even tell us their names, as though such a trifling thing was inconsequential to their work. But they saved us all."

He looks up from the pool and addresses the PARTY directly.

"The last thing that man said to us, with the whole village gathered, was this. That the last day had arrived. That his spell could ward off the apocalypse no longer. He urged us to spend the day at leisure, and told us that if morning should somehow dawn the following day, we would have well and truly survived."

"If that were to occur, he cautioned, we should expect to be visited by a small group of new survivors not long afterward. They would be the last to ever arrive, and after them, no more would follow."

The man lowers his voice.

"He said they were mighty in word and deed. That they wielded power beyond mortal ken. That with the gods dead, they would be compelled to up the mantle of balance. He emphasized that word above all others. And he finished with a single request: That we tell that group, if they should ever arrive, that they should 'drink from the soul well'."

He looks hopefully at the PARTY, and you can see that the village square is now packed with villagers who had trickled in during the man's story.

"He swore the newcomers -- the last survivors -- would know what we meant. He said they would know what to do next."

"The man -- the Red One -- stayed on this side after that, channeling powerful magics at the pool without respite. After urging us to take our leisure, we could see that his plan for the Last Day involving withering away before our eyes. But as he maintained the pool, additional survivors kept coming through."

"No one slept that night. How could you, when it could be your last? And we all vividly recall the moment when, in the dead of the night, the Red One cried out. It was a primal sound I hope to never again hear, filled with rage and anguish and pain...but also determination. A hint of triumph."

"The pool's churning waters surged with an unbelievable light, which channeled backward into the Red One with such fury that most averted their eyes at the sight of it. And after that, silence reigned. The pool had become as still and stagnant as you now see it, and the Red One lay dead nearby. He is interred in the Shrine, which we erected as a memorial to him and to his allies, who sacrificed themselves for our survival."

The villagers are utterly silent, gauging the PARTY's reaction to the tale...and anxiously awaiting the answer to their savior's riddle.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:59, Fri 06 Jan 2017.

Auriel's face grew pale as the stranger told his tale. Every sentence drove the enormity of the loss home. By the end, tears were openly streaming down his face.

Choso, Cassie, Mahmout, Liora...Selena. They can't be gone. I refuse to accept that.

When the talk turns to the soul well, his face grew darker still. "Aye. We know of what he speaks, but I'm not convinced he fully understood what he asks of us. Did he say anything else?"

In reply to Auriel (msg # 9):

"I cannot speak to whether or not he fully understood the request he was making," the man replies, scratching his cheek absently. "He seemed to know what he was doing, though. They all did. They had a sense of purpose about them."

He frowns, lost in thought.

"The only other thing he mentioned was something about you and the others -- if you were to arrive -- needing to 'give the people something to believe in'. Does that provide any clarity?"

"It does. On multiple levels."

Auriel looks off into the distance, his golden eyes unfocused. "There's no time to lose then. Is this the well of souls he referred to?" he asks, pointing at the well, "Or is there another, untainted font."

In reply to Auriel (msg # 11):

"This is the only pool of this size and hue in the realm," the man says after a moment. "There is a river, which is sourced from the mountains and runs past the fields before emptying out into a bay, but otherwise we have found no other water."