This topic is for posting short stories about your characters.  Perhaps this a story you would have told the othersd around a campfire, or a narrative that sherds light on some aspect of your back story.  Please post freely here, and enjoy some story telling.  NPCs, locations, items, etc that you describe here may show up in the actual game, so please feel free to create.

Please do not (significantly) involve other PCs in the stories without their consent/participation.

OOC - Can we use any tense we want?

The heat of the day beat down on the monastery. Nuawan spent the early afternoon in a meditative state as worked on focusing his newfound astral powers. It had the benefit of allowing him to ignore the unpleasantness of the summer weather. Nuawan took a deep breath and opened his eyes for the first time in hours. In front of him stood his mentor, Father Elod.

Nuawan bowed his head, "Father."

"Good afternoon, Nuawan," Father Elod replied.

"I assume I'm not interrupting your meditations."

"No. I am finished for the day."

"Did you have any breakthroughs?"

Nuawan sighed, "Not as such, no."

Elod chuckled, "You must have patience, Nuawan." He moved to a small table with chairs and sat in one. "Sit," Elod said.

Nuawan stood from his prayer mat and took a seat across the table from Elod, "Have I done something?"

Elod shook his head, "Of course not, Nuawan. I wanted to talk to you about how you came to be with us."

Nuawan had no memory of his life before the monastery. He had grown up amongst the monks, each acting as a mother or father to him. They taught him everything he knew and had done so with the patience and love of a parent. Nuawan was forever thankful, but also forever curious about where he came from. Were his parents still alive? Could he find them one day?

"Eighteen years ago you were brought to us," Elod said. "The person who gave you to us claimed not to be your parent and didn't provide us with any details on your parents. However, they did tell us about you and the curse of the black rose."

Nuawan's eyes widened and he felt his body tense. The curse was both well known and never talked about except in hushed tones by people hiding in the shadows.

"She told us that you were one of the children who were a target of the curse. While you are here, on consecrated grounds, you are... relatively protected. However, even the power of the monastery will eventually succumb to the curse."

"Then what will happen?"

Elod looked down for a moment and then shook his head, "Nobody knows. We've sent for help from every wizard, sorcerer, and cleric we could find. Even with our extensive research, we were unable to discover the curse's purpose or origin." Elod reached into a pocket in his robes and pulled a small box from it. The box easily fit in the palm of his hand. "The only clue we have is this," he placed the box on the table. "The woman who brought you here gave this to us. She couldn't say what was in the box or how to open it. She said that you would know."

Elod handed the box to Nuawan. He turned the box over in his hand. Each side had glyphs etched into it on all sides. However, there were no seams, no hinges, no way to tell how to open it. "I, uh, I have no idea what to do with this."

Elod nodded and closed Nuawan's hand around the box, "We believe that the information may be locked off in your brain. Meditate on it. Try to open it. Try to understand it. Above all, Nuawan, remember: patience."

Nuawan stared down at the box in his hand. "I will try, father."

Elod stood, "We will do all we can to help you. We fear that you may not be able to find the answers you need here with us. You may need to go out into the world."

Nuawan looked up in shock, "Am I to leave you?"

"One day, Nuawan. You have always known that. For now, focus on your meditations and we will let your discoveries guide your path." With that, Elon walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Walking sedately up the curved staircase, he waves long, thin fingers at a nearly invisible seam on the wall.  A red glow flares momentarily, then dims and dissipates into the ether.  Chuckling softly at the clumsy magical trap, he continues his steady pace.  The stairs are just slightly too short for his 8-foot tall frame.  He lifts up his pale orange robes to avoid stepping on the hem.  Coming to a large, reinforced metal door, he opens it with another wave of his fingers, revealing the bright, chaotic, pulsing light of an active portal.  A scrawny human male, stripped to the waist, stands just outside a painstakingly drawn summoning circle, gesturing wildly and shouting in the complex and cacophonous language of magic.  Noticing the stranger casually walking into his sanctum, the wizard’s eyes practically pop out of his head.  The figure takes a moment to examine the wards enclosing the circle, and gives the wizard a begrudging nod of respect.  The astounded human sputters, stumbling over one of the words of the summoning spell, and his shocked expression quickly turns to one of abject terror.  Turning back quickly to the shimmering, pulsating portal, the wizard quickly begins another spell, frantically casting as a huge, taloned hand reaches through the glowing aperture.

The robed figure shakes his head in disappointment as he casually brushes past the terrified wizard, dragging one foot through the meticulous chalk lines on the floor.  A horrifying creature of the lower planes crashes through the portal and instantly sees the smudged lines on the floor.  Stepping carefully around the robed figure, the ravenous demon charges through the compromised wards, grabbing hold of the wizard before he can finish his spell.  As the demon rips the unfortunate human into pieces, there is a massively powerful wrenching of the very fabric of reality, and the portal changes from a pulsating, chaotic blaze of light to a dark, jagged rent in space, pouring forth pure shadow into the room like smoke.  The robed figure steps calmly through the opening, which seals itself behind him.  The demon looks up from its meal to grin broadly at the retreating figure, its face and fangs covered in blood and flesh.

Pausing for a moment to adjust his body to a different set of physical laws, the robed figure continues down a dark, twisting corridor.  The hallway flickers and shifts several times under his feet.  At times he appears to be walking on the ceiling, other times on the walls, and sometimes he appears to be walking on nothing at all.  Through it all, his calm, steady pace never changes.  The end of the corridor opens into a large, spacious room, mostly devoid of furniture or decoration.  This space is filled with a pervasive feeling of emptiness and void.  Several large obelisks are placed seemingly randomly around the space, and a small pile of dark grey cloth sits in one corner, apparently abandoned there.  It is to this pile that he directs his words.

”Hello, mistress.  I have news.”  The feeling of emptiness shifts into one of mild amusement.  A brief look of frustration passes over the figures’ unusual features.  His thick, white mustaches raise slightly, and his large, ridged forehead lowers into a scowl.  The expression is gone almost instantly.  He turns around to see a shadowy, humanoid creature step through one of the obelisks, somehow seeming to slide in between realities to stand before him.  Sound now fills both the room and his head.  In all his centuries of service, he has never known whether the sound in the room, or the sound in his head is real.  ”Interesting…” says a feminine voice, somehow both musical and tuneless, quiet as a whisper, yet powerful enough to drown out all other sound.  ”You have news… about the pact.  Something has happened.  What has it been, three hundred years since the pact was agreed?”  He does not answer.  The question was rhetorical.  His mistress knows precisely how long it has been.  ”She is bending the rules, isn’t she?  We knew this would happen.  She cannot help herself.  It is her nature.”

”She has been helping her side directly, aiding them in their search,”  He waits patiently, knowing what is coming next.  ”We must maintain the balance.  The other side is almost in place, though they do not know it.”  A moment’s pause, then she continues. ”Activate the lure.”  ”Very well, mistress, it will be done.”  With a respectful bow, the robed figure turns and walks from the room.  Tuning his mind to the multidimensional flow of ether, he begins searching for the telltale signs of a portal being created.  Perhaps the next summoner will react more professionally when an unexpected guest arrives, but no matter.  He must get back to the material plane, to enact his mistress’ wishes.  After a long wait, things are about to get interesting again.

It hadn't been quiet like this in quite some time. Usually an occasional branch would crack, the wind would melody through whatever leaves were left on the trees...something would cry out in an area so somber and still that it was still alive.

Milisent was only away from her creator a short time before Alleyn approached. The day was young and idle prior to their paths crossing before catching one another's eye. Milisent was drawn immediately, a common connection between him she couldn't explain outside of curiosity and fear.

Alleyn, starting his day only moments earlier rustled through the hall looking for a new adventure. "A day spent idle is time in the hands of evil", a voice whispered through his head. Out of all the opportunities Alleyn could have possibly imagined occupying his time, the cold black mystery of Milisent's eyes hadn't ever crossed his imagination.

"A picnic?", Allyn asked.

"I'm sorry?", replied Milisent.

"The basket?", snarked Allyn.

Milisent had hardly noticed the basket of food hanging from her left arm. All of the things for a delightful afternoon; Jam, bread, Cheese, and the finest chocolates from Madam Uschi. As sinfully delectable as the sinners that made them.

"I suppose I am...off to a picnic", blushed Milisent feeling compelled to answer.

"All to yourself?" Allyn asked looking directly into the black abyss that was the gravity of her eyes.

"Well, I supposed I could use some company. It would seem that I have more than enough food and it would be a shame to waste such a beautiful day alone." Milisent replied.

The two smiled and paused before making their way down the corridor and outside of the grounds on their way to the forest.

The journey was quiet and seemingly lock step as both made their way to a sunny clearing amongst the overgrowth of trees.

"DILLON...!", a screamed out from a place of panic and fear.

The basket of food seemed to pull back its cloth magically as the food presented a delightful afternoon of flavor and euphoria as the tension calmed.

"Do you enjoy raspberry jam on your bre...", Milisent was interrupted by another burst, "DILLONNNN....!"

It was time to wrap things up. Time alone was never a privilege for the children of the rose.

Milisent was beautiful, maybe the best so far. Allyn, a couple patches of animal fur glued to a stick.

Allyn tried to comfort Milisent from the shocking sound and the discomfort brought from the sudden disturbance in the peace occupying the forest. Right as a calm seemed to sweep among the trees another burst of sound,

"DILLON.....MADELEINES!!!!"

Milisent's head snapped back 170 degrees breaking her neck and leaving her head a bobble atop a limp statue. Allyn only looked for a moment of quick horror before he was separated at the torso by a twisting force so sharp he could only realize that his face was buried in the dirt.

A couple of quick moments later Milisent and Allyn laid mangled beneath the leaves and the dirt that occupied their picnic, an end that had repeated itself time and time again.

"DILLLLLOOOONNNN....!"

"I FUCKING HEAR YOU!", interrupted Dillon. Kneeling up from the freshly rearranged leaves, Dillon moved himself towards the voice seeking his attention.

Never a moment. Rarely an escape. Not for the children of the rose.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:30, Thu 09 Mar 2023.