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The Spirits Rise...

Lore, history and other content by the citizens of Underlight preserved for posterity.
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-Lacie-
Protectors of Radiance
Posts: 325
Joined: Fri Apr 15, 2016 1:23 pm
Character Name(s): Purple Lace, etal
Location: Huntsville, AL
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The Spirits Rise...

Post by -Lacie- » Thu Oct 24, 2019 7:03 pm

I can feel it coming.... in the Air tonite. Quiet like the fog, thick as well. Silently it encroaches, as if a breath exhaled would disturb it enough to actually be Seen.

I can smell it coming.... in the dreamers around me, both near... and far. The taste of Fear and Terror waxes over them. Tis like sauce for the goose for m'tastebuds. I will have to feed again ... soon.

I can hear it coming... with every portal passed thru. I can touch a portal and nearly determine how many have passed thru it recently.

I can See it coming... with every groan and Quake extruded. I See ripples upon ripples, pain upon pain, then Light over... Darkness. The Eternal Shadow. I See the path it Illuminates, but the FreeSoul in me wants to look in an opposite direction. That may not be possible at this point.

The ritual must be held, in public... and with brave souls.

The Spirits rise.

~Lacie~
Ruler of the Radiant
Screchethan Kabal
~Lacie~
Screchethan Kabal

No way to slow down...
User avatar
-Lacie-
Protectors of Radiance
Posts: 325
Joined: Fri Apr 15, 2016 1:23 pm
Character Name(s): Purple Lace, etal
Location: Huntsville, AL
Contact:

In the Air Tonite...

Post by -Lacie- » Mon Nov 18, 2019 3:49 pm

(The prelude for this piece is "The Spirit Rises...")

"Perpetual Motion - a state in which movement or action is, or appears to be, continuous and unceasing. Or, the motion of a hypothetical device which, once activated, would run forever, unless subject to an external force or to wear."

Counterbalance.

I am no Ideoclasian, but I have put together enough pieces to relay what might be close to their final historical moments.

She flips to the very first page of her very first journal and reads the entry.


FORWARD

I scribe this not for you, the pettiness of your minds, nor for the understanding of your dreams, but to give you a glimpse of what can be, if you let your mind ... your imagination take flight.

* * * * *

I shall tell the tale of a land far away ... a City of Dreams, where anything within the limits of the mind becomes a reality.

This land began humbly enough, by a handful of personages who were entirely too intelligent for their own good. They traveled for what seemed an eternity, until they happened upon each other. Between them, a single wish... a realm where Dreams become a reality... of sorts.

Their original thoughts collided, and what is referred to as the The Courtyard of Awakening, Threshold, and the Citadel had been created.

They were not content; they wanted more, so they increased their numbers and educated themselves. Proud of their efforts, they deemed themselves...... DreamWrights.

Together with the new souls that had been begged, summoned, or accidentally bumped into the Realm, the DreamWrights expanded this Realm consistently, practically, and with little opposition.

The annals of history will not specify as to which of these expanding molders, these ... DreamWrights, conceived the thought first. Conceived it was though, and soon became part of this reality.

An expansion of its own, this single thought of a bad dream, a NightMare was born. The 'Mares crept in through the slightest of imperfections in the DreamScape, small numbers at first, but quickly grew. They took form, dark and skeletal, and learned to traverse through Realm, creeping into our Dreams....

*Entering DreamState*


So, as close as I can tell, too much was held at once, overloading the system and spinning it, wildly out of control. The only thing that stopped that .... perpetual motion... was the Lyran City, and the Lightless Hollow.

The Spirit Rises. I can smell it... in the Air tonite. We are spiraling again. Much power has been spread around. The City shakes while a daemon wears a Crown which makes it .... equal. A soulless man with armor from the gold of another hand takes what he wishes. An entity without form is given substance. Scraps and pieces sewn together in hopes of durability for something which should never take form again.

Perpetual Motion. Ring the bell again. Perform the ritual. Kiss your loved ones.

Brace yourselves & fill your pockets.

Impact inevitable.

~Lacie~
Ruler of the Radiant
Screchethan Kabal
~Lacie~
Screchethan Kabal

No way to slow down...
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