Bacon is fluffy
Wut'n th'name of davy jonez lockr is uh sall-add?
Billowing storm clouds coalesced from the sea, black as coal and thick as dragon's hide. The sun was all but blotted out from the sky. Perpetual darkness washed over the town of St. Coraline, threatening to devour all within, even the light itself. Harsh winds ripped from the east, howling with pangs of despair. The city of light and historically the vanguard against the world’s evils, was little more than a dissipating ember.
A friar named Father Carlos, revered amongst the common folk as the voice of reason, lead the charge against unfettered chaos. Against unprecedented plague and rampant famine.
Father Carlos twitched as his finger tips met his silk blinds, revealing a port town set ablaze. His brow furrowed and fist slammed into his work bench. His arm began running across the table and clearing all in its wake. Vials of god knows what shattered upon the stained marble floor, releasing an pungent odor that caused his eyes to water.
" What be this madness? what queer quandary hath befallen thee, light of AMON"?
The sullen man reached forth, imagining the waning light in the palm of his hand. The torch burned with great intensity, the kindle he fed roared as if it were to jump out at him, any moment now. Yet he could not feel its warmth, as the cold crept into his chambers. Though it raged on, he couldn’t he see the its intensity as the darkness seemingly devoured his roaring flame. He swung his hands around the fire, cautiously at first, trying to sweep away the encroaching darkness.
He grabbed, yanked, and roared at nothing. " What be you? HUH, WHAT BE YOU FOUL DEMON"? Reckless abandon crept into his soul as threw his fist into the flame itself, only to feel an encroaching chill sprint up his forearm.Hos eyes bulged as he muttered incomprehensible nonsense to the lay man. With a thunderous thrust, he slammed his staff into the floor, causing a wave of light to sweep across the room, leading into the church's main chamber. He looked about, glaring at the darkness, trying to stave the maddening sound of flesh being ripped apart. The pain stricken screams of his followers, the wailing of a desperate mother and the sound of flesh being rendered. Father Carlos felt the tears coursing down his pale cheeks. He rushed forth and met what wasn’t left of his case congregation.
Father carlos strode down the aisle with a perpetual scowl written upon his face. Among him, were the stricken. The plaguewalkers as others had called them. Heaving up blood, meekly crying out to their priest, some with their loved ones fading before their very eyes. He pretended to hear none of their cries, stained with all the concoctions he could muster in a short amount of time, crimson like the very fire he sought the warmth of.
Awaiting him at the alter was his son,stricken with the ailment which had befallen their people. He looked at his father, cautious but with a warmth that only a loyal child might give their parent. A breeze swept across the chamber, a stark contrast indeed, soft and alluring. A shiver traveled up his spine and goosebumps assailed him.
His boy weakly reached out to his father, the light slowly fading from his eyes. He gurgled and grunted, struggling to even keep his eyes open....
The father looked down upon the boy, as he imagined his wife’s life fading before his eyes many years ago. His gaze did not move from the dying boy and his fingers gripped the staff until they bled." Yes... it all makes sense now. Lord Amon, our father and progener of the light”.
—-
This is a pitch I tried a while ago on a different forum and wanted to try once more. I intend on creating a dark high fantasy world based on player applications. The goal is simple: to leave bread crumbs for the players in order for them to bring resolution to the situation.
Fantasy - Into the east ooc
Fantasy - Into the East characters
A friar named Father Carlos, revered amongst the common folk as the voice of reason, lead the charge against unfettered chaos. Against unprecedented plague and rampant famine.
Father Carlos twitched as his finger tips met his silk blinds, revealing a port town set ablaze. His brow furrowed and fist slammed into his work bench. His arm began running across the table and clearing all in its wake. Vials of god knows what shattered upon the stained marble floor, releasing an pungent odor that caused his eyes to water.
" What be this madness? what queer quandary hath befallen thee, light of AMON"?
The sullen man reached forth, imagining the waning light in the palm of his hand. The torch burned with great intensity, the kindle he fed roared as if it were to jump out at him, any moment now. Yet he could not feel its warmth, as the cold crept into his chambers. Though it raged on, he couldn’t he see the its intensity as the darkness seemingly devoured his roaring flame. He swung his hands around the fire, cautiously at first, trying to sweep away the encroaching darkness.
He grabbed, yanked, and roared at nothing. " What be you? HUH, WHAT BE YOU FOUL DEMON"? Reckless abandon crept into his soul as threw his fist into the flame itself, only to feel an encroaching chill sprint up his forearm.Hos eyes bulged as he muttered incomprehensible nonsense to the lay man. With a thunderous thrust, he slammed his staff into the floor, causing a wave of light to sweep across the room, leading into the church's main chamber. He looked about, glaring at the darkness, trying to stave the maddening sound of flesh being ripped apart. The pain stricken screams of his followers, the wailing of a desperate mother and the sound of flesh being rendered. Father Carlos felt the tears coursing down his pale cheeks. He rushed forth and met what wasn’t left of his case congregation.
Father carlos strode down the aisle with a perpetual scowl written upon his face. Among him, were the stricken. The plaguewalkers as others had called them. Heaving up blood, meekly crying out to their priest, some with their loved ones fading before their very eyes. He pretended to hear none of their cries, stained with all the concoctions he could muster in a short amount of time, crimson like the very fire he sought the warmth of.
Awaiting him at the alter was his son,stricken with the ailment which had befallen their people. He looked at his father, cautious but with a warmth that only a loyal child might give their parent. A breeze swept across the chamber, a stark contrast indeed, soft and alluring. A shiver traveled up his spine and goosebumps assailed him.
His boy weakly reached out to his father, the light slowly fading from his eyes. He gurgled and grunted, struggling to even keep his eyes open....
The father looked down upon the boy, as he imagined his wife’s life fading before his eyes many years ago. His gaze did not move from the dying boy and his fingers gripped the staff until they bled." Yes... it all makes sense now. Lord Amon, our father and progener of the light”.
—-
This is a pitch I tried a while ago on a different forum and wanted to try once more. I intend on creating a dark high fantasy world based on player applications. The goal is simple: to leave bread crumbs for the players in order for them to bring resolution to the situation.
Fantasy - Into the east ooc
Fantasy - Into the East characters
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