Fantasy Terrorchild: Awakening

[Breadman]

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[hardcore.munchkin]

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[turtwigwins]

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[Infab]

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[asphodelus]

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[dikdik]

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[joshuadim]

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[Damian0358]

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[K0mori]

2. Change Course - You know that this isn't going to turn out well unless you can alter your perception of time - the way it occurred when Syrith ripped your soul out.

You stand up off the bed, your disappointment with the reality of the situation obvious on your face. "Alright," you say. "I'm satisfied."

Embryx hands Jannava her wand back. "See you around, sister," she says as the two of you exit the room, leaving the tiefling confused and concerned.

"I hope it was a help..." you hear her say as you descend the stairs and exit back out onto the street, but you're too concentrated on the mystery surrounding your prior experience to spare any thoughts for the woman. Outside, you find the streets even more wet, cold, and miserable than when you went in, and you pause for a moment to think.

Embryx steps up beside you and sighs. "So we really came all the way down here for nothing?" she asks.

"Don't pretend you were on my side on this one," you reply hotly. "We're obviously not going to be doing any exploration of the next world, anytime soon. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Embryx puts her hands up halfway and gives a quiet laugh. "Take it easy. I just don't want you to do anything stupid."

"Whatever," you say, and begin to trudge back up the road the way you came. Embryx follows up behind you, a bit reluctant to accompany you while you're in this foul of a mood, but she does nonetheless. "I just don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do," you continue ranting. "All of this was supposed to help me get my sister back, but all I ever do is run errands for Diala. How many people am I supposed to hurt, or kill, or scare the shit out of until I get any closer to what I want!?"

By this point, Embryx has stopped and is motioning at you frantically to lower your voice and calm down. You stop and quickly check over your shoulder, your blood running cold for an instant. Thankfully, of the few people who are out in the streets braving the weather, none seem to have heard your words or paid them any mind. You turn back to find Embryx has stepped up close and is now staring down at you. "Agranne," she says, fiercely. "We'll figure this out, I promise. Just keep your head, alright?"

You take a deep breath and nod.

---​

As you reach the road that circles around the castle wall again, your mood hasn't improved much, but at least your anger has faded enough that you can concentrate on finding solutions. The problem is that you can't identify what type of magic could affect one's perception so dramatically as what had occurred to you, so you don't even know what type of expert to consult. You suspect it would be a form of manipulation that goes beyond emotions and into the realm of sensation, but you still can't actually be sure if it was only perception which changed, or if the Eldest actually slowed or stopped time for real.

Overwhelmed, you're actually relieved when Embryx asks an unrelated question.

"So," she says, "...what was Rigatte like, anyway? I know the story, you know, about how she came back for you, and what the hunters did. And I know what you said happened when you saw her again. But like, why did she do all that? Were you two really close?"

You slow down and stop, looking up from the stones in the road and sighing. "...She taught me a lot of things. Mom and dad were always busy taking care of the crop or the house and my little siblings. It was a lot for them, so Rigatte kind of took it upon herself to make sure someone was showing me how to do things like writing my name, counting coins, whistling... But she also used to sit with me outside when I couldn't sleep and she'd just let me talk to her when I needed to. We had this old neighbor; his name was Tewen. And he was..."

You pause mid-sentence, feeling a sudden weight that had been neatly packed away in your chest for a long time suddenly dislodge and tumble through you. "...He was such a nice man, like you wouldn't believe. He stepped in a few times when our father was sick, and he did all the work like he was half his own age, just because he needed to be. And he was so polite to my mother and us kids. And- and one day," you say, suddenly breaking into tears, "a mule wandered onto his property, and when he went to gather it up it reared back and kicked him, and he just fell down and died right there on the spot. That's it - no goodbye to his wife, no last words at all. And my father was the one who found him, and before he knew what was happening, I came wandering up with two of my little brothers and got a look at him, and I - I knew what was happening, somehow, but my brothers didn't. And I couldn't tell them. I couldn't-" you stammer out.

You hide your face from Embryx, not wanting her to see you like this, although you know she's standing there wide-eyed at the sudden outpouring. "...I couldn't sleep for days after Tewen died. I just kept sitting outside against and reliving it, and every time, Rigatte came outside to sit with me and listen. She wasn't that much older than me, but she was so much... more than I was. She understood things. And she... She made me feel like I could be okay with everything."

A moment later, Embryx's arms encircle you, and she holds you tight, despite the cold and the rain, until you're ready to move on.

---
​

You arrive back at the sanitarium in the early afternoon, hungry for lunch, but also feeling an emotional exhaustion that tempts you to crawl up in bed. Letting yourselves in to the old school side using a key that Diala gave you, Embryx excuses herself to her room so that she can change into some clean and dry clothing, but she offers to meet you again in the dining room. You're mostly dry, aside from your shoes, and so you're not in an immediate need to go anywhere.

1. Your Room - You decide that food can wait while you go and have a good nap in your bed. Who knows, you might get some inspiration from your dreams that could help you in your quest for answers. You can leave a note outside your door for Embryx to wake you when she deems it necessary.

2. Dining Room - By now, most of the other witches have probably already had their lunch, but you might still catch a few getting in their last bites. You figure that they might have some advice on where to go and who to talk to about the issue of time.

3. The Study - The key that Diala gave you also unlocks the school's study. At midday like this, there'd be no reason for Diala or anyone else to be prowling around in there, and you've seen some pretty interesting-looking books and instruments laying around. Maybe one of them could be a help?

4. Diala - You're tired of running from the headmistress. You have one more night in town before you have to set off on another mission to intimidate her enemies, but for the time being you have questions that you think she could answer. You immediately set out for her quarters at the top of the stairs.

 

[Infab]

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[joshuadim]

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[hardcore.munchkin]

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[Breadman]

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[dikdik]

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[Damian0358]

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[asphodelus]

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[K0mori]

3. The Study - The key that Diala gave you also unlocks the school's study. At midday like this, there'd be no reason for Diala or anyone else to be prowling around in there, and you've seen some pretty interesting-looking books and instruments laying around. Maybe one of them could be a help?

You head down the hall toward the dining room, but pass it by in favor of the unremarkable door into the study. As you near it, you get a sense that you shouldn't be snooping around, despite the fact that Diala has never told you not to. You hesitate, listening closely to distant sounds - creaking floorboards and muffled voices behind walls. What if, for whatever reason, the elder sister is in the study, and you come barging in?

You sigh, steeling your nerves, and put the key in the lock. With a turn, it gives a loud clunk and the heavy door sags inward under its own weight, revealing the tunnel-like room. Not wanting to be seen, you quickly step inside and push the door closed behind you, sealing yourself up in the shadows. It's dark as pitch inside, just like death.

You're frozen there for a moment, until you remember how you you're actively seeking a passage into that place. Annoyed with yourself and your childish fears, you quickly summon up a mote of enchanted flame, which flickers in the air as a guiding light until you can find a candle to affix it to.

It isn't long until you've created enough light that you can navigate safely around the dusty room. There's a faint smell of rot in the air, moreso than usual for the sanitarium, and you recall the sisters here mentioning something about worms that eat the pages of old books. Although you know your letters, and you can muddle your way through pages of text if you're determined, you never had the privilege to learn how to read fluently like Diala and some of the other pact sisters can.

Along with the book shelves are multiple cabinets full of oddities: tools for divination, dolls made of sack cloth, assorted bones and teeth, and other things you can't identify. Among them is a small, brass hourglass, which you take out and examine. The grains inside are quite coarse, and the opening is wide; it wouldn't be a very long timer, which is perfect for someone trying to record events which happen in very small time-frames. You put it into your pocket.

Next, you move on to the bookshelf, which is considerably more daunting. The books are mostly old journals kept by witches who lived around Mardenaal over the last century, and so the spines aren't given any label. You hold a candle up close, taking note of the age and condition of each as you move along.

Whatever you pick up, you realize you'll probably want to skip to the end, as the owner would have likely been thinking of the end of their life at the time of writing.

1. Aged Journal - You find an old brown leather-bound one which was probably carried for many years before finding a place in the sanitarium. You certainly hope that would mean the owner died at some old age, with plenty of insight about death and their future beyond.

2. Expensive Journal - Your eyes gravitate toward a very finely-crafted journal, with red velvet stitched into the cover and fine golden thread piping. Whoever owned this lived in a high station of society - perhaps a noble or a rich merchant? You hope that they would be as greedy about escaping the end as they were about the rest of their life.

3. That One - You spot a book that seems strangely dark, as if it were held to flames. As you reach out to touch it, an inexplicable chill flows through the room.

 

[joshuadim]

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[Infab]

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[Breadman]

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[hardcore.munchkin]

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[bat_hacker]

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[Damian0358]

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[K0mori]

3. That One - You spot a book that seems strangely dark, as if it were held to flames. As you reach out to touch it, an inexplicable chill flows through the room.

You pause. That feeling couldn't have been your imagination - just like the times you felt Rigatte's presence in the past, you feel something now, drawing you in toward the book and whispering in your ear: "that one." It isn't Rigatte, though; whatever it is, it makes you feel as if you're standing at the edge of a very sharp drop, with your toes hanging off the edge. This doesn't feel right at all. And yet, you can't stop yourself from grabbing it and pulling it free from the shelf.

You sit down, cross-legged on the floor with your flickering candle, and place the book before it so that it would cast its light down on the pages. You pull away the ribbon holding the cover shut tight and gingerly open the crumbling jacket to reveal pages that seem very old and degraded. And yet, the writing inside is still perfectly legible. You take your time and read the letters of the first line, sounding out the words in your head before speaking them aloud to yourself in a hushed voice:

"Ask of your reflection: is my shadow fed and sated?"

The room grows colder by the moment as the few candles you've lit begin to flicker and die, leaving only the one which sits before you, like a spotlight on the book you've found and your trembling hands.

Turn the page...

Your ear twitches, as if someone whispered in it again. What is this? Is this book haunted? Is it some kind of trap!? But no matter how unsettling the moment, you can't seem to change course. Your hands move on their own, obeying this outsider's suggestions until you've turned the page and revealed a glyph, scrawled onto the paper by a mind unwell, and all at once you feel dizzy and sick, just from looking at it. You want to look away, and you want to close the book immediately, but again your hands disobey you and flip the page again, revealing a different and yet equally vertigo-inducing sigil, causing you to wretch and gag.

"Is my shadow fed and sated?" you ask, as if compelled at the end of Diala's wand, but there's no one here to torment you.

Nothing but this book.

"Is my shadow fed and sated? Is my shadow fed and sated? Is my shadow fed and sated?"

You can't breathe. Your lungs push against the air, trying to expel the words - just as your stomach would vomit up a poison - involuntarily and full of agony. But this hex that's taken hold of you seems impossible to resist, and your vision begins to blur. The candle before you becomes two, and then three, the same as the pages below, which only multiply in their profanity as you automatically turn the pages and chant the wicked refrain.

"Is my shadow fed and sated is my shadow fed and sated is my shadow..."

Everything is fading now. Whatever horrible thing that's crawled into your mind and body is starving you of air and denying you any path of escape. You're going to die soon to whatever this is and you won't even know how it happened. You plead the question several more times with your sputtering, failing breath, when suddenly:

"Not at all."

You rear back and take in a long and desperate gasp of air before clutching your throbbing head. Your fear is gone, replaced with sickly joy and liberation. You're free, and you're never, ever, going back, you think as you slam the book shut, silencing the whimper that's drifting in the air behind your ears, almost too quiet to perceive and much too quiet to pay any mind to.

What the fuck is happening!?

You begin to laugh. How strange it is that people can delude themselves so greatly, that even in the midst of a story chronicling years of murderous intent and heresy, they can delude themselves into believing themselves the hero of the tale. No, you are not the hero, Agranne. This is not some ghost possessing your body, or some curse controlling your mind.

...Then, who are you?

I'm you: Agranne of Ryggander, of course. The Terrorchild... A happy hexblood in Syrith's service! You grin madly as you bind the book closed with its ribbon and push it back onto the shelf where you found it. Now, as you breathe through your clenched teeth and drool a bit with your bloodlust, you find yourself considering what to do with the remainder of your day...

1. Free Yourself - You decide you won't be anyone's pet, ever again. Your hate has been building for two entire years, and now, finally, you won't have to wait any longer. You're going to atomize that bitch Diala - and take back the Pandemonium Door while wearing her blood!

2. Go To Church - You think about how fun would it be to stop by the Cathedral of the Gods here in Mardenaal and make your opinions known. You don't have to imagine anymore - all that vengeance you've been wanting since Rigatte died... It'll be yours, finally!

3. Let's Go Home - Ryggander is only three days away. Your family, so sweet, so innocent, so... So poor and stupid and ignorant! You're going to ride, day and night - ride the fucking horse into the ground if need be, so that you can be on their doorstep to spread the good word, that Syrith is God and you are her messenger.

Somebody please stop me.

 

[Breadman]

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