Fantasy The Fractured Lands: Story [CLOSED]

[Wayne]

• .
• .

• 
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  intro

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  Souls of Mist

  
  
  
  

  Shunsuke Kida

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  opening.

  
  
  
  

  T

  he sky hung low and gray, a muted shroud of ash that cloaked the land beneath. There, amidst a desolate field of withered grass, the remnants of an ancient castle stood solemn and abandoned, now reconfigured into a refuge for wandering souls. Encircled by skeletal trees and scattered bones, the ruins had morphed into a semblance of a city, Hedra, the City of Lost.
  
  "Look at you," an old blind woman crooned, her voice a cracked whisper in the gloom. "I see it in your eyes; you’re lost, aren’t you? Where are you? What is this place? Fear not, traveler, for you have stumbled upon heaven amidst this hell. Hedra, oh Hedra, guard our souls, keep our sanity intact, and grant us the sanctuary we so desperately seek.
  
  Hedra, oh Hedra, you call them all, these forlorn souls arrive, bereft of memory, seeking answers in a land barren of truth. They follow a fabled legend, chasing a treasure unseen and unreachable. The path is one of death, and those who tread it are destined to falter. We can only find temporary solace, awaiting peace until the darkness overtakes us and carves our lives away. But Hedra will not forsake us; oh, Hedra will protect."
  
  Her lament echoed through the air, a constant refrain of the mythic Pilgrimage of Light, a tale of a radiant beacon said to solve all woes and guide its touchers back to their worlds and times. Yet, the old woman's prophecies fell upon deaf ears.
  
  "Quiet, you wretched hag," barked a merchant, his voice sharp and impatient. He jostled the old lady aside, his bags of coins clinking with the sounds of gold, copper, and silver. In the fractured lands, currency was mere noise; it signaled trade, but acquiring goods required barter or theft. Precious items like meat, finely crafted weapons, and rare armor were coveted luxuries that attracted danger, making their possession perilous.
  
  Beyond the market, where low-grade food, rusty tools, and miscellaneous trinkets were peddled, lay a tavern and a handful of houses. Most homes were fortified with multiple locks, their owners wary of theft. The tavern, however, was Hedra’s heartbeat, known far and wide for its exceptional ale. Though rumors spoke of magical methods behind its quality, the tavern’s proprietors never divulged their secret. What mattered was the throng of patrons who traded armor and valuables for a single cup of chilled ale, often surrendering everything for the comfort of a drink.
  
  The streets of Hedra were a labyrinth of varying widths, with the castle walls forming narrow passages and blocked-off sections. The once-majestic castle had crumbled long ago, leaving only debris and scavenged materials. Its glory had faded, repurposed into a refuge for the destitute and lost.
  
  In this enigmatic city, a small group of individuals found themselves drawn together by a single legend, the mythical Pilgrimage of Light. Unaware of the journey that lay ahead, they were united by a story few dared to follow, their fates intertwined by the promise of an elusive beacon, having heard that somewhere in Hedra, there were the answers they wanted about the pilgrimage of light. With few places to explore, most adventurers were drawn to the tavern, a place for rest and information.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  cast

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  The Pilgrims of Light.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  The Knight

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  Wayne

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  The Pirate

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  Ayama

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  The Wildling

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  BuggaBoo

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  The Nameless

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  Goonfire

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  The Hierophant

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  yokai.

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  The Sea Serpent

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  yana

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  The Zealot

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  kasigi

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

intro

cast

Dive into

The Fractured

Lands

time

Dusk

location

Central ruins of Hedra

status

closed

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Wayne]

Wolf

mood.

Neutral

location.

Ruins of Hedra

tags.

None.

Wolf stepped into Hedra, the city emerging as a chaotic patchwork of habitation. The remains of an ancient castle had been cobbled together into makeshift homes, taverns, and shops. It was, at best, a squalid slum teeming with thieves and unscrupulous characters. Honor and decency were scarce, almost alien in these fractured lands.

For as long as Wolf could remember, he had adhered to his own code within these harsh territories. He had offered aid where he could, though not without resistance. His longsword, an intimidating blade, had seen more than its share of use. The weapon was cumbersome, large and heavy, unwieldy for most, but its mere presence often deterred would-be attackers.

Navigating through the market, Wolf scanned the stalls, his attention drawn to a few fresh fish despite the ever-present stench. It was food, something he had been sorely lacking since his last stop, a place that barely deserved the name “city.” That collection of tents and a solitary bonfire had offered little sustenance, only a handful of seeds which had done little to stave off his hunger.

“Excuse me,” Wolf addressed a merchant, his gaze steady and gray.

The merchant looked up, meeting Wolf’s eyes with a mix of curiosity and unease. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“What gave it away?”

“You’re clad in full armor, and that sword of yours will attract every thief in Hedra. If I were you, or if you had any sense, you’d trade it all to me for some of my finest fish.” The merchant’s grin was yellowed and cynical. Wolf, arms crossed, regarded him with a cold tilt of his head.

“The tavern,” he reiterated, his tone more insistent.

“Just a jest, stranger,” the merchant said, his expression softening. He then provided directions: head north from the marketplace to the city’s main thoroughfare, and the tavern would be the last building on the left side of the castle ruins. The wooden sign hanging there was nearly illegible, but the sounds of lively chatter confirmed he had reached his destination. Hedra was small enough to traverse in minutes, though the dense crowd suggested otherwise.

Wolf pushed open the tavern door, the warmth from a crackling fireplace immediately enveloping him. He shook off the cold, approached the counter, and set down a few trinkets he had scavenged.

“An ale,” he said, “and what’s available to eat?”

“Options, my friend? We’ve got bread and fish, that’s all we can manage here.”

“Then I’ll take both.”

With his food in hand, Wolf chose a table among the patrons who were engrossed in their drinks and conversation. Though most were too occupied to notice him, a few glances had already been cast toward his armor, a silent acknowledgment of the stranger among them. Whatever tales he had heard about the pilgrimage of light would have to wait for him to eat first.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Ayama]

fluticasone fluticasone

THE PIRATE LORD OF OTRECHT
Callum Thrym-Pennant​

"Not fortune found, nor fate divine
Come close to toping the juice of the vine..." ​

The familiar drinking song's melody could be heard winding through the animated chatter in Hedra's tavern, wafting from somewhere unseen.

If one were to carefully wend their way through spirited discussions and drunken card games towards the back of the popular establishment, they would find themselves facing an unusual sight in the Fractured Lands: a young man, seemingly relaxed and perfectly at ease, leaning back in a chair with his boots propped up on the table in front of him, fingers strumming the strings of a worn-out lute.

The man in question had hair the color of the deepest red wine and eyes the color of an oak tree's bark- eyes that were crinkled in a seemingly perpetual smile. He happily strummed away as he plucked out the melody of the well-known tune, a few weary voices joining him in song.

"With cherry crew, we sip and sway-
Let's tip the tankard and waste the day..." ​

Singing was rare in this purgatory of endless twilight- though not much was known about the origins of the Fractured Lands, it was clearly a place of testing, or punishment, and it seemed to be inhabited only by grizzled warriors and cutthroat murderers and those of less-than-sunny disposition.

Which was why the young pirate lord's cheerful demeanor stood out like a splash of color at a funeral. Though Callum didn't remember who he'd been before waking up in this hellscape, his lighthearted approach to life had stayed with him, and though time was difficult to measure here, he hadn't yet been in the darkened realm long enough for it to suck out his positivity and sense of joy, so he clung to them fiercely.

Besides, remaining obstinately exuberant was a way to keep the Fractured Lands from taking whatever remained of him and stay sane, so he overcompensated. By the time Wolf arrived in the tavern, the young lord had gotten enough of the other nearby patrons drunk for there to be a resounding chorus sounding from the back of the room.

"RE, RAW, WELL YE KEN, OUR TOILS CAN WAIT FOR A TIME.
WE SAW THE FOLLY OF MEN, WHO RATHER THAN REVEL REPINE!" ​

the drunken voices boomed as one, more than one tankard of ale sloshing out over its sides in the singers' enthusiasm as they tried, at least for the duration of the song, and as according to the words, to forget about the darkness- if even just for a moment.

 

[Goonfire]

The Nameless Rogue

---

Another day, another drink...

The blonde thief had scoured the harsh landscape for several days, scavenging what he could before returning periodically to Hedra. The almighty coin he and others knew was no good here; weapons, tools, and armor were the currencies of these Fractured Lands. Of course, he had little problem procuring them. Thieves and bandits seemed to be the ones destined to make a fortune...

"... Or die trying," he thought, staring at the new arrival from his seat on the Mezzanine balcony overlooking the tavern's main bar room. That armor, that longsword... Were the owner crestfallen, he could have sold such equipment for nearly anything he chose. What was his story?

The rogue was no less an outsider than the knight, truth be told. He, too, wore armor—dark leather, segmented, boiled, and riveted together into lightweight but sufficient protection. His was merely less imposing and eye catching than the head-to-toe steel.

His head then turned, gaze fixing upon the musician lifting his audience's spirits. It made for a pleasant, even colorful scene—one that, for a moment, made the thief forget his dismal reality. He leaned on the balustrade while finishing his diluted ale, watching for further arrivals and departures. Odd characters like these made for interesting gossip... and great profit, if they died. He felt lousy for weighing their value so soon, but he couldn't help it. If he didn't strip the trinkets from their corpses, someone else would, after all!

 

[BuggaBoo]

---

'Flower' - The Wildling Huntress

Blocking the way just outside the tavern...

Flower, Song and Wolfie were a pack. Even more than that, they were sisters.

And so the trail of Song's abductors led both she and Wolfie here. The outskirts of civilization.

Flower and Wolfie had coughed and crinkled their snouts. The land beyond reeked of perversion; an infection to both land and being. She hated it to no end, but they both had to enter into the Outsider human's territories.

Wolfie, tail drooped, amber eyes low, glued her hide to Flower's legs as commanded. There was no way Wolfie was to be alone on the outskirts; no trap would ever claim her sister again. And the huntress knew that anywhere but within her arms reach would make Wolfie seemingly a possible threat to these people. The canine might even be a target of hate and fear, possibly attacked.

But it was perhaps Flower herself that was the more worrisome. The woman was huge, muscular and covered in tattoos and scars across her entire massive brown body. All of course accented by giant-sized weaponry; her lovingly carved warbow was as tall as she herself, impressive as much as it was fear-invoking. Even lowered as she moved along the streets like a predatory beast, she was still taller than any man here.

And then of course was the bear skull, masking her face. Intricate carvings and markings were strewn all across its ivory surface. Weathered as it was, still the finger length teeth shone bright as it would have in its cursed life. But the one thing that had men avert their gaze and mother's hide away their children were those eyes. Hued that of northern permanence and hardened like diamonds, they stared not like one inqusitive. No, they stared out into the world as if everything that moved deserved to be killed and eaten.

In her world, the guardsmen would have instantly attacked her in attempt to subdue and cast her out. But this was not her world. The guardsmen here seemed to respect her Ways and merely flanked her, watching her as she went. As long as the she-beast and the she-wolf played nice, there would be no problems.

Despite knowing the language of these Outside peoples, Flower herself could not speak. Even more problematic was that they could not comprehend her language. Unlike Song, a whisperer in her own right, many others would find it hard to understand let alone figure out what Flower said with her clicks, grunts, whistles and motions.

And as curious as she was, Flower knew that this was not the time to try to speak nor trade with these Outsiders. No, she just needed to scout this dirty, deviant land for her sister. If Song was truly not here, then she would continue on for there was but only one path out of this place that horses could travel.

The sound of racous singing of course drew her attention. Tatted and scowling face turned. Several clicks and whistles she let out and Wolfie got up from her haunches and limped along side Flower. The bear mask lowered as she continued on to the place of song, drink and most importantly food.

Flower did not know the Ways of these people but for the most part she understood the reverence of a place of nourishment. She would respect such a place and they would eat their meal upon such lands.

The townsfolk would watch astonished as the giant woman danced and twirled, dark braids chasing her movements. Even the she-wolf seemed to prance and bark, joining in the rhythmic motions. And finally when the ritual was done, Flower and Wolfie sat at the stoop of the tavern. There was no way the pair would enter; it smelled like soured, fermented plants and sweaty, worm-infested bodies in there.

But still, the singing was nice. Finding the just right spot, Flower sat and basically blocked the stairway with her massive form. As she ate and shared her dried meats with Wolfie, both seemed to sway in time. Intoxicating was the music and song that revelled on inside.

---

 

[Wayne]

Narration

location.

Ruins of Hedra

tags.

BuggaBoo Goonfire Ayama

The tavern buzzed with an infectious vibrancy, its song a rare and spirited echo that reverberated through the heart of Hedra. Even those who drifted past the weathered building paused, momentarily entranced by the melodies that seemed to promise a glimpse of forgotten joys. The faces of the townsfolk softened, their smiles flickering like distant memories of better days in a land marred by its own disarray.


In the midst of this rare burst of cheer, the Knight felt an unsettling awareness. Despite his finely honed instincts warning of lurking danger, he remained rooted by a sense of duty that bound him to the city. He was not alone; the city’s grime and mystery had drawn others like him, strangers in search of elusive answers. The imposing figure of the woman with her wolf stood as a formidable presence at the tavern’s entrance, a living barrier that captured the collective gaze of curious onlookers. Many were drawn by the infectious revelry inside, yet the sheer scale of her presence deterred them from approaching.


The Pirate's actions had brought an unprecedented gaiety to the tavern’s usual clientele, a sight that jarred against the backdrop of their typically somber existence. The regular patrons, usually consumed by their sorrows, were now lifted by a rare moment of light-heartedness. This change did not escape the tavern keeper, who watched with a mix of unease and concern, as though he feared the celebration was a prelude to something less desirable.


Within the shadows, the rogue's gaze assessed the Knight’s armor with a calculating eye. The rogue was not alone; the tavern housed others of his ilk, adept at discerning between locals and outsiders. To them, both were merely another mark, another potential victim. Yet, despite the pervasive undercurrent of threat, the tavern's tacit rule against violence ensured a fragile peace within these walls.


Outside, a sudden chill descended, accompanied by the faint, distant toll of a bell. The sound, almost imperceptible, struck fear into those few who heard it. Faces turned pallid as people scrambled through the crowded streets, hurrying to their homes with frantic urgency. The city's narrow lanes, congested to the point of suffocation, forced many to jostle for passage, heightening the palpable tension.


The architecture of Hedra was a patchwork of necessity and neglect. Some structures incorporated remnants of the old castle, while others were hastily assembled from whatever materials could be salvaged. Many homes were precariously built of weathered wood, seemingly on the brink of collapse. Yet, against the odds, the city persisted, interconnected by a network of wooden ladders and bridges that marred the skyline with their unsightly presence.


Back in the tavern, the keeper's growing impatience was evident. His fingers drummed a restless rhythm on the counter as he served the patrons with a distracted air, his gaze frequently darting to the old wooden doors.


The bell tolled again, its sound this time causing the entire city to freeze momentarily. A young man, barely twenty, burst into the scene, his face etched with panic. He approached the woman blocking the tavern entrance, his voice urgent and breathless.


"Please, I need to get inside. They must be warned about the shade," he implored, sweat streaming down his brow.


Outside, chaos erupted as people surged towards their homes, the temperature plummeting with each passing moment. Among them, the old blind woman’s voice quivered with fear as she cried out, "Protect us, Hedra."


On the distant horizon, dark silhouettes mounted on horseback loomed over the city, their figures stark against the waning light.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[yana]

the sea serpent

Siri.

location

tavern in hedra

mood

anxious

Siri reached the city of Hedra by nightfall. She traveled with a small caravan as wandering the wastelands alone proved to be too dangerous for most. Cities and settlements were few and far between and the open road was perilous. She kept to herself as best as she could, not knowing who to trust.

Her skills as a thief came in handy in her journey across the Fractured Lands, even though she mostly stole food and weapons instead of coins and jewelry, as she was used to. Carrying such things only put a target on her back and she preferred to remain unnoticed and unremarkable. All she had on her was two daggers hidden under her cloak. They were simple but well-crafted, valuable enough to kill for.

She hid her dirty blonde hair and most of her face under a hood as she stepped into the tavern. As always, she didn’t draw much attention. She bought bread and ale with the little coin she had on her and found a seat in the corner that gave her a good overview of the whole place. The warmth of the fireplace and the strangely cheerful atmosphere were a welcome surprise. The song that filled the tavern was not a sea shanty she knew, but it still felt familiar. She caught herself quietly humming along the catchy melody.

The man who arrived in full armor immediately caught her eyes. Wearing such equipment probably meant he was wealthy. The massive sword he was carrying did not escape her attention either. That surely frightened away most thieves. Siri, however, prided herself in her ability to steal valuables and escape without their owner even noticing something was missing, so she definitely wanted to keep an eye on him, in case an opportunity presented itself.

As the singing died down, the atmosphere shifted fast. Siri heard a bell toll. She wasn’t sure what it signaled, but it sent a shiver down her spine. There seemed to be some commotion at the door, people were shouting outside. Danger was coming but she didn't know what and from where. Her body tensed as she reached for a dagger that was strapped to her thigh. She looked around, hoping to see someone who knew what was going on.

 

[BuggaBoo]

---

'Flower' - The Wildling Huntress

Bringing the blind woman into the tavern...

The bell tolled, alerting all, demanding all to run and cower.

Both the she-beast and the she-wolf bolted upright, ears perked up. One stood tall glaring at the source, the other lowered, tail-between legs, ready to flee.

Several low gutteral grunts and soft whistles Flower let out. The sounds slid out as gentle as the brush strokes upon Wolfie's hide. Just as gently now, she pressed the canine's haunches down then proceeded up the steps to the top of the stoop. A white-toothed sneer parted her lips, ice blue eyes lit with suspicion as she scanned the scurrying townsfolk.

That sound. It stirred memories in her; memories not from this Otherside but from her own world. The tension in her shoulders torqued up that much more when the bell tolled yet again. Her hackles were up now. The memories stirred in her mind were wrestling phantoms made of violence, pain and worst of all fear.

"Please, I need to get inside. They must be warned about the shade," he implored

Errupting from her throat was the sound of a smith's molten steel hitting cool liquid, the moment he was within point blank of her killzone. A hearbeat later she had him dead to rights, ice blue eyes melting within a deadly inferno. Wolfie was barking, lowered to the ground, ready to snap, catch and shake the life outta the invading stranger; all it took was a single motion or sound from her pack sister.

The young man held frozen, eyes crossed, blubbering at the sight of the wrong end of the biggest arrow he had ever seen. And yet despite his bowels demanding to be set free he held steadfast in his resolve, he had but one task to fulfill so be damned his bodily functions.

The old blind woman’s voice quivered with fear as she cried out, "Protect us, Hedra."

Amidst the sea of mayhem in the streets, a lone, pathetic beacon stood out within the panicked humanity. Instantly the hissing ceased; Flower's demeanor shifted as did her objective now. The woman was obviously blind upon a lone glance yet in the huntress' eyes, she needed to be protected at all costs.

Several commanding chuffs she dealt out and leapt high over the cowering young man's head. Flower hit the ground running, full sprint, dodging, shoving, hissing as she went. Undeterred, Wolfie ran immediately beside her pack sister, limp pronounced but still keeping up. Wildly was her tail wagging as she barked out, alerting the unseeing old lady.

Not even a moment before she turned her weathered cheek, was she then snatched and hoisted unceremoniously over the bulging brown inked shoulder of the massive huntress. Wolfie turned, snapping at heels to clear space for Flower. The big woman whistled loudly and bolted, heading straight back the way she came, a vice grip on her kicking and screaming old quarry.

There was no way she would let the old woman go. Her sightlessness was a sign of the divine as far as Flower was concerned. Many a time had her spirit guide led her to a blind being for advice; 'As it may be, that which they do not see, here child, do they well see into the Otherside's reality.' was the Smiling Jaguars wise words.

She had no idea how to open the door but luckily the young town-caller had left it open. A single leap took her and her divine sack of wise goods from bottom of stoop past the threshhold of the Outsider human's revered eatery's main entrance. On instinct, she placed the old woman at the centre and backstepped several times, her immense form lowered and wound up like a spring.

( yana , Wayne , Goonfire , Ayama )

The old woman lay there, mewling softly, yet safe and sound as far as Flower could see. But regardless, this place reeked of dirty, soured fluids and even dirtier, soured bodies. The room fell silent but the gaze-- all those eyes, they screamed out volumes. The big huntress hissed in response.

Instinctively Flower drew a short spear in one trembling yet readied hand. The other grabbed Wolfie by her scruff as the she-wolf growled, puffed up tail wagging nervously, ivory white teeth bared. Why the hell did this place smell of such filth and just where the hell were the spirits of this world?

The answer slunk its way up and down her spine playing it like a reaper's orchestra. A shakey breath she let out as she lowered her weapon, all thoughts about her sister, Song, vanishing in the next heartbeat. Wolfie caught the instant change in demeanour and ceased her own aggressiveness. She whimpered softly and licked her pack sisters hand.

Something out there, beyond sight and reason had softened the mettle of the most powerful being the wolf had ever known. Something big was happening.

Something wrong.

---

 

[Wayne]

Narration

location.

Ruins of Hedra

tags.

BuggaBoo Goonfire Ayama yana

The young man faced the tall woman with a courage that was more a veneer than a true shield. His heart pounded beneath his calm façade, each beat a testament to the fear he strove to conceal. As the woman, whose presence was both formidable and strangely serene, turned to aid the old blind woman, the young man, driven by an urgent need, hastened towards the tavern. He mounted the steps with rapid strides, flinging open the heavy wooden doors, and the sudden hush that fell over the room seemed to echo the gravity of the moment. The keeper, a stout man with a countenance marked by worry, met his gaze with a tremor in his voice.

“The shade are coming,” he declared, his words quivering as if each syllable bore the weight of impending doom. At the grim tidings, a wave of panic swept through the patrons, who scrambled from their seats and fled into the encroaching night. In the span of a few breaths, the tavern was nearly empty, save for a solitary quartet: a knight clad in worn armor, a rogue with a shrewd look, and two pirates whose silence spoke of many a tale. Their collective gaze fell upon the entrance just as the she-beast appeared, bearing the blind woman into the warm sanctuary of the tavern with a curious mixture of grace and menace.

“Outsiders, are you?” the keeper asked, his eyes flickering with both apprehension and a grudging hope. “If you were not, you would already be fleeing in terror.”

“No, not merely outsiders…” came the slow, deliberate response of the blind woman, each word a measured breath, as if she were weaving a thread through the very essence of those present despite her sightless gaze. “…but Pilgrims of Light.”

Beyond the tavern’s threshold, the city lay wrapped in an unnatural cold, the darkness reigning with a somber authority. The silhouettes of grim figures descended from the high hill, their forms shifting and indistinct against the night sky. The sound of their horses, though spectral and hollow, was a foreboding herald of their approach.

“The coming of the shades is no mere happenstance,” the blind woman’s voice was almost a whisper, laced with a knowing laugh. “They sense the pilgrims. To proceed, it seems, one must confront them, for it is the path of those who seek the light.”

The keeper’s gaze swept over the gathered folk, his eyes seeking signs of valor amongst them. Their battle-worn gear and stern faces spoke of past conflicts, yet the true measure of their courage remained untested. If they were indeed pilgrims, their mettle would need to be proven in the crucible of the night’s peril.

“What do you tarry for, children?” the blind woman’s voice rang clear and insistent. “Challenge beckons you from the shadows; it calls your names.”

Outside, the streets lay lifeless, bathed in the feeble light of scattered lanterns and flickering torches. The cold wind cut sharper, as though the town itself were succumbing to a deep and mournful chill. The presence of the shades was more than a mere threat, it was an omen of death, and their spectral forms were already roaming the darkened streets of Hedra, heralding a night of dread and destiny.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Ayama]

fluticasone fluticasone

THE PIRATE LORD OF OTRECHT
Callum Thrym-Pennant​

As the patrons got deeper and deeper into their cups and the singing increased in volume and disorderliness about him, Callum's intelligent eyes darted all around. The young bard might seem relaxed and without a care, but he hadn't survived in his chosen piratical career by being unaware of the fact that danger could strike at any time, and his guard was always up.

Of course, since he now found himself murdered and in the Fractured Lands, one could argue that he hadn't, in fact, survived, or been careful enough, but the pirate lord didn't remember any of that, though some part of him, no matter how faint, must have retained some notion of it, subtly seen in the tense coil of his shoulders and his ever-darting eyes.

He had noticed the large warrior in full-plate armor eating at a table nearby, and the blonde in the dark leather armor, leaning over the balustrade as he sang, tankard in hand. There was another in the corner whose features he couldn't quite make out under their dark hood, though he noticed a few stray strands of pale hair poking out.

Those who sang with him seemed to share his need to alleviate the darkness and silence of this mysterious land, and as the voices rose and fell he could almost feel the defiance in them. A defiance which turned to fear when, faintly and far off, began the tolling of a bell.

Before Callum could wonder at the meaning, a nervous-looking young man had barged inside, eyes wild, and made a chilling pronouncement about a shade. The words meant nothing to the bard, but this was evidently not the case for the rest of the patrons as, faster than he would've thought possible, they cleared out of the tavern, leaving behind only himself and a handful of the others he had noticed previously, along with a large, tattooed warrior who had barreled into the room during the chaos, gently depositing a blind old woman to the floor before hefting a spear and apparently growling at anyone foolish enough to make eye contact.

At the tavern keeper's mention of 'outsiders', Callum shrugged his shoulders unconcernedly and played a few, idle notes on the lute, stopping when he heard the words 'Pilgrims of Light'.

Frowning, he finally divested himself of his instrument and placed both feet firmly on the floor, giving the blind woman his full attention.

"What, exactly, is the shade?" he asked, preferring to know what he was in for before getting involved in any fight. "And why is it coming for us?"

 

[Wayne]

Narration

location.

Hedra's tavern

tags.

BuggaBoo Goonfire Ayama yana

In the dimly lit corners of the tavern, where shadows danced with the flickering light of hearth and candle, a grave discourse unfolded. The tavern keeper, a man seasoned by the tales of countless travelers and the whisperings of the town, leaned forward with an air of somber knowledge. “The Shade,” he intoned, his voice resonating with the weight of ancient lore, “are a band of warriors who serve the Five Lords. They journey from city to city, like Hedra, to gather souls. What befalls those they capture remains a mystery.”

At this, the old blind woman, whose presence seemed to echo with the wisdom of ages, stirred. Her voice, though gentle, carried the gravity of lost and unspoken histories. “Indeed, children, the Lords have long been silent. Before your arrival, there were others who sought the sacred light, pilgrims of valor who journeyed as you do. Alas, their paths were cut short, and they fell before the merciless Shade.” She reached for a cup, lifting it with a practiced hand and drinking the remnants of some long-forgotten reveler, the tavern keeper’s indifference to such acts a testament to his patience.

“The Shade,” she continued, her gaze, though unseen, seemed to pierce through the very essence of the young rogue to whom she pointed, followed by the other outsiders, “are said to seek out champions of great renown for their dark masters. Yet what becomes of those they capture is unknown. It appears you have been marked for their hunt. They are not in Hedra for its people, but for you.”

The tavern keeper’s brow furrowed in skepticism. “Whether the woman’s words ring true or not, the city will not escape unscathed. The Shade fulfill their grim orders with a fervor that leaves naught but ruin in their wake. By the light of the morning, this place may well be dust upon the wind.”

A heavy silence descended upon the room, the weight of impending doom palpable. The keeper’s expression was grim, and his words seemed to trouble both the young man and the old woman. “These warriors are fierce and untamed,” he resumed, his hands moving methodically to clean the remaining cups. “Though I have not beheld them myself, since the last assault on Hedra occurred before I took up my duties, I have heard that they appear almost spectral, wraiths from the shadowed realms.”

Outside, the Shade moved with dreadful purpose through the streets, their dark cloaks and sinister armor gleaming with an unnatural sheen beneath the moon’s cold light. They rode undead steeds, their presence a harbinger of doom. With brutal efficiency, they shattered doors and invaded homes, their search relentless and without mercy. The citizens, driven by fear, fought to barricade their dwellings, but the Shade’s strength was a fearsome force, breaking through barriers and leaving carnage in their wake. Their monstrous recklessness showed no regard for life, and they scoured every corner, their eyes cold and unfeeling.

The young man, filled with a sudden dread, approached the window. His gaze met that of a Shade warrior, and in a moment of stark terror, he recoiled, falling to the ground. The tavern keeper, swift and resolute, moved to his side. “They are upon us,” he declared, his voice grim with the certainty of impending doom.

“You are left to your own fate,” he said, urgency in his tone. “None among us could withstand even one of these fiends. I shall lead these two through the back. Mayhap you can endure this night.” With a decisive movement, he took the old blind woman by the arm, guiding her towards a hidden door at the tavern’s rear, with the young man following closely behind. “Good fortune to you, pilgrims.”

“If fate allows,” the blind woman’s voice carried a strange mirth as she departed, “we may meet again.”

The tavern, sturdy and spacious, held the promise of temporary refuge. Its wooden beams, robust and ancient, could serve as a shield, while tables and chairs stood ready to be employed in the defense of the beleaguered. Yet, time was fleeting, for the Shade’s approach was swift and inexorable. As they began to ascend the stairs, the necessity for swift action was evident. The pilgrims faced the grim reality of uniting their strength to resist the encroaching darkness, their survival hinging upon their courage and resolve.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Goonfire]

The Nameless Rogue

---

A chill crept up the rogue's spine—once as the foreboding bell drove the patrons to flee, and again as the elder brought by the hulking woman stared directly at him with clouded, unseeing eyes. Up to this point, he had remained still as a statue, hardly breathing in these long, tense minutes. He finally weaved between the tables and down the weathered, winding staircase to join the others who had congregated here. A look of doubt held fast upon his features. "Whatever reason they may want me, I swear I am innocent," he protested uneasily, not believing himself to be some Pilgrim of Light.

Screams echoed from the nearby crude homes... Dying wails he somehow knew too well. "Then again, I doubt innocence means much to these 'Shade'." His eyes trailed up from the startled young man to the window. His blood ran cold at the mere glimpse of the malevolent creature. This entity was his adversary; every fiber of his being told him so. His heart raced with primal fear.

The last three townsfolk slipped out through the backdoor. Even if they were unable to fight, a stone sank in the thief's gut as the realization hit him: only five of them versus the stuff of legends. "Stay calm," he breathed. "We handle them as we handle anything else." How did the others handle these situations...?

Well, he knew how he did.

Sensing the enemy approaching the tavern doors, the rogue dove under the table nearest them, drew his dagger, and pulled up his cloth half-mask. His breathing was now muffled and he was poised to strike from the shadows.

 

[Wayne]

Wolf

mood.

Focused

location.

Ruins of Hedra

tags.

None.

In the dim and shadowed hall of the tavern, a sense of dire foreboding filled the air. The shades that prowled the streets of Hedra were a menace far too grave to be lightly dismissed. Wolf harbored no illusions that fleeing the town would grant a safe escape; indeed, such an action would be deemed a coward's flight, unworthy of any true-hearted soul. The cries that pierced the night beyond the tavern’s walls were a sorrowful summons for aid. If the woman’s ominous foretelling, that the shades were descending upon them, held any truth, then the townsfolk endured suffering wrought by their very presence. Thus, it was only just that they should stand resolute against the peril they had unwittingly unleashed.

Wolf sat steadfast at his table, his ears attuned to the murmur of debate and the grim tidings they received. The questions that danced on the edge of their discourse were many, yet the answers remained elusive, especially with the shades roaming the streets. Time dwindled with every heartbeat, and the urgency grew palpable. At that very moment, a young man had drawn the notice of the shades. As the townsfolk fled the tavern, Wolf discerned the ominous approach of their adversaries, heavy, deliberate footfalls heralding a fierce clash. The shades were well-armed and prepared for the struggle against their meager band.

The shades, numerous and relentless, surged forth into the tavern. A dozen or more of these spectral warriors began to flood the establishment, their dark forms unsettling as they advanced. Wolf rose, his gaze sweeping over the scene. The other pilgrims readied themselves for battle, each in their own manner. Despite their small number, they appeared capable of defending themselves. Two shades, clad in armor of midnight hue and bearing an aura of malevolence, approached Wolf with menacing intent.

He met their assault with practiced grace, narrowly evading the first blow. His own sword was quickly drawn, meeting the next attack with firm resistance. Wolf retreated a step, seeking a clearer view of his foes. The shades’ armor, an eerie black as if forged from the very essence of night, seemed to swallow the light. Their faces, obscured by darkened helms and cloaks, rendered them faceless and nameless specters, driven solely by the desire to vanquish and subdue.

In a moment of tactical insight, Wolf kicked the table beside him. The jarring impact caused one shade to falter, granting Wolf a fleeting opportunity to engage the other. He swung his blade with precision, though it narrowly missed its mark. He ducked beneath an incoming strike and charged, tackling his foe to the ground. Wolf rained blows with his gauntleted fists, yet his advantage was short-lived as the second assailant recovered their footing.

Wolf glanced around, ensuring the safety of his comrades, then turned his attention back to the fray. He parried a swing followed by a push with his shoulder, he then countered with a slash to the shade’s thigh, followed by a decisive kick that sent his enemy sprawling. This momentary respite allowed him to focus on his remaining opponent. The battle raged on with neither side gaining a definitive edge, until Wolf attempted a finishing strike aimed at the shade’s neck. However, his blade became entangled in the wooden beams supporting the tavern. In that critical instant, the shade’s weapon swung toward him. Wolf narrowly evaded the blow, but not without a cost, a gash on his right arm that, though not grievous, would need tending soon.

Drawing back, Wolf scanned the room for a makeshift weapon. His gaze fell upon a cup of ale, undisturbed amidst the chaos. Seizing it, he hurled it at his foe, causing the shade to stumble backward, aligning them with one of the tavern’s windows. Wolf seized the opportunity, engaging in close combat. With a powerful left hook followed by another, he overwhelmed the shade, who faltered in their defense. A final, forceful kick sent the foe crashing through the window, the fall, though not fatal, would remove them from the fray.

The remaining shade, despite a wounded leg, rose to continue the fight. Wolf, having retrieved his sword, met the threat with swift determination. He cleaved through the shade’s weapon and hand, delivering a final, decisive blow that ended the menace. As the clash subsided, Wolf’s gaze swept over the battleground, his eyes vigilant as he held his injured arm, assessing the state of his comrades and the outcome of their dire confrontation.

♡coded by uxie♡