User:Thilan/Visions
Visions of a Clerical nature.
Meeting with Anctarcarim
Not a vision but figured I'd log this here. Had to leave the Muspar'i Cleric Guild release event early and finally got to the guildhall after getting a Moongate out of the desert:
[Ganen Eliza, Guildleader's Alcove]
The stale aroma of dust hangs heavy in the stagnant air, no breeze able to reach deep enough into the temple to disturb this place. High above, light refracts through the colored panes of a stained-glass window, casting pale rays of red, orange and yellow on the smooth walls, sandy floor and oak-framed settee. A creased, calligraphic vellum has been attached to a plaque on the wall. You also see a sapphire-eyed black panther that is sitting, the cleric leader Anctarcarim and a pair of pure white coyotes that is sleeping.
Obvious exits: southeast.
You notice as a sapphire-eyed black panther looks around cautiously.
>l anc
The guildleader Anctarcarim is a heavy Sand Elf man with cropped light brown hair and emerald eyes, clothed in a sleeveless open tunic and suede trousers. Tendrils of ivylike, vinegar-hued tattoos span his tanned skin from his arms and mostly shaven face to his chest and ample belly. A thick goatee, braided long and clasped at the end with gold, suspends off his chin. He manages to appear both morose and cordial at the same time as he untiringly edifies the priesthood of Muspar'i and Velaka.
>read vell
______________________________________________________________________ / /_\ | o | | | | Let it be known, the following have displayed excellence | | in sacred artisanship! | | | | # Name Race Deity | | ------------------------------------------------------------------ | | 1 Rambliin Yi'vuush'heke S'Kra Mur Berengaria | | 2 Kasrkyn Odekesha Gnome Eylhaar | | 3 Liurilias Chricha'rure Prydaen Triquetra | | 4 Phaelynae Elothean Harawep | | 5 Tyrun Talmuron Elf Huldah | | 6 Keladra Letane Human Kerenhappuch | | 7 Valkri Hygia Elothean Aldauth | | 8 Teel Armiarma Elf Harawep | | 9 Evro Human Kuniyo | | | | To REMOVE your name from this list, RUB the vellum. | | To ADD your name, or update your name, TAP the vellum. | _|__________________________________________________________________ | / /_\ |
| | |
\__________________________________________________________________\__/
>tap vell
You have added your name to the creased vellum. To remove it, RUB the vellum.
>read vell
______________________________________________________________________ / /_\ | o | | | | Let it be known, the following have displayed excellence | | in sacred artisanship! | | | | # Name Race Deity | | ------------------------------------------------------------------ | | 1 Rambliin Yi'vuush'heke S'Kra Mur Berengaria | | 2 Kasrkyn Odekesha Gnome Eylhaar | | 3 Liurilias Chricha'rure Prydaen Triquetra | | 4 Phaelynae Elothean Harawep | | 5 Tyrun Talmuron Elf Huldah | | 6 Keladra Letane Human Kerenhappuch | | 7 Valkri Hygia Elothean Aldauth | | 8 Teel Armiarma Elf Harawep | | 9 Cazvelu Human Asketi | | 10 Evro Human Kuniyo | | | | To REMOVE your name from this list, RUB the vellum. | | To ADD your name, or update your name, TAP the vellum. | _|__________________________________________________________________ | / /_\ |
| | |
\__________________________________________________________________\__/
Anctarcarim exclaims, "Finally!"
Anctarcarim grins at you.
You bow to Anctarcarim.
Anctarcarim says, "I thought we lost you for good in the desert."
You say, "Thank you, Father."
You say, "Asketi saw me through."
Anctarcarim looks at you, praising you and supporting you with his approval.
You say, "With perhaps some Moon Mage help."
The male coyote chuffs slightly in its deep sleep.
[Ganen Eliza, Guildleader's Alcove]
The stale aroma of dust hangs heavy in the stagnant air, no breeze able to reach deep enough into the temple to disturb this place. High above, light refracts through the colored panes of a stained-glass window, casting pale rays of red, orange and yellow on the smooth walls, sandy floor and oak-framed settee. A creased, calligraphic vellum has been attached to a plaque on the wall. You also see a sapphire-eyed black panther that is sitting and a pair of pure white coyotes that is sleeping.
Also here: Guildmaster Anctarcarim.
Obvious exits: southeast.
You smirk.
The soft white glow fades from around you.
You ask, "I trust the journey was as eventful as when I got lost in the dunes?"
You see Guildmaster Anctarcarim of Velaka, an Elven Cleric.
Anctarcarim has pointed ears and emerald eyes. His light brown hair is cropped and fine, and he has a fat build. Tendrils of ivylike, vinegar-hued tattoos span his tanned skin from his arms and mostly shaven face to his chest and ample belly. A thick goatee, braided long and clasped at the end with gold, suspends off his chin.
He is average height for an Elf.
He appears to be an adult.
He is in good shape.
He is wearing a sleeveless open tunic of darkly brocaded spidersilk, a pair of heavy black gold armlets, a sand-scarred belt with a silvered tribal yataghan and a spinel-hilted tribal yataghan hanging from it, a brown leather haversack, a jadeite gwethdesuan, a kyanite gwethdesuan, some maroon suede trousers and some calf-length desert boots.
Anctarcarim says, "We decided the undead yeehar were too numerous to handle without further preparation."
Anctarcarim says, "So that's what I'm looking into now."
Anctarcarim frowns.
You nod.
Anctarcarim says, "Very well. I'll let you take a look around, and we can also talk about you training, if you wish."
A brief flicker of pain pulses through your veins as the expanded horizons of your magical senses contract to your nervous system's natural capacity.
Anctarcarim smiles at you.
You say, "Sad that such foul magics can corrupt such a majestic creature."
You say, "These are fine specimens, though."
Anctarcarim nods slowly.
You smile at a pair of pure white coyotes.
The huge white coyotes are curled up snugly near the southeastern chapel, evidently sound asleep. Their bulky forms heave rhythmically from their deep breathing, and their bushy tails sweep the floor languidly every now and then. An evil eye stone has been braided onto each coyote's nape fur.
>l window
Sheets of glass in muted desert hues paint the picture of an army of charging orcs laying seige to a barren village. While their front lines rampage from hut to burning hut, their reserves lay powerless at their camp, thin and gaunt from starvation.
Anctarcarim taps you approvingly on the shoulder and turns to his paperwork.
You grin at the cleric leader Anctarcarim.
You notice as a sapphire-eyed black panther looks around cautiously.
>ask anc about exp
Anctarcarim says, "The gods honor you, Cazvelu! You have been deemed worthy to train for your next rank!"
"Persevere constantly, for your work is pleasing to those whom you serve and they will be swift to reward one who remains true and steadfast in all their ways. Continue your diligent work, and you will continue to advance in our guild!" He regards you calculatingly.
Anctarcarim adds, "Blessings upon you also, for being ready to learn more of the magical arts! ASK me ABOUT MAGIC if you wish to know more."
>ask anc about exp
Anctarcarim says, "The gods honor you, Cazvelu! You have been deemed worthy to train for your next rank!"
"Persevere constantly, for your work is pleasing to those whom you serve and they will be swift to reward one who remains true and steadfast in all their ways. Continue your diligent work, and you will continue to advance in our guild!" He regards you calculatingly.
>ask anc about exp
"Well, Cazvelu," the guildleader says, "You have some work to do before you can advance to circle 59 in our order.
Regarding your weapon knowledge, you should work on First Weapon (Heavy Thrown).
Once you've accomplished that, come see me again."
Altar Visions
1 vision every 10 circles before receptiveness to visions is weakened, caps at 10. Not sure what the timer is.
You feel a warmth run through your skin as you touch the altar, and sense a deep connection with something much greater than yourself. The feeling is brief, and your vision clouds over....
The image of a crystal-clear water fills your mind, spreading out before you. From nearby, notes of pure melodic music drift on the currents of the wind. Though something dark teases the edge of your sight, trying to work its way in, nothing can break the utter tranquility of the moment.
You do not see, but rather feel, a malevolent presence nearby you, squeezing at your upper arm. Though subtle at first, the pressure gradually builds until it's nearly unbearable, and you feel it trying to tear your very soul from your body. All at once, a huge scorpion appears on your shoulder, striking with its stinger and driving the evil presence away.
You see the corpse of yourself rise to its feet, your skin falling off along with decayed chunks of your flesh.
You feel the infinite outrage of the gods in your very bones, resonating through plane and time. The sensation seems to empower you with purpose.
Your vision is completely obscured by a sheaf of misty whiteness. A deep tingling spreads throughout your body, and you suddenly feel as if you are soaring upon a warm, comforting cloud high in the air.
The shroud of satiny, alabaster vapor swirls away from you, revealing The Crossing stretched out far beneath you. Your spirit soars like liquid through the air, your fingers outstretched toward the massive orb of the High Temple below. Expanses of pruned trees and lush foliage skirt the majestic monument. A warm feeling tingles through you, ending the vision.
Your sight is suddenly devoured by a pitch-black darkness, and soon small fingers accompanied by an unholy stench start touching you. Just as they find a way through your clothing and the cold, pulpy flesh meets your skin, twin rays of blinding light blast through the blackness. The fingers immediately retreat, and you glimpse a very short humanoid in the remaining shadows.
After a few moments, you realize that the light is emanating from your own eyes -- a manifestation of your blessed soul. You sweep your gaze through the area, but the creature crawls frightfully from one dark corner to another. The rays catch it at last, sizzling the body of a dead Halfling as its wretched scream fills the air.
A sense of desperation settles over you as you perceive the lingering energy of a dark force marring the Plane of Abiding. It stirs as if slumbering fitfully, on the verge of awakening.
A silvery shape of lined light manifests itself as a mongoose. A tall woman with pure white hair flowing nearly to her feet whispers to you, "Defend the gods always, and may they guide and guard your soul in return." A gust of wind lifts her hair to flutter softly as the vision fades.
A shower of comets swirls through the inky night sky as millions of vaporous living spirits sift off unto their origin.
You find yourself nestled comfortably under a warm quilt, burrowing deeper under the soft cover to cuddle up to a still form lying next to you. As you snuggle closer, a feeling of dread begins to permeate your consciousness before you realize that the body is ice-cold. Your eyes widen in revulsion as you pull back the covers to reveal a rotting corpse, its mouth open in a silent scream. You desperately try to push away, and the vision fades.
A faint sense of worry washes through you as a vision of some mountainous wilderness flashes into your mind. Fleeting twinges of dark energy stab into your spirit, but you cannot discern their cause.
The image of a stately Rakash woman coalesces before you, shrouded in a cloak of bitter ice and frost. The frigid mantle soon melts away, seeping into the ground below. Your sight suddenly grows weak, frosting over like a window pane under Asketi's breath, and the vision fades.
A vaporous Human form manifests in the air above the altar, his skin glowing silver and starry black. He regards you gravely, and an unearthly voice speaks, "Smite down the abominations of Life and Death, Cazvelu, whenever and wherever they are found."
The wraith touches a wispy finger to your forehead, then vanishes.
The altar suddenly becomes deathly cold under your touch, causing you to reflexively yank your hand back -- but not before you experience a momentary fright where you feel bereft of divine favor. As you watch, the cold metal altar shrinks into a mere fragment, yet it still emanates the malevolence of thirteen gods with unabated intensity. Trickles of midnight-hued purple and blue blood drip from its edge, bursting into flame as they spiral downward in a dark void.
You see a plain woman in the distance, towering above thousands upon thousands of unholy creatures. Your gaze strips away her illusions to reveal her ghastly appearance, and her armies turn to dust with so much as a thought. She, however, stays maddeningly out of your reach. From behind her, a tremendous unearthly presence reaches out toward you, shredding through the planar barriers as if they were nothing more than sheer veils.
The image of a dagger with a carved bone hilt fills your mind, seeming to interrupt the vision from the altar. Though a simple weapon, it seems to exude a malevolence of its own, and moves to stab itself into your heart. Just before it reaches you, a twisted paw knocks it aside, and it clatters to the ground, vanishing in a haze of red-tinged corruption.
Dozens of ghostly children emerge from the Void - or are you there yourself? -- and hastily swirl around you with outreached arms. Their mouths are open soundlessly, gushing spiritual waves of warning and import. The apparitions then become bright-winged nightingales that flutter away determinedly.
You see an image of a lion, sitting majestically at the edge of a completely circular pool. It suddenly jumps and growls at an approaching vulture, but quickly calms as the creature places an offering before it. Both creatures rake their claws at the water's edge, breaking the serene image to reveal the tainted corruption lying just below the mirror-like surface.
A small metallic shard hovers over the altar, ablaze with a powerful black radiance. It suddenly drops into a deep-looking pool, instantly boiling the brackish water amidst great yowling clouds of sickly blue and purple steam.
You are plunged into a deep, cold, unending abyss, the nightmarish nothing spreading out in all directions, void of any life or sound. Despairing, you wander forward, with nothing to tell you whether you are going the right way. Suddenly, several white claw marks rend the air in front of you, piercing the darkness with a brilliant white light. As you step through the rip, gentle hands lift you up, and a voice speaks softly. "Do not despair, my child. Though the darkness seems hopeless, it will not last forever."
Infusion/Resurrection Event Altar Visions
You see a pile of tapestries tossed in a heap before you. Some are silk, some cotton, most all frayed and faded. You reach to examine a blood red one, and suddenly you feel a sharp rake of pain across the back of your hand.
You see a great black shell, cracked open like an egg. The surface of the shell is etched with strange, indecipherable runes unlike anything you have seen before. A river of midnight-blue sludge pours out endlessly from within.
The image of a haggard hangman's tree shimmers before you, its gnarled branches bowing heavily beneath the weight of the many souls it has reaped.
The image of an inverted red triangle on a black background flickers before you. It fades as a ghostly musical chorus swells and dies.
You see an image of a three-taloned claw. Struggling within its grasp is purple-speckled dusky blue moth.
A layer of crystalline frost forms over a silvered surface. You wipe away the frost expecting to see your reflection, but the surface gives way to a swirling black chasm.
You see a bridge, arching like a wild ocean wave from the depths of the sea to the shore.
You draw forth a blade from a sheath. Rather unexpectedly, the sword is made of jagged bone.
You are jarred by a vision of an obsidian obelisk. You can discern nothing about it, as the surface is smooth and unmarred.
You see a line of statues, each a contorted, grotesque, reptilian form.
A vision of a black stone basin wavers before you, as several large bubbles of a viscous blood-red liquid within it suddenly expand and burst.
An Elven man with pale skin and thinning grey hair sits in contemplation. His hand bears a frosted onyx cambrinth ring bearing the crest of the Cleric's Guild, and hangs limply at his side. His eyes narrow as he appears to struggle to form a decision.
Milky white eyes gaze out from a face of ebon skin as dark as shadow. An unseen hand raises a scythe etched with intricate patterns along the blade over the face, concealing the eyes. With a silver flash, the vision fades.
An extraordinary walkway stretches ahead, rough and fraught with protruding obstacles. You kneel to examine it and with a shock realize it consists of fused bones!
A soft nagging thought fills your mind, Go Home. Go Home. Go Home.
A bone-shafted spear sails through the air and with a heavy thud embeds into a wooden statue of a woman with an amble figure, her arms outstretched. A dark stain slowly spreads over her carved visage.
You see a flash of deep blue velvet tapestries. Despite the lovely color and soft fabric, an uncomfortable nagging foreboding makes you deeply uneasy.
A massive skeletal claw lurching awkwardly out of a briny mire sinks slowly down, groping a crude altar within its cursed palm. A blood-stained silver chalice lies nearby in the swamp, sinking ever-so-slowly in unison.
A silvery shape of lined light manifests itself as a mongoose. A tall woman with pure white hair flowering nearly to her feet whispers to you, "Defend the gods always and may they guide and guard your soul in return". A gust of wind lifts her hair to flutter softly as the vision fades.
You struggle to make out the words written upon a plaque. A monument to the farility and fallibility of mortal souls, the pawn here forever gathers dust." The words inspire neither hope nor relief.
You are seated at a great banquet. Music filters faintly through the noise of feasting and drinking. You turn to your left to take a drinking cup passed to you, and find in your hand a twisted silver horn that is naggingly familiar.
As you raise it to your lips, you realize the liquid within is hot blood, and that the beast laid before you on the table for dinner is not a boar roasted for nobles, but a slain unicorn stripped of its horn. You look to the guests seated opposite you, and find the feasting hall is full of skeletal beings, without joy or purpose.
The sickly black mist of a nightmare swirls about you. You find yourself trudging through murky swamp waters. Suddenly you stumble as your next step is less solid and you sink further into the mire. You are suddenly caged within a huge claw that seizes you from below and begins to drag you beneath the murky water! Stagnant muck and filth fills your mouth as you feel yourself pulled deeper and deeper.
From an all consuming blackness a pair of radiant green eyes slowly emerge, casting a sickly glow on dusky midnight-blue scales that cover a hulking body. Two deathly black reptilian wings span across the creature's back, tipped with spiked talons that glisten malevolently in the light. A gargantuan tail, thickly plated with armored scales slowly undulates back and forth.
A circle glimmers before you. Gradually you realize you are gazing down into a silver goblet filled with an ebon liquid, the rim forming the circle. As you watch, you see another circle, the borders etched in indecipherable runes. Within this circle is a silver bowl, filled with congealed blood. As you stare, the goblet you hold shatters in a fine shimmering mist.
A vision of a crimson mist forms before you. The mist, shaped vaguely in female form, holds a hideous amalgam of disembodied Human organs floating within it -- two eyes dangling with bloodied optic nerves, a beating heart, and a ragged coil of throbbing entrails. With a terrifying scream, the heart within begins to pulse furiously.
You wake groggily from a head-pounding sleep, to find yourself lying in a coffin, wrapped in a heavy purple shroud. In alarm, you see the lid begin to descend, and raise your hands instinctively to keep it from closing. Just as the lid falls shut, you realize your hands are nothing but bare skeletal bones.
You find yourself flailing in a churn of water. You try to swim, exhausted beyond reason. Battling weakly you are dragged into a violent churning funnel of water that tosses you downward. Water jams into your mouth as you plummet! Like a stone, you fall. And fall.
Global Visions
The Fall of the Great Barrier
A pale shimmer materializes in front of you. It gradually intensifies until it is a solid-looking wall of blinding gold, unfurling vertically as far out as the eye can see. You notice greasy, invasive veins pulsating within the glare, and soon the entire surface is consumed by their taint, the golden hue shifting to an ichorous crimson-streaked black. Just as several grotesque silhouettes begin to emerge, the vision blinks out of sight.
Tachid's Folly and Asketi's Wrath
You suddenly feel airy and light as a feather, and you are whisked away to the midst of a blizzard, floating about a cloudy precipice. Apparently led by a much smaller figure, a pack of skeletal animalian monsters are scaling the mountain, their claws digging into the rock face with ease. One by one, the shrieking winds pluck the large creatures from the mountainside, purposefully hurling them against the jagged cliffs below. Their now-frozen skeletal frames shatter into a thousand beady green pieces as if glass.
The Halfling, however, clings to the granite wall like a little undead spider; a barrage of wind-honed hails shreds his fingers into bloodless ribbons, yet he keeps on climbing without so much as a pause. As he grabs the final handhold with a triumphant yip, the sky darkens, churns and unleashes an ear-splitting lance of icy blue lightning aimed at him! The ensuing blast is powerful enough to send your incorporeal form hurtling back towards your body, ending your involuntary spirit walk as the smitten creature s ashes are scattered to the wind.
Dergati vs. Firulf SMACKDOWN
Changing the Firulf altar in the Ker'Leor to Dergati.
In the darkness, you feel walls closing in around you. Ahead in the distance, an exotic, black-haired beauty says, "Yes Sister, I shall wound his pride for you and take what is his. Such weakness deserves my wrath." As the woman holds out her arm, a shrike swoops down and folds its wings as if home.
You see the woman standing before a flat-topped stone altar. An evil smile crosses her face as she places her hands on it, her eyes closing. She mutters some words you don't quite catch and the altar starts to glow. Suddenly, you hear a loud *CRACK* as bolts of lightning fly out of the rock. In a flash, they disappear, replaced by the image of a shrike that illuminates the stone's surface.
You hear the exotic beauty say, "It is done. They shall worship me now or suffer my rage." She turns to a mass of swirling shadows and says, "I shall strengthen your brethren to guard this place. You may toy with all who enter these woods and feed on their souls."
A black-haired beauty stands before a wall of brambles with a gypsy marauder. She tells the gypsy, "You shall no longer enter here. Tell your king, I claim these woods and my pets shall punish all who dare pass. Remember, I am always watching." As the vision fades, you see three flashing eyes that slowly fade from sight.
Something...Happens
A tingling, euphoric sensation takes you by the soul. You see a darkness, pitch black yet pulsing in a profane parody of life. An arcing spear of silver light pierces not just the Void, but that source of darkness blacker than the void, and a great evil dissipates forever.
At least, that was the intention. Something... happens. The spear of silver shears into the shadow-mass, revealing a glint of yellow light. It is pale and dull, lacking the luster of gold and divinity, yet somehow blinding to the touch. There is a confusion of forces, and the righteous euphoria dancing through your soul turns cold.
Vela'tohr Plant
Vision most likely related to the old Valtusk event but still cool.
[Vela'Tohr Woods, Withered Foothills]
A lone vela'tohr plant grows stoically amidst hard packed ground comprised of small pebbles and stone, tiny remnants from the mountain that looms above it. It stands, a vigilant sentinel, before a rough trail that leads back to a denser part of the woods.
Obvious paths: northwest.
[Vela'Tohr Edge, Adder's Coil]
A velvety carpet of flora explodes suddenly into being in this spot, bearing vibrant flowers and plants of all colors and shapes. A sense of exuberance permeates the air here, as if it were charged with the essence of Life itself. You also see a large vela'tohr plant.
Obvious paths: northeast, southwest.
You reach out and lay your hands upon the vela'tohr plant's stalk, closing your eyes in concentration.
A vision suddenly takes hold of your consciousness, depicting a vast expanse of forest lying at the foot of a giant mountain crowned by an ominous-looking temple.
A horrid shriek suddenly floods your ears, shattering into your mind like a piercing blade and dispersing the vision before you. You grasp your head and slump to the ground in pain!
Note -- stunned here
The image of a Dwarven priest, clad in platemail and bedecked with symbols of Kertigen wavers in the air above you. A forlorn look crosses his face and he disappears as suddenly as he had materialized, a chilling wind rushing over your dazed person.
You manage to regain hold of your senses, although your ears still ring with the incessant cacophony of a banshee's wail.
Note -- stun wore off
The vicious ringing continues to plague your senses! (7x)
The constant ringing in your ears finally ceases. Ahh, blessed silence!
Misenseor Abbey
The altar has been cut from a single block of deepest black obsidian and is devoid of ornamentation. Standing in resolute silence, bearing witness to many unspeakable acts, the altar shall never divulge its secrets except to the darkest of heart and those who are chosen to serve.
You feel a warmth run through your skin as you touch the altar, and fast upon it, a vision....
You find yourself in a throng of people moving slowly forward. Ahead of you is a figure, deeply hidden in shadow, sitting in a high-backed chair. The line moves forward and each person kneels before the figure, receiving a blessing. With time you move closer to your moment and your anxiety grows -- suddenly you find yourself at the head of the line. A frail hand stretches out to you.
The vision fades.
You reach out and touch the high altar.
You feel a warmth run through your skin as you touch the altar, and fast upon it, a vision....
Dressed in a deep hooded robe, you approach the high altar. Cradled gently in your outstretched hands rests a small golden bowl, an offering of holy water for your god. As you slowly climb the dais you are filled with a gentle sense of reverence and peace. Reaching the top step you stumble causing some of the precious liquid to spill out upon your hands. Looking down in horror you see that the bowl was filled not with holy water but with blood. In terror you turn to flee.
The vision fades.
You reach out and touch the high altar.
You feel a warmth run through your skin as you touch the altar, and fast upon it, a vision....
Suddenly you find yourself standing on a small balcony overlooking a vast wilderness. You lean for a moment upon the railing for support, a strong northern wind pressing your robes to your skin. The cool air is chilling and invigorates you as your senses feel renewed and keen. Looking out over the horizon your spirit feels as if it is surging with an inner power. From behind you a gentle whisper urges, "All of this can be yours."
You reach out and touch the high altar.
You feel a warmth run through your skin as you touch the altar, and fast upon it, a vision....
A horrid vision of death and destruction surrounds you. Fields are strewn with dead, bleeding bodies, maimed beyond recognition. You stare transfixed as the bodies arise... as Undead!
You reach out and touch the high altar.
You feel a warmth run through your skin as you touch the altar, and fast upon it, a vision....
A pale figure hovers over the altar, shining brighter than a star. Your eyes are blinded, and yet you cannot bear to turn away. Slowly, the figure extends a hand that swirls with the scent of warmth and fresh blossoms, and you hear a voice say, "Faith, my child. I walk amongst thee, waiting for the time when anon you shall return home to me."
The figure then vanishes, taking the vision with it. (Stunned me)
You reach out and touch the high altar.
You feel a warmth run through your skin as you touch the altar, and fast upon it, a vision....
All is darkness, full and cold, an endless Void of Nothing. And then, out of this -- a spark. A shattered remnant of a song. The coiling magic of creation swirls about you, gathering until it forms thirteen pale, perfect spheres. A ball of fire ignites the darkness, bringing warmth. The Void is rendered Whole, and thus ceases existence. With its parting, your vision fades....
You reach out and touch the high altar.
You feel a warmth run through your skin as you touch the altar, and fast upon it, a vision....
A smiling monk places his arm about your shoulder and leads you to a large room where others like him sit at a long table. Smells of freshly baked bread and cooking meats greet you. You suddenly realize that you are very hungry as if you have not eaten in weeks. The monk gestures to a seat on one of the long benches, while another places a plate heaping with food before you. A voice whispers behind you, "Come take your fill. There is plenty here for all."
[Misenseor Abbey, Library]
The musty scent of ancient parchment and leather permeates this small room, giving one cause to wonder how long since another has walked these floors. An unnatural chill fills the air, most likely never to be dispelled by the warmth of any mortal fire. Cobwebs lie like lacy veils over many of the room's furnishings. A finely embroidered tapestry hangs over the mantel of a small fireplace. Strangely a hushed stillness lies over the room, nagging at the back of the mind.
Obvious exits: south.
>l tape
This simple tapestry seems out of place. As if just mounted on the wall by its creator, the black silk bears not a sign of dust or age, and its silvery threads form words that reflect brilliantly the dimmest of light.
>r tape
The letters seem to shift and shimmer as you read the ancient text.
Aena scador vi hoyiro dael,
Ha li gar rae li zo aena germish sanyu.
Rae li shar-no halmir li shabi...
Zo cambri!
We prepare an ascending path
By the hand of the one we name divine
Of the west-would come the student...
One magic!
Li zo dael rae li gaenwen,
Aena olkar gweld ri li abule ve li misekar.
Rae li ner-no halmir li alyden...
Zo gweld!
The one path of the children
We hold death to the heart in the end
Of the south-would come the holy man…
One death!
Naen kerwaith kus kho li zo,
Li aevarnit pomger blar sudu li andu-no halmir.
Rae li pol-no halmir li tyvalger...
Zo ess!
All pass on but the one,
The watcher who guards when the day-would come.
Of the north-would come the thief...
One deed!
Sudu li feir safir li shosu,
Ia li shosu safir li gaen.
Rae li du-no halmir li cui gwernit...
Zo cubara!
When the old become the new,
And the new become the people.
Of the east-would come the speaker...
One poem!
Sudu li kai gaena esar safir zo
Aena safir morlam cam li kerwaitha rae ai andu
Aena naen phofe rae li sumilo
Sudu li lasadel khalor li gaenwen tref.
When the four they do become one
We become strong with the passage of the? day
We all dream of the midnight
When the lady leads the children home.
Old Crossing Temple
[The Iris Rim, Hallway] A dark marble arch stands patiently to the northeast, its base melding seamlessly with the granite that comprises this curving passage. Any who dare skirt the rim's inner edge risk a cliff-like fall through open air, only a slight breeze standing between this ledge and the white marble tiles below. Also here: Fateweaver Caelumia. Obvious paths: clockwise, widdershins. J> Caelumia says, "Alright, you need to take off any gweths and albredine." J>stow You feel fully rested. J> You put your orb in your burlap backpack. J> Caelumia puts her orb in her messenger bag. J>rem gwet You take off a silver kyanite gwethdesuan. The chorus of foreign thoughts fades. J>stow You put your gwethdesuan in your burlap backpack. J>rem gwet You take off a silver jadeite gwethdesuan. The babble of foreign thoughts fades. Ah, blessed silence! J>stow You put your gwethdesuan in your burlap backpack. J> Caelumia gets a sana'ati pilgrim's badge varnished to a dusky sheen from inside her leather coat. J> Caelumia slides an albredine crystal ring off her finger. J> Caelumia puts her ring in her messenger bag. J> Caelumia takes off a silver kyanite gwethdesuan. J> Caelumia puts her gwethdesuan in her messenger bag. J> One of the ivory spirits orbiting your left wrist suddenly halts, causing those behind it to slam into it! The impact jumpstarts the first back into motion, thankfully. J> Fateweaver Caelumia's group went through a dark grey marble arch. [The Iris Rim, Shrine of Destruction] The walls of this room are formed of smooth black trachyte, the reflective surface carved with images of Gorbesh soldiers ransacking and pillaging the former temple. Resting in the center of the shrine, a dull iron altar leans awkwardly, its base cracked and broken. A fierce depiction of the power of destruction, this room is an eerie reminder that nothing is eternal. You also see a dark grey marble arch. Also here: Fateweaver Caelumia. Obvious exits: none. J> $SAY "Now you just meditate." J> You see a faint glow from your backpack. J> You see a faint glow from the bag on Caelumia. J>"Heh
"Heh"
J> $SAY "If you take too long your heart will stop." J>Plugin Send: whis cael $SAY "Now you just meditate." You whisper to Caelumia, "$SAY "Now you just meditate."" J>nod Caelumia falls into a deep trance. > This is a place that requires quiet. Perhaps you should do that elsewhere. >l [The Iris Rim, Shrine of Destruction] The walls of this room are formed of smooth black trachyte, the reflective surface carved with images of Gorbesh soldiers ransacking and pillaging the former temple. Resting in the center of the shrine, a dull iron altar leans awkwardly, its base cracked and broken. A fierce depiction of the power of destruction, this room is an eerie reminder that nothing is eternal. You also see a dark grey marble arch. Also here: Fateweaver Caelumia. Obvious exits: none. >l arch You see nothing unusual. >kneel This is a place that requires quiet. Perhaps you should do that elsewhere. >meditate
Eyes momentarily closed, you concentrate on your breathing, consciously taking slow, deep, relaxed breaths. Roundtime: 8 sec. R> Your concentration crumbles away to nothing. >l [The Iris Rim, Shrine of Destruction] The walls of this room are formed of smooth black trachyte, the reflective surface carved with images of Gorbesh soldiers ransacking and pillaging the former temple. Resting in the center of the shrine, a dull iron altar leans awkwardly, its base cracked and broken. A fierce depiction of the power of destruction, this room is an eerie reminder that nothing is eternal. You also see a dark grey marble arch. Also here: Fateweaver Caelumia. Obvious exits: none. >meditate
Eyes momentarily closed, you concentrate on your breathing, consciously taking slow, deep, relaxed breaths. Roundtime: 8 sec. R>meditate ...wait 1 seconds. R>Plugin Send: meditate
You focus your attention to the essence within yourself, and by force of will ignore any distraction around you. Roundtime: 8 sec. R>meditate
Body controlled, and distractions to the mind calmed, your perception of time and place shifts from the here and now, to the then and there. Roundtime: 8 sec. R>meditate ...wait 1 seconds. R>Plugin Send: meditate You concentrate deeply and the core of your intent suddenly leaves your body with a loud *POP*.
Your intent slowly shapes itself into a form closely resembling your physical body.
[Temple, Shrine of Destruction] Black painted walls and a dull iron altar give dark homage to Urrem'tier, the personification of the destructive force of the Planes. Few come here save those to whom all hope is lost and those to whom destruction is a goal to be achieved. But even here are lessons to be learned. All things mortal will in time pass and be destroyed. Perhaps, in the end, only Death is eternal. Obvious exits: west. >meditate You gather your intent and concentrate it on returning to your body.
[The Iris Rim, Shrine of Destruction] The walls of this room are formed of smooth black trachyte, the reflective surface carved with images of Gorbesh soldiers ransacking and pillaging the former temple. Resting in the center of the shrine, a dull iron altar leans awkwardly, its base cracked and broken. A fierce depiction of the power of destruction, this room is an eerie reminder that nothing is eternal. You also see a dark grey marble arch. Also here: Fateweaver Caelumia. Obvious exits: none. >meditate You attempt to meditate, but have trouble concentrating. >meditate You attempt to meditate, but have trouble concentrating. >meditate You attempt to meditate, but have trouble concentrating. >g arc [The Iris Rim, Hallway] A dark marble arch stands patiently to the northeast, its base melding seamlessly with the granite that comprises this curving passage. Any who dare skirt the rim's inner edge risk a cliff-like fall through open air, only a slight breeze standing between this ledge and the white marble tiles below. Obvious paths: clockwise, widdershins. >per You feel that your unwavering faith and devotion is allowing you to detect great amounts of extra Holy mana. You reach out with your senses and see flickering streams (8/21) of golden Holy mana radiating through the area. Letting your senses extend further, you feel there is somewhat less mana to the widdershins, and immensely more mana to the clockwise. You sense the Protection from Evil spell upon you, which should last for at least an anlas. Roundtime: 5 sec. R> Fateweaver Caelumia came through a dark grey marble arch. R>"Vigil You say, "Vigil." >g clo [The Iris Rim, Hallway] From the edge of the Rim, myriad mahogany benches begin their graceful procession down into the bowl of Ve Aevan Gaenan, every seating area intent on the High Altar. Appearing for a moment like the delicate sheen of a silken fabric, lines of pale yellow light trace shifting patterns over the white plaster walls, wavering in time with a slight breeze that tickles over the sconces circling the ledge's perimeter. Obvious paths: clockwise, widdershins. > Caelumia just arrived. >prep vigil Since you're not feeding enough power into the spell pattern to make it coherent, you quickly work your way to the minimum required. That won't affect your current attunement very much. The wailing of lost souls accompanies your preparations of the Vigil spell. > Caelumia acts puzzled. > Caelumia just tried to join you but you avoided her. >"One moment You say, "One moment." > You feel fully prepared to cast your spell. >harn 15 > You tap into the mana from fifteen of the surrounding streams and attempt to keep it channeling in a stream around you. Roundtime: 3 seconds R>harn 15 You tap into the mana from fifteen of the surrounding streams and add it to the significant amount already streaming around you. Roundtime: 3 seconds R>harn 15 ...wait 1 seconds. >Plugin Send: harn 15 You tap into the mana from fifteen of the surrounding streams and add it to the large amount already streaming around you. Roundtime: 3 seconds R>harn 15 You tap into the mana from fifteen of the surrounding streams and add it to the massive amount already streaming around you. Roundtime: 3 seconds R>cast ...wait 1 seconds. >Plugin Send: cast You gesture. The mana you were holding contributes to the spell. You are unable to keep some of the mana from leaking out of the spell pattern. A shaft of brilliant white light descends from the heavens, bathing you in its radiance. Your spirit sings with a sudden added vigor. >g wid [The Iris Rim, Hallway] A dark marble arch stands patiently to the northeast, its base melding seamlessly with the granite that comprises this curving passage. Any who dare skirt the rim's inner edge risk a cliff-like fall through open air, only a slight breeze standing between this ledge and the white marble tiles below. Obvious paths: clockwise, widdershins. >l arc You see nothing unusual. >g arc [The Iris Rim, Shrine of Destruction] The walls of this room are formed of smooth black trachyte, the reflective surface carved with images of Gorbesh soldiers ransacking and pillaging the former temple. Resting in the center of the shrine, a dull iron altar leans awkwardly, its base cracked and broken. A fierce depiction of the power of destruction, this room is an eerie reminder that nothing is eternal. You also see a dark grey marble arch. Obvious exits: none. >l wall Within the unsettling images of the majestic temple spires crumbling and figures kneeling in hopeless prayer, you see your own reflection gazing back at you. >l alt Cast of iron, dull grey and pitted, this altar is cold and lifeless. A thin coating of rust covers its surface. The words "Even Death We Master" are scrawled across the altar, defacing even destruction. >l second wall I could not find what you were referring to. >l arc You see nothing unusual. >meditate You attempt to meditate, but have trouble concentrating. >meditate You attempt to meditate, but have trouble concentrating. > Fateweaver Caelumia came through a dark grey marble arch. >mutt This is a place that requires quiet. Perhaps you should do that elsewhere. > You feel fully attuned to the mana streams again. > Caelumia falls into a deep trance. >meditate You attempt to meditate, but have trouble concentrating. > The ivory spirits suddenly accelerate their chase of one another, causing their circular orbit to collapse and become more elliptical. >l [The Iris Rim, Shrine of Destruction] The walls of this room are formed of smooth black trachyte, the reflective surface carved with images of Gorbesh soldiers ransacking and pillaging the former temple. Resting in the center of the shrine, a dull iron altar leans awkwardly, its base cracked and broken. A fierce depiction of the power of destruction, this room is an eerie reminder that nothing is eternal. You also see a dark grey marble arch. Also here: Fateweaver Caelumia. Obvious exits: none. >meditate
Eyes momentarily closed, you concentrate on your breathing, consciously taking slow, deep, relaxed breaths. Roundtime: 8 sec. R>meditate
You focus your attention to the essence within yourself, and by force of will ignore any distraction around you. Roundtime: 8 sec. R> Your concentration crumbles away to nothing. >meditate
Eyes momentarily closed, you concentrate on your breathing, consciously taking slow, deep, relaxed breaths. Roundtime: 8 sec. R>meditate
You focus your attention to the essence within yourself, and by force of will ignore any distraction around you. Roundtime: 8 sec. R>meditate
Body controlled, and distractions to the mind calmed, your perception of time and place shifts from the here and now, to the then and there. Roundtime: 8 sec. R>meditate ...wait 5 seconds. R>Plugin Send: meditate You concentrate deeply and the core of your intent suddenly leaves your body with a loud *POP*.
Your intent slowly shapes itself into a form closely resembling your physical body.
[Temple, Shrine of Destruction] Black painted walls and a dull iron altar give dark homage to Urrem'tier, the personification of the destructive force of the Planes. Few come here save those to whom all hope is lost and those to whom destruction is a goal to be achieved. But even here are lessons to be learned. All things mortal will in time pass and be destroyed. Perhaps, in the end, only Death is eternal. Obvious exits: west. >l wall I could not find what you were referring to. >l alt The altar looks a bit dusty.
Cast of iron, dull grey and pitted, this altar is cold and lifeless. A thin coating of rust covers it, reminding you that nothing is permanent and only Death wins in the end. >Plugin Send: w You focus your intent to move.
[Temple, Sanctum] You stand in awe at the size of the Temple. The domed ceiling towers overhead and is painted with scenes of mythology and lore. The room is a huge open space devoid of pillar or obstruction. The floor is tiled in a rainbow of hues that form a pleasing melange of color. Soft rugs, intricately woven, cover much of the floor. Smaller shrines line the walls and the High Altar sits in the geometric center of the Temple. Thus may all approach the altar and all feel part of the services. You also see the Temple's massive bronze doors. Obvious exits: north, northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, northwest. >l doo You see nothing unusual. >l ceil I could not find what you were referring to. >l rug I could not find what you were referring to. >l shrine I could not find what you were referring to. >l alt A simple table, carved from pure white alabaster, the high altar of the temple gleams softly in the subdued light. A perpetual fire burns in a silver vessel upon it, the sweet smoke drifting upwards to carry the prayers of those who come here. Many people will leave a small token to be consumed in the eternal fire as a means of gaining grace or as a gesture of thanks for their blessings. Some consider the ashes of this fire to be a holy thing. >peer n You feel unable to concentrate enough to do that. >Plugin Send: n You focus your intent to move.
[Temple, Chapel of Death] Black is the Chapel of Death. Sombre drapes mute the chill of the stone walls a bit. Thick incense rises from plain iron braziers and somewhere, slow, sad music can be heard. Tall black candles flicker along the walls and shed a drear light over all. You are reminded of the brief time alloted to life and the grim neccesity for death in all things. A low stone table, an altar or mortuary slab made of dull black coral, cold and lifeless, awaits the time of death and of mourning. Obvious exits: south. >l table [Assuming you mean a mortuary slab.] Carved of dead black coral, bare of decoration or ornament, the slab sits, waiting for the dead. There is a chill air of finality to the sharp-edged corners and smooth surface. It appeals to you for some odd reason. You feel drawn to place yourself on its cold surface and give yourself up to endless sleep. No more cares. No more worries. No pain or sorrow, only nothingness. >Plugin Send: s You focus your intent to move.
[Temple, Sanctum] You stand in awe at the size of the Temple. The domed ceiling towers overhead and is painted with scenes of mythology and lore. The room is a huge open space devoid of pillar or obstruction. The floor is tiled in a rainbow of hues that form a pleasing melange of color. Soft rugs, intricately woven, cover much of the floor. Smaller shrines line the walls and the High Altar sits in the geometric center of the Temple. Thus may all approach the altar and all feel part of the services. You also see the Temple's massive bronze doors. Obvious exits: north, northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, northwest. >Plugin Send: nw You focus your intent to move.
[Temple, Warrior's Shrine]
Plugin Echo: Automapper: tried to add room description
Obvious exits: southeast. >l [Temple, Warrior's Shrine]
Plugin Echo: Automapper: tried to add room description
Obvious exits: southeast. >Plugin Send: se You focus your intent to move.
[Temple, Sanctum] You stand in awe at the size of the Temple. The domed ceiling towers overhead and is painted with scenes of mythology and lore. The room is a huge open space devoid of pillar or obstruction. The floor is tiled in a rainbow of hues that form a pleasing melange of color. Soft rugs, intricately woven, cover much of the floor. Smaller shrines line the walls and the High Altar sits in the geometric center of the Temple. Thus may all approach the altar and all feel part of the services. You also see the Temple's massive bronze doors. Obvious exits: north, northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, northwest. >Plugin Send: ne You focus your intent to move.
[Temple, Shrine of Outwardness] Here is paid homage to those whose skills are manifest outwards to the world. The Paladin who leads others both into and out of danger. The Bard who, with music, soothes an aching heart. The Trader who brings food and clothing to the lives around him. Each has a place in the world. A low table is set with small candles burning in remembrance of favors given or aid received from those enshrined here. Obvious exits: southwest. > Plugin Echo: [06-Dec-2009, 6: 30: 00 PM] l pala I could not find what you were referring to. >l table You see nothing unusual. >l on table You can't seem to concentrate enough to do that. >Plugin Send: sw You focus your intent to move.
[Temple, Sanctum] You stand in awe at the size of the Temple. The domed ceiling towers overhead and is painted with scenes of mythology and lore. The room is a huge open space devoid of pillar or obstruction. The floor is tiled in a rainbow of hues that form a pleasing melange of color. Soft rugs, intricately woven, cover much of the floor. Smaller shrines line the walls and the High Altar sits in the geometric center of the Temple. Thus may all approach the altar and all feel part of the services. You also see the Temple's massive bronze doors. Obvious exits: north, northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, northwest. >Plugin Send: w You focus your intent to move.
[Temple, Shrine of Healing] Here is homage given to those who aid the broken in mind and body. This shrine is devoted to the Empath and to the Cleric. The walls are decorated with symbols of life and of the power of life over death. Above a small altar of ivory, is a painting showing a Cleric and an Empath, striving together amidst the blood and carnage of a battlefield to bring life and hope back to those laid low by the folly of mortals. Obvious exits: east. >l alt The altar looks a bit dusty.
>l paint The empath struggles to heal a broken body that lies lifeless and pale. A cleric nearby collapses in exhaustion as a fallen bard gasps the first breath of restored life, the bard still grasping a silver flute tightly in one hand and an arrow in the other. You feel your concentration wavering. >l paint The empath struggles to heal a broken body that lies lifeless and pale. A cleric nearby collapses in exhaustion as a fallen bard gasps the first breath of restored life, the bard still grasping a silver flute tightly in one hand and an arrow in the other. >Plugin Send: e You focus your intent to move.
[Temple, Sanctum] You stand in awe at the size of the Temple. The domed ceiling towers overhead and is painted with scenes of mythology and lore. The room is a huge open space devoid of pillar or obstruction. The floor is tiled in a rainbow of hues that form a pleasing melange of color. Soft rugs, intricately woven, cover much of the floor. Smaller shrines line the walls and the High Altar sits in the geometric center of the Temple. Thus may all approach the altar and all feel part of the services. You also see the Temple's massive bronze doors. Obvious exits: north, northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, northwest.
A monk races by, clutching some scrolls to his body. Close behind him are two Gorbesh soldiers. They overtake the monk, and heedless of his pleas for mercy, slit his throat. One bends to snatch up the scroll, then they dash off through the corridors.
>Plugin Send: sw You focus your intent to move.
[Temple, Shrine of Thought]
Plugin Echo: Automapper: tried to add room description
Obvious exits: northeast. You feel your concentration wavering. >Plugin Send: ne You focus your intent to move.
[Temple, Sanctum] You stand in awe at the size of the Temple. The domed ceiling towers overhead and is painted with scenes of mythology and lore. The room is a huge open space devoid of pillar or obstruction. The floor is tiled in a rainbow of hues that form a pleasing melange of color. Soft rugs, intricately woven, cover much of the floor. Smaller shrines line the walls and the High Altar sits in the geometric center of the Temple. Thus may all approach the altar and all feel part of the services. You also see the Temple's massive bronze doors. Obvious exits: north, northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, northwest. >Plugin Send: se You focus your intent to move.
[Temple, Shrine of Foresight] This shrine is devoted to those who attempt to part the mists that separate us from the future. A low table is set with a crystal bowl filled with water, its surface still and smooth and calm. One wall holds a painting of a Moon Mage, deep in a trance, face shadowed so you cannot say if the figure be male or female. Obvious exits: northwest. You feel your concentration wavering. >l table You see nothing unusual. >l paint The Moon Mage is posed with an inner stillness, the whole figure tense with concentration. >Plugin Send: nw You focus your intent to move.
[Temple, Sanctum] You stand in awe at the size of the Temple. The domed ceiling towers overhead and is painted with scenes of mythology and lore. The room is a huge open space devoid of pillar or obstruction. The floor is tiled in a rainbow of hues that form a pleasing melange of color. Soft rugs, intricately woven, cover much of the floor. Smaller shrines line the walls and the High Altar sits in the geometric center of the Temple. Thus may all approach the altar and all feel part of the services. You also see the Temple's massive bronze doors. Obvious exits: north, northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, northwest. >g doo You float through the Temple's massive bronze doors.
[Temple, Grand Entrance] You stand at the entrance to the Temple itself. A colonnade of white marble stretches east and west. Directly before you rise the great bronze valves of the entrance. A censer set upon a silver tripod gives out clouds of sweet-smelling incense and freshens the none-too-pure air of the town itself. Far above rises a spire containing the great bells used to announce death and birth and marriages and other events of major importance. You also see the main stairs leading down to the Temple's forecourt. Obvious exits: east, west, up.
You feel your concentration dissolve away to nothing, shattering your dreaming form.
[The Iris Rim, Shrine of Destruction] The walls of this room are formed of smooth black trachyte, the reflective surface carved with images of Gorbesh soldiers ransacking and pillaging the former temple. Resting in the center of the shrine, a dull iron altar leans awkwardly, its base cracked and broken. A fierce depiction of the power of destruction, this room is an eerie reminder that nothing is eternal. You also see a dark grey marble arch. Also here: Fateweaver Caelumia. Obvious exits: none.
Your heart suddenly gives out under the strain.
A monk quickly drags you out. [The Iris Rim, Hallway] A dark marble arch stands patiently to the northeast, its base melding seamlessly with the granite that comprises this curving passage. Any who dare skirt the rim's inner edge risk a cliff-like fall through open air, only a slight breeze standing between this ledge and the white marble tiles below. Obvious paths: clockwise, widdershins.
* Cazvelu was just struck down!
The soft white glow fades from around you. Your death cry echoes in your brain as it quickly dawns on you that you have just died! Already, you feel the tug of eternity upon your spirit and you struggle to remain tied to this world.
You are somewhat comforted that you have gained favor with your God and are in no danger of walking the Starry Road, never to return.
Your body will decay beyond its ability to hold your soul in 62 minutes. DEAD> Fateweaver Caelumia came through a dark grey marble arch. DEAD> Caelumia says, "I did tell you." DEAD>mutt You are a ghost! You must wait until someone resurrects you, or you decay. Either way, it won't be long now! (HELP for more details). DEAD>snort You are a ghost! You must wait until someone resurrects you, or you decay. Either way, it won't be long now! (HELP for more details). DEAD>snicker You are a ghost! You must wait until someone resurrects you, or you decay. Either way, it won't be long now! (HELP for more details). DEAD>lol You laugh, the sepulchral sound echoing through the room. DEAD> The soft white glow fades from around Caelumia. DEAD> Caelumia says, "You may wish to depart, frankly." DEAD>depart items
You feel yourself lifted gently, cradled as if by a mother's hand.
You suddenly find yourself floating upward, the light dimming slowly around you. Eventually, everything vanishes as the distance increases and you are enveloped by a sparkling panorama of brilliantly lit stars.
[The Starry Road] You find yourself walking along a road like one you have never seen before. Spread out before you is a stream of light, paved with stars and bounded by every constellation and planet you had ever seen while a mortal, only now more vibrant and somehow alive. Also in the room: The Starry Host Obvious exits: north >
You walk forward, putting one foot in front of the other, wandering closer to something which never seems nearer. Time, space and distance have no meaning in this place, leaving you feeling nothing but a strange peace tempered by a prickly feeling that your destiny is not yet finished.
After what seems an eternity, you reach a gate. Before you stands a stoney-faced being who gives you a hard look before saying, "Were it not for the love of Truffenyi, your soul would be lost to the Void. Do not squander his gift." With a swift movement of his hand you suddenly feel yourself pulled back to the land of the living.
You feel a burst of pain as you gasp in a deep breath! All around you the world spins rapidly and you get the feeling you are falling from a great distance. After a moment, the spinning stops and you realize with joy that you are alive...