Legends Unbound. (Adventure in the Trojan Saga and Try to Survive.)
- Thread starter Magoose
- Start date
- Original Fantasy
[X] ...So how's the weather down here?
[JK] Behold, ye youn' un ol', tis' I OOOOOOODDDIIINNNN. *Storms gather above and lightning flashes*
Fates:
This conversation is gonna be epic. Can't wait.
[JK] Behold, ye youn' un ol', tis' I OOOOOOODDDIIINNNN. *Storms gather above and lightning flashes*
Fates:
This conversation is gonna be epic. Can't wait.
Vote closed
At least Theo isnt dead and currently not on a rescue mission to bring someone back to life.
Duke William of
I really need to finish my quests. :V
- Pronouns
- He/Him
All we have to do is not be dumb and follow instructions.
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
… no im not going to troll.
You may not troll us but what about the dice?
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
So it's not because we want to go to the underworld to recruit allies and pet the goodest boy in all of mythology?
0bviously is because we asked Charon to see his coin collection.So it's not because we want to go to the underworld to recruit allies and pet the goodest boy in all of mythology?
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
The fates can't be killed.
But you are Fateless, so you can't be killed by their machinations.
Funny how things work like that.
You say machinations... can they physically kill us?The fates can't be killed.
But you are Fateless, so you can't be killed by their machinations.
Funny how things work like that.
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
They can't, because if they stopped to try and kill us... fate would be broken, and well... bad things would happen.
- Location
- Anchorage, Alaska
The fates can't be killed.
But you are Fateless, so you can't be killed by their machinations.
Funny how things work like that.
can we steal their eye, give them 3 fake wooden eyes, and then tell them one of them has the real eye to troll them for eternity?
the real eye we give to hades or something as a gift.
Book 1: The Styx
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
Book 1: The Styx
[X] ...So how's the weather down here?
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Three Fates, with their single shared eye, continued their work, weaving the intricate tapestry of fate with an eerie precision. The threads they spun were delicate yet unyielding, each one a life, a destiny, measured and cut according to their inscrutable design. You watched in silent awe as the final threads they handled vanished into nothingness, disappearing before they even touched the waters of the River Styx. The sight was both mesmerizing and unsettling—a glimpse into the divine workings that governed the cosmos, far beyond the comprehension of any mortal.
Yet, in the midst of that overwhelming dread, you found a strange source of stability in young Zagreus. Despite his divine lineage, he stood beside you, his fear as palpable as your own. His usual defiance was absent, replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored your own.
There was something almost instinctual in your reaction to him. Seeing Zagreus, so young and fearful despite his godhood, stirred a protective instinct within you. It wasn't courage that drove you, but a deep-seated need to shield him from the horrors that surrounded you both. Even though Zagreus had lived his entire life in the shadow of these ancient powers, you found yourself moving unconsciously closer to him, as if to place yourself between him and the dreadful forces at work.
As you stood there, the boatman Charon regarded you with an unwavering gaze. His eyes, glowing with an ethereal blue flame, seemed to pierce through you, as if he could see the very essence of your being. He made no move, waiting patiently, the ferryman of souls who had seen countless beings cross into the underworld. His silence was unnerving, a stark contrast to the quiet, ominous work of the Fates.
Then, breaking the tension, Zagreus spoke. With a deliberate motion, he tossed two coins toward Charon, their metallic clink echoing in the stillness of the cavern. The coins gleamed briefly in the dim light before disappearing into the darkness. "He will come," Zagreus said, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed the fear he tried to conceal.
Charon's gaze shifted from you to Zagreus, the blue flames in his eyes flickering as he acknowledged the offering. Without a word, he took the oar in his skeletal hands and began to guide the boat across the River Styx. The water, black and lifeless, parted silently before the boat, creating a path deeper into the underworld.
As the boat moved forward, you couldn't shake the feeling of being drawn into something far greater than yourself. The river seemed to stretch endlessly before you, a dark mirror reflecting the inevitability of fate. The Fates continued their weaving, the threads of destiny slipping through their fingers, and you couldn't help but wonder where your thread would lead—how it might be spun, measured, and cut by those ancient hands.
The Fates Reaction:D20 + 8 => 25
Finally, you settled down beside Zagreus, the tension of the moment weighing heavily on you both. The boat glided smoothly across the dark waters of the Styx, the oppressive silence only broken by the rhythmic splash of Charon's oar. Zagreus, still shaken, watched the Three Fates with a mixture of fear and fascination, his eyes wide as he tried to make sense of their presence.
In the midst of this eerie quiet, you found yourself compelled to break the silence. The atmosphere was thick with the gravity of the situation, yet perhaps it was that very intensity that drove you to do something unexpected. You turned your gaze to the Three Fates, their forms still shifting subtly as they worked, and with a dry throat and a forced casualness, you asked, "So, how's the weather down here?"
Zagreus blinked in astonishment, clearly taken aback by your question. He had faced many dangers, many horrors, but even he wasn't prepared for someone to address the Moirai with such casual irreverence. The boy's mouth opened as if to say something, perhaps to warn you or to apologize on your behalf, but no words came. Instead, he remained silent, his eyes flicking nervously between you and the Fates.
For a moment, the air seemed to freeze, the tension hanging like a blade over your head. The Three Fates, who had been so absorbed in their weaving, paused in their work. Their single eye, which they shared, turned slowly to regard you, its gaze ancient and inscrutable. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, until finally, Clotho, the Spinner, spoke.
"We try to destroy you, for changing the designs," she began, her voice a soft, eerie echo that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. There was no malice in her tone, only a statement of fact as if she were recounting a long-forgotten story.
Lachesis, the Allotter, continued without missing a beat, her voice smooth and measured, "Yet all we see is the machinations of our weave spin around you, out of our grasp." There was a hint of frustration in her words as if the threads she measured refused to obey her will when it came to you.
Finally, Atropos, the Inexorable, the one who cut the thread of life, concluded with a voice that was both weary and amused, "And even as you speak, you choose humor when others would ask their destiny." Her voice held a note of curiosity, as though your response, so unexpected and so contrary to the gravity of the situation, was a puzzle even she could not easily solve.
The three of them resumed their weaving, their hands moving in perfect unison, but now their focus was split. They were no longer solely intent on their threads; they were also watching you, assessing, measuring, and perhaps even reevaluating your place in the grand design they so meticulously crafted.
Then, as if moved by a single, collective will, the Three Fates spoke in unison. Their voices merged into one, creating a sound so powerful it seemed to reverberate through the very fabric of existence. The air around you trembled, the ground beneath the boat shuddered, and the waters of the River Styx rippled violently in response. It was a sound that transcended mere words, carrying with it the weight of countless lifetimes, of every choice ever made and every fate ever sealed.
"Why?" they intoned, their combined voice a force of nature, deep and resonant, shaking the earth itself. The single word hung in the air, an echo that seemed to stretch beyond the confines of the underworld, reaching into the farthest corners of the universe.
You only sat and looked at them all. "Because if I die, then I die doing what I choose, rather than what is chosen for me. But I hope it won't happen for a long time."
The three fates only looked at you, with something that was not bewilderment but…
Something else entirely. It was something that you did not even begin to fathom to know exactly what it was.
But they continued their work as if nothing had happened if nothing had ever happened.
Before as you blinked, they were gone.
-----------------------------------------------
As you arrived at Hades' Palace, the grandeur of the palace was not something you could notice, as the Lord of Darkness and the Underworld, was standing at the dock with his family.
You took a breath as you saw Cerberus sitting down next to his master, and you saw all three heads want to run on over to play with you and Zagreus.
But instead, you gulped, as he boomed. "Give me one reason as to not destroy you right now, for violating the path of life and death?"
What do you say?:
[]Write in
[X] ...So how's the weather down here?
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Three Fates, with their single shared eye, continued their work, weaving the intricate tapestry of fate with an eerie precision. The threads they spun were delicate yet unyielding, each one a life, a destiny, measured and cut according to their inscrutable design. You watched in silent awe as the final threads they handled vanished into nothingness, disappearing before they even touched the waters of the River Styx. The sight was both mesmerizing and unsettling—a glimpse into the divine workings that governed the cosmos, far beyond the comprehension of any mortal.
Yet, in the midst of that overwhelming dread, you found a strange source of stability in young Zagreus. Despite his divine lineage, he stood beside you, his fear as palpable as your own. His usual defiance was absent, replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored your own.
There was something almost instinctual in your reaction to him. Seeing Zagreus, so young and fearful despite his godhood, stirred a protective instinct within you. It wasn't courage that drove you, but a deep-seated need to shield him from the horrors that surrounded you both. Even though Zagreus had lived his entire life in the shadow of these ancient powers, you found yourself moving unconsciously closer to him, as if to place yourself between him and the dreadful forces at work.
As you stood there, the boatman Charon regarded you with an unwavering gaze. His eyes, glowing with an ethereal blue flame, seemed to pierce through you, as if he could see the very essence of your being. He made no move, waiting patiently, the ferryman of souls who had seen countless beings cross into the underworld. His silence was unnerving, a stark contrast to the quiet, ominous work of the Fates.
Then, breaking the tension, Zagreus spoke. With a deliberate motion, he tossed two coins toward Charon, their metallic clink echoing in the stillness of the cavern. The coins gleamed briefly in the dim light before disappearing into the darkness. "He will come," Zagreus said, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed the fear he tried to conceal.
Charon's gaze shifted from you to Zagreus, the blue flames in his eyes flickering as he acknowledged the offering. Without a word, he took the oar in his skeletal hands and began to guide the boat across the River Styx. The water, black and lifeless, parted silently before the boat, creating a path deeper into the underworld.
As the boat moved forward, you couldn't shake the feeling of being drawn into something far greater than yourself. The river seemed to stretch endlessly before you, a dark mirror reflecting the inevitability of fate. The Fates continued their weaving, the threads of destiny slipping through their fingers, and you couldn't help but wonder where your thread would lead—how it might be spun, measured, and cut by those ancient hands.
The Fates Reaction:D20 + 8 => 25
Finally, you settled down beside Zagreus, the tension of the moment weighing heavily on you both. The boat glided smoothly across the dark waters of the Styx, the oppressive silence only broken by the rhythmic splash of Charon's oar. Zagreus, still shaken, watched the Three Fates with a mixture of fear and fascination, his eyes wide as he tried to make sense of their presence.
In the midst of this eerie quiet, you found yourself compelled to break the silence. The atmosphere was thick with the gravity of the situation, yet perhaps it was that very intensity that drove you to do something unexpected. You turned your gaze to the Three Fates, their forms still shifting subtly as they worked, and with a dry throat and a forced casualness, you asked, "So, how's the weather down here?"
Zagreus blinked in astonishment, clearly taken aback by your question. He had faced many dangers, many horrors, but even he wasn't prepared for someone to address the Moirai with such casual irreverence. The boy's mouth opened as if to say something, perhaps to warn you or to apologize on your behalf, but no words came. Instead, he remained silent, his eyes flicking nervously between you and the Fates.
For a moment, the air seemed to freeze, the tension hanging like a blade over your head. The Three Fates, who had been so absorbed in their weaving, paused in their work. Their single eye, which they shared, turned slowly to regard you, its gaze ancient and inscrutable. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, until finally, Clotho, the Spinner, spoke.
"We try to destroy you, for changing the designs," she began, her voice a soft, eerie echo that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. There was no malice in her tone, only a statement of fact as if she were recounting a long-forgotten story.
Lachesis, the Allotter, continued without missing a beat, her voice smooth and measured, "Yet all we see is the machinations of our weave spin around you, out of our grasp." There was a hint of frustration in her words as if the threads she measured refused to obey her will when it came to you.
Finally, Atropos, the Inexorable, the one who cut the thread of life, concluded with a voice that was both weary and amused, "And even as you speak, you choose humor when others would ask their destiny." Her voice held a note of curiosity, as though your response, so unexpected and so contrary to the gravity of the situation, was a puzzle even she could not easily solve.
The three of them resumed their weaving, their hands moving in perfect unison, but now their focus was split. They were no longer solely intent on their threads; they were also watching you, assessing, measuring, and perhaps even reevaluating your place in the grand design they so meticulously crafted.
Then, as if moved by a single, collective will, the Three Fates spoke in unison. Their voices merged into one, creating a sound so powerful it seemed to reverberate through the very fabric of existence. The air around you trembled, the ground beneath the boat shuddered, and the waters of the River Styx rippled violently in response. It was a sound that transcended mere words, carrying with it the weight of countless lifetimes, of every choice ever made and every fate ever sealed.
"Why?" they intoned, their combined voice a force of nature, deep and resonant, shaking the earth itself. The single word hung in the air, an echo that seemed to stretch beyond the confines of the underworld, reaching into the farthest corners of the universe.
You only sat and looked at them all. "Because if I die, then I die doing what I choose, rather than what is chosen for me. But I hope it won't happen for a long time."
The three fates only looked at you, with something that was not bewilderment but…
Something else entirely. It was something that you did not even begin to fathom to know exactly what it was.
But they continued their work as if nothing had happened if nothing had ever happened.
Before as you blinked, they were gone.
-----------------------------------------------
As you arrived at Hades' Palace, the grandeur of the palace was not something you could notice, as the Lord of Darkness and the Underworld, was standing at the dock with his family.
You took a breath as you saw Cerberus sitting down next to his master, and you saw all three heads want to run on over to play with you and Zagreus.
But instead, you gulped, as he boomed. "Give me one reason as to not destroy you right now, for violating the path of life and death?"
What do you say?:
[]Write in
Duke William of
I really need to finish my quests. :V
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Apparently, not giving a dang got us on the Fates' good side, which actually makes a lot of sense. They've probably heard a thousand times kings, queens, warriors, and all the other arrogant yahoos attempt to hear what their fate is are most likely going to try to avoid that same fate(and die because of that). Theo's nonchalant but still serious stance is probably refreshing compared to all that.
[X] Because Cerberus would be sad if you did that.
-[X] Walk over to Cerberus and have Cerberus make puppy eyes at Hades.
Edit:
[X]Write in: I mean the door did open on itself when i knocked it.
Have to admit, it's not wrong.
Last edited:
[X]Write in: I mean the door did open on itself when I knocked it.
That is a solid defense.
That is a solid defense.
Last edited:
- Pronouns
- Zack
[X]Write in: I mean the door did open on itself when i knocked it.
