Long List of Grudges IC (Isekai RP)

[MiracleGrow]

'Have faith in me and follow the instructions I have given. But above all else, do not take off your blind fold. Please, I rather you not die a fate worse than death. ' Is the last reassuring words you hear from the Queen as you go about setting up the ritual.

The world shift spell was a relatively simple one, a small circle of blood around the user. Then placing a blind fold over your eyes. A blind fold that must not come off until you hear a special magical code word. The Queen told you that her research has shown that all spells that transport others across the worlds always in some way inhibit the sight of those being summoned. Those who are not blinded have their souls seared out of them by some unknown force. Leaving an empty husk behind to rot away into dust.

At first, nothing quite happens with the ritual. Just the background noise of whatever land they come from. But then, just so gently creeping into your senses. You feel a light warmth crawling up your skin. Enveloping you in a tight hug as you start to sink downward into the earth. The earth itself melts into putty to grant you passage. Slowly but surely you slip out of the material realm.

But just right before you truly exit the world. You're suddenly gripped by massive claws that tug you upwards. Each being razor sharp claws of wood and moss. But whatever warmth that was covering you protected you from such wicked instruments of death. A tug of war ensues for a moment. It seems mother earth was not willing to give up what was hers so easily. That is until one great tug downward breaks you free from her eternal grasp. Severing a connection to a world far more alive than you ever realized.

You free fall through an endless abyss for what feels like hours. Until you each slam into what feels like ooze that rapidly consumes your body. You feel your form shifting and tearing slightly, though without a single ounce of pain. It was a quite soothing feeling all in all.

A light hand brushes across your cheek. A hand made of what feels like pure porcelain. It circles around your jaw, lightly brushing its finger through your hair. Porcelain lips lightly tickle your ears as it whispers.

Tell
Me

It exhales, a soft scent of roses in its breath. Soft hair trails across your face for a moment as it switches to your other ear to speak.

What
Is
Power
To
Thy?

As it commands, you answer. The deepest meaning of power to oneself.

Spoiler: OOC Note

Basically this means you need to give the most honest as possible answer to what your character think what power truly is.

And I was not kidding about the blindfold thing. You die instantly if you take it off. No take backs or even implying that they can see through it in some fashion.

@Omida
@Chronobreak
@THatWhichWillBe
@Jemnite
@Crow
@Unlucky Bibliophile

 

[THatWhichWillBe]

Die a fate... worse than death? How ludicrous. Really, Musko didn't give that much credence to all this mumbo-jumbo. The blood was easy enough, getting into a barfight was a simple enough job to get enough blood for the circle. Then grabbing some unconscious biker's bandana and using it as a blindfold. And presto! All the requirements for this whole 'summoning' nonsense. He joked that he wasn't sure that he had enough of a soul for it to take. But then.... it starts. He starts to slip through the earth, in an embrace of warmth. Like a mother's touch. 'Cept mother wasn't a bitch of a drunk more concerned with drug money than their kid. It made him feel nostalgic for something he'd never had...

And then the Earth reaches *back* for him. He can feel it, the stuff of trees and lichen trying to grab hold of him and *keep* him. It was an odd way for Musko to find out he was wanted, really. Musko chuckles, even as he's caught between Earth and whatever force was pulling him away from the world, and the rugged man blows a kiss up to the world he's leaving behind.

"Sorry, Mama Earth. Your boy's leaving the nest. I'd tell you not to become a crazy cat lady, but I think it's too late for that!"

And then he falls, and falls, and falls.... Musko howls out a challenge into the void, smiling ferociously. It was a thrill like nothin' else. He'd gone skydiving before, but there it was a different matter to be skydiving into an unknown world through the void between realities. It got the heart *pumping* like nothing else. Then he feels the hand on his cheek, asking him the meaning of power. Power.... There were a lot of simple answers he could have given. Power meant the ability to do things. Power meant authority. Power meant money. None of them would be true for what Power was to him. He'd known real Power since he was very young. He'd seen it in the ring, in the aftermath of a street fight, in the laughter of old masters as they taught him a new lesson. Musko had breathed Power. Musko had been beaten down by it. He knew what his answer was.

"Power means neva' lettin anythin' get in your way. No man, no god, not laws like age or common sense or taxes, and ESPECIALLY not your own damn self. That, that's real power."

 

[Jemnite]

She walks the long winding road between the here and the now in betwixt the abyss of worlds.

Kuukyo Rise shivers as cold hands walk the lines of her face. This was a stupid idea. This had always been a stupid idea. An urge taken up in the heat of a moment. A yearning in the soul against her better judgement. Why was she here? She had a comfortable life back home, even if it promised to be a quiet one. Her moment of fame, however short, was already more than she should have asked for. More than enough for anyone to be satisfied with.

The road falls into a familiar curve. Even then, her presence demanded a certain gravitas from the world. Her feet follow a familiar tread until they lead her to a familiar scene. Oh. It's Her. And her. Or perhaps, one should say, HER.

But Rise's heart hadn't been satisfied. It had yearned for more. It had yearned so loudly that she had taken this chance. And now there was no way but forward.

"Hello," she says, smiling politely. Her hands are up in a sign of peace; she's aware that she's trespassing, in this time and place. "I'm just here to deliver a something." Her hands reach up to her face. One the many faceless eyes she brought with her turns to the young woman talking. "Oh, but this is nostalgic isn't it. I remember answering this question."

"Power," Rise begins haltingly. "Is the ability to get what you want. But... what do people even want? I mean power's not just the ability to only get material things, but also people too. Friends. Lovers. Followers. That's power, too. Like-"

"I sure fumbled over my words a lot back then, huh? Almost embarrassing." She giggles as she peels one of her faces off. It slides off easily and she kneads it in her hands, rubbing little bumbs onto the inside, smoothing out the outside, leveling it out so that it will fit properly on the face of one who has not yet grown to accommodate that weight. "But power only comes with surety. It will be a while yet."

"-and force isn't power. It's just a way to gain or express it. Like-"

"But even then there were the seeds." She sighs, steel hands reaching forward to touch ones still made of flesh and gristle. "Even then I understood. The universal truth. That..."

"-um, so I guess what I'm saying is that power is to be loved."

Rise blinks underneath her blindfold. Did she just hear another voice talking besides hers? Her expression scrunches in confusion and just as suddenly explodes in surprise and a yelp as she feels something cold and curved and unfamiliar slip into her hands.

"There we go. Thanks for letting me intrude on your thing, sempai. Come to my concert alright? I'll give you some great fanservice. Fit for a goddess." She throws a smile as bright as the universe with a double peace sign and is gone.

And then there is only one Rise there. One Rise and a promise of another.

"Wait are these eyeholes?"

 

[Chronobreak]

A life of waste.

He felt so very old, and so very weary, that these dark tunnels beneath the Earth were almost a comfort. Like those he had wanted to save, this would be his grave.

How ignoble.

Parched lips lick the wet on the walls, this base humiliation nothing less than he deserved. He had moved the bodies of the men further out from this central cavern after giving them their last rites, the company of corpses one he was not eager to enjoy.

Above him was light, a small hole from which sunlight dripped down, cascading across his bare form. The eyes of God, judging him for his actions, and waiting to see him go, one way, or the other.

My journey one of emptiness.

That voice...was different from the cacophony that plagued him since he was a boy. She was no specter...she was flesh, she was will, she had wanted him to send his soul forth unto the aether. Not to escape death...but to run away from this life of his.

Soft eyes flashed across his vision. Hair full of twigs and energy that thrummed within a small, slight frame. A chance at happiness that God had given him...a chance he refused out of hatred. Failing as both a knight, and a man

This destruction of mine was brought about by my own hand.

What right did he have to regret? How selfish must he be to sit upon his blessings and obey the voice whispering sweet temptations in his ears?

With a strangled howl, Matsu Nabirye threw himself upon the stones, tearing skin from bone and blood from veins, sinking to his knees as all his many failures entered his mind all at once.

Blood, advised by his benefactor to be used in small amounts, splattered around the hollow man as he took out all of his rage and all of his ire upon the only person who deserved it. He started to laugh with joy as he brutalized his worst enemy, that devil whom he despised above all others, as he shed his hated foes body so that his spirit might finally move on, whether into Limbo's embrace or the Ashen Land he was promised he did not care. It felt good, to cut loose, to bleed, to punish himself.

Black blood poured around him, his brain losing focus as the sheer weight of what should be within, now without, impacted Matsu's swirling consciousness.

It was a circle, alright, but a circle slowly filling as the sheer weight of what had been discarded became clear to him.

The man took a breath, and sat down on his legs, his senses returning as the darkness that boiled within retreated alongside his essential fluids.

He held a small piece of cloth to his face, skin the color of nourishing dirt rubbed raw and pink and wet.

I promise...I'll do better this time...

With the strength he had left, a body once brimming with might brought low by abuse and neglect, Matsu Nabirye tied a token around his head, covering his eyes as an overwhelming sadness gripped him. While he would could never take back the many yesterdays he wished to revisit, he could, at least, keep in mind the lessons he learned, and the comfort of knowing that once upon a time, he had been loved.

There was no comfort for a soul mired by the what-ifs.

The meat of the corpus tingled as a primal, long forgotten truth made itself known.

A fire had been lit within, tightly contained by a steely grip. Matsu kept his eyes closed, remembering the words of the one who had been his advisor. This was magic...or this was death.

Well, Matsu thought as his body gave up the ghost, and he began falling, falling, falling...

I guess I got what I deserved...

He doesn't notice the spikes that stab within his essence, the Earth trying to bring back her child being spirited away by strange and foreign actors. Perhaps he simply does not care.

During this tug of war, the voices in Matsu's head began to go silent, one by one. An awareness quirks to attention as the sound in his ears turns more quiet than ever before.

And the final voice dies, and the dead man feels nothing but dread.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A sunlit a sky, a field of yellow grass. I kneel before the tree of knowledge, and beneath its towering branches lies a girl in shade, scooting to the side and patting the flattened grass beside her. All the aches and pains brought upon my my wretchedness are forgotten, and within my breast bubbles a sweet, heady liquid, filling in the empty vessel I had become. I blink, as my renounced humanity returns to me.

"It took you long enough," the girl says teasingly, and no matter how many times I blink I cannot make out her face. My heads dips lower, to where her feet meet the grass, and that I can see, dirt specked soles that connect her to the planet we called home.

The brow tightens with familiar pain, but the heart beats strongly, and I stride forth with a cocksure grin I never once remember wearing. The girl yelps as I meet her, tussling to the ground as we laugh and squawk and I try to forget that this is just a dream.

"I miss you. Every day," I whisper, and I beg within the skin of her back. "The only wish I ever had was to spend my life with you."

"Than why did you not?"

For minutes, Matsu ignored the question, as he held sunshine within his grip, memories flooding back in. The give of her flesh, the smell of her hair, the sound of her voice, knowing that the moment he gave his answer she would disappear, and that he would not be seeing her again.

For a while, she was tense, waiting for the answer to his question, but as moments stretched into an eternity, she began to relax. As he held her ever tighter she began to hum, and when it became clear that he didn't intend to let go she began to stroke his hair with long, practiced fingers, her other arm holding his head close to her chest as they simply enjoyed forever together.

"I love you," she said, her voice choked with emotion, holding him tight as he smiled and leaned evermore weakly upon her lap.

And after so many eternities, he could finally see her face again, red with tears as she watched him try to move forwards.

He cups her cheek within his palm, and locks the image before him within the core of his personal reality. Never again would their paths cross, but never again would he forget that whom had given him his first joys, and his first heartbreak.

No matter how much it hurt...

It was a good kind of a pain.

The dream begins to fade...

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Hazel's bandanna grew wet and soggy, from blood and tears bow as Matsu struggled with the desire to rub away the gunk in his eyes, only a threadbare sliver keeping him from bawling openly as he was manhandled by the mysterious entity.

To be loved is to have the power to overcome any obstacle.

 

[Unlucky Bibliophile]

The redhead sighed, looking around at her spartan prison cell. Moonlight streamed through the cracks in the ceiling. The bed creaked under her weight. An empty notebook laid nearby. Perhaps as a way of ingratiating themselves to her. They even allowed her to wear her suits, though warden had no doubt searched them extensively.

Callista knew she had little time. Her captors' questions were becoming more pointed. More insistent for answers. She had little doubt that tomorrow she would be dealing with "enhanced interrogation", as some of her co-workers referred to plain torture. True, she was trained rigorously to resist such measures, but Callista would prefer to avoid the situation altogether.

So, Callista took another way out. She was half-convinced it was all a delusion when the Queen had initially contacted her. The case officer, however, was convinced over the weeks of discussion. There was only so much she could attribute to an active imagination.

Callista picked up the pencil she had for the occasion, sharpened to a point. At first, Callista had smuggled it in to either serve as a weapon. Maybe as a last resort... But in this case, Callista pressed it hard against the palm of her hand, drawing blood. Paying it little mind, Callista proceeded to draw the ritual circle in her blood. Doubts raced through her head -- whether she'd been hallucinating the dreams at all, or if it was all an elaborate trick to summon a demon to this plane of existence. Honestly, she was prepared to believe anything at this point.

Callista heaved a shuddering sigh, before wrapping a torn blanket over her eyes as an improvised blindfold. It was time.

Callista felt it. A tug. Reality falling inward as some otherworldly force dragged her away. Her reality resisting the abduction, trying to drag her back. The connection snapped, taking her away from home forever.

So here she was, drifting through pure nothing. Then, a whisper in her ear. It sent shivers down her spine.

What
Is
Power
To
Thy?

Click to shrink...

Still, with little hesitation, Callista replied, "Knowledge is power. If you know something of the enemy while they know nothing of you, you have power over them -- over a great deal of people."

"Are these accurate?"

"Yes, just like you requested. They were more difficult to acquire than I thought, so I ask for additional compensation."

"Very well, the usual payment will be in its place, Mister Burn. Say hello to the missus for me."

Everyone had their vices. The weak points in their psyche that made them vulnerable to persuasion... or exploitation.

"Where... where did you get these?"

"Never mind how I acquired the photos, sir. But know that we're prepared to release these if you don't do as we say. You wouldn't want your family to know about your... tryst with a local stud, yes? They still stone your kind out here."

All the while, Callista kept her cards close to her chest. Putting on masks while discarding others as appropriate.

"Oh Callie, hi! It's me, Margaret. I haven't seen you since college. How have you been?"

"Maggie! It's been a while, yeah. Well, I was just heading to work. The boss is a bit of a pig. Sorry, I don't have a lot of time to talk. You want to get some drinks later, so we can catch up?"

Callista was a small spider involved in a thin yet far-spreading web of intrigue. Patsies and cut-outs served as her hands on the world stage, nudging events here and there to watch them fall into place: a rumor there, some dissent here, a few eyes inside that organization over there... It was delicate work, where the slightest mistake would cost lives, time, or money. Gambling took all three as well, but not usually to the scale of nations.

 

[Omida]

A fate worse than death?

Ridiculous.

Hilda had spent the last five years already living one. Still, she had made a covenant, and she would never, ever choose to break her word. And so, she sets to work. The security measures on the safehouse mean that even agonizing over the ritual to make every step perfect, Hilda will be long gone by the time someone finally thinks to check on their boss. She folded the carpet and threw it to the corner of the room, then dragged the table and the chairs to the side. The sofa with the corpse of the man who took everything from her remained where it was.

The man finds himself contibuting to Hilda's goal as she painstakingly draws the circle to perfection with his blood. She makes sure his blood doesn't stain her clothes beyond what it already did, and the hand she uses to draw the circle.

Finally, she stands up and frowns, looking at her bloodied right hand. She will need blindfold. Taking a quick look around, an idea comes to mind, and she takes the man's necktie off and diligently wraps it around her head, making sure she is incapable of so much as peeking through it. Then, she steps inside the circle.

For a moment, nothing happens. There is only the sound of Hilda's even breathe in her ears and the ticking of the clock. For a moment, she fears that she imagined everything, that the Queen and the offer were just figments of fractured psyche seeking to justify its actions. Then, she feels a warm embrace enveloping her, and her heart skips a beat in a vain hope. Then, she slips past the world, and even as she is grabbed by the Earth, she shrugs its attempt to keep her off.

There is nothing that would keep me with you. Let me go. She thinks morosely before she is finally freed from the grasp and moves on.

What
Is
Power
To
Thy?

Click to shrink...

"Justice. Inescapable. Inevitable. Inviolate." She answers without hesitation.

Then, her right hand burns with a heat she cold only imagine, skin, muscle and bone melting and being replaced. She grits her teeth, refusing to cry out in pain, even as tears swell up in her eyes, and a hiss escapes her throat. The agony lasts eternity, or maybe seconds. Time loses meaning as Hilda focuses on the pain. She loses her arm from elbow down, that much she is certain, and yet. And yet.

Yet, she feels it still there, more real than what phantom pain is described as. She feels its weight.

What is going on?

She fights down the panic, the urge to tear down the blindfold and see with her own eyes.

She gave her word after all.

 

[Crow]

"Power...huh?" Mutters Cassandra, savouring the word on her tongue like exquisite wine, even as she feels her spine and insides chill from the oh so occult experience. Her hands twitch in an unconscious motion to try and procure something to her dry lips, but she stills them with a conscious effort and a deprecating smile.

What a question to be had. She who had everything. Power over the lives and deaths of many, their livelihoods, their hopes and despair? Oh she knows power alright.

She possesed it, and she lost it, and she has stolen it, and given it.

Power to her was like an old friend, and an old enemy, like the sweetest of lovers and the harshest of rivals. It would not be innacurate to say that her life had been an endless pursuit of power, and the consequences of thereof.

Power allowed you to do as you willed, to break through your obstacles and need not bow your head nor compromise on who you were.

It freed you and chained you, it corrupted and liberated you.

It had myriad faces, ugly and beautiful. Wether you were born to it. Or you stole it, or you worked and toiled endlessly for it? It mattered little. Soft power, hard power, political, internal, monetary. Was there any true difference in the end to it all? As long as you could accrue it and use it what use is there in splitting hairs?

"Power is Will, Will is Power. The details do not matter, Power is a Means and an End. It is Everything." She mutters out loud through a hazy breath as she cleans the dust from her suit and fixes her already pressed to perfection tie under a silk handkerchief that she improvised into a blindfold.

She could not deny that a part of herself wanted to try her luck and peek through, but she mastered herself and kept her eyes closed even as her simle becomes sharper.

T'was a complicated feeling, for all intents and purposes she was a dead woman. Everything she had built was to be lost, never to rise again.

Yet, she'll slip through the consequences of her actions and retributions. Free to toil in a whole different world.

Ah truly, the best vengeance was living well, something her dear detractors could not possibly do now.

 

[MiracleGrow]

The beings hands retract from your face, a soft giggle echoing into the endless void between the worlds. A single finger reaches out, gently tapping the right shoulder blade on your body.

To each of you in turn, it speaks.

@Omida
One of Heart Break

A small heart bleeding silver is seared onto your skin.

@Chronobreak
One of Loneliness

A lone tree in a endless plain coated in amber is seared onto your skin.

@THatWhichWillBe
One of Pain

A red colored warrior on his knees with one hundred arrows lodged into his body is seared onto your skin.

@Jemnite
One of Obsession

Two blue glowing eyes are seared onto your skin

@Crow
One of Exploitation

A pile of gold coins slowly melting away into ash is seared onto your skin.

@Unlucky Bibliophile
One of Deception

A sheet of paper with a large red X is seared onto your skin

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There we go
Existence itself Illustrated
Now then
For the-

The void beings words stop mid sentence, a small squeak of surprise as the void itself rumbles.

Ahh
I should have known
But why act now?

Is the last words you hear from the void being before you once again fall further into its grasp. The void was growing explosively turbulent, threatening to tear you to pieces. Your mind feels like it will shatter as a ever growing pressure grows on your temples. Your mind slowly falters away into a eternal darkness. The pressure rips away your blindfold, exposing your mind to the eternal void all around you. That is when everything freezes.

No pain, no pressure, no being whispering into your ears. But slowly your senses creep back to you. A soft breeze brushing your skin, and warm glow from the morning sun, and the rustle of long grass swaying in the wind. Your eyes blink open to a peaceful scene stretching before you.

(IMAGE)

A tall woman silently stands before you on the endless grass plains and its towering marble slabs reaching indefinitely into the skies. This scene stretches on for sometime, how long, you do not know. Until you see a small twitch on her form, as she slowly turns to look upon you. Emerald eyes bore into you, peering at you with a hint of curiosity in her eyes.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You wake up feeling like you just ran a marathon and were beaten with hammers at the end point. Every part of your body aches, even those new additions you seemed to have picked up in the journey through the void.

The room you were in was a small cozy room hewed out of stone. It was finely smoothed down to a perfect point. A small candle sat on a stool next to your wool bed. Filling the room with a soft flickering light. Something else stands on your stool next to your bed. A full change of clothes that seemed to perfectly match your measurements. A little note was placed on top of the clothes, written in a super messy version of whatever was your native language.

"Hello! Despite losing all of your bands your souls were not ripped out of your body, how nice! It's been five days since you arrived on this world. And you been sleeping through all of them! Good thing I know your going to wake up though. It would be unfortunate if you did not. But please, clothe yourself and walk down the hall. Just go to that black haired servant that's guarding the door and tell them you would like to meet me. Don't stab them or the other ones that have been summoned please. Or I'll have to tell my guards to stab you back, no one wants that.

A small stick figure with a great big smile holding a dagger is drawn at the bottom of the paper.

Click to shrink...

And lasty, was your boon that you took with you into the next world. Laying on the bed stool as well.

@Unlucky Bibliophile
Next to the little note was a small grey mouse lazily sleeping on top the pile of clothes. A tiny little pack was attached to its back, holding a small letter addressed to you specifically by name. It contained a large intricate code cipher. As well as a small code dial.

@Omida
After observing the room you notice a flicker of movement on top of the ceiling of the room. Four yellow glowing eyes peer back at you. On your ceiling was a large spider woman humming to herself as she lazily uses a small duster to clean your rooms ceiling. Her eyes widen in surprise and she freezes up once she notices you were awake.

"Umm, uhh." She taps her two hands together before reaching out and grabbing onto a large metal hatch on the roof. Swinging it open and scurrying inside. A large spider leg reaches out of the darkness of the hatch and slams it behind her.

 

[THatWhichWillBe]

The room you were in was a small cozy room hewed out of stone. It was finely smoothed down to a perfect point. A small candle sat on a stool next to your wool bed. Filling the room with a soft flickering light. Something else stands on your stool next to your bed. A full change of clothes that seemed to perfectly match your measurements. A little note was placed on top of the clothes, written in a super messy version of whatever was your native language.

Click to shrink...

Musko yawns awake, feeling like he just went 10 rounds against some heavyweight. A familiar feeling. A good feeling. He makes to get up, and then winces as certain muscles scream in protest. Make that 20 rounds, he thought to himself. He thinks back to what had happened in his travel, how out of nowhere, that... person had intervened. And he was pretty sure it was an intervention, judging from the blindfold being ripped away. He really wanted to ask them some... pointed questions. Reeves did not particularly appreciate being fucked with. He puts on his new clothes, noticing how well-tailored they were. It was an odd feeling to be wearing this sort of fashion. It felt all... flouncy.

The man pats himself down, being surprised to find that it hurt... well, everywhere. It was like... someone had taken the time to punch every punchable surface they could. He blinks and is... startled to find that he feels *Three* things moving. He reaches for his forehead to find... a third eye. Reeves was very sure he didn't actually have this eye before. This was... new. He closes his two human eyes, experimentally looking about using the third eye... before shrugging it off. It didn't seem like a hindrance for the time being, and he could ask about it later.

He grabs ahold of his staff, picking it up, testing it. Seeing how it'd weathered the passage. And to his surprise, it somehow felt... more lively in his hands, like it wanted to fight now, all of a sudden. Was it a benefit of the travel? He gets an eye and his staff gets an upgrade. Reeves then reads the note, rolling all three of his eyes at the childishness of the drawing. Did they make this thing for everyone? Ah, well, whatever. Musko opens the door, looking over at the guard, idly wondering if the person would even understand what he was saying...

"Hey, I'd like to see the Queen now."

 

[Unlucky Bibliophile]

You wake up feeling like you just ran a marathon and were beaten with hammers at the end point. Every part of your body aches, even those new additions you seemed to have picked up in the journey through the void.

The room you were in was a small cozy room hewed out of stone. It was finely smoothed down to a perfect point. A small candle sat on a stool next to your wool bed. Filling the room with a soft flickering light. Something else stands on your stool next to your bed. A full change of clothes that seemed to perfectly match your measurements. A little note was placed on top of the clothes, written in a super messy version of whatever was your native language.

Click to shrink...

Callista didn't so much snap awake as groggily rise from her slumber. She felt like she had undergone remedial physical and torture training.

Callista forced her aching body to stand up, wincing at the flashes of irritation. Noticing a note next to what she presumed to be her clothes, Callista let out a soft chortle at the queen's disastrous attempt at writing in her native language.

@Unlucky Bibliophile
Next to the little note was a small grey mouse lazily sleeping on top the pile of clothes. A tiny little pack was attached to its back, holding a small letter addressed to you specifically by name. It contained a large intricate code cipher. As well as a small code dial.

Click to shrink...

The redhead's attention drifted to the small gray mouse sleeping on top of her clothes. Gently shooing it away, Callista examined the tiny pack attached to the back of her clothes. She opened it up, finding a small letter, an intricate code cipher, and a cipher wheel.

Callista sat on her bed, pondering. This seemed like a test of her skill. That the letter had been deposited with the rather... childish rendition of the queen's writing further lent evidence to that assumption.

The queen hadn't requested an audience directly after awakening from their brief coma, so Callista assumed they had time to acclimatize to their surroundings. So still in her underwear, Callista began to decipher the letter left on her clothes. It was a fairly complex code cipher. She had to admit she would have had a difficult time decrypting the message if the cipher wheel and codes weren't directly next to her.

The note when cracked shows.

'I heard you were a spy of some sort. Nice to meet you. Keep this code a secret or we will have problems. Also, this is your pet mouse. Take care and cherish him with all your heart, his name is Squeak.

Click to shrink...

Looking up from the letter, Callista stared at the candle flickering softly by the bedside. Watching it. Observing its movements.

Carefully, Callista handled the letter closer to the flames. Not enough to burn it, but just enough to imbue heat to the parchment. Her eyes snapped to the emblem on her hand. The spy sighed, already thinking of either excuses or ways to hide the obvious mark.

A small deception of a mouse slowly reveals itself. It's giving a small thumbs up, besides it in small text was.

'Extra points to you.'

Click to shrink...

Callista let out a soft snort of amusement, before lowering her hand and burning the note fully. She made sure that every part was burned to a crisp. You could never be too careful in the tradecraft. Well, it looked like she was dealing with the local spymaster or case officer. Someone that was also aware of her previous occupation. Although, they had more humor than the superiors Callista had worked for over the years.

The spy returned the tools back into their place in the pouch on her back, before picking up her old notebook. She flipped it open to find it still empty.

Afterwards, Callista got dressed, stretched her limbs, and walked out. Callista placed Squeak on her shoulder. She would be later than the others, assuming that they immediately got out after getting dressed.

Waving to the guard, Callista released a soft smile. "Hello, I would like to meet the queen."

 

[Chronobreak]

You wake up feeling like you just ran a marathon and were beaten with hammers at the end point. Every part of your body aches, even those new additions you seemed to have picked up in the journey through the void.

The room you were in was a small cozy room hewed out of stone. It was finely smoothed down to a perfect point. A small candle sat on a stool next to your wool bed. Filling the room with a soft flickering light. Something else stands on your stool next to your bed. A full change of clothes that seemed to perfectly match your measurements. A little note was placed on top of the clothes, written in a super messy version of whatever was your native language.

Click to shrink...

Uhuh. Okay. Matsu was going to break his most recent memories into little bite-sized pieces and squirrel them away like an eccentric pirate cutting apart a treasure map. He did not want to deal with the strain of thinking about what happened after he'd been branded by the woman-thing. In fact, he was going to crop his recollection of what she said as well. That was for future-Matsu to deal with.

Of course, even with Matsu's famed (to himself, anyway) compartmentalization skills, he couldn't quite help his heart smashing against his chest, eager to rip itself out like a wrongfully accused prisoner in the back of a cartoon police truck.

Normally, the soreness of the body would not distract Matsu from the turmoil of the soul. His flesh, blood, and bones had been tempered by strife, harsh brutalist architecture compared to the marble temples of professional athletes. But it seemed, to Matsu growing concern, that he had not come out the void between worlds without bringing some of it back with him.

The agitator scrambled out of his bed with a half formed roar rumbling in his throat. Lifelong instincts failed him as he came up with a weight on his head and the horrible sensation of something poking into the bone above his anus.

An appreciation for the aesthetic beauty of his room was lost upon the young man as his hands came to his head, feeling up the flesh flap that had replaced his beautiful hair. He blinked and stretched his fingers, then his toe, his mouth opening with an 'o' of shock as he pushed his hands and legs out in front of him, openly gaping at the yellow-green scales that covered each appendage, ending in sharp, brown nails that reminded him intensely of river crocodiles.

His disbelief at the state of his body, however, crumbled to dust as he stuck one of his hands partially around his mouth, trying to stifle verbalization's of his confusion, and was struck by a spike of terror that cracked his very core.

(His shoulders burned)

A long, dexterous tail sweeped across the floor as Matsu stood, wild, savage eyes scanning the room for Hazel's token, his being in accord to inflict incredible violence on the nearest recipient if it was missing...

Before letting himself sigh in relief upon seeing it laid safely upon the bedstool. Earnestly, pathetically so, he sunk to his knees and brushed it betwixt his claws, nuzzling the fabric across his face.

He heard a whisper, and all was well.

His grief over his mutation was all but forgotten. With his suddenly enormous head, -or scalp?- he instead tied the bandanna across his mouth, hoping that the scent he caught on it was a final gift and not his mind playing tricks on him. He'd never see her again, of course, he knew that, but for just this long, he didn't want to think about it.

With Matsu's newfound clarity, he picked up the letter that was also on the bed stool, eyes quickly flicking over the writing, squaring away his annoyance at it's near illegibility. He wasn't exactly a judgmental person, but giving him a chance at closure forgave a lot of sins.

Er. Poor choice of words.

Matsu's tail-weird as that was to think-flicked between his legs, driving the mutated man's attention downwards.

There were, of course, the worm-like feelers that stretched across his torso like a belt, each individual strand delivering extremely sharp sensory information into Matsu's grey matter now that he was aware it existed. He winced, reducing his focus upon his belt, which was relatively easy when he had something much weirder calling to his attention.

Oh dear.

+++++++

Feeling incredibly flushed and awkward, Matsu stalked out of his room, bearing the garb crafted with consideration to his new body. It wasn't especially scandalous, but he'd never had cause to experiment with fashion before, and was self-conscious about how the billowing robes of the Ashen land people looked on him, especially since they were obviously (and rather unskillfully, if he was to be so unkind) altered to fit his proportions, with a roughly cut tail-hole allowing his scaled appendage to swing about behind him, not to mention the strap of fabric around his waist, which for all intents and purposes looked like someone went wild on it with a hole puncher, from which Matsu's worm-like feelers squirmed and squeezed through, a much better proposition compared to restraining them underneath the fabric, which had been a painfully intense experience.

His eyes settled on the raven haired servant at the end of the hall, and Matsu felt much smaller than he had in a very long time. This was a new world. This was supposed to be a place where he had not yet polluted history with his actions-a place where he could reinvent himself into the person he never could be back on his...his home planet, he supposed. This was really turning out to be a strange month.

"Take me to your leader," Matsu word vomited, his train of thought already chugging into E.T station.

Maybe death had been the better alternative after all...

 

[Omida]

You wake up feeling like you just ran a marathon and were beaten with hammers at the end point. Every part of your body aches, even those new additions you seemed to have picked up in the journey through the void.

The room you were in was a small cozy room hewed out of stone. It was finely smoothed down to a perfect point. A small candle sat on a stool next to your wool bed. Filling the room with a soft flickering light. Something else stands on your stool next to your bed. A full change of clothes that seemed to perfectly match your measurements. A little note was placed on top of the clothes, written in a super messy version of whatever was your native language.

Click to shrink...

Hilda less wakes up and more slowly drifts back towards consciousness, letting out a pained moan as her body lets her know it did not appreciate the journey. And yet, she feels refreshed. She is exhaused and in pain, but for the first time in a long, long time, her sleep was undisturbed by the nightmares, and that is enough for her. Shifting to sit on a bed, she looks at her right hand and cannot help but gasp in surprise and wonder.

From elbow down, instead of flesh and blood, it has been turned into glistening, silver prosthetic, seamlessly merging with flesh as if human body was meant to transition from tissue to metal. Touching it, she finds it surprisingly warm in touch. The fingers of the hand flex and extend without issue, just as if she didn't have them replaced. The wrist twist with the same grace and flexibility as her old one. Finally, Hilda puts her new arm against her ear and has it move again. She can definitely hear a faint sound of machinery working to move the appendage in accordance with her wishes.

Then she notices the note and gingerly picks it up. A meeting, yes. Hilda looks around the room to see if there is anything indicating a bathroom to use. After five days, she really should refresh herself, shouldn't she? And yet, there is no indication of such. Furrowing her brow, Hilda stands up, resigned to hunt for bath after the meeting.

After observing the room you notice a flicker of movement on top of the ceiling of the room. Four yellow glowing eyes peer back at you. On your ceiling was a large spider woman humming to herself as she lazily uses a small duster to clean your rooms ceiling. Her eyes widen in surprise and she freezes up once she notices you were awake.

"Umm, uhh." She taps her two hands together before reaching out and grabbing onto a large metal hatch on the roof. Swinging it open and scurrying inside. A large spider leg reaches out of the darkness of the hatch and slams it behind her.

Click to shrink...

Hilda takes a step back in surprise at the sight. She knew she was going to a place more fantastical than her old world, but the appearance of the spider woman drove the point home.

"Uhmmm..." Before she can say anything more, the woman flees the room, leaving Hilda feeling like she did something wrong.

Sighing, she changes into the provided clothes before carefully caressing her old wedding dress. Swallowing, she turns around and walks towards the door with an even, steady step. Opening it, she turns towards the servant standing on the other side.

"I was informed Her Majesty wishes to see me. Could you take me to her?"

 

[Crow]

Quaint

Thinks Cassandra to herself even as the void consumes her, not completely surprised at the...curse? being burnt into her being.

Well, the words had power. Even a neophyte would be realist like her could understand that at the very least, though she had no basis to draw further conclusions.

It matters little. She gives a smile to her reflection, familiarizing herself with the almost stranger in the mirror. Posing and fussing over herself. Carefully proding and getting used to the...changes, brought upon her. Though she was disconcerted and quite disoriented from her little trip through the primordial void. She quickly remembered what had transcurred.

And the mark upon her flesh confirmed it as no mere delusion.

The clothes fit upon her frame aptly, though they were all the wrong colors from her preference. She'll deal for now...such as she could, as the extra additions to her form proved somewhat unwieldy. She most assuredly was thankful there were no cameras, for her struggles in getting dressed were far too comedic for her intended impression.

"Though...They do fit dear me, I dare say I pull off the look quite well" Mutters Cassandra, brushing the horns before finishing her grooming, watch almost gleaming in the gloom as she takes a peek out the door. Were there others taking the faustian bargains as well? How utterly foolish.

She must meet them.

Oh, and her dear benefactor as well. She's got to pay her gratitude after all.

 

[Jemnite]

A star. Tap tap tap. Dancing upon the edges of the void.

Rise's head hurt. Her soul hurt. Ugh. Ow. Terrible. She rolled in soft comforters and blankets and moaned.

Dearest me. Dearest my. Where's your heart of ambition? Where's your all-consuming motivation? Lost to mere softness and warmth? Wake up.

Wait. These were too soft. These weren't Rise's blankets. Her eyes snapped open and she scrambled up. This was not a familiar ceiling. The walls were different, the room was off. None of this was familiar. Where was she? What was she doing here? Rise's sleep-addled mind swam in confusion until the recollection of the event of her lifetime slowly came back to her in drips and drabs.

Oh. Yes. That's right.

She had died. Or the closest thing to it.

Her hands groped around the bed as she searched for her bearings. Clothes to be worn. Instructions to be followed for an audience with the queen. A mask- was this hers? Rise didn't recognize it. She stared at the steel face lying upon the bedstand and shrugged. It probably wasn't important. Maybe it belonged to the previous lodger.

Best not to go fiddling with things that weren't hers anyways. Rise left it behind, both in her mind and in the room as she made her way to the servant standing outside the door.

"Take me to the queen," she ordered requested. "I have an appointment."

 

[MiracleGrow]

A black haired servant stood at the doorway entrance. She bows to the group, her remaining left arm placed on her heart. There were a number of scars on her features beyond the missing limb. A terrible jagged line running down what little you could see of her neck.

"Ah, you have awoken. Let me wake your escort." She says in a gravelly voice as she stands straight from her bow and walks over to one of the two identical stone statues standing beside the entrance. The maid reaches out and lightly taps one of its shoulders.

Massive cracks in its stone body start to rapidly form. With one great shudder the statue crumbles away, revealing a man hidden inside of its body. He gives a small yawn as he shakes off little pieces of stone still clinging to him.

He wore a large armor skirt, its chain and plate clinking lightly with his every step. His upper body clothed in some sort of odd robe that you can tell had some sort of armor under it. A large glowing saber without a sheath was strapped to his side.

The man reaches up and removes the mask covering his face. Revealing his darker complexion and brown eyes that held a hint of curiosity.

"Ah, how long has it been Mary?"

"Five days sir." The maid quickly answers.

"Well then, I hope your trip between the endless all consuming voids were comfy." He says rolling his shoulders. The stone he broke out of now melting into the ground, rejoining the stone floors.

"Well follow me then, ask any questions you may have along the way. It's why I am here. The Queen is not actually in these quarters at the moment, so I need to lead you to the throne room. There were some changes in the political scene. To put it in the most simple of terms, a decent amount of people thought this little ritual of hers would not work." He quickly speaks, obvious boredom intruding into his words.

With that he turns on the spot, leading the group down a dizzying array of halls. The majority of the being barren stone or marble hallways, with only the occasional servant who hustles by. Giving the group odd looks as they go on about their days. One even had a large fluffy fox tail who had to wrestle with their own tail to make sure it did not brush up against the group.

This walk stretched on for some time until the group reaches what could only be described as a waiting room. Lavish couches and soft cushions were scattered about. But the most eye drawing part of the room above all was a large glass window on one end. It seemed your little group awoke upon a large tower. Giving you a view stretching for what could be miles. The lands below were massive rolling dunes of white ash in every direction. Only the occasional spire sticking out of the volcanic ash hinting at the city that laid underneath it all. Moving upon these ash fields was a massive herd of… mushrooms? They scuttled along the ground kicking up massive plooms of ash in their movements. Their large branch like legs letting them move at an astonishing speed. But far far in the horizon, a pitch black storm was moving towards the capital. Lightning cracked up and down this massive storm of ash, even now you can feel the roaring thunder as it bore down on the city.

"Well now we wait. But that storm, pretty isn't it? First time you go through one it feels like the end of days. But live here for ten years and you barely notice it even roll through anymore.," says your guard as he lounges on a cushion.

 

[THatWhichWillBe]

"Well follow me then, ask any questions you may have along the way. It's why I am here. The Queen is not actually in these quarters at the moment, so I need to lead you to the throne room. There were some changes in the political scene. To put it in the most simple of terms, a decent amount of people thought this little ritual of hers would not work." He quickly speaks, obvious boredom intruding into his words.

Click to shrink...

Musko looks about, noticing the strange features on his fellow summoned, and the animalistic parts on some of the servants. He raises an eyebrow, wondering if there something related there.

"Does everyone here get one of these mutation-thingies? One of the quirks of living in this place?"

He gestures to the third eye on his forehead with a lazy wave.

"Well follow me then, ask any questions you may have along the way. It's why I am here. The Queen is not actually in these quarters at the moment, so I need to lead you to the throne room. There were some changes in the political scene. To put it in the most simple of terms, a decent amount of people thought this little ritual of hers would not work." He quickly speaks, obvious boredom intruding into his words.

Click to shrink...

Politics... Musko didn't truck with politics. It was all talky talky schemey stuff. It tended to go over his head, unless they went out of their way to simplify it for him. He wasn't a complete fool though. He knew the language of violence very well, and wasn't that really all politics was?

"I'm guessin' that's why you took a nap inside a statue, huh? Queen didn't want the guard outside our rooms bein' noticable. To her enemies or assassins or whatever."

"Well now we wait. But that storm, pretty isn't it? First time you go through one it feels like the end of days. But live here for ten years and you barely notice it even roll through anymore.," says your guard as he lounges on a cushion.

Click to shrink...

"Looks a lot like a hurricane. 'Cept not nearly as wet. She really wasn't kidding when she said everything moved... What's your name, friend? Might as well get acquainted while we're waiting, we're probably gonna be working with each other some."

He was rather interested, seeing as the other man was very obviously a fighter of some type. Sabers... well, frankly, Musko didn't often encounter someone wielding one of them very well, it was usually all straight swords with swordsmen of those schools. Mostly 'cuz people thought straight swords looked cooler. He had to admit, he could academically see the appeal of being all fancy and nimble with your weapon... But it just wasn't for him.

 

[Unlucky Bibliophile]

"Well follow me then, ask any questions you may have along the way. It's why I am here. The Queen is not actually in these quarters at the moment, so I need to lead you to the throne room. There were some changes in the political scene. To put it in the most simple of terms, a decent amount of people thought this little ritual of hers would not work." He quickly speaks, obvious boredom intruding into his words.

Click to shrink...

That much was understandable. There were always skeptics until you either got results or got the boot. With a ritual that was untested, it was probably a great thing that they weren't splattered guts across the floor or dust in the cosmic wind.

"Who would those people be?" asked Callista, sincere curiosity tinging her tone. She wanted to gather information about the queen's detractors. In the world of espionage, intrigue was a closely held tool of politics and vise versa.

This walk stretched on for some time until the group reaches what could only be described as a waiting room. Lavish couches and soft cushions were scattered about. But the most eye drawing part of the room above all was a large glass window on one end. It seemed your little group awoke upon a large tower. Giving you a view stretching for what could be miles. The lands below were massive rolling dunes of white ash in every direction. Only the occasional spire sticking out of the volcanic ash hinting at the city that laid underneath it all. Moving upon these ash fields was a massive herd of… mushrooms? They scuttled along the ground kicking up massive plooms of ash in their movements. Their large branch like legs letting them move at an astonishing speed. But far far in the horizon, a pitch black storm was moving towards the capital. Lightning cracked up and down this massive storm of ash, even now you can feel the roaring thunder as it bore down on the city.

"Well now we wait. But that storm, pretty isn't it? First time you go through one it feels like the end of days. But live here for ten years and you barely notice it even roll through anymore.," says your guard as he lounges on a cushion.

Click to shrink...

"It truly is quite a sight. I haven't seen anything quite like it," said Callista, sitting down and staring at the moving... herd? Was it herd? At any rate, Callista watched the moving group of fungi escaping the storm. Thunder roared, shaking the air with its fury. Lightning streaked through the sky. "The storm must be pretty bad if everything is trying to run away from it."

"I hope we don't have to do that, too." Callista laughed weakly. Not all of her nervousness was faked.

While she was stationed in the Middle East, Callista was pretty familiar with dust storms. She even had the experience of being out during the middle of one. It wasn't a pleasant experience to say the least. The high winds and choking dust made navigating absolutely miserable. It also made for good cover for infiltration. Regardless, Callista didn't wish to recreate that experience unless she had to.

However, Callista can't say she had seen a thunderstorm like this before.

 

[Chronobreak]

A black haired servant stood at the doorway entrance. She bows to the group, her remaining left arm placed on her heart. There were a number of scars on her features beyond the missing limb. A terrible jagged line running down what little you could see of her neck.

"Ah, you have awoken. Let me wake your escort." She says in a gravelly voice as she stands straight from her bow and walks over to one of the two identical stone statues standing beside the entrance. The maid reaches out and lightly taps one of its shoulders.

Massive cracks in its stone body start to rapidly form. With one great shudder the statue crumbles away, revealing a man hidden inside of its body. He gives a small yawn as he shakes off little pieces of stone still clinging to him.

He wore a large armor skirt, its chain and plate clinking lightly with his every step. His upper body clothed in some sort of odd robe that you can tell had some sort of armor under it. A large glowing saber without a sheath was strapped to his side.

The man reaches up and removes the mask covering his face. Revealing his darker complexion and brown eyes that held a hint of curiosity.

"Ah, how long has it been Mary?"

"Five days sir." The maid quickly answers.

"Well then, I hope your trip between the endless all consuming voids were comfy." He says rolling his shoulders. The stone he broke out of now melting into the ground, rejoining the stone floors.

"Well follow me then, ask any questions you may have along the way. It's why I am here. The Queen is not actually in these quarters at the moment, so I need to lead you to the throne room. There were some changes in the political scene. To put it in the most simple of terms, a decent amount of people thought this little ritual of hers would not work." He quickly speaks, obvious boredom intruding into his words.

With that he turns on the spot, leading the group down a dizzying array of halls. The majority of the being barren stone or marble hallways, with only the occasional servant who hustles by. Giving the group odd looks as they go on about their days. One even had a large fluffy fox tail who had to wrestle with their own tail to make sure it did not brush up against the group.

This walk stretched on for some time until the group reaches what could only be described as a waiting room. Lavish couches and soft cushions were scattered about. But the most eye drawing part of the room above all was a large glass window on one end. It seemed your little group awoke upon a large tower. Giving you a view stretching for what could be miles. The lands below were massive rolling dunes of white ash in every direction. Only the occasional spire sticking out of the volcanic ash hinting at the city that laid underneath it all. Moving upon these ash fields was a massive herd of… mushrooms? They scuttled along the ground kicking up massive plooms of ash in their movements. Their large branch like legs letting them move at an astonishing speed. But far far in the horizon, a pitch black storm was moving towards the capital. Lightning cracked up and down this massive storm of ash, even now you can feel the roaring thunder as it bore down on the city.

"Well now we wait. But that storm, pretty isn't it? First time you go through one it feels like the end of days. But live here for ten years and you barely notice it even roll through anymore.," says your guard as he lounges on a cushion.

Click to shrink...

A mutated young man trudged towards the window of the room, his breath held hostage in his lungs as he leaned forwards to see as much of the surrounding area as he could, only for his flesh-hat thing that replaced his beautiful hair to smoosh against the glass, covering it in a puff of grainy white powder. Matsu backed away, looking back at the assembled group, and then hastily rubbing the smudges off with the sleeve of his shirt.

"I'm sorry. Wasn't paying attention to...well, me. It's might pretty outside, though I bet the city below is even more marvelous. We're...we're rather high up, are we?"

Matsu's senses swam with dizziness, but he tried to make sure he didn't seem like he was about to fall over.

"The storm must be pretty bad if everything is trying to run away from it."

"I hope we don't have to do that, too." Callista laughed weakly. Not all of her nervousness was faked.

Click to shrink...

"When that storm hits us, it's gonna be rather...bracing," Matsu admitted, shivering in anticipation. "That's good. I can feel the idleness that has set in my bones. Though it's good that we're in here. I'm afraid to say I'm not as fast as Bolt."

Matsu pushed his arms above him, twisting and turning his heavyhanded limbs to work out the kinks, before abruptly stopping, not knowing if it was socially acceptable or not, and sheepishly hunching over, lifting his scalp-flap up and out of the way to better enjoy the view.

There was a lot going on...and he didn't think he was prepared as he would like.

 

[MiracleGrow]

"Laesh Zumxalim. You need to stress the a on it to pronounce it right." Laesh says leaning back in his chair.

"For your first question, not everyone does. Mostly happens to those who go through the void. Second question, you're correct somewhat. I can not discuss details of that further. Beyond the fact that the portmaster of Port Bellsight, and various lords who live there are a bit displeased."

He lazily waves his hand, as if brushing off any concerns of assassination.

"Don't worry too much about it. They bitten off more they can chew and are choking on the fat. Just have to wait a little while for them to stomach it."

In the ashen wastes the storm still approaches. It's apparent strength and ferocity grow clearer as it approaches. It was not only kicking up ash from the endless hills, but rearranging entire hills as it passed. It looked less like a thunderstorm up close and more like a massive flood that shattered everything it came across.

But far in the storm cloud you see a large figure dive out of its clouds. A sleek black scaled flying dragon straight out of myth and story. Though quite a bit smaller than you would think, barely larger than a horse. It lets out a mighty roar for its size as it swoops down towards the tower. Rapidly approaching directly at the window of the room.

But Laesh looks unconcerned, barely paying the dragon rapidly approaching any attention. At the last moment it pulls up from its dive and slams into what seems to be a room above your waiting room. Causing the tower to shake slightly. The moment the dragon seems to 'dock' with the tower. A blue shimmer forms outside the windows. It grows in strength until it completely obstructs the view outside the tower.

"That's the tower's defense system. Since it rises so high out of the dunes it needs some sort of enhancement to keep it from being obliterated by the storms. An incredible piece of work by the college." Laesh says as he lazily rises from his seat.

"Oh yeah, you might want to grab something." The warrior reaches out and grips the side of a couch. Lowering into a crouch.

Not five seconds later the entire tower is hit with an explosive amount of force. The entire room shook violently in what feels like a terrible earthquake from the end of days itself. The bolted down furniture rattles against their bonds. This continues one for a couple of minutes until the blue shimmer outside grows further in strength. Slowly it subsidies, until it's all but a light rattle.

"Welcome to the Ashenlands I guess, the Queen should be seeing us soon. Any last things you want to clear up before going in there? She has been a bit irritable as of late."

 

[THatWhichWillBe]

"Laesh Zumxalim. You need to stress the a on it to pronounce it right." Laesh says leaning back in his chair.

Click to shrink...

"... Laysh Zumxahlihm." It's a strange name, and Musko finds that it's a bit like... smooth peanut butter on the tongue. Thick and cloying, and hard work for the jaws. "I probably butchered it, didn't I. For my part, the name's Musko Reeves."

"Don't worry too much about it. They bitten off more they can chew and are choking on the fat. Just have to wait a little while for them to stomach it."

Click to shrink...

Musko shrugs, unconcerned. Scheming was not his strong suit. If they wanted to cause a fuss, he could care less. Unless it involved daggers in his back, in which case he could handle things the way he knew best. Everything else was the Queen's problem. ... Maybe one of his fellow summoned wanted to dip their toes in that swamp, but it was not for him.

Not five seconds later the entire tower is hit with an explosive amount of force. The entire room shook violently in what feels like a terrible earthquake from the end of days itself. The bolted down furniture rattles against their bonds. This continues one for a couple of minutes until the blue shimmer outside grows further in strength. Slowly it subsidies, until it's all but a light rattle.

Click to shrink...

With a whirl and a metallic ring, Musko brings his staff down upon the floor, using it to steady himself in the shaking. He bites back a series of caustic curses that'd make even the roughest of sailors blush. Was this what they had to deal with every time a storm hit? Good god! It made a Hurricane look like a damn joke. He was starting to see why the Ashenlands were generally considered inhospitable, if this was what they had to work with. He felt rather irked embarassed. He hadn't felt this off-guard in.... forever. He'd scrambled like a schoolkid, really.

"Welcome to the Ashenlands I guess, the Queen should be seeing us soon. Any last things you want to clear up before going in there? She has been a bit irritable as of late."

Click to shrink...

"... Any buttons we should avoid pressing at all costs?"

 

[MiracleGrow]

"Nothing really at the moment, she just been through a lot. Don't make her be too physical." Laesh quickly answers.

The large marble doors on the side of the room let out a loud click and an intricate glowing sigil slowly spreads itself across its surface. It's blue radiance flooding the room with light before blinking out.

"And that's the lock, she is ready to see us." Laesh stands to his feet, resting his hand on the hilt of his blade. He taps the door and it slowly begins to grind open, revealing a dark hallway lined with towering statues.

"After you," He bows to the group and motions for them to go forward.

Ten statues stood in the hallway, all of women in grand clothing from ages past. Each statue crafted to complete perfection, catching the radiance of what you would assume is every queen that has ever ruled the ashenland. But at the end of the hallway standing above the final door to the Queen's chamber. The last statue that stood apart from the rest.

Instead of being carved from perfect marble, it was carved from obsidian. An overall jagged messy piece of a statue. It was covered in hundreds of imperfections, as if someone took a hammer to this statue before. Or were those imperfections done on purpose? Who knows. But one thing stood out above all else. In its eye sockets to glowing blue gems were socketed. Energy slowly swirling inside of them as they stared back at you in perfect silence.

To the left of the statue was one last podium, an empty one. Reading 'The eleventh Queen of the Ashenlands.'

Before anyone else can really get a better look at the statues the door below the obsidian statue is flung open. A guard cloaked in pure black holding a jagged obsidian spear stands on the other side. Taking in your appearances, they give a single nod before standing aside.

The throne room was a rather simple affair, random oddities and trophies layed scattered about on shelves. Nearly every inch of the walls was covered in various paintings, either of past queens or heroes of the ashenlands. And a couple of odd ones that look like they came from the eternal empire. Portraying a tall eleven woman wearing silks and jewelry that looks so expensive it's physically painful even to those travelers from rich backgrounds.

At the far end of the room sat a small obsidian throne with a desk sitting in front of it covered in various documents.

"This fuuuuucccckkkinnnggg hurtttsss. " A squeaky voice groans out across the room. You would recognize the Queen's voice from anywhere.

The Queen lay sprawled on the throne (shorter than what she said she is). Her impressively long grey hair was messily sprawled out across the throne. Her remaining right arm clutched the side of the throne weakly as she winced in pain.

At her feet crotches a stone faced nurse. Her maid's clothes brushing the floor as she tended to the… Queen's right black chitin leg? It stood out compared to her normal leg. But blood visibly drips down its surface. Which the maid quickly cleans up.

"Queen, it takes a while for its teeth to adjust to the stump. Just a little longer okay?" The nurse sighs as she continues to wipe away at the blood slowly traveling down the black leg.

The Queen's amber eyes widen at your approach. She attempts to struggle to her feet but she collapses back onto the throne with a yelp of pain.

"T-travelers, it's nice to see you I-I suppose." The Queen awkwardly yells as she leans back into her throne.

"Things kind of… didn't go so well in the summoning. B-but you're okay! Which is great I suppose! So welcome to the Ashenlands I guess. Wish I could be in better shape, but oh well."

 

[THatWhichWillBe]

The Queen's amber eyes widen at your approach. She attempts to struggle to her feet but she collapses back onto the throne with a yelp of pain.

"T-travelers, it's nice to see you I-I suppose." The Queen awkwardly yells as she leans back into her throne.

"Things kind of… didn't go so well in the summoning. B-but you're okay! Which is great I suppose! So welcome to the Ashenlands I guess. Wish I could be in better shape, but oh well."

Click to shrink...

Musko winces, his face scrunching up as he assesses the... damage. He'd seen injuries like this before, sure. In the business he got up to losing limbs was... while not common, not too rare. Seeing them on a child was another matter, though.

"Damn, kiddo. You lose those in the ritual? It musta been a real shitshow. What happened?"

His face eases a bit, cracking a smile as he tries to lighten the mood.

"I suppose lookin' on the bright side... This means you can have a sword for a hand, and what's not to like about that? Make it an axe or somethin' if you prefer."

 

[Unlucky Bibliophile]

"T-travelers, it's nice to see you I-I suppose." The Queen awkwardly yells as she leans back into her throne.

"Things kind of… didn't go so well in the summoning. B-but you're okay! Which is great I suppose! So welcome to the Ashenlands I guess. Wish I could be in better shape, but oh well."

Click to shrink...

Callista frowned, seeing the Queen's new appendages. She was pretty sure those were recent. Very recent. Her last memory of the Queen hadn't had those chitin looking limbs. The blood dripping to the floor, along with the Queen's rather exhausted demeanor further provided evidence.

Visibly, Callista winced, allowing herself to look nauseous and pale. That was the expected reaction. She didn't feel disturbed, however. Not really. Years of working as a case officer had inundated Callista to a variety of awful sights, but it paid to lay the foundations for her persona.

"N-No need to s-stand on our account, your majesty," she stuttered, putting up a palm as a placating gesture. For a brief moment, Callista wondered if it was a pun or a joke made in bad taste, but she discarded the thought. She coughed, clearing her throat as she seemingly regained her composure. "At any rate, you have my sincere wishes for your swift and painless recovery. But all that aside, you summoned us all here for a reason, right?"

 

[Jemnite]

Rise's face was pale with fright. "I-" can speed that up, she almost said but she caught herself before she blurted it out. She couldn't do anything about that. Why had she felt the impulse to say that anyways?

One day.

The awkwardness of having made sound but not said anything hung around Rise. For a moment she considered trying to cover it up, say something meaningless and natural to make it seem as if she had meant to open her mouth in the first place but after a quick glance around she realized it was probably unnecessary. Nobody had noticed her brief error and so she slunk backwards, to the rear, to continue her quiet observation.

 

[Omida]

Hilda's heart skipped a frightened beat at the state the Queen greeted them in. Was it the price for them gazing into the unknown? She opened her mouth to offer reassurance only to find that no words came forth. What was she supposed to say? Welcome her in the 'My limb has been mutilated by the strange magics of this place' club? Offer empty platitudes about pain eventually passing? Swallowing hard, she shook her head, before kneeling before the Queen, whom she owed the debt that she was unsure could be repaid.

"I cannot speak for others, but if it had lessened your ordeal, I would gladly wait until you were in better state." She speaks softly, before catching that train of thought. The message said they were asleep for five days. Was Queen's situation that severe that she risked early appearance even when she didn't fully recover?