True to her word, Vara Jorina visits the library and extensively records and notes everything they have on the Far Realms. She finally leaves in the morning, exhausted but confident that she is better informed about what could possibly be afflicting Rannia.
On her way home, in the Hive, she stops by a few stalls in the market place and orders some wooden planks and a nice bed and has them to be delivered to her home. Once inside she slips into a reverie.
A Look Into The Depths Of Madness
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*Mander
- Posts: 374
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound echoed through the chamber, playing across the stones. Deep under sigil, Mashano sat in the meditative pose he'd taken so often, but calm was far beyond his reach. He'd fled into the depths after glimpsing what lay between, and now the red wizard struggled to reshape his mind from the gibbering mess it had become. He knew he was alone in the chamber, knew his undead servants were standing watch throughout the nearby sewers...but he felt as if a bug under a looking glass, being peeled apart bit by bit under the watch of unknowable observers. Every crack in the stones spoke of cavernous maws, every patch of moss cancerous growths stretching on beyond sight.
"The process, if I can complete the process..." He croaked for time beyond count, staring at the tools before him. He was certain, if he could finally transcend the flesh and join the ranks of the worm emissaries, an unliving lich, this newfound knowledge would be easier to withstand, perhaps even use! Mashano had started the rituals, part of himself realizing he'd been making strange alterations in invocation and hermetics, veering off from the planned path. But something was still *missing*. He wouldn't, couldn't, go any further until he knew what was needed.
In the meantime, he would sleep. As far along the pale path as he had traveled, he still needed it. He knew the nightmares would be beyond all description, but he found himself wishing he could understand the mad visions as *she* did....
"The process, if I can complete the process..." He croaked for time beyond count, staring at the tools before him. He was certain, if he could finally transcend the flesh and join the ranks of the worm emissaries, an unliving lich, this newfound knowledge would be easier to withstand, perhaps even use! Mashano had started the rituals, part of himself realizing he'd been making strange alterations in invocation and hermetics, veering off from the planned path. But something was still *missing*. He wouldn't, couldn't, go any further until he knew what was needed.
In the meantime, he would sleep. As far along the pale path as he had traveled, he still needed it. He knew the nightmares would be beyond all description, but he found himself wishing he could understand the mad visions as *she* did....
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*Veylandemar
- Posts: 13
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The cacophony raged upon her mindscape, countless foreign thoughts fighting for dominance of her will. The tiefling's mind interpreted each as a voice screaming, pleading, begging, ordering...
Rannia stumbled her way through the alleyway, carefully stepping over the cold, lifeless form of an unfortunate hiver. She favoured the corpse a brief glance and frowned. It had been picked clean of anything worth claiming. Rodents hissed and squeaked at her invasion of their evenfeast, some amongst them with fleshy grey-pink growths protruding from their skulls.
The cranium rats eyed her warily, their psionics touching upon the aberrant influence. As one, they scurried back into the shadows, their tiny eyes watching curiously.
A large black rat hissed, unlike the others it wasn't blessed with Illsensine's touch and cunning. It scurried forward, gore staining its' whiskers. It made it to the hem of the woman's tattered cloak before its' movement was arrested and redirected. Her tail, long and rodentlike itself but for the sinister spine capping its' tip ,speared forth from the folds of the filth-stained garment to catch her attacker's side. It pierced easily through the aggressor's hide and flesh, bursting aside its' tiny ribs and shredding its' innards.
Rannia brought her catch into the light and regarded the rodent as it spasmed, muted squeals choking from its' maw. Gnarled, filthy hands reached out, grasping the animal for long enough to snap its' neck and still its' twitching - The meat would keep. It wasn't often that dinner threw itself so readily at her.
The tiefling pried the future meal from her tail and bundled it up within the tatters of her cloak, then carried on down the alleyway. The cacophony demanded that she do no less.
She reached the alley's end and sat herself before a moss-caked wall, it was here that she would work their will and give expression to the madness. She drew forth a worn knapsack, it clattered and clinked as the contents within shifted. Reverently she opened it and carefully removed a dozen tiny clay pots, each stained with different hues of paint.
Rannia cleared away the moss from the wall, it would be her canvas, it would be their window. Countless eyes fell upon her as she began to paint.
Rannia stumbled her way through the alleyway, carefully stepping over the cold, lifeless form of an unfortunate hiver. She favoured the corpse a brief glance and frowned. It had been picked clean of anything worth claiming. Rodents hissed and squeaked at her invasion of their evenfeast, some amongst them with fleshy grey-pink growths protruding from their skulls.
The cranium rats eyed her warily, their psionics touching upon the aberrant influence. As one, they scurried back into the shadows, their tiny eyes watching curiously.
A large black rat hissed, unlike the others it wasn't blessed with Illsensine's touch and cunning. It scurried forward, gore staining its' whiskers. It made it to the hem of the woman's tattered cloak before its' movement was arrested and redirected. Her tail, long and rodentlike itself but for the sinister spine capping its' tip ,speared forth from the folds of the filth-stained garment to catch her attacker's side. It pierced easily through the aggressor's hide and flesh, bursting aside its' tiny ribs and shredding its' innards.
Rannia brought her catch into the light and regarded the rodent as it spasmed, muted squeals choking from its' maw. Gnarled, filthy hands reached out, grasping the animal for long enough to snap its' neck and still its' twitching - The meat would keep. It wasn't often that dinner threw itself so readily at her.
The tiefling pried the future meal from her tail and bundled it up within the tatters of her cloak, then carried on down the alleyway. The cacophony demanded that she do no less.
She reached the alley's end and sat herself before a moss-caked wall, it was here that she would work their will and give expression to the madness. She drew forth a worn knapsack, it clattered and clinked as the contents within shifted. Reverently she opened it and carefully removed a dozen tiny clay pots, each stained with different hues of paint.
Rannia cleared away the moss from the wall, it would be her canvas, it would be their window. Countless eyes fell upon her as she began to paint.