Public Sensorium

silinrul357
Posts: 59
Joined: Tue May 12, 2020 6:22 pm

Posted by silinrul357 »


Sane Insanity - Submitted by Minasien

Your eyes open, and you are staring at your own reflection in the water of a running river in the Outlands. You take in your own features, knowing youself to be the drow "Minasien," even taking careful time to think of yourself as the Mystic spellcaster that has been helping with the war efforts in the Outlands fronts, the war against an alternate, invading Sigil. You know you're thinking these things specifically to give these thoughts to whomever might read the stone, although you also know, you meant this stone for specific people.

That actually makes you grin a bit as you pull away from the water and pull out a pocket mirror as your thoughts drift to how silly this actually is, leaving a message like this in a sensory stone, but you also know there's truly nothing else like it that could so adequately get across your feelings. There is a giddiness with what you are about to say, equally shared with a great sorrow as you begin to walk with no direction, looking at yourself in your mirror so whomever sees this stone knows you are talking to them.

"Hi there. First of all, if you're some random person whom found this random stone I did my best to make un-noticable, congratulations! I bleed at true stealth, but given you're in a sensorium with hundreds, if not thousands of stones to choose from, I'm surprised you'd choose one like this. Ah well, hopefully it's entertaining. If you're one of those I meant this for? Good job on finding it. I do like my games, I had to give one last before I left."

You sit down on a nearby rock, your eyes glancing ever so briefly between the river, and then back to the mirror, another wave of giddy-sadness hitting you; it's a chaotic swirl of emotion that makes you question your own sanity as you continue, "If things go as I'm planning, by the time you see this, I will be long gone. And I'll explain why in very short detail..."

You look away from the mirror to simply look around, letting your gaze pan slowly to the view and surroundings, taking it in and knowing well you may never see it again. You laugh at no one, suddenly coming to a realization you vocalize.

"It's kinda silly, I thought so long about how long about how I wanted to say and do this, and now that I'm here, I don't really care about my plan. So I'm going to roll the dice. I'm not going to rehash my entire history, but that which has driven me to these final decisions. A time ago in my past, I had something of a trouble of dopplegangers, ones from 'other worlds.' The short version to that crisis was that they were 'handled,' and now I'm fine and safe, but the planeswalkers that handled it... well, you don't mess with time and space without consequence. Added to that, dark has it my father was a real bad guy in this verse and dimension, and some of those walkers of these incidents came from other dimensions, and they mentioned that over there he's not only alive, which puts him at odds from this world, but he's a real high-up blood."

Thoughts swirl to the current war in the outlands as you grin back into the mirror, 'looking' at whomever may be watching, "That sound familiar to you? If you're in Sigil during the time I'm making this, it rusting will. When this war broke out, as any reasonable person might expect, I thought that all of this time spent looking for whom I am, what I am, where I belong, was finally going to get some answers."

Your gaze shoots left to a creature, a dragon or half dragon, gray of scale and only about as tall as an average human, standing bipedal on a lithe, muscular form. He looks right back at you, one eye a black void, the other a swirl of colors. It's not clear even to yourself which is which, but you instinctively recognize him as both the source for some of your most recent revelations as well as the questioning of your own sanity as of late. You can look at him, even feel him, and you have punched him in the past and it hurt, but no one else has seen or heard him, even with divinations and true sight. Even magic by an incredibly skilled dreamwalking fey could not find him. He wasn't real, but he was also not attached to your mind by your own knowledge. You were probably insane, and you knew it, but this no longer mattered to you. You spoke your next lines staring directly at this figure, knowing well it is a lesson he told you in your very first conversation.

"So rare it is, though, that the journey to find out our origins has a satisfying conclusion," you continue as your gaze finally pans back to the mirror, "I lost count of how many excursions I took outside of the cage, to a few worlds beyond. I got breadcrumbs, small bits of a trail to follow, and it ultimately led me back to Sigil right as this outbreak and other army started to invade."

The giddiness of your heart quickly faded, and conflicted sorrow mixed with uncertainty overwhelmed you, "and at first like reasonable cutters of my past might think, I thought I would finally get some answers, and my past would finally reveal itself. Well? It sorta did, and I could not have been more disappointed at first. I learned that all of this build-up was absolute horseblek. I could be wrong, but between this," you point and look at the dragonoid once more, "floating vision of my ever-increasing loss on reality, the fact that my answers have pointed to this whole invasion having only just minimal to no news of worries I was so sure would come to pass, and knowing ultimately that in all of this, I could be slowly losing my mind, it's managed to swirl into a strange sort of answer:"

You pause, and look into the mirror at yourself this time as much as you do whom you're communicating to, "None of matters to me anymore. I got my answers, even if they were partially from an imaginary jackass. They sucked. And upon knowing that, I realized that I've been wasting all this time looking for something that didn't really matter. Even if there is more to find, even if more answers are still hidden among all these enemy fanatics, I don't care anymore. It's a demiplane."

You stand, and look once more at the source of your insanity. He stares right back only a moment, before this time turning and simply floating away, into the sky and fading from view as you continue to speak to your listeners, "and I now stand ready to either chase after something that will render me insane, or change my life forever. I'll spare you the details, because if you are hearing this, whomever you are, you can already feel the chaotic swirl of emotions and thoughts. Maybe it's just a side effect of the slaad gear I wear all the damned time, even now. Or, maybe it's the real real. Either way, I've decided to follow them. They asked for my help. This time, it's my choice, and I want to follow and answer that call. So I'm gonna."

You look towards a direction you know will take you to Faunel, the gate town to the Beastlands as well as a source of some great unease. Thoughts of swirling forms, dragons, demons, and all sorts of creatures of darkness flood your mind. There is some brief fright and dread even as the memory of a portal of dark hits your mind once more, but you quickly push it away. You have a message to continue, and you do so.

"But if you do see this, whomever you are whether those I meant this for or not, if this is during the time of the war? Be careful. I could not implore you more. Those dark ones we fought before that portal I closed, and the sheer darkness, malice, blood... all of those feelings..." a feeling of dread fell over you as you continued, "I never have felt something like that. I worked for days to seal that portal, and for all I know, it could be simply warping my mind to something absolutely jumping the wrong way at things. Another reason I might be losing my damned mind. Either way, I have enough sense to know what I felt. That dark, that evil? It was profound. Any whom were there, whom saw it at a glance could tell you that, and I got to sit with it for days."

You finally begin walking, and look back to the mirror, "I'm not gonna be able to help with it anymore. I might be completely insane. I might be on to something that will lead me to how I can truly make the most difference, how to help people. I'm not sure which, and I don't care anymore because I'm gonna do it. If you're a random cutter that just happened across this stone? Be wary of my warnings, I implore you. These dark powers from this other world are like something I wish I'd never seen, and whether or not they had any lasting effect on me I still don't know. You'd do well to take precaution."

There was a pause, and a little bit of joy floods into you once more, accompanied by sadness "If you're someone whom knows me already, whom I sent looking for this stone? I probably already told you this, but I'll miss you. I really will, but I can't come back. Not after what I saw. I love you like you were my family, and by every power and their mother I hope you stay safe in all of this. I am sorry I cannot accompany you to the end of this war, but you know already how much I wish you to stay well. All the same? Take care of yourselves, and don't do anything too stupid or reckless. There's only enough room for one 'me' in the verse, after all, heh heh..."

You close the mirror and your eyes. You let the memory fade, and the stone ends.
Ailander
Posts: 20
Joined: Fri May 21, 2021 11:05 am

Posted by Ailander »


Another Day

The first thing that comes to your mind, is darkness in the far end of your sight,all around you walls of dirts and stalagmites, you are in a complex of caves under Hilltop, a place near Baldur's Gate, your old home, a place you swore to defend. The dark has never really been an issue, your ancestry allow you to see perfectly even in the most black cave. The second thing, is pain.Your limbs and muscles are screaming for how much have been used, a flaming flail in your right hand, a large adamantium shield in the other.All around you signs of explosions and lingering little flames are burning what looks like decayed bodies, undead of various sorts.. In the far end of the cave evil fiery eyes, more than thirty, are staring to you and the black dragon near you, he is a human, Morgan, he is a wizard and turned into a dragon to be able to fight them: Balors. Servants of Orcus... you were there to investigate, you gathered people to help the search. A trustful friend and informant told you that there has been cultists activity there, they were doing some sort of ritual, the purpouse unknown..but you are sure that given their intentions on the Coast, is nothing good.At first you just wanted for master Bhor and Morgan to be with you, they are people you can trust, they did not believe the lies involving you and the drow Tina, but others decided to join the cause too when you said there were cultists activities...even the Radiant Hearts got an interest, you thought what Vanira said at Triel was true, that he misunderstood her and the Radiants intentions...he did not oppose and welcome her subordinate Nigel,a human ranger,a scout since several years under her service...a scumbag.With him, Morgan, Bhor and squire Orieanelle, a young paladin of Ilmater, you feel confident in taking also sister Ashenie and a young elven wizard that was there to help...later on, discovered was a spy, given the name to a trustful ally in Baldur's Gate and forgot about her.Once down the cave, "Mouse" a peculiar sun elf, your friend and trustful informant that warned you about the cultists and came with a prisoner as well to Beregost, tagged along.


The search was long, it took hours and when nothing seemed to be found, one by one they left and deserted. Master Bhor was called with urgency back to the Karaak, Orneaille came less to her duty of protection to sister Ashenie and left for reasons unknown...Nigel disappeared without saying a word after interrogating Mouse along the way, you didn't pay enough attention to it. You will regret it the next day for not have done so.Since the group was disbanding, you all thought to leave when you hear growling feral sounds from the tunnel towards the exit. Hellhounds came forth like heralds of the storm to come, attacking everyone togheter with bladelings. They didn't put much of a fight,but were many..you lost count on how many you all fought and the fight was growing harder by the minute..sister Ashenie was not a fighter, she made a vow of non violence, while Mouse and the young elven wizard were there to scout and research..they were able to fend off the enemies, but not what came after.Suddenly balors joined the fray, they were strong but what was worst was that when they died they exploded in fiery flames..you were able to shield yourself with a spell, but others were not prepared. Everyone was barely able to stand, sister Ashenie almost fell..they trusted you, they put their lives in your hand..and you are forced to see them fall.You feel pain, not the kind that a blade would leave on your flesh, your heart is torn apart. Why was happening? what went wrong? why did they abandon you all? you have barely time to ask yourself these questions that a wave of balors stepped forward with rotten mummies in toe.You try to call for help with your medallion of sending, but the only answer that comes is "i am on my way" from Vanira among all you called.


You see the others tired, scared, sister Ashenie plea the fiends to stop the fight, but the balors laugh to her words and steps forward. You are desperate, you don't want to see them die, soon your desperation thought..twists. You get suddenly reminded of all the humiliation and sorrow you had to been through in the past days, what you had to face because of actions like that from the Radiants, you have been humiliated, branded, persecuted and now this...abandoned, left to die. You can almost understand that, if not for their actions dragged also innocents into that wickedness...you desperation turns into sadness and soon sadness grows back into a deep furious rage.You already felt that in the past, you felt it after recovering from the Halls betraying you, you have felt it when they refused to listen to your warning.You grip more fiercely your flail and held high your sacred symbol of Lathander, the light that starts to emanate from it is so sudden and intense that both fiends and undead are pushed back in fear. Gritting your teeth and narrowing your eyes you use those moments to cast few more blessings, you know that with them you are powerful enough to take head on a dragon. You become as tall as the balors and with a dim glow of light around you. You charge at them to bottleneck in the tunnel and allow the others to be safe behind you. Morgan soon joins your side and togheter start to hack the ranks of undead..they are many, you lose count again, and the best way to deal with them is through few casting of mass heals..the real problem turns to be the Tana'ri. Your flail has little effects and their fear starts to receed. What's worst, even if you manage to bring one down, it explode causing harm to Morgan and everyone else. You lower your head, push foward and bring the balors with you, so to put them out of harm's way. You are surrounded and cornerd, but at least the others are safe...at that point you find yourself into asking again "how did it end up like that?"..but you don't care anymore, two Balors tries to swing their blades at you and you just want to see them die.


The blades are poisoned and cursed, you have seen the people wounded from the attack to Baldur's Gate being bed ridden at the temple of the Broken God for days, you do your best to dodge and block with your shield, but still the whip in their other hands hit you. The blessings of Lathander protects you from most of the damage, but still the fight is fierce, your flail was not made to face outsiders. The battle keeps going on, no help arrives..Mouse and Morgan tries to help you how they can but they stay at distance.You are covered in blood from helmet to boots, you have lost counts after twenty balors and your vision start to blurry but finally the last balor face you, the blessings starts to wear off thought and you begin to feel more pain...at that time, finally, help arrives. Vanira appears out of nowhere and help bringing down the last Balor. You are furious, you tell her that will compile a complaining report about what happened...she just raise her eyebrow and ignores you. You are even more enraged when she start seeking around for the runes, you begin to despise her attitude and refuse to aid her..instead, you move backward, trying to help the woundeds to make it to safety, Vanira seems displeased when she comes back empty handed and you can't care less.Finally out of the cave, Mouse is get dragged away by Vanira. You try to interject but too exhausted, barely able to stand... sister Ashenie frail body helps you walk towards the nearby firecamp..Florina, a great swordswoman, a genasi,a friend, was there too...she looks at you and can see her unflinching expression get worried, asking what happened.You are bitter, hurt and in pain...everyone is safe but you are still full of spite for what happened and start telling to her the event. The people you care for could had died today.Ashenie is worried for you, her gentle words try to ease your mind while she cleans your wounds but you remains quiet, brooding still...Orneaille and Vanira reaches out after few minutes,Orneaille apologise for have left and Vanira as well seems contrited but says nothing.In the end you can't contain your fury no longer and lashes out to them, accusing them...you do not really want to do it but you can barely reason through the pain and fatigue, and you desperately want to put the blame on someone else..because you know, deep down, that the fault is only yours. You were not strong enough, you were not capable enough to protect them all...you would like to say it but you fail to convey it. The two leave and you just look at the fire a little more bitterly.


Ashenie start to speak again..her heals and gentle care soften up your rage a bit, you are not brooding anymore and you talk more gently to her. She is innocent and the purest soul on the coast..you do not want to see her hurt. You tell her that, you tell her that would be best if she doesn't follow you again...but she take it all wrong. You can see her sadness when she says that would had not been a burden anymore for you. You get even more sad, try to explain that is not what you meant, that you just want to protect her...but she just stand there, smiling, saying nothing. You feel even more guilty but in the end you are too tired...your eyes closes, your mouth fails midway and your next words are not conveyed.You fall asleep on the ground,someone puts a blanket on you but can barely feel that while your consciousness fade trying to give you some rest before the dawn rises again...because you know,now, that the next day would had been just as awful
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ShadowFox13
Posts: 38
Joined: Fri Dec 25, 2020 2:56 am

Posted by ShadowFox13 »


Two new stones have made it to the Sensorium shelves:

The Running of the Gorgons of Akimpo; a Runner's perspective - Donated by Factioneer Kelendri Alomiri

A fully immersive account of the traditional sport of the Outlands Town of Akimpo. You are running through the countryside, over rock, hills and dale, an enormous, domesticated gorgon, bigger than any you have ever seen, chasing you down. At one point you trip, stumble - lose sense of self, blackness, before you are dizzily regaining your feet and running, running more through a grassy plain to a village, and through until.... you reach the finish line, and there stands a Goblin, who you swore you heard the screams of back in the forest.


A Taste of Eye-Scream from Akimpo - Donated by Factioneer Kelendri Alomiri

A sensation of such sourness it could nearly turn your stomach, but for the additional smoothness of the Gorgon milk that went into the creation; a hint of blueberry that hits the roof of your mouth, from where half the tartness comes from.
Xndar
Posts: 6
Joined: Sat Jul 11, 2020 8:01 pm

Posted by Xndar »


The Running of the Gorgons of Akimpo; an Observer's perspective - Donated by Factioneer Intisar al-Saadis

You're flying through the mild afternoon air, watching the race from below. You see and hear the great gorgon rampaging across the countryside as the assorted humanoids, demon, and umber hulk flee at top speed. You wince and feel a bit of empathetic pain as half the race's participants get trampled by a wild herd of gorgons which wanders across the race's path.

A thrill of adrenaline, fear, and excitement bursts through the memory at the arrival of a great black wyrm, swooping down out of the sky to prey on the prized gorgon. The wyrm's roar vibrates the bones of your chest, jostles your organs, even from a distance.

The fight which follows is disorienting and chaotic, especially for any viewers who have never felt their physical body dissolve into pure eldritch essence before. When it is done however, and your corporeal body is resumed, there is a lingering sense of triumph that prevails over everything else.
Xndar
Posts: 6
Joined: Sat Jul 11, 2020 8:01 pm

Posted by Xndar »


A Hezrou and a Train - Donated by Factioneer Intisar al-Saadis

You're watching something truly bizarre - like a cosmic miracle on a mundane sort of scale. A hulking hezrou demon sits on his haunches, his brutish brow furrowed with concentration as he tries to carefully wind up the clockwork model train he just purchased from you.

You watch with morbid fascination, waiting for the inevitable moment when the demon loses patience with his task and decides to smash your work in a fit of pique. The moment doesn't come. Instead, the hezrou successfully winds up the toy and sets it loose, chugging along on the ground of the Cup.

The demon lifts his hand, and again you anticipate the blow and the crunching of metal and wood. Instead, he lowers it to gently nudge the engine around in a circle. For all the multiverse, this towering engine of destruction is behaving like an unusually restrained and engrossed toddler, enjoying his plaything.

There's a sense of awe and wonder that fills you, a touch of the sublime, that something so simple as a wind-up toy could dredge up such innocence in a powerful demon. There's also a rush of heart-wrenching despair and sorrow. The innocence reminds you that somewhere, buried under the centuries of torment and suffering and cruelty, there is a soul...and at some point that soul was a child. When would that child get to surface again?

You wonder, but cannot know.
ClearPine
Posts: 2
Joined: Tue Aug 16, 2022 1:09 am

Posted by ClearPine »


The First Time She Saw Her Reflection, donated by Xilin Tsaryov of the Sign of One

As you gaze into the orb, you feel different. Your skin is tight on your body, clinging to your bones, scored with scars all across. The evening sun through gauzy curtains does not fully illuminate the room, but it does enough that you can see yourself in the mirror before you.

Your long pink hair cascades down your shoulders, but not in the ratty way it normally does. No, it isn't messy or stringy. Instead... today, your hair looks lustrous. Clean. Beautiful. Only disrupted by the arcs of electricity dancing off of it.

The person in the mirror, you recognize as yourself, but that person in there isn't the boy you are out here. Instead, you see that gaunt, dusky blue face gazing back through navy irises and glowing white pupils - you know your eyes. But there's something different in them this time.

There's happiness. Not the happiness from a joke or from spite or even from relief. But something deeper. Your gaze shifts downward as you take in the reflection.

A silken, pink gown - you reconize it's been imported from a continent far to the west, a land called Skara - with a tight collar, buttoned on your neck, folded over your torso and buttoned there as well, with a lovely cream sash about your tiny, nearly skeletal waist, before the skirts billow out wide.


"So? What do you think?" the short woman, a full foot shorter than you, inquires from the background, a melodious, yet slightly raspy voice ringing from her. She's in a lavender kimono, her pin-straight, perfect black hair in a princess's haircut across her face. You love her. You're hopelessly in love with her But... right now, the focus is on you.

The chest may be flat, but from the way the hair is plaited, the garment, the joy in that face... You may be a boy out here... but the woman gazing back at you is a glimpse of hope. Of bliss. Of peace.

Of euphoria.
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