(Donation) From darkness to light

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witchkissed
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Joined: Tue Mar 23, 2021 12:56 am

Posted by witchkissed »


You open your eyes. Again the gloom and darkness surround you. Lit only by your natural ability for dark vision. You are Drow. You touch the skin of your arms as you always have for the last few hundred years. Your home, a stone tower of the blackest stone. A mild cold that does not come from weather, but rather from the plane that has been your home since a child and your mothers before that. The Shadowfell. You are Z'inthru'harael X'inthar'ick.

(Vision blurs ahead with motes of light stretching at speed. Your vision comes to focus again in a new location.)

You are bent over your alchemical lab. The sound of a flickering flame from the nearby wall sconce the only sound in this room. Alchemical formulae on parchment scattered about your work area. Crinkled with age and delicate to the touch. The parchment looks grey as if the color had been sucked out of it. The entire chamber smells of the various potions and mixtures you've made. A mix of rancid and sweet that almost leaves a feeling of bitterness on your tongue.

You pull out the bottom most parchment. A diagram of a mighty looking mechanical construct is present. Mathematical and magical formulae are scribbled throughout. Your latest project. Your magnum opus a Mithral Golem. Your vision fades to black as you feel a smile spread across your face.

(Vision blurs ahead with motes of light stretching at speed. Your vision comes to focus again in a new location.)

You gaze at a field of grey grass and a slightly more grey sky. A large even darker shadow looms near you. As you look to the side and up, you see your years of research culminating as a giant Mithral Golem. You touch the cool silvery metal of the fist that hangs near your side. The intricate metal runes filling with light as each rune around the body lights up as if hit by a slow wave. Each lights up with a soft vibrational hum. The golem slowly moves with a new life to it. It stands erect and turns to look at you. It's soft blue eyes glowing. It opens its mouth amd a hollow sound like the tapping of a thin metal sheet being shit by wind. "Instructions" it announces.

(Vision blurs ahead with motes of light stretching at speed. Your vision comes to focus again in a new location.)

You stand at the edge of a portal to the Shadowfell. One foot in and one on the other side. Before you lies the Temporal Energy plane. As it befits time, continually in motion. It is a blue gray windstorm with neither a base nor a top, an expanse of energy amd light mists. A slight smell of ozone in the the area. Temporal Whirlpools dot the landscape. Everywhere you look you see thick rope like energy streams akin to running water. A dull wooshing hum througout the area. Next to you at the precipice of the portal stands your golem. You reach out for the ever crisscrossing energy streams woth though and magic as you attempt to pull essences of time out and attach them to your golem.

(Vision blurs ahead with motes of light stretching at speed. Your vision comes to focus again.)

You open your eyes. Your vision a bit blurry. You are in the Shadowfell once more. Your head throbbing in pain. You try to recall what happened. You look around and see Rusted metal parts. You begin to recall. In your arrogance, you pulled pure essence of time an managed to attach it to your golem with a sweat stained brow by sheer force of will. Mear seconds later, your Golem master piece of mortal hands is consumed by the unstable energies of the plane. It begins to rust before your eyes as if aging and begins to tremble. The energies begin to tear it apart. As you run back into the Shadowfell, the portal closes as the golem is halfway between. It explodes. The shockwave of force and time energy hitting you. The wreck you see before you is only half of your golem. The rest, lost to time, both figuratively and literally.

(Vision blurs ahead with motes of light stretching at speed. Your vision comes to focus again in a new location.)

You finally make it back to your tower. Exhaused and dragging your body with what little energy you have. The familiar sounds no longer bringing with them a comfort. You go to your wash basin and let the cool water splash your face. As you lift your face to your mirror, you are confronted with a face you have not seen in 1000 years. It is your face when you were a meer young adult of 120 years. Your eyes open wide with horror as you realize you no longer remember any of your magicks. Nor do you recall how you possibly could have built such a thing as a golem. The accident not returned your youth, taking with it all the knowledge gained via hundreds of years of arcane and scientific study. You vow to learn from your mistake and arrogance and to relearn all you have lost.

(Vision blurs ahead with motes of light stretching at speed. Your vision comes to focus again in a new location.)

You smell the smoggy humid air. The sounds of every manner of being walking past you. Twenty different languages being spoken at once by the many. Before you stands Sigil. A city with new beginnings. You think to yourself. " Where can I begin my research anew"
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