The Longest Thread (Misadventures)

[Aeoryi she/her]

24 minutes ago, Nameless* said:

"That depends. How well do you know the Inklings?"

"Well the person you are is very interesting." Subversion frowned. "Sorry, I'm not being very nice right now, am I? Is there any way I can help you remember who you are?"

"I cannot. No weapon can make right your wrongs." The Dreamsmith turned back to his forge. "Only you can do that. Only you can forgive yourself for Desolation's actions."

"Interesting." The Dreamsmith was silent for a moment. "So, do you want a weapon?"

"Well enough to name about 500 or the 620 of them." 

[Immortal Platypus]

1 hour ago, Nameless* said:

"Oh, I'm stretching it am I? What about this then?" Subversion snapped her fingers, and a (uninhabited) planet exploded.

"I have no idea! I just noticed you, so I appeared next to you. You seemed interesting."

The platypus growled and the planet came back together. Then life started in its oceans. "Yes. You are stretching it, you can't even smite Desolation. Again, not a god. Kinda similar, but not quite."

38 minutes ago, ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ said:

O come on! I was inactive at the moment!

There is a new narrator right there with you! He was just talking to Rirrom!

“I can take it, my name is Woe. I am a narrator. It sounds like you are in need of help. Can I take this blade and help?”

if it isn’t tooo late to go back.

Falvan stared at the Dreamsmith. “ Can you provide this blade?”

@Nameless*

platypus doesn't know him and wouldn't give him the blade. Especially with a name like Woe.

[Ancient Elantrian Elan/Elan/Elan/Elan/Elan]

19 minutes ago, Nameless* said:

"Hm. A weapon made from your soul would be very potent, I suspect. What manner of weapon would you like? Have you manifested a Narrationblade yet?"

“Not really. I’ve narrated myself blades, but not manifested a Narrationblade.”

[Aeoryi she/her]

Just now, Being of Cacophony said:

The platypus growled and the planet came back together. Then life started in its oceans. "Yes. You are stretching it, you can't even smite Desolation. Again, not a god. Kinda similar, but not quite."

platypus doesn't know him and wouldn't give him the blade. Especially with a name like Woe.

Please tell me platypus has enough density in the head to not give a omega powerful 1-off blade

[ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ Male]

6 minutes ago, Being of Cacophony said:

platypus doesn't know him and wouldn't give him the blade. Especially with a name like Woe.

Understandable. Definitely true. As for the name I was honestly trying to type fast And rhat was the first thing that came to mind.

Woe watched the two. “Are you Platypus? I have heard about you.  You have quite the reputation. A good one by the way.”

If he is already gone, he just said that to Rirrom about Platypus.

Edited September 18, 2023 by ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ

[Immortal Platypus]

4 minutes ago, ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ said:

Understandable. Definitely true. As for the name I was honestly trying to type fast And rhat was the first thing that came to mind.

Woe watched the two. “Are you Platypus? I have heard about you.  You have quite the reputation. A good one by the way.”

If he is already gone, he just said that to Rirrom about Platypus.

yah, he's already gone.

[Aeoryi she/her]

5 minutes ago, ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ said:

Understandable. Definitely true. As for the name I was honestly trying to type fast And rhat was the first thing that came to mind.

Woe watched the two. “Are you Platypus? I have heard about you.  You have quite the reputation. A good one by the way.”

If he is already gone, he just said that to Rirrom about Platypus.

"I myself am not platypus. I am Rirrom. Narrator of reflection."

[Immortal Platypus]

4 minutes ago, Aeoryi said:

"I myself am not platypus. I am Rirrom. Narrator of reflection."

did you intentionally misspell mirror backwards?

[NameIess]

20 minutes ago, Aeoryi said:

"Well enough to name about 500 or the 620 of them." 

"That should be sufficient. You know what they are like, where they live and how to get there, what the culture is?"

18 minutes ago, Being of Cacophony said:

The platypus growled and the planet came back together. Then life started in its oceans. "Yes. You are stretching it, you can't even smite Desolation. Again, not a god. Kinda similar, but not quite."

The oceans were soon teeming with horrifying monsters that fed off of hunger. "Gods can be limited and yet remain gods. Particularly when there are other gods involved. Or mortals with annoying magical weapons."

18 minutes ago, Ancient Elantrian said:

“Not really. I’ve narrated myself blades, but not manifested a Narrationblade.”

"So, I'd be the first person to ever have the opportunity to forge an Authorblade, eh? Sounds intriguing."

[ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ Male]

7 minutes ago, Aeoryi said:

"I myself am not platypus. I am Rirrom. Narrator of reflection."

Can I help you? I am a narrator looking for something to do. It sounds like you need help.

[Ancient Elantrian Elan/Elan/Elan/Elan/Elan]

Just now, Nameless* said:

"So, I'd be the first person to ever have the opportunity to forge an Authorblade, eh? Sounds intriguing."

The Once Author grinned. “You would be. Bragging rights at their highest.”

[ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ Male]

31 minutes ago, Nameless* said:

"I'll make it for you. But first, a choice." The Dreamsmith extended a hand towards his forge, and sparks shot from it into his outstretched palm. "I can make two weapons for you. One will become useless after it is used for its intended purpose, but it will do what you want it to do right now." He opened his hand to reveal a miniature sword made from burning fire that glowed for a brief moment with blinding heat, then vanished. "The other will not be as helpful as you want it to be, but it will not burn out so easily."

“I will take the latter. I am willing to be patient and accept something that will have more value in the long run.” Falvan said

[Aeoryi she/her]

7 minutes ago, Nameless* said:

"That should be sufficient. You know what they are like, where they live and how to get there, what the culture is?"

The oceans were soon teeming with horrifying monsters that fed off of hunger. "Gods can be limited and yet remain gods. Particularly when there are other gods involved. Or mortals with annoying magical weapons."

"So, I'd be the first person to ever have the opportunity to forge an Authorblade, eh? Sounds intriguing."

"Yes."

6 minutes ago, ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ said:

Can I help you? I am a narrator looking for something to do. It sounds like you need help.

"Unfortunately I have no place right now in the current timeline. I would suggest seeking Moni, or maybe Platypus if his anger doesn't get in the way." 

[ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ Male]

1 minute ago, Aeoryi said:

Unfortunately I have no place right now in the current timeline. I would suggest seeking Moni, or maybe Platypus if his anger doesn't get in the way." 

I don’t know who Moni is, but where is he? And where did platypus go to?

[Aeoryi she/her]

Just now, ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ said:

I don’t know who Moni is, but where is he? And where did platypus go to?

"I don't know, and I don't know. But you could try to signal them, if you may."

[ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ Male]

1 minute ago, Aeoryi said:

"I don't know, and I don't know. But you could try to signal them, if you may."

Woe was disappointed. “Nah it is fine. I wouldn’t want to disturb them. Maybe I’ll go visit an old freind. I haven’t seen the Dreamsmith in a while.” Woe disappeared.

[Immortal Platypus]

36 minutes ago, Nameless* said:

"That should be sufficient. You know what they are like, where they live and how to get there, what the culture is?"

The oceans were soon teeming with horrifying monsters that fed off of hunger. "Gods can be limited and yet remain gods. Particularly when there are other gods involved. Or mortals with annoying magical weapons."

"So, I'd be the first person to ever have the opportunity to forge an Authorblade, eh? Sounds intriguing."

Then the first monster ventured on land and began living there. "True, but I would not call us gods. The Authors? They're the gods. We're simply their avatars. Or the Enullers."

Edited September 18, 2023 by Being of Cacophony

[Experience he/him]

59 minutes ago, Nameless* said:

"I'll make it for you. But first, a choice." The Dreamsmith extended a hand towards his forge, and sparks shot from it into his outstretched palm. "I can make two weapons for you. One will become useless after it is used for its intended purpose, but it will do what you want it to do right now." He opened his hand to reveal a miniature sword made from burning fire that glowed for a brief moment with blinding heat, then vanished. "The other will not be as helpful as you want it to be, but it will not burn out so easily."

"I saw two figures. One killed the other, I think. It's difficult to say for sure."

"Ki-killed?" Eldyn stuttered. Oh no. Not again.

"Did you see how it happened?"

[TheRavenHasLanded he/him]

3 hours ago, Nameless* said:

"Yes, I think we'll be alright."

Subversion blinked. "Oh, you're awake. I'm Subversion, a narrator. Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I've got a brand-new conscience, barely even used."

The weapon that the Dreamsmith makes for Falvan will give them hope.

"I see. Such a shield will be very hard to make. Narration is very powerful, and stopping it completely may well be impossible. I cannot make you a shield that will stop narration's effects entirely."

"I was curious. So far as I know, an Author has never before descended into the thread as you have. very rarely do they interfere in plot at all. How is it that your character dragged you down here?"

--

The strain on Omen's face faded somewhat. "I have finished all the tests. It is still difficult to keep so many in the dwelling of the Dreamsmith, but I can manage one more. Abalodor, you may see the Dreamsmith, if you wish."

@TheRavenHasLanded

i was out, ill be responsive in the morning

[NameIess]

1 hour ago, Experience said:

"Ki-killed?" Eldyn stuttered. Oh no. Not again.

"Did you see how it happened?"

"Yes, I think so. If I remember correctly, one of them put their hand on the other's head, then there was a strange light, or maybe a not-light, and then they died."

1 hour ago, Being of Cacophony said:

Then the first monster ventured on land and began living there. "True, but I would not call us gods. The Authors? They're the gods. We're simply their avatars."

It quickly died, slain by a far more dangerous breed of monster that had come from the stars. "Agree to disagree, I suppose."

1 hour ago, Ancient Elantrian said:

The Once Author grinned. “You would be. Bragging rights at their highest.”

"It's tempting but... should I? It might be too powerful." The Dreamsmith hesitates, then smiles mechanically. "If I turn you down now, I'll never get another chance at this again. I'll do it."

1 hour ago, ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ said:

“I will take the latter. I am willing to be patient and accept something that will have more value in the long run.” Falvan said

The Dreamsmith nods. "Very well. Be warned, this will make your battle against Desolation more difficult."

1 hour ago, Aeoryi said:

"Yes."

"Excellent. I'll get to work."

 

In three identical smithies, the Dreamsmith puts his tools down and stands up, turning his full attention to those who have sought him out.

He closes his eyes that he may see them truly.

The Once-Author. He struggles to resist the hatred of a character given far too much power. His soul is weakened and cracked, but glimmers of power still remain.

Cognition, the Inkling. Her soul and motivations are murky, her future undecided, but one thing shines clearly. A desire to protect the Inklings.

Falvan, releaser of Desolation. He buckles under the weight of guilt for actions not his own, and burns with a need to make things right.

The Dreamsmith sees these souls and reaches into them, drawing upon not just his own power but upon their power as well as he begins to forge.

For the Once-Author, the Dreamsmith forges a Blade. 

First he Forms the physical blade, an impossible task. To hold the power of an Author the Blade must have durability beyond that of any other weapon ever made in TLT. Looking at the wall that stands in his way, the Dreamsmith sees the unbreakable substance he needs. Reaching out he takes hold of the impossibility of what he would do and forges it into a blade that is unbreakable.

The Dreamsmith finishes the Blade's form and begins work on the Power of the Blade, the second impossible task. To channel an Author's power, the Blade must be of nothing but him, a disconnection beyond the connection to its owner. For this he draws deeply upon the soul of the Once-Author, seeking out the tiny sparks of remaining energy and forging a bond between them and the Blade. At the same time he draws upon his own soul and wraps the Blade in it, removing everything that would tie it to TLT.

This accomplished, he begins the final impossibility. The Naming of the Blade. To hold its shape against any attack from within or without, the Blade must be defined beyond any defined thing. The Dreamsmith breaths in deeply. It is clear to him that for such a weapon there could be only one name. "I Name you Authorblade, for that is what you are. The Blade of an Author."

For Cognition, the Dreamsmith forges a Shield.

The Form is easy, a round metal shield that shines brightly in the reflected light of his forge.

To give the Shield Power, the Dreamsmith draws forth Cognition's soul and changes it, making use of the Inkling's unique relationship to narration to create a weapon that can reflect the power of Narrators.

The last part of the Shield, its Name, is far more difficult. The Dreamsmith reaches into Cognition's mind, finding memories of her people. He weaves these memories into a pattern, sealing the Inkling's existence upon the shield. "I Name you Memory, for that which you contain."

For Falvan, the Dreamsmith forges the greatest weapon of all.

the weapon's Form, the Dreamsmith cannot imagine. After much considering, the Dreamsmith looks within Falvan, finding inspiration from the twisted mass of guilt he holds within.

The weapon's Power, the Dreamsmith cannot find. Though the Dreamsmith seeks diligently, Falvan holds no strength that befits the greatest of weapons. At last the Dreamsmith spies a dead spark, remnant of a remnant, left behind in a passing Plotblade's wake. This dead spark, the Dreamsmith takes. Without changing anything, he gives it to the weapon.

The weapon's Name, The Dreamsmith cannot give. He stares at it for a long time, then shakes his head. "Another must name you. For now, you remain nameless."

The Dreamsmith opens his eyes to behold his handiwork.

The Authorblade blazes with power. It is a sword beyond any other, real in a way that no other blade can ever be. Looking upon what he had wrought, the Dreamsmith understands how little he could understand of an Author's power, sees the true infinity in physical form.

The Dreamsmith bows his head. "I am sorry, Once-Author. I put too much of myself into this weapon. Once you leave here it will become only half-real. It will still work in part, but it will not allow you to wield the full might of the power you once held. Take it with my regrets, for I have failed."

The Shield of Memory glows dimly as the forge dies down. It is a shield against Narrators, one that will not break so long as Cognition lives.

The Dreamsmith nods. "This Shield will do what you wish it to. It will not stop narration entirely, but so long as you stand it will reverse it, drawing upon your memory to restore any damage done to Inklings by narration. In battle, this shield will reflect narration back onto those who use it. Take it without regret, for it is well-made."

Falvan's nameless weapon sits on the forge lifeless. It is a twisted mass of blackened metal, completely unrecognizable as any sort of weapon.

The Dreamsmith smiles. "This weapon holds no power that you do not. It will not allow you to defeat Desolation, nor will it allow you to undo your past actions. Take it with my utmost thanks, for never have I forged a weapon greater than this."

[Aeoryi she/her]

12 minutes ago, Nameless* said:

"Yes, I think so. If I remember correctly, one of them put their hand on the other's head, then there was a strange light, or maybe a not-light, and then they died."

It quickly died, slain by a far more dangerous breed of monster that had come from the stars. "Agree to disagree, I suppose."

"It's tempting but... should I? It might be too powerful." The Dreamsmith hesitates, then smiles mechanically. "If I turn you down now, I'll never get another chance at this again. I'll do it."

The Dreamsmith nods. "Very well. Be warned, this will make your battle against Desolation more difficult."

"Excellent. I'll get to work."

 

In three identical smithies, the Dreamsmith puts his tools down and stands up, turning his full attention to those who have sought him out.

He closes his eyes that he may see them truly.

The Once-Author. He struggles to resist the hatred of a character given far too much power. His soul is weakened and cracked, but glimmers of power still remain.

Cognition, the Inkling. Her soul and motivations are murky, her future undecided, but one thing shines clearly. A desire to protect the Inklings.

Falvan, releaser of Desolation. He buckles under the weight of guilt for actions not his own, and burns with a need to make things right.

The Dreamsmith sees these souls and reaches into them, drawing upon not just his own power but upon their power as well as he begins to forge.

For the Once-Author, the Dreamsmith forges a Blade. 

First he Forms the physical blade, an impossible task. To hold the power of an Author the Blade must have durability beyond that of any other weapon ever made in TLT. Looking at the wall that stands in his way, the Dreamsmith sees the unbreakable substance he needs. Reaching out he takes hold of the impossibility of what he would do and forges it into a blade that is unbreakable.

The Dreamsmith finishes the Blade's form and begins work on the Power of the Blade, the second impossible task. To channel an Author's power, the Blade must be of nothing but him, a disconnection beyond the connection to its owner. For this he draws deeply upon the soul of the Once-Author, seeking out the tiny sparks of remaining energy and forging a bond between them and the Blade. At the same time he draws upon his own soul and wraps the Blade in it, removing everything that would tie it to TLT.

This accomplished, he begins the final impossibility. The Naming of the Blade. To hold its shape against any attack from within or without, the Blade must be defined beyond any defined thing. The Dreamsmith breaths in deeply. It is clear to him that for such a weapon there could be only one name. "I Name you Authorblade, for that is what you are. The Blade of an Author."

For Cognition, the Dreamsmith forges a Shield.

The Form is easy, a round metal shield that shines brightly in the reflected light of his forge.

To give the Shield Power, the Dreamsmith draws forth Cognition's soul and changes it, making use of the Inkling's unique relationship to narration to create a weapon that can reflect the power of Narrators.

The last part of the Shield, its Name, is far more difficult. The Dreamsmith reaches into Cognition's mind, finding memories of her people. He weaves these memories into a pattern, sealing the Inkling's existence upon the shield. "I Name you Memory, for that which you contain."

For Falvan, the Dreamsmith forges the greatest weapon of all.

the weapon's Form, the Dreamsmith cannot imagine. After much considering, the Dreamsmith looks within Falvan, finding inspiration from the twisted mass of guilt he holds within.

The weapon's Power, the Dreamsmith cannot find. Though the Dreamsmith seeks diligently, Falvan holds no strength that befits the greatest of weapons. At last the Dreamsmith spies a dead spark, remnant of a remnant, left behind in a passing Plotblade's wake. This dead spark, the Dreamsmith takes. Without changing anything, he gives it to the weapon.

The weapon's Name, The Dreamsmith cannot give. He stares at it for a long time, then shakes his head. "Another must name you. For now, you remain nameless."

The Dreamsmith opens his eyes to behold his handiwork.

The Authorblade blazes with power. It is a sword beyond any other, real in a way that no other blade can ever be. Looking upon what he had wrought, the Dreamsmith understands how little he could understand of an Author's power, sees the true infinity in physical form.

The Dreamsmith bows his head. "I am sorry, Once-Author. I put too much of myself into this weapon. Once you leave here it will become only half-real. It will still work in part, but it will not allow you to wield the full might of the power you once held. Take it with my regrets, for I have failed."

The Shield of Memory glows dimly as the forge dies down. It is a shield against Narrators, one that will not break so long as Cognition lives.

The Dreamsmith nods. "This Shield will do what you wish it to. It will not stop narration entirely, but so long as you stand it will reverse it, drawing upon your memory to restore any damage done to Inklings by narration. In battle, this shield will reflect narration back onto those who use it. Take it without regret, for it is well-made."

Falvan's nameless weapon sits on the forge lifeless. It is a twisted mass of blackened metal, completely unrecognizable as any sort of weapon.

The Dreamsmith smiles. "This weapon holds no power that you do not. It will not allow you to defeat Desolation, nor will it allow you to undo your past actions. Take it with my utmost thanks, for never have I forged a weapon greater than this."

Cognition took the shield with much gratitude. "And to you I give my thanks."

Turning to Falvan, she said to him, "I can tell you are Disappointed. But yet it is his greatest thing made yet. I think eventually, you will see why."

Cognition pulled out the golden box, then pointed. "Desolation is that way."

She paused, then said, "Signal to Platypus. It's time we killed desolation."

That is by far one of my favorite posts. I love it

Edited September 18, 2023 by Aeoryi

[ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ Male]

19 minutes ago, Nameless* said:

"Yes, I think so. If I remember correctly, one of them put their hand on the other's head, then there was a strange light, or maybe a not-light, and then they died."

It quickly died, slain by a far more dangerous breed of monster that had come from the stars. "Agree to disagree, I suppose."

"It's tempting but... should I? It might be too powerful." The Dreamsmith hesitates, then smiles mechanically. "If I turn you down now, I'll never get another chance at this again. I'll do it."

The Dreamsmith nods. "Very well. Be warned, this will make your battle against Desolation more difficult."

"Excellent. I'll get to work."

 

In three identical smithies, the Dreamsmith puts his tools down and stands up, turning his full attention to those who have sought him out.

He closes his eyes that he may see them truly.

The Once-Author. He struggles to resist the hatred of a character given far too much power. His soul is weakened and cracked, but glimmers of power still remain.

Cognition, the Inkling. Her soul and motivations are murky, her future undecided, but one thing shines clearly. A desire to protect the Inklings.

Falvan, releaser of Desolation. He buckles under the weight of guilt for actions not his own, and burns with a need to make things right.

The Dreamsmith sees these souls and reaches into them, drawing upon not just his own power but upon their power as well as he begins to forge.

For the Once-Author, the Dreamsmith forges a Blade. 

First he Forms the physical blade, an impossible task. To hold the power of an Author the Blade must have durability beyond that of any other weapon ever made in TLT. Looking at the wall that stands in his way, the Dreamsmith sees the unbreakable substance he needs. Reaching out he takes hold of the impossibility of what he would do and forges it into a blade that is unbreakable.

The Dreamsmith finishes the Blade's form and begins work on the Power of the Blade, the second impossible task. To channel an Author's power, the Blade must be of nothing but him, a disconnection beyond the connection to its owner. For this he draws deeply upon the soul of the Once-Author, seeking out the tiny sparks of remaining energy and forging a bond between them and the Blade. At the same time he draws upon his own soul and wraps the Blade in it, removing everything that would tie it to TLT.

This accomplished, he begins the final impossibility. The Naming of the Blade. To hold its shape against any attack from within or without, the Blade must be defined beyond any defined thing. The Dreamsmith breaths in deeply. It is clear to him that for such a weapon there could be only one name. "I Name you Authorblade, for that is what you are. The Blade of an Author."

For Cognition, the Dreamsmith forges a Shield.

The Form is easy, a round metal shield that shines brightly in the reflected light of his forge.

To give the Shield Power, the Dreamsmith draws forth Cognition's soul and changes it, making use of the Inkling's unique relationship to narration to create a weapon that can reflect the power of Narrators.

The last part of the Shield, its Name, is far more difficult. The Dreamsmith reaches into Cognition's mind, finding memories of her people. He weaves these memories into a pattern, sealing the Inkling's existence upon the shield. "I Name you Memory, for that which you contain."

For Falvan, the Dreamsmith forges the greatest weapon of all.

the weapon's Form, the Dreamsmith cannot imagine. After much considering, the Dreamsmith looks within Falvan, finding inspiration from the twisted mass of guilt he holds within.

The weapon's Power, the Dreamsmith cannot find. Though the Dreamsmith seeks diligently, Falvan holds no strength that befits the greatest of weapons. At last the Dreamsmith spies a dead spark, remnant of a remnant, left behind in a passing Plotblade's wake. This dead spark, the Dreamsmith takes. Without changing anything, he gives it to the weapon.

The weapon's Name, The Dreamsmith cannot give. He stares at it for a long time, then shakes his head. "Another must name you. For now, you remain nameless."

The Dreamsmith opens his eyes to behold his handiwork.

The Authorblade blazes with power. It is a sword beyond any other, real in a way that no other blade can ever be. Looking upon what he had wrought, the Dreamsmith understands how little he could understand of an Author's power, sees the true infinity in physical form.

The Dreamsmith bows his head. "I am sorry, Once-Author. I put too much of myself into this weapon. Once you leave here it will become only half-real. It will still work in part, but it will not allow you to wield the full might of the power you once held. Take it with my regrets, for I have failed."

The Shield of Memory glows dimly as the forge dies down. It is a shield against Narrators, one that will not break so long as Cognition lives.

The Dreamsmith nods. "This Shield will do what you wish it to. It will not stop narration entirely, but so long as you stand it will reverse it, drawing upon your memory to restore any damage done to Inklings by narration. In battle, this shield will reflect narration back onto those who use it. Take it without regret, for it is well-made."

Falvan's nameless weapon sits on the forge lifeless. It is a twisted mass of blackened metal, completely unrecognizable as any sort of weapon.

The Dreamsmith smiles. "This weapon holds no power that you do not. It will not allow you to defeat Desolation, nor will it allow you to undo your past actions. Take it with my utmost thanks, for never have I forged a weapon greater than this."

Falvan took hold of the jumbled weapon. He immediately felt the grip change to his fingers. Immediately his soul connected with the balde. It happened in an instant and in an instant it was gone. He stood facing the Dreamsmith with his nameless weapon in hand. And it felt like a normal weapon. And it felt right. “You have my greatest respect Dreamartist. You are indeed powerful. But only half as powerful as you are wise. I will always remember you.” With that he walked back into the darkness.

Very very well done @Nameless*

 

Woe arrived at the Dreamsmith cave. “What is this? The way to the Dreamsmith blocked?” He asked to those who were waiting outside.

Edited September 18, 2023 by ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ

[Aeoryi she/her]

1 minute ago, ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ said:

Falvan took hold of the jumbled weapon. He immediately felt the grip change to his fingers. Immediately his soul connected with the balde. It happened in an instabt and in an instant it was gone. He stood facing the Dreamsmith with his nameless weapon in hand. And it felt like a normal sword. And it felt right. “You have my greatest respect Dreamartist. You are indeed powerful. But only half as powerful as you are wise. I will always remember you.” With that he walked back into the darkness.

Very very well done @Nameless*

 

Woe arrived at the Dreamsmith cave. “What is this? The way to the Dreamsmith blocked?” He asked to those who were waiting outside.

Desolation was also outside. "It is. In fact, I would suggest waiting. You're new around here, aren't you?"

Cognition followed Falvan out.

[ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ Male]

Is the goo that is blocking everyone out blocking us in?

Woe looked at Desolation. “Hello I am Woe. It is nice to meet you. What is your name?”

[Experience he/him]

19 minutes ago, Nameless* said:

Yes, I think so. If I remember correctly, one of them put their hand on the other's head, then there was a strange light, or maybe a not-light, and then they died."

"Shades. Shades shades shades."

Eldyn rushed back to the center of the room, not paying heed to the person in front of him. He picked up a match and lit the candle.

His shaky hand struggled to move it over the ground, searching, searchin- there.

Imprinted into the stone ground was a shadow in the shape of a human. A human Eldyn begin to remember.

"Shades."