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Walk Among The Abyss

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Walk Among The Abyss last won the day on September 8 2020

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About Walk Among The Abyss

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    Acolyte

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    A Dream Within A Dream
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    Stalking your profile while you're stalking mine...I see you lurking.

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  1. I'm on board to see this transferred over in some fashion.
  2. His judging eyes casted curses at the mutton-chops man and then at the darker skinned boy. Calm down. No ones out for you. You barely exist in this world and not a single person knows you. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply to calm his rattling mind. It was no one’s fault. Stop being petty. As the young lad re-emerged from the back, the hardened stare Keldorl was giving melted away like snow on a warm winter afternoon. It had been some time since he had been in a city around folks. Manners! Remember how people act in society. Some days he felt more savage than human. Where a smile should have been, Keldorl only managed a quick grin with the cigar tucked in his lips and a “Hmm” as he swirled the whisky. “No, I’m fine with this. I appreciate the gesture though.” One of those days? The room was currently quiet. A spark of curiosity entered about what he was talking about, but it dissipated like fog. “No. I believe I get left alone on the roads mostly. Few interacted with me aside from the occasional moving merchant trying to sell odds and ends.” The stew began to slosh as he moved the carrots and chunks of meat from side to side, giving everything a once over. “Is this place normally this empty this time of day?”
  3. My words are just another in the crowd of other's but, reality is that in life, changes happen without our wanting. I've been around enough RPing starting with AOL and Yahoo, moved on to forums and The Red Wings, and bounced in and out of Valucre. Change happened to every example I gave so this is not entirely unexpected. Each evolution is a means to create bigger and better things. For those who see these as a negative, the perspective is on you. The glass is as full or empty as you make it, For those who are upset, take it as a blank canvas. As @ticklefarte (which please don't change that name) stated, there is plenty of time to finish and move on. If you love to write and create, who gives a shit if it's on Valucre's website or a new URL, or in the bathroom stall. Those who created this place want to create another. Either join other creators or fade into the darkness. No point in crying over something that can't be controlled. I'll be on the other side when this is said and done - Once I figure how to navigate the damn thing >_>
  4. A small smoke cloud rose to the ceiling as Keldorl lit the dry cigar. At least these stayed dry. The probability that he would have murdered himself had his cigars been wet was there. Cigars wouldn’t let him down. "You want a drink? We got the standards, nothing fancy, but it'll buff out the dents if it's been that kinda day," “Please.” His voice growled even when giving pleasantries. “All the traveling shops have are watered down ale. I’d prefer a spirit, straight if possible.” The man was not a drinker unlike his former companions Yate and Machin – he was unsure any would or could outdrink those two – but a drink was a drink. "We got food too, stew, pork, or meatballs. Oh, wait, what's it -- Thursday? No pork, just stew or meatballs." Trying not to stare at the man in his mutton chops, he couldn’t help but wonder what made Thursday any different than another day for pork. “The last meal I had was stew. I think this meal will also be stew if you don’t mind.” Sniffing the air, wondering if the stew was burnt or it was the building. The quietness of the room was a soft, cool pillow to his ears. The rambunctious taverns and inns had their place but today, of all days, quietness was a reprieve from his insanity of following the green arrow to his next destination. Here, he could unwind and decompress.
  5. The rain trickled down from the clouds, small droplets plopped on the color-changing cloak until scuttling their way into the fabric. The cloak’s magical shifting pattern did not prevent it from being waterproof, only water resistant but the rain had started to win the battle. The dreary undertones of the weather contrasted the mood of the drifter in the street. As the days grew into the nights, the man’s moods stabilized. After the crashing realization that he had be duped, he had no reason to stay in his foul mood. The cynical mind wanted to mark another notch on the frame to show the numerous reasons why he had trust issues, but a part of him no longer cared to keep track. She had her reasons. As you have yours. The time he had spent walking through terrain, mountains to forest, wilderness into cities, his boots had been replaced several times over. His destination was not far off – so said the generic map a goods seller he met on the backroads of the realm. The rain had prevented him from admiring the green landscape that was constantly mentioned to him on the road. With a sigh – hoping he would have some fortune – he trudged onward. The Capital City of Versilla was larger than he anticipated. The fact that south west of here was the very city that had created this cat and mouse chase – she was far from a mouse, and he was no cat – the thought gave him boiling anger but he quelled it as quickly is it tried to rise. You are no tool. What had led him to this city he couldn’t say. His ranger capabilities were shelved, and he resorted to throwing knives on a globe. Nothing from the period he had spent with her gave rise to her being here. And yet, here he was, soaked down to the ligaments that held his bones together. Intuition led him here. The wind had pulsated his movement to this city. Inside the Rambling Sage, his eyes swiftly acclimated to the dark purples and blacks. Candlelight scattered shadows on the walls. Nighttime had occupied the interior. No one bothered to look his way. The perfect place where people kept to themselves. The spacious bar gave the appearance of inhabitants social distancing as if each table was their own islands away from the rest. All of this was fine. His sour mood had evaporated miles ago, but he wasn’t sure how great of a conversationalist he would be given the weary feeling of travel. The leathery bar chair was met with a soaked hind quarter. “Excuse me.” The gravel in his voice called out. “Is smoking allowed?” An unearthly sound came from his bag touching the floor. @Noko
  6. One thing was certain, Machin wouldn’t have said yes to helping a random person out knowing he’d be fighting cave entity. He sighed outside, his back against the rocky surface. “Well. You people didn’t do a great job at explaining what it was I enlisted for.” Breathing a bit heavier from his near sprint as he saw the others vacate. “Next time you should warn a person that there’s a cave that tries to suck you into it!” As he counted his missing knives – they were decent blades – he also noted he had no holes in his body. Outside the fresh air was a blessing to his lungs. Behind him was a demon. Or an elf-demon. Whatever it was, he thought, was inside that cave and he was outside.
  7. Somewhere in Nehalen – The 10th Night His mind wandered staring into the rotting wood above his bed. No sign of the woman anywhere. The rubble that was left behind was wood and rock. No body. No signs of running away on foot. No signs of her at all. Expect one piece of fabric. His focus on the creature had kept him from noticing her energy. So, the question was, was she still alive? His cursed arm stroked a fragile wood figurine of a dancer. This hand had lost the sensation of touch. It had, in a way, ceased to live anymore. As if chiseled in stone, the arm up to his shoulder bore engravings of a spell gone madly wrong. In a spurt of anger, the wooden dancer splintered to the floor. His moods were getting worse as of late. Too many steps alone gave his brain too much to consider. If she’s alive, I may strangle her. Anger from failing a mission, anger from the possibility of being deceived, and a pool of rage from being left alone to handle that beast. The bed creaked as if its finally breath was nearing. As he laid, he couldn’t help but feel lost. Inside his pack was an insignia that had started his journey, but he still was unsure where to follow the breadcrumbs. The only thing he had to go off was that badge. After the bedlam had settled, that was the only item that gave knowledge she had existed. Beneath the rubble, covered by the particles of dirt, that badge was all that was left of Evie. No, that wasn’t entirely true. The next few days in La Cierra gave him ample time to reminisce about her. Her idle chatter of her family had led him to the floating islands. Her outbursts on the rooftop had given him something to work with. The heat of Nehelan had been mentioned. It had taken luck, lots of it, and asking the right people who were cultured enough outside of Genesaris to point him in the direction. His first time on this continent was starting to leave a foul taste in his mouth. Windmills, farmland, provoked outbursts and an enormous amount of miles had led him here. And yet, the Fountaine name could be found nowhere. The 11th Night “What do you mean you’ve not heard of this woman? Or even family?” Acrimoniously his hands balled into boulders. “No, no. It is not you I’m angry at. Thank you for your time.” Outside of the small inn near the Marzanna Ridge, Keldorl leaned his back against the building in frustration. Tapping the hilt of his sword, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “She did a hell of a job covering her tracks didn’t she?” Each step he took moved him either further or closer to his list of questions. The moon overhead illuminated the streets as he strolled to the sounds of citizens going about their business. The breadcrumbs had washed away in a flood, a tidal wave of misfortune and loss of luck. No one knew her name. No one knew her parents. No one knew anything about her. Inn keepers were questioned. Bars had been visited. He found Nehelan. He found the location of windmills and makers. He had followed every link in the chain, but it rusted away. Releasing a puff of air from his cigar into the streets, he continued tapping the hilt of the relic on his hip. You can’t be mad. She played you. Your honor is only yours. Not others. The truth was such. That same person who suggested burning La Cierra to the ground. The same woman who said she hated surprises. The same person who nonchalantly discussed their outlooks on the world. The woman who despised slavers, wanted to be a pirate, and laughed at murder jokes was a ghost. One thing was certain – Evie Lafontaine did not exist.
  8. The beast raged. The path of destruction was before the man’s eyes. Incensed eyes glimpsed what was not there as his brain tried to comprehend. Where had she gone? The winds soared through the hills of La Ceirra and through the valley of buildings that once stood at the center of the prosperous city. Inconspicuous flowers greeted travelers now, kissing them and making the land their new home. As the winds picked up from La Cierra, they left behind the barren and forlorn city as they sailed to distant lands. A forgotten knight stood before the creature, displeasure filled his cavity, mayhem controlled his mind. ~Ending~
  9. Seconds counted. He wanted nothing to harm her. He promised he would protect those who came with him on this expedition. As the sound of the wings grew heavier, the moments passed like years. The roof caved in… Heaps of earth shattered the wood planks, splintering the floor in every way. As the roof caved in from the force of the creature, the earth domed around the woman solidifying into a shield. For a few moments, darkness would take over as the light stopped penetrating the mass of earth. The second act began as a pillar of earth rocketed from somewhere crashing into the majestic creature. The void had taken over his mind. Wartime called for the knight. The interior was bland. Boring. Little value to him as his eyes were ill-informed of keys and locks. Why need keys when you can force your way in. Pushing aside metallic keys and forms. Unorganized litter scattered the shop. “How would anyone find anything here?” He kept within sight of Evie as she foraged. It wasn’t the sound that initiated his response. His sprite sought comfort behind his silver-white hair. Then the sound of wings splintered the air. The sound grew louder until it was overhead. The heavy drumbeat of the wings went silent. The dome of earth fragmented around Evie as the building toppled around them. Dust and debris thickened the air producing a cloud on interference.
  10. Chaos. Destruction. Sorrow. It was a shadow planted on him. “Hm. Maybe. The forest seems, unstable.” That was the best he could describe what the sprite had showed him. Trees and plants couldn’t emulate the same emotions higher beings could. “Manticore or not, our slavers are gone so let us count that as a blessing.” "You're a chaotic man, you know that? I leave you for two minutes and your mood just goes to shit-- is this your way of saying you want to spend more time together?" she teased, "I mean, it's fine with me-- but one day you're going to need to explain what the world did to make you so upset and why you haven't balanced your scales and been done with it. Was he? Why did he like that? Some corner of his soul enjoyed that, almost as if a compliment, but why? “I’m sure one day we can have tea and some cookies over a nice fire in a quaint cottage and each can discuss how the world has fucked us.” There it was, a child-like smirk, bursting with sarcasm but no mockery. Fifteen minutes had passed since they left behind the deteriorating outskirts of the city. Each block brought old stores, bakeries, and nicer establishments. It also brought more flowers. “I can see that people didn’t make it so far.” His light steps crushed flowers beneath his sole. Pollen sprang upward looking for a new host. Without their information, he would never have thought to bring masks. He remained silent for the trip. His mind cemented elsewhere. The adventurer inside wanted to explore the buildings. Time wouldn’t allow it. As their shadows began to dance from the sun moving across the horizon, the sprite soared high as a beacon to indicate the first building. A wooden sign hung above the door, a large key engraved into the rotting oak bore the building as their X. The door eerily squeaked open as Keldorl lightly pressed his staff against it. “Ladies first. Don’t ever say I wasn’t chivalrous.” The mask hid his smile.
  11. The feeling was, Shocking. The pressure was immense, sand piling from on top as well as the sides, building a catacomb from which no mortal could unearth. As his body was released, he smiled and gave a chuckle. “I had no intention of spying but…” He turned away from her body, “I also wasn’t expecting a naked body to be sunbathing either.” “No matter. It’s not the first time I’ve seen the skin of another but, I promise I will avoid remembering this moment,” another slight chuckle as his exterior shell broke away to the younger soul. As soon as the sound of her clothes ceased, he turned back around. “I only meant to get some scouting done this evening before the moon wakes.” The sounds of his neck cracked as he moved it side to side and straightened up from the pressure that had wrapped around his body. “My, your magic grips like a giant’s hand. Once this is done with, we should have ourselves a bout!” Blazing eyes lighted up his face. “I love a formidable rival and nothings better than a spar with…” As the blaze died down, his voice dropped back to the grizzled person Evie had met, “Ah, never mind. Yes, about the trees.” “Since I’m unaware of who this person is or looks like, I do not have a clear imagine to present to them. My little sprite said she has found a few buildings North of here that look promising.” There was little to imagine where a locksmith would be but a warehouse or a smithy would fit the description. “The place she showed me has the looks of a person who dabbles in that sort of field.” “But, the area is scattered with those flowers so masks will be essential. Once you’re prepared, I’d like to journey out and follow the sprites.” With a spring in his step, he moved toward the interior. “Once ready, meet me out front in the street.” Once his spear and a small satchel was grabbed, Keldorl waited outside in the street with mask hanging on his hip, the color-shifting cloak mirroring the buildings around him as his body blended in. Warily he smelled the air. Yes, all things were quiet but, the trees were rustling. An odd presence had made its way into the outlining forest again. Without talking to Banyan, the tree spirit, there was little else he could do for information. The man was no sage. Only through Banyan could he communicate with the lesser spirits. Something Evie didn’t need to know. Only the sprites could pass information to him. Better she thinks he can control the lesser spirits. And even then, Banyan was the only tree spirit who allowed Keldorl to summon him. The other forest spirits thought ill of the man. His existence was toxic to them. The atrocities he had committed with their help would forever haunt him. He growled and spat into the dirt. Damn Gods and Goddesses. Damn those spirits and their black and white morals.
  12. It is @ThatWeirdBlobThing then you @Rabbit. I would suggest that another day or so, if you have a post, go ahead and skip ole Blob. You never want a thread to just die by waiting on one person! I have been in both situations. Being the one person and waiting.
  13. Everyone doing good? We are ready for the next poster. In the case the next poster doesn't respond, they can be skipped. A lot of people use a 3-4 day period then continue.
  14. Might not be called Five Night's but I'm still going to watch it.
  15. Other than a Role Playing platform, this forum is a nice assortment of random sites from individuals. I was able to read about a Shitbowl, learn about a new book series, and listen to some music I wouldn't have found otherwise. Keep up the work peeps!
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