The Chronicles of a Rock God

Details and a record of the characters exploits, successes and failures within the Parallel Worlds.

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The Chronicles of a Rock God

Post by arcanus » Fri Jun 01, 2012 2:03 pm

Murcia, Spain - April 1945
Raz shook the muggyness from his head, swallowing hard.
Annett was stable but unconcious, Raz knew the reasons, the lesser races bodies struggled with magic.
It could change with training and exposure.

She'd been healed twice through Song in a day, the second occasion by the touch of a goddess no less, the shock to her system was something she'd need to sleep off.

He turned eyeing the shadows cautiously, they seemed to be lengthening.
He wasn't sure what she had meant, but a sense of dread ran through him, of something approaching.

He felt pins and needles across his body, Annetts body shuddered beneath his palm, opening his eyes he saw nothing but bright light.

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The Chronicles of a Rock God

Post by arcanus » Fri Mar 29, 2013 1:05 pm

Telesial – 1517
Divergence Point: Pangaea forms into different landmasses and the Worldline is a High Mana zone.
Mythical races are common, with the Elven race being the most developed and powerful society on the Planet.
I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew:
Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in the branches blew.
Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon, the foam was on the Sea,
And by the strand of Ilmarin there grew a golden Tree.
Beneath the stars of Ever-eve in Eldamar it shone,
In Eldamar beside the walls of Elven Tirion.
There long the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years,
While here beyond the Sundering Seas now fall the Elven-tears.
O Lorien! The Winter comes, the bare and leafless Day;
The leaves are falling in the stream, the River flows away.
O Lorien! Too long I have dwelt upon this Hither Shore
And in a fading crown have twined the golden elanor.
But if of ships I now should sing, what ship would come to me,
What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a Sea?
Galadriel, the Lady of the Woods – JRR Tolkien

Born of wrath and ages deep, raised in angst from thy mournful keep
Skin of cracked stone and steaming broth, rage of the earth rising high
And so you come

Called from slumber, your purpose murder
Bound by ritual your wrath contained, hatred seething beneath
And so you come

Eyes of wind, heart of stone, breath of mist and talons of fire
Ancient lore your mind to plumb, witch binding serving to make you numb
And so you have come
The Úmanwë - Telesian Rhyme

Above the tree line the night sky was a deep indigo, accented by the tiny pinpricks of distant stars, the days passage of forest birds replaced by the hunt of woodland bats.
A content silence had settled over the forest town of Tundalin, the centre of the town opened into a large market place, surrounded by functional buildings, each of these buildings resembled a dome or woven roots and branches, clad in thick leaves and calcified wood.

The largest of these domes concealed a large hall created by the building descending into the earth, the inner decoration of this hall was hewn from thick milky white crystal.
Each panel crafted with sombre faces and harsh swirly script, the beauty of the chamber muted by its mood, each of the robed figures present murmuring a drone like chant.

The halls floor was made of great stone slabs radiated from a central glyph, each marked by a rune of its own, markings that sparkled with power, Eluinur Súniémar stood in the middle of the hall accompanied by thirty of his warriors.
Each elf was naked apart from being smeared in thick swamp green mud, from between the flooring slabs crept thin root vines, which had started to entwine the assembled warriors.

The assembled faced a huge chunk of blue crystal emanating with pale light, light which was amplified by six curved fangs of rock bracing the curvature of the walls.
The chant grew deeper and deeper, the surface of the fangs stirring birthing unpleasant shapes, the assembled grew motionless, dark faces rippling slowly through the stone, hungrily like sharks.

The air filled with static, the shapes grew restless, primal forces disgruntled with being awakened, each warrior tightly clasped a round stone, inscribed upon which were images of weapons and armour.
The faces grew still, the chanting now a deep dark grumble filling all present with the feeling of deep caves and bottomless hidden pools, filling all assembled with the sense of inescapable places and how small they were.

Each face hissed, the fangs shuddering and then they roared, a wave of water vapour tore into the assembled lashing them with the fury of an ocean storm, it cut their faces and bodies, stealing away thin filaments of blood.
The great blue crystal pulsed and then erupted in white light, light which flooded out across the floor and enveloped the assembled, each warrior held their breath as their minds flooded into the light and into the void.

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