What amuses us and other ideas
I spent long minutes gazing at the walls of the fortress. Not a soul stirred which wasn’t a bird or some winged lizard nesting among the rooftops. No archers patrolling nor campfires burning. Rarely a good sign in my experience. Bandits are all too ready to make use of unoccupied spaces. If it isn’t the Thieves guild hiding in the basements and unused sewers in most cities then it’s more nefarious type lurking in ruins where patrols are hesitant to roam.
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..but then, when does a gateway, it’s chains anchored into the earth below, ever bode well?
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It was only moment of clarity, but clarity none the less. From the East Gate of Divinity’s Reach the desolation was clear. Magic, unbound and chaotic, streamed through the sky. Memory landed within my mind with all the clarity of a dolyak fallen from the sky.
This was the handiwork of power mad and despotic fools.
Leave a CommentI pulled at that thread a little too hard. Memory coalesced into thought, thought disseminated into action. A shimmer of light gathered around me and I fell downward into a vastness I could not describe. I landed in front of Amnoon.
This was where it all began. I just had to find more answers.
Leave a CommentI had a gnawing feeling as I crawled onto the beach of Istan. The haunting recollection that I had done this before. The closer I got the stronger the feeling until I was staring at the edifice of my perplexity.
I was hopeful they had answers but my knew better. I had harbored this feeling that my confusion was self-inflicted. Chronomancy is not without it’s hazards, after all.
Leave a CommentDesolation lead me deep into a broken realm. On one side, there lay a fertile valley and fallow fields, living and the dead vied for a token of stability. Servants of one master, cursed into an unending toil while the living sheltered under those too brave to flee for safer environs.
On the other side, a wasteland of toxic rivers polluted with the waste of armies who’s ceaseless conflict had wrought nothing but danger.. or so I was told.
And yet, in the distance an impossible sight. Through the haze a phantom of impossibility over a hazy sea of death. I was called here, though I could not say why or how.
Leave a CommentBordered in The Mists, a mythical realm where many things crawl out and seed themselves into the world.
I, Vestolo, have crossed that boundary many times. I have seen many places and I can name none of them save Tyria. I crawled out of the Mists in some strange locale so bizarre I was sure I had not escaped.
It was only the familiar feelings of solid ground, air that was both dry and refreshing. The weight of my staff assured me that I was in a place of normalcy again though I feared that time would tell another story.
I found my way to a nearby city, more of a village compared to some places I had seen, but something about it sang a true song in my mind. People there nodded as though they knew me, my passing was but another occurrence of normal things. I decided I could use a drink, food and maybe have a few questions answered.
I must look like the helpful sort. What that ghosts, clueless wizards and inanimate objects all ask me for help. Is it the scowl? It must be my scowl, I should work on that.
Something he said about Rilis the Twelfth scratched at the back of my mind. Like a forgotten recipe for muffins or where I left my staff. Lurking just out of reach..
Comments closedI woke up with cool salt air in my lungs and sand under my face. I might have thought it a dream if Wendel’s hot fetid breath didn’t sweep through the moment like a wild horse.
I was in Summerset, though I couldn’t remember why. I seemed to have all my things: Pants? check. Tunic? check. Staff? check. Daedric servant of a mysterious lord who’s presence I cannot elude? check.
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..more ruins. Always more ruins. It’s like the Second Age contributed only stone left to eventually crumble. I was certain there was more to this story, I just needed the proof. But that’s what all scholars yearn for. Validation.
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