- Joined
- Jan 5, 2011
- Messages
- 2,151
- Reputation score
- 310
(For a certain trap character)
Beyond the eternal battlefield and the great forest laid peaceful plains. Once one wandered far enough past the last line of trees that marked the end of the woods, they would find themselves on an infinitely stretching grassland. A blue cloudless, sunless sky ruled over flat land with no landmarks on the horizons or discerning features beyond the ankle-high grass that grew upon it. It seemed to go on forever, its infinite and uniform nature showing no sign of disturbance by mortals or immortals. Some might've even considered it a glimpse of the true afterlife... or perhaps purgatory
For the realm of a daemonic goddess of war, it was unnaturally isolated and quiet. Few explored the plains, and fewer still battled, both for fear that they might become lost forever unless they were willing to risk turning their swords on themselves. The only ones who willingly came to the odd location were those who wished to be alone with their own thoughts in peace and quiet away from the noise of the feast hall or the constant warring outside.... Or at least that was the case until Anthea found the plains.
"3... 2... 1... Ignition!"
A massive explosion shook the plains, launching dirt dozens of feet into the sky only for it to rain upon the surrounding land. The only thing untouched was the witch who'd caused the apparent natural disaster, hiding behind and underneath a protective steel blast shield of her own design which now had several inches of loose dirt piled atop it. Even though the blast wouldn't have killed her permanently in this place, she still knew the importance of taking the proper precautions. After all, if she didn't take the proper precautions she might end up back at the feast hall and be unable to find where she'd started digging or, even worse, end up with damaged equipment unable to run any proper analyses.
She waited until she was sure the debris had stopped raining to take a peek at her own handiwork, and found herself pleased at what she saw. Anthea's magic-infused powder had done its work well, blasting more than ten feet of dirt and stone out of the way and revealing many layers of the earth that made up the daemonic realm beneath the surface of the previously untouched plains. All she'd needed to do was dig a long, narrow hole and pack it full of the explosive stuff and when she lit the powder it became a much larger hole. A resounding success by any standard, as far as she was concerned.
She'd surely repeat the process many more times in order to go as deep and as quickly as she could, but for the time being she pulled her backpack on, straightened her witch hat, grabbed her broom, and made toward the crater she'd created. The Crolian witch needed to be thorough in examining every layer and taking samples. She would tear the land to pieces if necessary in order to find out what made it all tick, but gaining some actual understanding was the important part. Anthea's work when it came to the daemonic realm might change the face of witchcraft forever if done properly, after all, and first witches have mercy on anyone who ruined her concentration or otherwise hindered her quest.
Beyond the eternal battlefield and the great forest laid peaceful plains. Once one wandered far enough past the last line of trees that marked the end of the woods, they would find themselves on an infinitely stretching grassland. A blue cloudless, sunless sky ruled over flat land with no landmarks on the horizons or discerning features beyond the ankle-high grass that grew upon it. It seemed to go on forever, its infinite and uniform nature showing no sign of disturbance by mortals or immortals. Some might've even considered it a glimpse of the true afterlife... or perhaps purgatory
For the realm of a daemonic goddess of war, it was unnaturally isolated and quiet. Few explored the plains, and fewer still battled, both for fear that they might become lost forever unless they were willing to risk turning their swords on themselves. The only ones who willingly came to the odd location were those who wished to be alone with their own thoughts in peace and quiet away from the noise of the feast hall or the constant warring outside.... Or at least that was the case until Anthea found the plains.
"3... 2... 1... Ignition!"
A massive explosion shook the plains, launching dirt dozens of feet into the sky only for it to rain upon the surrounding land. The only thing untouched was the witch who'd caused the apparent natural disaster, hiding behind and underneath a protective steel blast shield of her own design which now had several inches of loose dirt piled atop it. Even though the blast wouldn't have killed her permanently in this place, she still knew the importance of taking the proper precautions. After all, if she didn't take the proper precautions she might end up back at the feast hall and be unable to find where she'd started digging or, even worse, end up with damaged equipment unable to run any proper analyses.
She waited until she was sure the debris had stopped raining to take a peek at her own handiwork, and found herself pleased at what she saw. Anthea's magic-infused powder had done its work well, blasting more than ten feet of dirt and stone out of the way and revealing many layers of the earth that made up the daemonic realm beneath the surface of the previously untouched plains. All she'd needed to do was dig a long, narrow hole and pack it full of the explosive stuff and when she lit the powder it became a much larger hole. A resounding success by any standard, as far as she was concerned.
She'd surely repeat the process many more times in order to go as deep and as quickly as she could, but for the time being she pulled her backpack on, straightened her witch hat, grabbed her broom, and made toward the crater she'd created. The Crolian witch needed to be thorough in examining every layer and taking samples. She would tear the land to pieces if necessary in order to find out what made it all tick, but gaining some actual understanding was the important part. Anthea's work when it came to the daemonic realm might change the face of witchcraft forever if done properly, after all, and first witches have mercy on anyone who ruined her concentration or otherwise hindered her quest.