Re: (Open to New Players) Dungeons and Depravity: Revenge of the Unchained
Scanning the area... There were seldom creatures picked up by the spell. It seemed mostly normal people were not detected by the spell, but a few civilians coming and going appeared seldom with a yellow glow, but perhaps twice as much did she see a gas-like glow of dark violet. To compare, Cystie was glowing such a dark violet color.
With the safety of the vision at hand, they saw no more of the straggler. Talia's exciting new powers spent time well as she tried them out, as they were before the Hall of Fallen Heroes before they knew it. It was down a singular alley behind the shops and businesses in the area. It led to a singular pair of double doors that were locked with chain and bar, as if to ensure no one could get inside.
Time: 8:30AM
However, as the girls neared, their chains lit up on their arms, and the chains from the door took a holy golden glow, suddenly flowing like snakes through the air, joining to each heroine present. The magic felt benevolent and pure, comforting them as the magical chains formed with their tattoos. It seemed to change them, altering their figure 8 chains to suddenly have a pair of ends that seemed to be connected to nothing. Chains with no link.
The door was open, the heavy barricade gone just by their approach alone, as if opening its doors to the only ones who were welcome. "
Cool." Cystie said flatly.
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If they chose to walk inside... It felt like entering a different world. The rules and dimensions of the world outside were impossible to fit what lie within the doors. The walls above, seemingly made of smooth square marble plates of sand colored texture, stretched high over head, not even a five story building would tower over this building. The windows each presented pure soft light pouring in through the windows, the easy to look at light impossible to be cast by the sun in all it's fiery rage. The floor and pillars were solid white, and felt like soft stone beneath their feet. Almost comfortable enough to lay on with a bedroll. Between each pillar, on both left and right sides, were painted windows depicting glorious designs of seemingly heroic figures, beholding powers that the heroines felt were somehow similar to their own. At the bottom of the paintings, were a dark scene, depicting the same heroine above, only now instead of glory, she was meeting her end.
The painted windows were rested at foot level. As the girls walked by, they shimmered as if made of water held impossibly in place against the wall. It rippled as if inviting the heroines to step into it. The chains on their wrists reaching out to each painting as they neared it. It felt like an old friend each lay behind the paintings, resting in some silent world of the departed. A podium lay at the farthest end of the Hall, which both seemed to somehow be near and far. When focused upon, they would take but five steps and suddenly be next to their view, as the others would see them move as if a ghost, fading in and out with each step before they stood at their destination as if the rules of the world did not apply here.
At the podium, was a single written scripture:
Old friends, old rivals. From a world same yet different.
Those who are painted here cast a reflection from a same but different world.
Their whole lives painted into a window, they lived your life as different people.
Born a human, born an elf, born an orc. They are you, and not.
The chains given to you by us, the first generation, will find their link.
Your life, represented by the chains, has no end nor beginning.
Your life is linked to countless possibilities. But its power comes at a price.
Your souls each are lost to time. You were grown, you were raised, until you hit your prime.
We both blessed you and cursed you to never die. Your souls cannot depart.
Your bodies cannot rot.
You can never lose, but neither can you win. A stalemate created by desperation.
Our only hope, as your loving parents, was that you'd find a way, where we could not.
As you read this, so too do your other selves. You're linked together.
Where one hero fails, another may succeed, when one Dragon dies, another is victorious.
Even if it is only in one world, we will be victorious against Chaos... But that is not enough.
Your curse, as we've placed it upon you, must also be broken. But timely so. If you succeed where your link fails, Chaos will only return.
Even if it seems like we did not, we do love each of you. Even those who did not make it with you, or are now your enemies.
Please let them know, we're sorry for their unfortunate birth...
Touch the Painted Glass that calls to you.
The note ended there. The girls each would feel connected to a Painted Glass pane. If they touched it... They felt like they would sink in.
