Once upon a time, in a land not so far away...
You wake to the feeling of being watched. Of a set of unfamiliar eyes, of warm breath on the back of your neck. A jolt back to the land of the living, and it's gone. No matter how quick you are, how sneaky, the source of the disruption has long since disappeared, so you have no choice but to try and ignore it. To continue on with your day and try to set that moment of strangeness aside.
You eat, drink, speak with others. Perhaps you explore a little. Whatever it is you choose to do for the day, that feeling from the morning won't return. And by the time the sun sets and the moon glows brightly above, you've likely set those moments of strangeness aside. It's not like it's anything new, after all.
It's the same again for the next few days. No better, no worse. Something best ignored, right?
A speck of blood on the doorframe. That wasn't there before, was it?
A snap of twigs in the distance. A crunch of leaves.
Claw marks gouged deeply into the door.
Into the wall above your bed.
Scraps of red fabric, turned darker with blood. Pieces of fur. Of flesh.
Do you run and hide? Do you fight? Whatever you choose, it's definitely time to make sure your body parts aren't scattered next...
...what a horribly big mouth you have.
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Since first waking up on the island, characters have been stuck with that feeling of being watched. It isn't a constant. Isn't more than a few seconds at a time, dotted throughout the day. Investigation has never turned up much, and there's never been any sightings of the cause of it all.
Until now.
Throughout the first half of the week, characters will find themselves suffering from that feeling of being watched on a far more constant basis. Rather than it being a one-off, few seconds occurrence each day, that feeling will last for minutes at a time, and on multiple occasions.
However, it isn't until the fifth day that they'll start stumbling across physical signs of their monitoring. There are claw marks on doors. Spots of blood on the paths outside. A crack of twigs in the forests, or the imprint of bloodied paws in the snow.
Ten days in and those signs start finding their way indoors. Wet footprints, tinged with red. Claw marks in the walls, the floor. Torn sheets and the smell of wet...something. Whatever it is that's been watching you, its finally decided to come and say hello.
Two weeks in and characters will begin to have sightings of the creature, its fur dark and its eyes a glowing yellow. At times it looks like a wolf, prowling in the distance. At other times, it's walking on its hind legs, almost human were it not for the muzzle full of gleaming sharp teeth. Get too close, and it slips away like a shadow, gone between one blink and the next. It decides when to reach out to characters, not the other way round.
It's after characters finally get a good look at the creature that it starts leaving...gifts. Characters will start to find familiar items from their home worlds amidst the mess. The remains of a childhood pet, perhaps. Photographs of loved ones, faces torn almost beyond recognition. It's only once it delivers its final gift that the creature retreats to the trees again: a blood-splattered item of clothing that clearly belongs to the person the character misses the most at the time, alive or dead.
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fablelands2018-08-27 11:34 pm
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it's his curiosity that has kept him dwelling on his failure for too long. his need to find out where he is. where this land, so deeply ingrained with magic, has been hidden for so long. so naturally, his feet carry him towards the great lake. to the well that draws his attention for so long.
crouched by the water's edge, merlin allows his fingers to trail across the surface of the water. a brush against the rocks that stand so proudly. this is old magic. something both familiar and yet brand new to him at the very same time. but before he can attempt to delve any further, there's movement across the lake, and merlin scrambles backwards to get away from the water completely.]
What--
[the word barely escapes him before he hears another voice nearby, his head snapping in its direction to find its owner.]
You saw it too?
[he isn't imagining things then?]
no subject
[ He squints out across the water - it looks more like a lake than a river, with some kind of distant shore on the far side. His mind filters through the kinds of beasts he's read about in the great library in Minrathous: krakens, sea serpents, water dragons...
It's probably a dragon. It's always a dragon. Dorian can't seem to go anywhere without there being some kind of ridiculously overpowered reptile threatening to stomp them in to the ground. ]
Some kind of water dragon, maybe. [ Ugh. Dorian purses his lips, suppressing an impatient sigh, before finally turning his attention to the young man scrambling away from the water. ]
Either way, let's keep our distance, yes? I'd rather not give it any funny ideas about eating humans for breakfast.
no subject
[not that he has much to compare it to. wyvern aside, he only knows two, and neither of them look a thing like whatever it is out there. but if it is a dragon, perhaps...
no. trying to talk to the creature right now isn't likely going to end well. especially not when there's someone else nearby. it'd be just his luck that he'd anger the creature enough for it to try to attack them both.
getting back to his feet, merlin takes a moment to dust himself off. to try and drag his attention away from the lake and over to the other man. despite popular opinion, he does have manners.]
I don't suppose you know anything about this land?
no subject
[ If Dorian sounds short well, that's because he's feeling pretty short on patience. There's a slight edge to his voice, one that goes beyond mere frustration; the fact that he's arrived here alone, so suddenly and without warning, without the Inquisitor and his party can only mean bad things.
And he doesn't even have his staff. That's another bad sign in and of itself. He crosses his arms over his chest, all creaking leather and the quiet tinkle of metal fastenings, and surveys the young man. ]
I assume you're just as in the dark about all this as I am? Arrived in your sleep, alone, without any explanation or so much as a by-your-leave? [ Dorian tuts. ] No accounting for manners, this kidnapper of ours.
no subject
[it's a magic he isn't familiar with. something both old and new at the same time. and while he knows he should be upset, should be worried that they've all been brought here, he can't deny that there's a certain amount of excitement there too. warlock or not, there's still so much he still has to learn about the magic that exists out there.
and his number one focus right now? the castle in the middle of the lake. but with the ripples of the lake, even he knows better than to risk heading out there to look right now.
another glance round and--]
Oh. Right. My name is Merlin. It's good to meet you. [circumstances aside, of course.]
no subject
A pleasure to meet you, Merlin. Or it would be, if perhaps we were anywhere else. [ He straightens a little, all charisma and charm as he puts on his best "kidnap is no excuse for bad manners" smile and flourishes a hand. ]
Dorian Pavus, formerly of Minrathous and latterly of wherever-this-is. I don't suppose we know where 'this' is yet?
no subject
[and apparently minrathous. not that he's ever heard of it before. but given the kind of magic that seems to have gone in to creating these lands, he isn't surprised. there's a lot to still learn about this island, and its name is the least of it all.]
Is Minrathous similar to this? [forests. lakes. magic. though given that he's familiar with dragons, he already knows the last must be true.]