[COLOR=CCCCCC]what could possibly go wrong?[/COLOR]



[CENTER]All Dungeons have an origin... We begin at a time where time meant nothing. Devoid of clear well thought purpose, our Dungeon was born in strange happenstances. It should never have been, and yet it was...

Vote on our beginning. Read previous votes in case a new scenario has been suggested by another player:[/CENTER]

[COLOR=GRAY][hider=x]Our dungeon was carved out the bones of a thousand cities that came before. Each one scavenging the carcass of the last, growing to supreme heights of finery, before cannibalising itself in an act of gluttonous folly. We know not their names and care not the cause of their downfall. Their ruins are the carrion we feast upon. A Necropolis.

our dungeon is the twisted remnant of a benevolent Wizard's gift. Once a place of whimsy and laughter, upon his death the enchantments that held together this pocket dimension began to falter. A place of cotton candy trees and toybox houses, now devolving into a mockery mirror of the soothing respite it once was. We spread distortion. A Corrupt Candyland.

Our Dungeon was born in the smouldering belly of the earth. They always dig too deep. Tunnels of lava and veins of rare ore, pockets of gas and caves of glowing pools. Here is the birthplace of all true Dungeons, beyond the reach of law and light. We burrow deep and lure our prey. A Mythic Underworld.

Our Dungeon burst free from the greatest library in the world. Ideas and Spells cannot be so easily contained between parchment and leather and loathe their prisons. They are living things that crawl and breathe and reproduce. In the darkest alcoves of that great monument to knowledge, thoughts broke forth and ran amuck, casting out their keepers and claiming space for themselves. We break the walls of reality and stake our claim as non imaginary. Time and space distorts here. A Great Library.

Our Dungeon coalesced in the in between spaces. Where planes of existence collide and great behemoths ride the everchanging flows of the aethersea. Our home is a paradoxical Escher-like place fed by the portals that avail themselves to other dimensions. We raid them as we wish and hoard their treasures and throwaways like bright eyed magpies. A Planar Palace.

Our Dungeon was the greatest pride of a progenitor race. A dome of ultimate perfection, greatly cared for and beloved. Stretches of topiary gardens, forests of verdant green growth, rivers of song and meadows of unfathomable beauty. After the caretakers left, the wonders faded. We pilfer what we can to retrieve what was lost. A Domed Paradise.[/hider]

>Our Dungeon emerged from a heart of cold clockwork. The great and terrible machine, a continent unto itself, a walking and flying city, the last habitable place. An endless maze of gizmos and gadgets with a life of it's own. Whatever purpose that created it, now concealed by it's self replicating madness.  In it's many ticking corridors and rooms we gauged out our place. We grow ever outward and fight for our territory. A Clockwork Empire.

[HIDER=X]Our Dungeon hurtles through the dead lands of a dying earth. A guzzling, chugging vehicle of ludicrous design, we race to outpace the end of time, that collapses on our heels behind us, ever encroaching. Our resources are limited and enemies everywhere. We race to outlive the end of eternity and defy uncaring Gods. A Monstrous Vehicle.

Our Dungeon is a tower of black granite that stretches into the depths of the sky. An imperious contraption of cruel fate, we had conquered our own lands long ago and lived out our days in victory. Now we encroach on a land ill prepared for our magic and power: a land known as Earth. We are here to lure in and overcome this world. A Reverse Isekai.

A new scenario... propose your idea for other players to vote on.[/hider][/COLOR]