Dekaidin

Ecetopia: Rzail: Karnorouri’s Pillar

Everyone knows caravans traverse great sand flats beneath the wan light of Ecetopia’s twin satellites. Day broils too viciously and new moons mask hurdles too perilous. Within the unpopulated reaches of a planet so steeped in mysticism, misadventures are commonplace and vigilance to the ploys of fae and deceits of satyrs advised. However, for Rzail’s desert, and its sprawling expanse of blight, the pale dunes bury mysteries and whisper hazards for which no preparation is effectual and every precaution necessary.

One particular caravan realizes its destination is near when the quality of the sand sharpens from grains to fine bone-white slivers, the very air inspires retching, and the wind sings of a nameless dread with aspirations of implanting itself in and maligning heroic souls. They reach their final ascent of what seems merely of a great dune; yet, as they struggle upward in the predawn fugue amongst the ephemeral companionship of dust devils and mirages, the unnaturally titanic quality of the terrain becomes increasingly evident.

At long last, their trek plateaus. Off in the distance, they behold a monolith that rises in defiance of the first weak rays of dawn. Overhead gyres a murder of three-eyed raveina obscuras, the mockery of their caws a juxtaposition to the indistinct nature of their forms that seems to coalesce and disassociate with all the perspicuity of embers leaping from a coal. One breaks from the group, comes to rest atop the large stone spire, its white beak and eyes queerly lit, and sets its menacing gaze on the caravan. The silent, hateful, lidless leering is somehow worse than any sound it might conceivably produce.

As silently it sits, they near their destination. There, availed closer inspection, an abandoned, but recent, excavation at the pillar’s base manifests. Shovels, graphite stone rubbings, and camp paraphernalia are heaped in piles next to a tent’s ominously flapping tatters. What remains of an auger—the equivalent of satellite communication—lies nearby, its codex shattered. Markings indicate this is the property of the University of Eceterum Alacis, the body responsible for illuminating to the modern world the myth of Karnorouri that towers above them as a very real token of almost forgotten history.

Ever more the day blossoms, chasing away the carrion and defining the exquisitely horrific craftsmanship of the pillar. A massive arm, stripped of flesh, pierces the sand and clutches a stone tablet on which, they are sure, is engraved the infamous stanza. Beyond, the light exposes yet more excavations spread around the central edifice as markings on a sundial. Very well the equidistant cairns may be, had all been spared the plight of burial.

In a gesture as deliberate as it is ominous, the bird glances at a particular mound of stones and lets out a blood-curdling cry. Then, in equally jarring fashion, it ascends back to its familial shadows.

Within, the cairn reveals itself as a former abode with a set of stairs descending to oblivion. On its walls is written a message fresh in blood—over and over again the same three lines, mad, violent, undeniable, and crimson:

“Burn the bodies, scatter the bones.
Burn the bodies, scatter the bones!
BURN THE BODIES, SCATTER THE BONES.”

Gradric Greatbeard

@Tristwich Your profile is missing some required information. Please review the character creation guidelines and if you have any questions feel free to ask.

Voph Daeka

@EchoesofOld Approved.

Rosa Stoneheart

@Ciaran Approved.

Rosa Stoneheart

@Ciaran Being able to regenerate from any injury without qualification within a minute seems well above influence three. I would like to see more detail on this ability.

No God's Sky

“Did you hear that?” Eti stopped abruptly in his tracks and pondered.

Around him stretched a cavernous cargo hold. One of many, although large, it was relatively small in comparison to the bays that housed interplanetary shuttles such as his precious Tabris Ruzgar. Towering above him on all sides were translucent containers, a strange few filled to the brim with precious ores and other raw materials; a state that, at first glance, suggested the vessel left in haste rather than procure a full shipment of trade goods from Ganax’ab.

Most of the interior of this part of the ship was designed the a similar fashion, with semi-opaque and vaguely luminous walls, ceilings, and floors offering a swift survey of one’s surroundings and the trade sundries in various sections. A glance over his shoulder confirmed the safe and secure artifacts and art galleries through which they recently passed. Beneath him, thin, rubbery lines on the floor mapped routes to other parts of the vessel in blue, orange, green, and black. At present, they were in pursuit of the green line—passenger quarters.

Close at hand, Boomslang frowned at his charge, paused, and perked an ear. Indeed, there was a rumble somewhere in the distance. It sounded like a far away avalanche or strip miner, but, in spite of the loss of the Vepsis Dol’s faster-than-light capabilities, artificial gravity remained undisturbed and intact. Still, on a vessel so complex any one of a thousand things could be the culprit, from a surge of fresh atmosphere from one of the massive air purifiers to thermal expansion in the hull as the warmth inside combated the frozen void without.

“Probably the machinery,” he suggested nonchalantly.

“It doesn’t sound mechanical,” Eti disagreed. Convinced of that, he abandoned his green line, and all lines altogether, and sauntered off in the direction of the noise.

“Maybe it will provide some clue as to what is wrong with the transport.”

Intermittently, the rumbling grew louder and nearer. Fear strove against curiosity, but inevitably lost. Then, three chambers hence, without explanation, just as they grating noise reached an obnoxious volume, a sudden cessation. Eerily, the silence flowed around him and his unwelcome guard, pregnant with deception. It was a familiar sensation for one trained in the ways of assassination. He recalled how prey would feel a presence, without reason, become quiet, assess their surroundings, but eventually dismiss that inexplicable six sense as mere paranoia. Yet nobody was here. He knew everyone on the ship and they were all accounted for. Unless—maybe a stowaway? Around him towered bins of shalam. Two and a half, actually, although the room’s dozens of containers should have been filled with megatons of the radioactive rock. Each seemed rather dusty and dull, although they did glow. But that half full one, so suspiciously low, shone a little more or perhaps a little less. Either way, he didn’t like the way it shifted and glared back at him.

“Hold on a se —”, Eti began to say when suddenly the rocks sprang to life.

Marie Antoinette Vandersnappe

@The1Rolling1Boy Sorry for the delay. Yes, that works for me. Approved.

Stop watching anime~ and get a job~

@Antarctic Termite Approved.

Sabine Ra

One of the difficulties of playing a leader is that you have to develop the thing you're lreading and how it fits into the context of the larger world. I'd like to see a bit more of that in your profile. Additionally, describing the pull your character has that justifies a global influence could be helpful; for exampe, do they have access to nuclear launch codes or other weapons of mass destruction, the ability to influence intraplentary economics, mass mind control, etc.

Marie Antoinette Vandersnappe

@The1Rolling1Boy You're missing an Influence indicator, which based on your profile I would assume would be a 1 (self). Also, I don't believe there is an "Earth" in the Expanding Horizons universe, so you may need to come up with some other place your character heralds from.