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Recent Statuses

8 yrs ago
I am Spartacus!
1 like
9 yrs ago
"Stay awhile and listen!"
2 likes
9 yrs ago
God bless.
2 likes
10 yrs ago
ARISTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
10 yrs ago
Spleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!

Bio

I'm not really a bird.

-0-

Where did I play,
A land of twisted branches,
A kingdom of clay,
A swamp of memories,
A never-ending day,

Where did I run,
Across the dawn,
Through the sun,
Across the sky,
Through laughs and fun,

Where did I walk,
Pristine grass green,
White cliffs of chalk,
Pools of sky so blue,
Orchard stones that talk,

Where did I sit,
By the gates of silver,
Near endless pit,
By forever horizon,
You may remember it.

Most Recent Posts



A crippling silence overtook the lifeblood that pooled at the great fen. A large swathe of it that stretched far into the horizon shivered as if in a grimacing pain -- save for one small freckle that seemed to soak in the misery of the shudder.

This everstretched tract of lifeblood turned its attention towards a particular area of the fen, near the center -- hidden behind a wall of beech trees: a grove ringed by blue and white headed mushrooms and blanketed in a deeply green moss. Tiny stones littered the grove here and there like miniature headstones and reeked of a past despite time just beginning.

The lifeblood shivered once more as it swirled in this strange spot, and then without much else -- its power pulsed. The ground shook and crackled as two pillars of stone, no taller than a man and no wider than a leg, sprouted a healthy distance from each other. It was unremarkable in all ways except its simplicity. Unsatisfied, the lifeblood pulsed again, and a webbing of metal stretched between the pillars to make a gate with no hinge, already rusted in place. Reluctantly, the lifeblood added one final feature to the gate: a mark on one of the pillars that in the most basic of any language said: “The Son of Night will Be Brought to Light.”

Pausing, the Lifeblood knew it was not done. A tender tendril went out through the now sacred grove and latched onto the nothingness between the beech trees and patterns of mushrooms. With a gentle stroke, the lifeblood coaxed many tiny sprouts to grow. The single springs of green curled at the tops and never left a foot off the ground before suddenly producing a head of violet buds and four speared leaves. In moments, the buds sprouted into white and purple flowers with a sticky scent, and in moments more the blossoms produced tiny berries -- berries with the strange property of filling entire stomachs for days with impossible nutrition -- a unique staple to this budding grove, a houllin berry.

A contemplative silence overtook the area once more. Various song birds and little fen mice were collecting in the grove, but it was not done. Amidst the fresh buzzing of dragonflies, the lifeblood took a gentle motion and sprouted a spattering of tiny stones, each the size of a thumb. There was hesitation, there was pause, but then there was a pulse of life -- and the stones cracked.

Out from the stone shells stepped tiny people, each the size of a thumb. With care, the lifeblood scooped the confused beings from the mossy blanket below and placed them in a woody cavern that cracked a beech tree’s hide. Another waft of the lifeblood, and a tiny pile of houllin berries were placed before the oogling people, gentle coos of wonder echoing among the tiny crowd.

The lifeblood shaded the thumblings from the sun as they blinked their eyes, adjusting to life. It brought them water whenever they began to thirst, and collected berries for them. Just as the thumblings watched the primordial ooze of divine life before them, the divine watched back with the same interest -- most notably that tiny freckle.







I think this is a very interesting kernel of an idea - but it is a bit short on information. For example, when you say "A group of people of various medieval professions and skill...", do you mean medieval Europe? Africa? Japan?


Doesn't really matter too much, since the setting would be a bridge. Anyone can be on a bridge.
Sup


So this will likely be the shortest interest check I have ever written or possibly seen in the Advanced section but don't let that fool you - I'm dead serious about this (there is a reason its a check).

Basically this is my idea: You know who you are, you know what you used to do -- I say used to because you just woke up dangling over an endless foggy abyss atop of a wide stoned bridge (about let's say the bridge is 12 meters wide)/ It seems to stretch infinitely in both directions. That's about it.

A group of people of various medieval professions and skill waking up on an infinite bridge that dwells over a chilly wind swept abyss. Frontwards or backwards we will find, discover, and survive -- and maybe go home, maybe die..who knows but the narrative.

This is almost more of a writing prompt than a full fledged play-by-post campaign, but a short story or minimalist story is still a story worth exploring.

Thoughts?

Edit: Keep in mind this is in the advanced sections so I do expect full fledged character development and paged posts among this existential journey -- its deceivingly a simple idea but ever so psychological.

My only concern is that there is too little to get us going, hence the check.
@goldeagle1221

You are on the right path, but I would expand just a bit more on the government? It sounds more like a loose collection of tribes then a nation? Also be sure to have a characters tab, a tab for named characters who will likely appear or are named in your NS.


Half right, it's not a nation for sure -- but a smattering of collectives, communes and commonwealths that come in the form of familial farms, intrafamilial hamlets/villages, and mayoral towns and cities. They are all linked by a common culture and geographical region; that's the humans. The Goblins similarly have no single nation but are separated in tribes that share a common culture, religion and region.
@slagar Update!


{This is not in sheet format}
Looks interesting.

@Oraculum thoughts?
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