My first little shot at being the terrifying thing Angwe has become. Taken from Aymah's perspective. Criticism welcome and accepted!
He is an experienced Tekal. The vague suggestion of wiry muscle ripples under the milky white skin of this bizarre creature of sharp angles and distended joints. Looking as though someone had stretched a Sapient mortal on a rack, the creature rises nearly to eight feet at a glance, though an oddly mutable feature makes it difficult to gauge height or weight. Black, stringy ruinous hair hangs down from the top of it's head, tangled with bones and small glass objects that seem liable to slip free at any moment. Lacking any definite facial features, the creatures countenance shifts and roils, wide fanged maws and bloodshot eyes emerging at random points on it's body. He is wearing:
6 silver rings
a crimson Morgun poppy
a supple snakeskin rucksack
a simple bag made from an old banner
a leather herb pouch
a white crystal amulet
a pair of diffusal goggles
a gold star
a dhurive bandolier of polished dark leather
a savage suit of bone-adorned chainmail
a pair of cloth wrap gloves
a blue crystal amulet
a cracked hematite medallion of the Pride
a lunar eclipse medallion
a cracked fang earring
an iron ylem-binding gauntlet
a black and gold silk loincloth
He walks with the blessing of Dhar.
She is an experienced Tsol'aa standing almost at six feet, with a slender frame.Her skin is a tanned beige, and eyes are a dull hue of amber. Of angular features, she bears an upturned nose and elongated ears that extend toward the back of her head. Flowing over her shoulders are furious auburn locks, offset by numerous strands of what appears to be very fine vines. Sprouting densely from her scalp, they are the fiery red and golden colors of foliage during the fall, with miniscule leaves burdening their lengths. With tiny shoots curling whimsically only in the manner greenery might, they fall way past her waist, clinging to her form like a capricious ivy. She is wearing:a raccoon charm anklet3 sleek obsidian bandsa cracked hematite medallion of the Pridea single bloom of Shaper's Glovea brass keyringa primeval dress of frayed, vibrant silka white gold raccoon engagement ringa bejeweled signet ringa lustrous obsidian ringa suit of steel chain maila wraparound gold chain strung with beadsShe walks with the blessing of Dhar.
[spoiler]Today is the 18th of Arios, year 383 of the Midnight Age.
Your innate calendar sense tells you it is spring.
In your world it is Saturday, the 9th of February, in the year 2013.
Scout Master Angwe Arcan, a'Bainidhe's voice resonates across the land, in
Sylvan, "At long last, it's all of ours!"
You tell Scout Master Angwe Arcan, a'Bainidhe, "Mhrmph."
Angwe tells you, "Help me." Overlapping the familiar mind you know, another
voice makes itself known. "Problems, little weedling?"
You tell Scout Master Angwe Arcan, a'Bainidhe, "Are you... alright?"
Angwe tells you, "We are WONDERFUL, fleshling! How is your miserable existence?"
Angwe tells you, "No... this is wrong."
Angwe tells you, "This isn't how it's supposed to be..."
Angwe tells you, "THE FOOL THOUGHT WE WOULD BE GONE!"
You tell Scout Master Angwe Arcan, a'Bainidhe, "I er-- what."
Angwe tells you, "We really must thank you for breaking The Fool's little mortal
Angwe tells you, "D-don't listen to them!"
Angwe tells you, "I'm... I'm not right, Aymah."
Angwe tells you, "I can't control them anymore."
Within a shadow-drenched canyon pass.
A distinct slope slants from south to north, the rocky path dropping as the
passageway moves into deeper fog. An acrid scent drifts fitfully through the
cooling air, and lightning streaks overhead, veiled by a shroud of mist and
casting sickly illumination over the otherwise shadowed stone. Massive canyon
walls climb high on each side, forking and splintering as the canyons continue.
Scout Master Angwe Arcan, a'Bainidhe is here. He wields a vicious grey dhurive
in his hands.
You see exits leading north and south.
"Aymah..." Angwe's voice comes from an unseen source, chiming in your mind more
than heard by your earts. Limbs jerking out of sync as he moves towards you, a
fang-lined maw forms on his 'face'. "Come to see us in all our glory,
flesh-thing?" another voice barks, it's tone flippant and sardonic.
You have emoted: Aymah's eyes widen as she raises her dhurive in a sort of
protective fashion, nearly stumbling the few steps that she shuffles back. Mouth
agape, she stares at Angwe with a near-palpable amount of disbelief, threatening
to choke on syllables that won't escape her lips.
The mouth chuckles as Angwe raises an overlong arm towards you, milky white
digits shaking at an unnatural speed. A bulge forms on his chest and splits, a
bloodshot eye rolling in new life before focusing on you.
You have emoted: Aymah's eyes dart this way and that, fear mounting rather
quickly in her features. "Wh--" She stutters uneasily, sliding yet another step
The mouth on Angwe's 'face' grins unnervingly wide before splitting. Wide, too
wide... the head collapses, a white bulge pushing itself through the fang-lined
opening and the head seeming to collapse on itself. "We've Ascended, Aymah!" a
several voices seem to scream at you as the mouth splits fully open, another
head thrusting out at you. "Aren't you HAPPY for us?!"
You have emoted: A final, startled and explosive step drives Aymah's back
straight into the canyon wall, her expression betraying the sheer horror she
seems to be experiencing. At an utter lack for words, or perhaps an inability to
speak them, she merely remains there, watching Angwe.
Angwe abruptly pulls the second head back into the darkness of his maw, the
opening sealing shut with a snap. Stretching it's elongated arms out, it's
stringy fingers make contact with your flesh, the skin feeling like damp rubber
You have emoted: Aymah recoils instinctively to one side, attempting to avoid
the contact. She stumbles briefly and quickly straightens, hoisting her dhurive
up horizontally in an attempt to shove Angwe off. "ANGWE!" She breaks at last,
voice firm, although loaded with fright.
An odd trilling sound rises up from the depths of Angwe's form. "Angwe! ANGWE!"
your voice echoes mockingly from an unseen point, the acoustics of the strange
cavern causing the sound to warp grotesquely.
Angwe's head begins to vibrate unnaturally fast. "S-stop, STOP IT!" Angwe's
natural, familiar voice cries out, a mouth and a pair of eyes forming more or
less where they should on his face. "You're scaring her..."
You have emoted: Aymah appears to pale considerably, the very color of her eyes
shifting unsteadily from one hue of amber to dark violets. Rooted to the ground,
it is only her hands that move, in a clear struggle to not lose the grip on her
"Aymah," Angwe says, pulling his hands away from your face. "Aymah, it's me this
time... it's really me."
"Ssslay herr-," a voice whispers from somewhere behind Angwe, the sound
terminating in a sudden, animalistic screech.
You have emoted: Aymah's lips part with a squeak, her grip on a vicious white
dhurive loosens and she sinks to the ground in utter fear, tightly covering her
ears with both hands.
Angwe draws away from you, stalking in quiet steps before breaking off into a
loping run across the blighted landscape and disappearing from sight.
Angwe leaves to the north.
Scout Master Angwe Arcan, a'Bainidhe yells, "RrrrrRRRRRRAAAAUUUUGH!"[/spoiler]