R
Rosé Moon
Guest
Original poster
A R E N A F O R G E D
○●Misadventures in Faerün●○
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The notices had littered the nearly every notice board in the merchant metropolis of Arabel. I'm sure you've heard about it too-- the air of danger surrounding the Dalelands -- The forest on the Northeast route out of the sprawling city -- the rampant reports of missing individuals passing through. A couple monthes ago, the number of missing was small enough to pass off as the inevitable reward of bandits, or animal or beast attacks but now...
For a merchant city, a lost trade route is a huge problem. Especially when two of every three imports and exports over the last few monthes have vanished. At this point, the city government saw it fit to seal the gate, and begin planning for a new gate and route that circumvented the woods. This was concerning to some, however... more than hundreds of adventurers, farmers, and caravans had been lost before it had even been considered a problem. The Blackstaff in Waterdeep had even been asked to investigate, but had been unable to comply -- something about a Beholder and local gangs.
This leaves a massive registry of missing people, that had basically been written off as natural cold cases until someone of a more magical persuasion could be available to investigate.
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-
An uncomprehensible scream, in a tongue equally comprehensible.
You've awaken in a place with no sky. A roof, yes, but the stuffy, damp air is evident that even outside wherever you have found yourself is far from outdoors. The room around you is dark, but not blinding. Quiet, but not silent. A fire pit in the far side of the room casts a warm glow in the large room-- it appears to be a living hall, with only parts of the table that once resided strewn about the hall. The light only barely reaches to where you are, but enough to see that you are not alone. And enough to see your situation.
Your hands are suspended above you, held by shackles that hang out of the walls. The wall your back rests against is lined with other. Others that also seem to be just rousing themself from a deep sleep. This is alarming, suddenly your mind begins to kick into high gear and you begin to think-- how did you get here? For that matter... who are you!? You try to think of your name, but it stands just tantalizing on the tip of your tongue.
It doesn't come to you before the doors on the far walls are opened and a pair of beings enter, clad in a heavy armor, and armed to the teeth. These creatures... they'll large, and don't quite seem corporial. You could swear that you could see through these bulky boys, who seem to be sprouting a ghostly fire from around there necks. Despite their arguable corprial-ness, the two hoist up the man closest to the door, who seems to still be stumbling into consciousness, and begin dragging him from the room after releasing his restraints.
Suddenly, you and your fellow prisoners are alone again, left in the almost quiet, dimly lit darkness. Waiting. -
The long, dimly light corridor had grown quiet after the last pair of spectral being dragged a man out. After that, it was as silent as a graveyard, and for all intents and purposes, this looked like a waiting room for a graveyard pentroom. The walls were lined with people. Individuals of all kinds were here, and to the young girl, who's arms were suspended above here... somehow, even though some looked different, everyone in this hall was the same. The man kneeling to her left, though he was pale skinned with long, pointed ears-- he was just like her. The young boy on her left, who couldn't be any older than her, who looked... much different. Adorned in hard scales, with a reptile face, but here he was just like her. For some reason, she realized as she lifted her head, seemed to be one of the only people lined up like cattle that seemed to be... well, at least somewhat conscious. There were others though. Directly across from her, a fair skinned woman with swept hair that was slumped forward. Another, right to the right of her was the polar opposite. In the mind of the small girl, who couldn't be any older than twelve, thought she could've been a ghost, but now she seemed to be coming too as well. The ghost woman seemed to be as much a prisoner as the rest of them.
"H-hello?" She spoke, in a language she realized she didn't know how she knew. She didn't know common was... well, common, but she did know she wanted help. People... the two beside her had the same glazed look over their eyes as everyone else, and she wanted to catch the attention of someone who could respond back to her.
As she said, 'hello' however, the room suddenly became filled with a smell that created instinctual fear in most living things that were bound. A sickening, iron smell. The smell of blood.
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