After this chapter will be a brief intermission, where refreshments will be
served and you will get the first bonus for being such good readers, one
characters game stats! Also, pardon the spacing on Chapter 5, I'm writing
this using three different computers and I used Wordpad to write Ch.5.
****************************************************
The world was grey, and Felisto's soul reflected that reality. There was no color, and through the days of wandering Felisto had lost all color as well, even the astral pools no longer seemed bright and cheery. Caught between the dreams and the grey, Felisto despaired, and cried out for help, but he was adrift in the planar currents. The dreams reached out for him, but their grip was never strong. Eventually Felisto could see the mouth of the great ephemeral river he now floated along, and saw it was the maw of the underworld. He welcomed this respite, hoping that true death would end his suffering. Than the dreams came, and took hold of him for one last, final tug. Before Felisto could reach the mouth of the river of souls, he was dragged out by the dreams, and then he lay there on the shore. Gasping for air, Felisto looked around, and saw grey; nothing but grey. Nothing but grey and a rock..
The rock had not been there before, and Felisto crawled closer to it, feeling nothing with his ethereal body. He was naked, but did not feel the elements, felt nothing but the grayness of the land around him. His despair increased, but still he crawled towards the rock, fixing himself on the only object which might provide him shelter, and salvation. As Felisto drew closer the rock grew bigger, proving to be a mountain now, riddled with caves and dark intentions. He could feel the dreams again, and they beckoned him forward, ever towards the caves.
When Felisto reached the caves he crawled into the nearest one and blacked out, going into sleep to deep even for his dreams to call him..
The temple Felisto had crawled into was immense, and spirits drudged single-mindedly through it towards the great altar in the center. Built into the side of the mountain, it was well hidden from mortal eyes in the land of Hades, but it lit up like a beacon to those who no longer lived. Like the rest of Hades the temple interior was drained of color, but in addition was a deathly silence. Neither footstep nor word made a sound. Even the wails of the dead were silenced within the hallowed walls. The temple itself consisted of a large central chamber in which the ceiling was a portal to the astral plane, and in its center stood the Goddess of the Silent Dead. The corpse of the Silent One was a mere skeleton, residing on an altar in the center of the room, grasping the greataxe and harp that were her weapons in life. Long silver hair spread out from her head, reaching towards the walls, spreading around the room. The floor had been overtaken long before with the hair of the dead goddess, and now it crept up the walls, spreading like a vine from the deepest layers of the abyss. Spirits flitted about the room at the beck and call of the goddesses mind, receiving orders for when they may speak to the land of the living. This was the port to the mortal worlds, and the goddess controlled it.
Felisto woke up much later, and found that he had almost been devoured by the sea of hair. He trudged onwards towards the center of the temple, and eventually reached the altar. He laid himself down at the base of the altar and took to the sleep his dream state now ordered him to..
He no longer dreamed the peaceful things that bound him to the goddess. Now he was in her domain, and she controlled the dreams. Over time she showed him how to use her magic, gave him the powers of a cleric, but no more. Her spirit appeared to him many times to give him assurance that he was doing well, that he will grow stronger in time. 'The other gods will know if I create an equal, instead the power must be siphoned to you from the dreams. Gain strength as a Cleric in the mortal world and greater power shall follow.'
She showed him her vision of the future. He was to gather the twelve books of lore she had hidden while she was alive, and use its magic to redirect the portal the spirits used from Hades. She was a dead god, that much would never change, but if the portal were reversed the immense power of Hades would spill out upon the planes of existence, and her power would grow. All would have to bow to the silence, and all would face the grayness that now permeated her world. Not even a god was immune to the grays, and all would feel the soulful pain she now felt.
Il'Laquar felt no hatred, no guilt. Just remorse for her lost life. Just the pain she wished to share with the rest of the world. Her soul was crying out in suffering, a suffering she would share with the rest of reality.
The world was grey, and Felisto's soul reflected that reality. There was no color, and through the days of wandering Felisto had lost all color as well, even the astral pools no longer seemed bright and cheery. Caught between the dreams and the grey, Felisto despaired, and cried out for help, but he was adrift in the planar currents. The dreams reached out for him, but their grip was never strong. Eventually Felisto could see the mouth of the great ephemeral river he now floated along, and saw it was the maw of the underworld. He welcomed this respite, hoping that true death would end his suffering. Than the dreams came, and took hold of him for one last, final tug. Before Felisto could reach the mouth of the river of souls, he was dragged out by the dreams, and then he lay there on the shore. Gasping for air, Felisto looked around, and saw grey; nothing but grey. Nothing but grey and a rock..
The rock had not been there before, and Felisto crawled closer to it, feeling nothing with his ethereal body. He was naked, but did not feel the elements, felt nothing but the grayness of the land around him. His despair increased, but still he crawled towards the rock, fixing himself on the only object which might provide him shelter, and salvation. As Felisto drew closer the rock grew bigger, proving to be a mountain now, riddled with caves and dark intentions. He could feel the dreams again, and they beckoned him forward, ever towards the caves.
When Felisto reached the caves he crawled into the nearest one and blacked out, going into sleep to deep even for his dreams to call him..
The temple Felisto had crawled into was immense, and spirits drudged single-mindedly through it towards the great altar in the center. Built into the side of the mountain, it was well hidden from mortal eyes in the land of Hades, but it lit up like a beacon to those who no longer lived. Like the rest of Hades the temple interior was drained of color, but in addition was a deathly silence. Neither footstep nor word made a sound. Even the wails of the dead were silenced within the hallowed walls. The temple itself consisted of a large central chamber in which the ceiling was a portal to the astral plane, and in its center stood the Goddess of the Silent Dead. The corpse of the Silent One was a mere skeleton, residing on an altar in the center of the room, grasping the greataxe and harp that were her weapons in life. Long silver hair spread out from her head, reaching towards the walls, spreading around the room. The floor had been overtaken long before with the hair of the dead goddess, and now it crept up the walls, spreading like a vine from the deepest layers of the abyss. Spirits flitted about the room at the beck and call of the goddesses mind, receiving orders for when they may speak to the land of the living. This was the port to the mortal worlds, and the goddess controlled it.
Felisto woke up much later, and found that he had almost been devoured by the sea of hair. He trudged onwards towards the center of the temple, and eventually reached the altar. He laid himself down at the base of the altar and took to the sleep his dream state now ordered him to..
He no longer dreamed the peaceful things that bound him to the goddess. Now he was in her domain, and she controlled the dreams. Over time she showed him how to use her magic, gave him the powers of a cleric, but no more. Her spirit appeared to him many times to give him assurance that he was doing well, that he will grow stronger in time. 'The other gods will know if I create an equal, instead the power must be siphoned to you from the dreams. Gain strength as a Cleric in the mortal world and greater power shall follow.'
She showed him her vision of the future. He was to gather the twelve books of lore she had hidden while she was alive, and use its magic to redirect the portal the spirits used from Hades. She was a dead god, that much would never change, but if the portal were reversed the immense power of Hades would spill out upon the planes of existence, and her power would grow. All would have to bow to the silence, and all would face the grayness that now permeated her world. Not even a god was immune to the grays, and all would feel the soulful pain she now felt.
Il'Laquar felt no hatred, no guilt. Just remorse for her lost life. Just the pain she wished to share with the rest of the world. Her soul was crying out in suffering, a suffering she would share with the rest of reality.