Everywhere, and Nowhere

Containing forums for the other lands of the world

Moderators: Ref, Senior Refs

User avatar
Posts: 818
Joined: Tue Aug 19, 2008 2:37 pm

Everywhere, and Nowhere

Postby Huw » Fri May 24, 2013 4:32 pm

I run.

On my eight legs I cross into a realm of dreams. At its centre stands a knight, watchful, overseeing the dreams and visions, nightmares and inspiration that visiting mortals experience in their sleep. This realm has seen change before, owners old, owners new and owners potential. But now-
The knight sees me. He raises his mace.

“This is not your realm. You know nothing of dreams and nightmares.”
So I run on

into another realm. Demons cavort, delighting in pain and suffering unending. Everything here is shaped towards the inflicting the most pain possible, in service and glory to their mistress.
As I watch the demons perform their duties, she sense me. Her eyes reach across the realm and I behold the hatred and fear in her gaze. This is her realm, not mine. There is only one Goddess here, and pretenders cannot be allowed.
At her command, cackling minions on leathery wings take to the air, promising torture and agony unimagined. So I catch them in webs, wrapping them in strands stronger than the fear and agony they wield, and as they struggle and wail I make the world twist

and enter a realm of light. There are no lies or secrets here. There is no crime suffering; justice is absolute and unquestioned. All races live in peace under the gaze of the Goddess who holds back the power of the sun.
“What is this?”
She has seen me. We regard each other in silence for a moment, and then she smiles.
“Well. You are unexpected. But you cannot stay here. This is not your realm.” She gives me a push.

The next realm is anarchy, its denizens and architecture everything ever imagined, doing things sometimes beyond imagination. I scuttle through the impossible landscapes and the ravages of madness until I notice something. There is no God here. No-one to shoo me onwards, no-one to fear me usurping them, or to try and steal my power.
I stop. I could stay, here. This could become my realm. For a moment I consider, then catch sight of one of my legs. I can see this world through it. It has left no footprints in this place. Like me it is not really here. I know that if I stayed I would not make this world into my shape; it would shape me, instead.
No, this is not my realm. So I bridge the void and move on.


“Oh, my….”

A robed figure watches this new arrival as it runs. He flickers between divine realms with a thought, always just beyond sight and existence of the spider he regards. His black-masked face, somehow, shows great interest.

“Now this is interesting. Will you walk into my parlour, little spider?

Or shall I make one for you…?”
Ancálimon y Festaer y Helyanwe, Alchemist
Azael Bannon, Telefret High Mage
Fox, Shaman of the Tsimshian

It's only a game.

User avatar
Posts: 818
Joined: Tue Aug 19, 2008 2:37 pm

Re: Everywhere, and Nowhere

Postby Huw » Sun May 26, 2013 7:30 pm


He delved within his realm, and drew from it the Potential. Things that had not been, that could have but did not happen, ideas not realised or acted on.
He took a water elf, an exemplar of her people. He took a failure that destroyed a world and broke a son's mind. A murder attempted but failed. Artifice, cunning and wit, not properly expounded. A story told but rarely believed.

These things and more he took, and he put them aside.


Word was out, amongst taverns and meeting places. A reward for certain objects, artifacts; abstract and concrete, known and forgotten. The people hadn't known yesterday,...but today, word had been around for weeks. All over the world thieves, Heroes, adventurers set out to gather and seek.

From Mahter came a dagger, part of a great deception. From the ruins of Ingolé a tiny box, containing nothing material. Draconis Tielvar yielded a single scale. Coshwood Isle, a face of madness, Pharon Gloss, a steel sword, the depths of the sea a dead leviathan.

These Real things and more he took, and he put them aside.


I run through realms now familiar, chased off by their presiding gods. A vampire watching over the dead sees me and waves his staff impatiently. A thousand droplets, each part of a once greater whole who ruled water, swim like a shoal of fish to chase me onwards. And onwards I go, dancing through worlds

and...stop. This realm belongs to no one. Has belonged to no one. I have run through hells and heavens, madness and reason, truth and shadow, yet never have I seen this place before. And one who is not its master stands before me, in black robe and black mask.

"You." I say. "You have made this."

He nods. "Yes. It is not the realm you seek. I would not, could not make such a thing. Do not want to make such a thing. It pleases me much more to give you the means to make it yourself.

I am the Could Have Been King. I thrive and delight in change, in creation, in potential. In this place I have made for you, there are two types of thing. They are powerful in themselves but, combined with a third thing, their power is much greater. That thing is you, because you are Divine. With these three things one can make, be, anything."

I look at the things he has gathered.

"I am uncertain." I say. "Which of these is me?"

The King inclines his head, opens his arms, and fades away.
Last edited by Huw on Tue May 28, 2013 9:27 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Ancálimon y Festaer y Helyanwe, Alchemist
Azael Bannon, Telefret High Mage
Fox, Shaman of the Tsimshian

It's only a game.

User avatar
Posts: 818
Joined: Tue Aug 19, 2008 2:37 pm

Re: Everywhere, and Nowhere

Postby Huw » Mon May 27, 2013 3:39 pm

And with that, the Could Have Been King might have left it. Let this newcomer create itself, draw what influences it wanted or first came across. That would be impartial. That would be expected. That would be...fair.

But the King did not want to be too fair. He had concerns. Family. And so he searched through his net of possibilities, searching for the right mortal in the right place...


"I am either your God or your Destruction. Choose."

Wendell had frozen, panic and disbelief suffusing his features. So soon after his God's destruction - he had barely begun to understand the calamity that had befallen - and now another figure, burning with the power of Wendell's God stood before him and delivered this ultimatum.

He'd hesitated. Evidently for too long because the figure in front of him had looked bored and bathed him in divine fire, disappearing from view even as Wendell was consumed.


For an instant, for an age, that had been all. The Hopewastes beckoned to him. He had begun to enter them.

"No. You're not done, yet."

A black mask, impossibly large, filled Wendell's view. There was a sense of change, dislocation, a jarring of the world. He blinked, tried to ask what? - and suddenly he was back on Velmaneth. His body was remade. He lay curled up on the ground, surrounded by greasy ashes, and noticed a figure in black regarding him.

He sat up, slowly and hesitantly, pushing handprints into the remains of his old body.

"So," said the figure. "You're back. Alive, despite being utterly destroyed by Quaos."

Quaos? That must be-

Wendell tried to stand, fell over in his haste.

"This - this is a travesty! It cannot be - they have usurped the Sun!?" His voice cracked at the outrage and ignominity.

"Indeed they have." said the figure.

"This cannot be! I must go, I must gather the true faithful. We must destroy this pretender! I have to-

"They are dead, Wendell. All dead. As is - your God."

Wendell fell back onto his hands and knees. He couldn't speak.

"I harbor a similar outrage to yours. And I can do - well, very little. Because what you want is not possible. We cannot take back the power that was stolen. There is a new sun now."

He looked up, tears in his eyes. "So what- why have you- what cruelty is this?

"We cannot take it back. Remake the sun in the image we want to see it. We cannot restore him to his power, but that does not mean that his power is the only option. And...as it happens..."

The figure reached forwards, fingers open. Sitting in his palm was a small, transparent spider, which began to grow.
Ancálimon y Festaer y Helyanwe, Alchemist
Azael Bannon, Telefret High Mage
Fox, Shaman of the Tsimshian

It's only a game.

Return to “Other Places”

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest