Post by Wil Frozendagger on Nov 2, 2022 18:11:10 GMT
Takes place after Secrets of the Fourteenth, featuring the amazing Ian as the aboleth
It was a slow walk from Portal Plaza to the Three Headed Dragon. The man dragged his heels against the ground as if in a daze, not quite knowing what to make of anything. He had been ready for many eventualities; a happy reunion, a succession crisis, the possibility that once again, all his family perished leaving him behind. But this... This was far off the mark. Behind that realisation was the cold truth that Wil knew even less about his family than he thought he did. He dropped his things in his room and made a small realisation. Maybe he didn't know, but there was one who just might.
"You." he called out to the ether. "'Black Flood' seems right your street, doesn't it?"
Take care how you speak, Frozendagger. the voice answers in myriads of languages, all at once. The threat is plain to understand even in those he does not recognize.
I usually enjoy watching you fumble in the dark, but this is no simple thing you invoke. This is a being beyond your comprehension. You will show respect.
"Funny, respect has never been your style til now. If it's so beyond my comprehension, fill me in. Am I not owed that much?"
He tries to disguise it but Wil is perturbed by callous nature of his patron dropping.
You are neither owed, nor do you deserve. You are an instrument of my will, lest you forget. Did I not gift you with freedom? The voice rumbles, the tone swinging between mocking and indignant.
But a tool needs a purpose, and your value to me may grow when fertilized with knowledge. What do you want to know?
"What is it? What is its objective? And what would gain from contracting with it?"
Wil thinks to himself for a little more.
"And that... thing that calls itself my cousin. She said she was offering 'perspective'. What did she mean by that?"
The Black Flood is a being both ancient and glorious. Legend among my kind is that the Flood may be among our progenitors. It was there when the usurpers you call "gods" fought and displaced us. But the Black Flood has not been observed for eons. It's return is... interesting. I am expecting you to find out more. Suffice it to say that it's goals likely include the reclamation of our rightful place of dominance across the material plane and others.
The voice rumbles on, and the sense of pride, respect and fear reverberates inside him among the myriad languages he did and didn't understand.
As for your "relative"... It is a curious case. The Black Flood's thralls are known to be powerful. Ever living, ever dying; The Grateful Drowned. But this was something else. Like you in some way. But more. I suspect it spreads the influence of the Flood. You would not enjoy it's "enlightenment."
There is a pause, as the currents of thought wash over you.
I want it. And the siblings. All of them. You will bring them to me.
"Of course you do." Wil almost chuckled. Just when he thought he no longer knew his patron, there they were, classic.
"I thought it wasn't like you to show reverence, let alone have faith, and yet, your first thought is to take control over it. You're lucky then, that I don't want to just mindlessly murder them. Whatever she is, I can't turn away from the fact that there is definitely a Frozendagger in there. I'll bring them in."
Wil knew that this was going to be messy, but it was the only way to get true answers. And maybe he was hoping beyond hope, but the chance of having family, even if they were all as twisted as Meera, was too much to pass up.
See that you do, Frozendagger. I saved your life for a reason, and it was not only because I so enjoy watching you struggle with your misbegotten sense of compassion. Take care not to trip over it.
The rumbling noise recedes, laughter of a million tongues and voices slowly dying, drowning in the depth of Wil's mind, leaving him alone once again.
Wil contemplated on his strange new family member, if she could be called that. How she strode into the Traverse Master's lair, so effortlessly, without a care. The unnerving kinship he felt with her. And how she almost-
She almost kis-
And Wil almost let her-
He couldn't take it anymore. Wil stumbled into the corner of his room and heaved out the contents of his stomach, the black stained bile coating the floorboards.
Black, like his blood. Like his tears. Like the water Meera dissipated into. But this inspired a strange sense of hope in him. If someone as barely human as he could be accepted, maybe there was a world where she and the other thralls could be too.
Doubtful. But Wil had known adventurers to operate on hope for outcomes far slimmer than this. Perhaps it was his turn. After all this was his responsibility. His mess to clean up.
"The sins of a grandfather are visited upon his grandson, I guess." Wil chuckled to himself, before hacking up a fish bone.
It was a slow walk from Portal Plaza to the Three Headed Dragon. The man dragged his heels against the ground as if in a daze, not quite knowing what to make of anything. He had been ready for many eventualities; a happy reunion, a succession crisis, the possibility that once again, all his family perished leaving him behind. But this... This was far off the mark. Behind that realisation was the cold truth that Wil knew even less about his family than he thought he did. He dropped his things in his room and made a small realisation. Maybe he didn't know, but there was one who just might.
"You." he called out to the ether. "'Black Flood' seems right your street, doesn't it?"
Take care how you speak, Frozendagger. the voice answers in myriads of languages, all at once. The threat is plain to understand even in those he does not recognize.
I usually enjoy watching you fumble in the dark, but this is no simple thing you invoke. This is a being beyond your comprehension. You will show respect.
"Funny, respect has never been your style til now. If it's so beyond my comprehension, fill me in. Am I not owed that much?"
He tries to disguise it but Wil is perturbed by callous nature of his patron dropping.
You are neither owed, nor do you deserve. You are an instrument of my will, lest you forget. Did I not gift you with freedom? The voice rumbles, the tone swinging between mocking and indignant.
But a tool needs a purpose, and your value to me may grow when fertilized with knowledge. What do you want to know?
"What is it? What is its objective? And what would gain from contracting with it?"
Wil thinks to himself for a little more.
"And that... thing that calls itself my cousin. She said she was offering 'perspective'. What did she mean by that?"
The Black Flood is a being both ancient and glorious. Legend among my kind is that the Flood may be among our progenitors. It was there when the usurpers you call "gods" fought and displaced us. But the Black Flood has not been observed for eons. It's return is... interesting. I am expecting you to find out more. Suffice it to say that it's goals likely include the reclamation of our rightful place of dominance across the material plane and others.
The voice rumbles on, and the sense of pride, respect and fear reverberates inside him among the myriad languages he did and didn't understand.
As for your "relative"... It is a curious case. The Black Flood's thralls are known to be powerful. Ever living, ever dying; The Grateful Drowned. But this was something else. Like you in some way. But more. I suspect it spreads the influence of the Flood. You would not enjoy it's "enlightenment."
There is a pause, as the currents of thought wash over you.
I want it. And the siblings. All of them. You will bring them to me.
"Of course you do." Wil almost chuckled. Just when he thought he no longer knew his patron, there they were, classic.
"I thought it wasn't like you to show reverence, let alone have faith, and yet, your first thought is to take control over it. You're lucky then, that I don't want to just mindlessly murder them. Whatever she is, I can't turn away from the fact that there is definitely a Frozendagger in there. I'll bring them in."
Wil knew that this was going to be messy, but it was the only way to get true answers. And maybe he was hoping beyond hope, but the chance of having family, even if they were all as twisted as Meera, was too much to pass up.
See that you do, Frozendagger. I saved your life for a reason, and it was not only because I so enjoy watching you struggle with your misbegotten sense of compassion. Take care not to trip over it.
The rumbling noise recedes, laughter of a million tongues and voices slowly dying, drowning in the depth of Wil's mind, leaving him alone once again.
Wil contemplated on his strange new family member, if she could be called that. How she strode into the Traverse Master's lair, so effortlessly, without a care. The unnerving kinship he felt with her. And how she almost-
She almost kis-
And Wil almost let her-
He couldn't take it anymore. Wil stumbled into the corner of his room and heaved out the contents of his stomach, the black stained bile coating the floorboards.
Black, like his blood. Like his tears. Like the water Meera dissipated into. But this inspired a strange sense of hope in him. If someone as barely human as he could be accepted, maybe there was a world where she and the other thralls could be too.
Doubtful. But Wil had known adventurers to operate on hope for outcomes far slimmer than this. Perhaps it was his turn. After all this was his responsibility. His mess to clean up.
"The sins of a grandfather are visited upon his grandson, I guess." Wil chuckled to himself, before hacking up a fish bone.
