Once cloaked in a wall of ancient and powerful wards, patrolled by mystical clouds of fog, leading travellers and others away from its presence. A towering fortress of oak and stone, held together with twisting vines and amber stones. This was known as the Amber Asylum, a horrid and secretive palace of mystery and danger. It is the prison of the worst kind of
Fae, ones who seek to revel in destruction or selfishly destroy the circle of life in exchange for their own malevolent motives.
However, as time wanes and the rising of the sun and moons fly by, so does the magics that held together both its defences and prisoners. It's foggy mist, impenetrable, even for the most powerful of Fae-Kind, now wax and wane, tearing away to reveal more and more of the Asylum. There were once tales that such place would often times move in different places, to never remain in one place at a time for so long as to avoid detection. But now it soon finalised its position, Eastwards of the Ixchtel Wilds.
As days go by and more of its magics vanishes though the passage of time, one such cell begins to weaken. It's occupant, as ancient as the Asylum itself, almost built for the purpose of keeping the individual imprisoned. Their tear-drop shaped amber chrysalis, built to keep the Fae's power within and to place them in a deep sleep. But now, this twisted Fae has slowly begun to reawaken once more.
An exposed hand, rotten and decayed beyond regal compare, it's skeletal remains now flushed with fell powers that wiggle and writhe, twisting between the bones and fingers of the being. Overtime, these slithering powers began to slither towards the ground, finding weak points in the Asylum before burrowing though and infesting themselves into the nearby forest.
Constricting and binding themselves in the forest, trees and undergrowth. Their venom poisoning the fertile land, corrupting it with their venom as the territory begins to warp and change, forcefully taking a new form. spine tickling horrors begin to emerge from the entangled roots and poisoned woods of the forest, spider like appendages growing outwards from the base of the trunks and oaks of the forest, grasping at the air like toddler arms. They've produced themselves a thick coat of silken strains and webs, chocking the air in its entrapping thralls as the land continues to lose itself.
But this was only the start of this horrid nightmare, as large spiders began to appear, growing in both size and numbers as the land continues to become populated by this
mysterious, yet evil magic. They chitter and scribe with horrible whispers of hunger, patrolling their new home with vicious vigor and ferocity. They speak in their own tongue, in hushed tones they plot and devour the fauna of the territory, draining it all of natural life as the silk continues to choke away the natural order, infesting itself like a parasite. Leeching and killing all that stand in its path.
However, of course, such horrid power would never be ignored by the Fae Courts, as it continues to seep its ill-fueled pus of spinneret killers and corrupting magics, action would inevitably be taken to oppose such a threat. But from whom?
But the question still remains where such beings come from, where this evil originated? Only time will tell, and only the brave, or selfless, and perhaps even foolish, will choose to partake in this gratifying, yet horrifying quest to cease this blight, once and for all. But still... They still sleep, only just barely...
However, as time wanes and the rising of the sun and moons fly by, so does the magics that held together both its defences and prisoners. It's foggy mist, impenetrable, even for the most powerful of Fae-Kind, now wax and wane, tearing away to reveal more and more of the Asylum. There were once tales that such place would often times move in different places, to never remain in one place at a time for so long as to avoid detection. But now it soon finalised its position, Eastwards of the Ixchtel Wilds.
As days go by and more of its magics vanishes though the passage of time, one such cell begins to weaken. It's occupant, as ancient as the Asylum itself, almost built for the purpose of keeping the individual imprisoned. Their tear-drop shaped amber chrysalis, built to keep the Fae's power within and to place them in a deep sleep. But now, this twisted Fae has slowly begun to reawaken once more.
An exposed hand, rotten and decayed beyond regal compare, it's skeletal remains now flushed with fell powers that wiggle and writhe, twisting between the bones and fingers of the being. Overtime, these slithering powers began to slither towards the ground, finding weak points in the Asylum before burrowing though and infesting themselves into the nearby forest.
Constricting and binding themselves in the forest, trees and undergrowth. Their venom poisoning the fertile land, corrupting it with their venom as the territory begins to warp and change, forcefully taking a new form. spine tickling horrors begin to emerge from the entangled roots and poisoned woods of the forest, spider like appendages growing outwards from the base of the trunks and oaks of the forest, grasping at the air like toddler arms. They've produced themselves a thick coat of silken strains and webs, chocking the air in its entrapping thralls as the land continues to lose itself.
But this was only the start of this horrid nightmare, as large spiders began to appear, growing in both size and numbers as the land continues to become populated by this
However, of course, such horrid power would never be ignored by the Fae Courts, as it continues to seep its ill-fueled pus of spinneret killers and corrupting magics, action would inevitably be taken to oppose such a threat. But from whom?
But the question still remains where such beings come from, where this evil originated? Only time will tell, and only the brave, or selfless, and perhaps even foolish, will choose to partake in this gratifying, yet horrifying quest to cease this blight, once and for all. But still... They still sleep, only just barely...
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