- Messages
- 2
Open Chronicles "Wrong"
- Thread starter demonz-r-us
- Start date
A roleplay open for anyone to join
Vorath Hiendakre
Member
- Messages
- 1
The fog hung low over the western marshlands, curling through the reeds like smoke from a long-dead fire. Morning light struggled to pierce the mist, casting the shallow waters in a pale gray glow.
From that gloom, a figure emerged. Pale as bleached bone, draped in a dark cloak that seemed to drink the light around it. He moved with measured, deliberate steps, the weight of centuries in his posture, though his face could have belonged to any man in his late thirties.
The locals called him a shadow-walker, a ghost of stories told to scare children. They did not know him. They did not understand that he was Arethilian born, not from some distant or forbidden realm. Born of the Null Womb beneath the Infernal Maw, yes—but part of the same world they lived in, shaped by the same despair, the same darkness that festered in human hearts.
Vorath Hiendakre paused at the edge of the marsh, planting his Taffeg into the mud. The staff-like object pulsed faintly, its energy contained and deliberate—enough to stir fear, to mark the land, but not enough to tear Alliria apart.
He spoke, his voice layered like two echoes in one:
"The marsh has grown restless. So have I."
The reeds shifted as though answering him. He did not call forth fire or storm. He did not command armies of demons—at least, not yet. What he did was simpler, subtler: he observed, tested, and waited. Every traveler, every villager, every careless soul stepping too close might find themselves caught in a web of curses, pacts, or quiet terror.
And yet, there was an invitation in his presence. Anyone bold—or foolish—enough to enter the marsh might meet him. They might bargain, fight, flee… or perhaps learn, in whispers, why life in Arethil could be so fragile.
Vorath’s dark eyes scanned the horizon, lingering on the faint glimmer of distant villages. A smile, almost imperceptible, brushed his lips.
"Let us see who dares to step closer."
(Here are some easy hooks if you’re looking for a reason to enter the scene:
Passing Through the Marsh:
Your character is traveling the western routes near Alliria and notices the fog behaving strangely, or hears whispers carried on the wind.
Villager Seeking Help:
Someone from a nearby settlement is investigating missing livestock, strange lights, or curses spreading around farms and homes.
Hunter or Ranger:
You’re tracking an injured creature or bandit into the marsh—only to find Vorath instead.
Mage or Scholar:
You detect an unusual but contained magical disturbance in the area and come to study or challenge its source.
Mercenary or Sellsword:
A local offers coin for someone brave enough to figure out what’s happening in the marshlands.
Cleric or Priest:
You feel a spiritual disturbance—something dark but not overwhelming—and follow it into the fog.
Rogue or Thief:
You heard rumors that someone in the marsh carries a strange artifact (the Taffeg), and curiosity or greed drives you forward.
Monster or Creature:
The subtle magic Vorath releases draws you like a scent trail; you approach to investigate, bargain, or challenge him.
A Curious Wanderer:
Your character simply sees someone strange standing in a forbidden patch of marsh and decides that’s worth a closer look.
Looking for Shelter:
The weather worsens, and the marsh offers the only cover—bringing your character directly into Vorath’s path.)
From that gloom, a figure emerged. Pale as bleached bone, draped in a dark cloak that seemed to drink the light around it. He moved with measured, deliberate steps, the weight of centuries in his posture, though his face could have belonged to any man in his late thirties.
The locals called him a shadow-walker, a ghost of stories told to scare children. They did not know him. They did not understand that he was Arethilian born, not from some distant or forbidden realm. Born of the Null Womb beneath the Infernal Maw, yes—but part of the same world they lived in, shaped by the same despair, the same darkness that festered in human hearts.
Vorath Hiendakre paused at the edge of the marsh, planting his Taffeg into the mud. The staff-like object pulsed faintly, its energy contained and deliberate—enough to stir fear, to mark the land, but not enough to tear Alliria apart.
He spoke, his voice layered like two echoes in one:
"The marsh has grown restless. So have I."
The reeds shifted as though answering him. He did not call forth fire or storm. He did not command armies of demons—at least, not yet. What he did was simpler, subtler: he observed, tested, and waited. Every traveler, every villager, every careless soul stepping too close might find themselves caught in a web of curses, pacts, or quiet terror.
And yet, there was an invitation in his presence. Anyone bold—or foolish—enough to enter the marsh might meet him. They might bargain, fight, flee… or perhaps learn, in whispers, why life in Arethil could be so fragile.
Vorath’s dark eyes scanned the horizon, lingering on the faint glimmer of distant villages. A smile, almost imperceptible, brushed his lips.
"Let us see who dares to step closer."
(Here are some easy hooks if you’re looking for a reason to enter the scene:
Passing Through the Marsh:
Your character is traveling the western routes near Alliria and notices the fog behaving strangely, or hears whispers carried on the wind.
Villager Seeking Help:
Someone from a nearby settlement is investigating missing livestock, strange lights, or curses spreading around farms and homes.
Hunter or Ranger:
You’re tracking an injured creature or bandit into the marsh—only to find Vorath instead.
Mage or Scholar:
You detect an unusual but contained magical disturbance in the area and come to study or challenge its source.
Mercenary or Sellsword:
A local offers coin for someone brave enough to figure out what’s happening in the marshlands.
Cleric or Priest:
You feel a spiritual disturbance—something dark but not overwhelming—and follow it into the fog.
Rogue or Thief:
You heard rumors that someone in the marsh carries a strange artifact (the Taffeg), and curiosity or greed drives you forward.
Monster or Creature:
The subtle magic Vorath releases draws you like a scent trail; you approach to investigate, bargain, or challenge him.
A Curious Wanderer:
Your character simply sees someone strange standing in a forbidden patch of marsh and decides that’s worth a closer look.
Looking for Shelter:
The weather worsens, and the marsh offers the only cover—bringing your character directly into Vorath’s path.)