The Shadowfell

[lysoke]

Shadowfell

During the early, blue dawn of the morning, a hole opens in the Material Plane. The energy hums no differently than it had in the facility in Duplicity that had brought them here in the first place. This time, however, just before breaching the glowing white surface of light, a chill greets those who pass through. One, two, three, four shadows step through the light before it closes with barely a pop of energy beside the austere white marble of the recently recast temple.

Waiting on the other side of the gate is a land of barren monochrome. Plants like ash, rivers with the consistency of blood, and pools of thick, dripping ichor decorate a land of black and grey stone that connects to an equally grey sky. The life, like the color, seems gone from the land, and where there should have been unearthly silence, there were low murmurs and ominous creaks and noises that didn't quite make sense at the periphery of everything.

The landscape, at least, could not be called flat. Great, black mountains broke the dim, grey sky like blotches of ink on canvas. Even the group of armed visitors stood now upon a tall, but sloping hill marked with a single, gnarled tree. At the foot of the hill, ahead of the group, sat the hazy, black scar of what was once a city.

Spires of buildings stood as broken bones in the place Melvaunt had as its mirror, with the shattered docks even dipping into a charcoal ocean beyond it. Maléfell, once a town inhabited and infested in equal measure with ghosts, gasts, dopplegangers, and malice, now festers with a malevolent haze that visibly shrouds the city. At its edges, just outside the haze, is a pulsating mass. It's upon closer inspection that the mass gains definition: bodies. Undead. Skeletons. Ghosts haunting black ooze and rotted corpses that press at the Darkland's edges, daring to neither venture in nor go too far from their home.

Hundreds of the displaced mill about, gorging on more of the black ichor that fills the waterways into the city. Here they wait, trapped, the sounds of them muffled and nearly silent in the blanketing nothing of the Plane around them.

♥

Comments

[chrisisofaith]

“As long as you’re not guiding people around the area, no one would question it. Especially with two well trained hounds at your call. Little Thunder can come with me or Amelia without notice and Poppet can be a summoned familiar.”

It made terrible sense and he still felt ridiculous that they’d went for outright lies first. Duplicity indeed.

He adds some meat to the broth and starts the rest searing.

What bits he’d set aside for most of the animals he divides and sets to delivering.

“Food will be ready soon, should serve us fine for lunch and dinner. If we’re leaving tomorrow, I recommend making it into town by morning, no later than ten. I also…would like to know what day it is. I’m sure it’s still Alturiak, but I confess I don’t remember what date it should have been when we arrived.”

[rogueinladysclothing]

Amelia's cheeks darken several shades, but she says nothing to Wolfe's comment. She can't let him win completely by answering him and possibly letting the others hear and see how much more flustered she gets in the process.

Dreams, she's going to need to steal him away later if she's going to keep any amount of composure whenever he looks her direction. She's missed the way he does this to her.

She exhales slowly and forces her blush down as she looks over at Chris and then between Wolfe and Jon. "I can figure out the date easily once we're in town without anyone being the wiser about it. Are we set on going tomorrow? I'd prefer the day after, but if there's a need to move now instead of later, my vote can be overruled by the rest."

If it means staying awake now to get as much of the repairs, mending, and alterations that need to be done complete before she inevitably falls asleep earlier than she wants, she only need to know. Her preference doesn't change what may be best for their group as a whole and she's fine with having to move sooner than she wants.

[compellingstatement]

The romantic overtures between Wolfe and Amelia have Jon looking toward Chris. It makes sense to wait, to not shackle Chris to a potential husk, but they're already bound together. His thoughts turn to the Sonom crest, to the tattoo that lets him know where Chris is, to the fair in Duplicity and so many other things they'd done and said in their years together there.

In the end, though, it's not something he really deserves until it can be real, until he can be more than just a burden to everyone here. That means studying like it's final exam season at university. All day, every day. Writing and practicing his Common, other languages, coming up with some clever thing they can offer the goddess of magic in return for weaving them into the fabric of this reality as the Raven Queen had tethered their souls. He needs to be better before he can call Chris that.

To Chris' suggestion for the animals, he offers a small nod and keeps it to that.

"We still have most of today. I told Wolfe and Chris while you were out I'd, uh... well, I'd prefer to keep our momentum. What we did in the Shadowfell was good. Progress. We don't know how long Wolfe and I have before our native abilities start to fade. You'll forgive me the rush, but I'd like to be able to assist with any tasks we're set to."

[wolfehawke]

"Yes," Wolfe sort of just generally agrees to that, sobering some. His arms remain full of Amelia and he hugs her to him a little tighter. They need to talk about that in the context of marriage, but he stands by what he said about needing to rest first. It's not something to approach with tired minds and he's still not sure if his having used magic in the Shadowfell cut his time by minutes or days. It was a spell he's done many times before, but it was still a big one for the desperation he put into it to keep Jon from harm.

"After lunch I can help with some of the mending, if that's alright with you, love? I'm not a neat tailor by any means but it'll get the job done for now, and I think I'm capable of studying Common while sewing. Might be better at it for the split attention, honestly," he squeezes her again and looks over at Chris. "I don't want to lose the ability to talk to any of you."

[chrisisofaith]

Chris offers both Jon and Wolfe gentle smiles when he catches their eyes in turn. To Amelia, he nods, his smile faint but present.

“For my part, I’m happy to stay or move on, but I admit to leaning towards heading out sooner over later to get our feet a bit more under us. While I know it’s not my fault, I still did not intend for us to lack even the barest basics while starting our lives here.”

If it weren’t for their combined skills and his magic, they would have had a much harder time. They might have needed to throw themselves at someone’s mercy entirely. As it is, arriving before Gideon with some plan and gold in hand would feel infinitely more comfortable than nothing at all.

“Another couple minutes and lunch will be ready, loves. Then I mean it: I’m going to lay down a while.” Possibly a long while. The shower helped, but he hadn’t expended this much magic since the incident with the pit…or maybe since he and Jon had held Grayson for a week. He was out of practice scraping the depths of his limits. He had a feeling he’d get used to this feeling again soon enough.