You can never win
You only get out
By not going in
They put me down into the ground
Lost without taste, without sound
Beneath the barren mound
They put me in a place they call
Eighth Lock
A simple but telling nursery rhyme, used for centuries to scare children-human and magical alike away from a life of crime. Very little gave the existence of such a prison fleeting thought- few had truly heard confirmation of its existence. Even fewer had lived to tell tales of life inside of the terrifying structure.
A large quarry of rocks sat moss covered and protruding in the remote ocean, appearing uninhabited aside from a fortified tower that rested tall and lonesome over the rocky little island. While appearing desolate and remotely located, experienced travelers both magical and human had been known to mistakenly pilot their ships through 'Rifts' or other portals resulting in a steady stream of passing vessels just off of Eighth Locks coast. None dared stop- a warning painted on the tower's midsection consisting of an eyeball crying blood- remindinh those who accidentally travel by it to mind their own business. The rocky Isle had no docks, nor any surface structure other than the tower to speak of.. hinting that more laid under the surface.
The floating eyeball is to be feared
The pupil hides a maw
They say that children run this place
That's how they missed the fatal
flaw
(HI guys! This is my first crack at managing a quest, so I figured I'd do something different and have it take place in a prison. I'm going for darker, more tormented themes so please try and keep that in mind before you post. Right now, we're OPEN so just go for it! If we get going steady, I'll close off when I feel we've got a good momentum going.)
You only get out
By not going in
They put me down into the ground
Lost without taste, without sound
Beneath the barren mound
They put me in a place they call
Eighth Lock
A simple but telling nursery rhyme, used for centuries to scare children-human and magical alike away from a life of crime. Very little gave the existence of such a prison fleeting thought- few had truly heard confirmation of its existence. Even fewer had lived to tell tales of life inside of the terrifying structure.
A large quarry of rocks sat moss covered and protruding in the remote ocean, appearing uninhabited aside from a fortified tower that rested tall and lonesome over the rocky little island. While appearing desolate and remotely located, experienced travelers both magical and human had been known to mistakenly pilot their ships through 'Rifts' or other portals resulting in a steady stream of passing vessels just off of Eighth Locks coast. None dared stop- a warning painted on the tower's midsection consisting of an eyeball crying blood- remindinh those who accidentally travel by it to mind their own business. The rocky Isle had no docks, nor any surface structure other than the tower to speak of.. hinting that more laid under the surface.
The floating eyeball is to be feared
The pupil hides a maw
They say that children run this place
That's how they missed the fatal
flaw
(HI guys! This is my first crack at managing a quest, so I figured I'd do something different and have it take place in a prison. I'm going for darker, more tormented themes so please try and keep that in mind before you post. Right now, we're OPEN so just go for it! If we get going steady, I'll close off when I feel we've got a good momentum going.)
Every few steps in the dark, Brolin found his bare and cut feet slipping over the rusted and blood-slicked floor. He could see nothing, frequently smashing his nose against walls in the pure unfiltered darkness of what seemed to be an iron maze. Fingernails clawed at the metal wall, body weakly pushing itself back up to his feet.
He'd lost count at seven months.
Through the darkness, the Irishman continued to travel the maze. Every breath was paranoid- unaware of what horrors would greet him in the next level of the mysterious prison. Amid child-like cackles and adult shrieks, a platform in the mid-height ceiling could be heard scraping open. A bucket of chicken-parts tossed down from the hatch before it snapped shut loudly.
Naked aside from a pair of underwear fashioned from blood-soaked scrap fabric, Brolin fell to his knees and began to desperately claw and suck any meat left on the scraps.
Looking left to right in the pitch black, huddling over his food like an animal any time he heard the echoes of another prisoner prowling the hellish maze.
He'd lost count at seven months.
Through the darkness, the Irishman continued to travel the maze. Every breath was paranoid- unaware of what horrors would greet him in the next level of the mysterious prison. Amid child-like cackles and adult shrieks, a platform in the mid-height ceiling could be heard scraping open. A bucket of chicken-parts tossed down from the hatch before it snapped shut loudly.
Naked aside from a pair of underwear fashioned from blood-soaked scrap fabric, Brolin fell to his knees and began to desperately claw and suck any meat left on the scraps.
Looking left to right in the pitch black, huddling over his food like an animal any time he heard the echoes of another prisoner prowling the hellish maze.
((mind if I join?))
Something was wrong. Wylie could sense it even before she opened her eyes, blinking to try and adjust to the dark area around her. Unable to see, she sat up, wrinkling her nose at the putrid smell around her. It reeked of blood and the sound of shrieks and laughter filled the air. Wylie began to panic as she tried to figure out where she was. What did she remember? She sat on the cold iron ground with her head in her hands, trying to remember what had happened.
She remembered running along a dark path, a stolen sword in one hand and a bloodied satchel in the other. She had just finished a spell and although the details were hazy, Wylie remembered that her spell had killed someone, someone important. Then, guards seemed to materialize out of thin air, swords drawn. She easily killed them, her spell blasting them into oblivion before they even had time to speak. After that, she had picked up one of the swords and started to walk away, that is when something started to chase her. She could not remember what it was, only that it had chased her down that dark path. As for what happened next, Wylie could not remember anything.
Wylie lifted her head from her hands, still unable to see the walls around her. She fumbled blindly in the darkness, searching for any of her stuff. As she crawled blindly across the ground, she stuck her hand into a warm, thick liquid which seemed suspiciously like blood. She let out a started gasp, pulling her hand back and wiping it off on her clothes. She was glad to find that she was still wearing her dress from earlier, although the expensive fabric was now filled with holes and covered in that liquid. Standing up, Wylie took a few steps forward before running straight into a wall.
She stumbled backwards, muttering curses under her breath. Holding her hand out in front of her, she concentrated on casting a simple spell. She did not even need to speak as cast the spell and her palm instantly began to emit a dim white glow. It was not very bright, only enough to illuminate the walls near her. She held her hand out, so she could see the walls in front of her. A small sound reached her ears, something that sounded vaguely human. "He..Hello?" She called out, hoping that who ever heard her would be friendly.
Something was wrong. Wylie could sense it even before she opened her eyes, blinking to try and adjust to the dark area around her. Unable to see, she sat up, wrinkling her nose at the putrid smell around her. It reeked of blood and the sound of shrieks and laughter filled the air. Wylie began to panic as she tried to figure out where she was. What did she remember? She sat on the cold iron ground with her head in her hands, trying to remember what had happened.
She remembered running along a dark path, a stolen sword in one hand and a bloodied satchel in the other. She had just finished a spell and although the details were hazy, Wylie remembered that her spell had killed someone, someone important. Then, guards seemed to materialize out of thin air, swords drawn. She easily killed them, her spell blasting them into oblivion before they even had time to speak. After that, she had picked up one of the swords and started to walk away, that is when something started to chase her. She could not remember what it was, only that it had chased her down that dark path. As for what happened next, Wylie could not remember anything.
Wylie lifted her head from her hands, still unable to see the walls around her. She fumbled blindly in the darkness, searching for any of her stuff. As she crawled blindly across the ground, she stuck her hand into a warm, thick liquid which seemed suspiciously like blood. She let out a started gasp, pulling her hand back and wiping it off on her clothes. She was glad to find that she was still wearing her dress from earlier, although the expensive fabric was now filled with holes and covered in that liquid. Standing up, Wylie took a few steps forward before running straight into a wall.
She stumbled backwards, muttering curses under her breath. Holding her hand out in front of her, she concentrated on casting a simple spell. She did not even need to speak as cast the spell and her palm instantly began to emit a dim white glow. It was not very bright, only enough to illuminate the walls near her. She held her hand out, so she could see the walls in front of her. A small sound reached her ears, something that sounded vaguely human. "He..Hello?" She called out, hoping that who ever heard her would be friendly.
(if I may!!)
It had been barely a month. Though Nott had arrived quietly, she'd screamed through her second day ("I don't belong here! Let me out! Damnit, let me out!") but by nightfall her throat had gone hoarse and she'd realized she'd made a fool of herself.
Since then, she'd steered clear of anyone or anything she'd encountered, held her tongue, and quietly pulled at long, tangled hair. Patches of it were already gone. She didn't deserve it. Though she'd been wiping at the blood splattered on for days, it must be days, it still felt sticky and warm.
This place was nightmarish - Nott wasn't yet sure it wasn't hell itself. She didn't like walking through this place, unsure of what lay beneath her feet, but how she hated the cautious shuffle she'd had to develop. I don't belong here, she'd screamed all that time ago. Whenever she got close to accepting the opposite, she'd be forced into this cowardly movement. Just now, she'd heard the hatch open, but dared not move any faster. This isn't how it should be.
It had been barely a month. Though Nott had arrived quietly, she'd screamed through her second day ("I don't belong here! Let me out! Damnit, let me out!") but by nightfall her throat had gone hoarse and she'd realized she'd made a fool of herself.
Since then, she'd steered clear of anyone or anything she'd encountered, held her tongue, and quietly pulled at long, tangled hair. Patches of it were already gone. She didn't deserve it. Though she'd been wiping at the blood splattered on for days, it must be days, it still felt sticky and warm.
This place was nightmarish - Nott wasn't yet sure it wasn't hell itself. She didn't like walking through this place, unsure of what lay beneath her feet, but how she hated the cautious shuffle she'd had to develop. I don't belong here, she'd screamed all that time ago. Whenever she got close to accepting the opposite, she'd be forced into this cowardly movement. Just now, she'd heard the hatch open, but dared not move any faster. This isn't how it should be.
[Mind if I join in?]
"What cruel of a fate for I." Holm muttered as shuffled along. His voice gone from the first few days of 'arriving'. He kept his hand along the walls to guide him,but it had felt that the wall went forever. The sticky warm wet substance was the only thing guaranteed to be there, and it brought the Minotaur no comfort whatsoever. His drum missing, he longed for the ability to make any rhythm that he could sing a low song to. Something that would give him hope, even if it was false. But it seemed that the rusted prison sapped his ability to create rhythm, muted his thoughts and gave not even a glimpse of to chase after.
'What had happened?' Holm attempted to remember in efforts to dull his senses to his surroundings as he walked. A moment of thinking gave no answer. He could not remember. Not properly at least. The Minotaur snorted and huffed in frustration at his own inability to remember anything about how he got here, or why he was here. To him, this place was hell, and if it wasn't, it sure was close to it.
A sound. Someone, or something. It did not match the cackles and shrieks from before. Head lifted in a failing attempt to see past the darkness; Holm walked towards the noise.
"What cruel of a fate for I." Holm muttered as shuffled along. His voice gone from the first few days of 'arriving'. He kept his hand along the walls to guide him,but it had felt that the wall went forever. The sticky warm wet substance was the only thing guaranteed to be there, and it brought the Minotaur no comfort whatsoever. His drum missing, he longed for the ability to make any rhythm that he could sing a low song to. Something that would give him hope, even if it was false. But it seemed that the rusted prison sapped his ability to create rhythm, muted his thoughts and gave not even a glimpse of to chase after.
'What had happened?' Holm attempted to remember in efforts to dull his senses to his surroundings as he walked. A moment of thinking gave no answer. He could not remember. Not properly at least. The Minotaur snorted and huffed in frustration at his own inability to remember anything about how he got here, or why he was here. To him, this place was hell, and if it wasn't, it sure was close to it.
A sound. Someone, or something. It did not match the cackles and shrieks from before. Head lifted in a failing attempt to see past the darkness; Holm walked towards the noise.
Nothing seemed to respond to Wylie's nervous shout. She was still standing, holding her dim ball of light in front of her face, hoping she could get some answers. She started to walk forward, the hem of her gown dragging across the cold ground as she walk. Moving slowly, she stayed close to the wall, hoping that no one snuck up on her. It did not take her long to recognize that this hellish place was in fact a maze and she found herself getting more and more lost as she walked. Her foot hit something and she fell forward, landing hard on the ground, her light going out.
She groaned as she rolled over onto her back, looking up into the darkness above her. Slowly sitting up, she concentrated on forming her ball of light so she could see what had tripped her. The ball appeared and the dim light spread outward revealing a person, laying on the ground.
Wylie screamed and kicked the person, who fell backwards but did not make any other movements. Catching her breath and beginning to calm down, she moved her hand forward to get a better look at the person. She could see now, that the person was dead. She wanted to scream again but she clasped her hand over her mouth, stifling her shriek. Scrambling backwards from the body, Wylie sat on the ground panicking.
She needed to get out of here. She did not want to die here. Still sitting on the ground, Wylie looked up and started to scream at the top of her lungs "Let me out! Let me go! I don't belong here! Please." She begged banging her fist on the bloody wall, pleading for someone to help her.
She groaned as she rolled over onto her back, looking up into the darkness above her. Slowly sitting up, she concentrated on forming her ball of light so she could see what had tripped her. The ball appeared and the dim light spread outward revealing a person, laying on the ground.
Wylie screamed and kicked the person, who fell backwards but did not make any other movements. Catching her breath and beginning to calm down, she moved her hand forward to get a better look at the person. She could see now, that the person was dead. She wanted to scream again but she clasped her hand over her mouth, stifling her shriek. Scrambling backwards from the body, Wylie sat on the ground panicking.
She needed to get out of here. She did not want to die here. Still sitting on the ground, Wylie looked up and started to scream at the top of her lungs "Let me out! Let me go! I don't belong here! Please." She begged banging her fist on the bloody wall, pleading for someone to help her.
Wylie Glass wrote:
Nothing seemed to respond to Wylie's nervous shout. She was still standing, holding her dim ball of light in front of her face, hoping she could get some answers. She started to walk forward, the hem of her gown dragging across the cold ground as she walk. Moving slowly, she stayed close to the wall, hoping that no one snuck up on her. It did not take her long to recognize that this hellish place was in fact a maze and she found herself getting more and more lost as she walked. Her foot hit something and she fell forward, landing hard on the ground, her light going out.
She groaned as she rolled over onto her back, looking up into the darkness above her. Slowly sitting up, she concentrated on forming her ball of light so she could see what had tripped her. The ball appeared and the dim light spread outward revealing a person, laying on the ground.
Wylie screamed and kicked the person, who fell backwards but did not make any other movements. Catching her breath and beginning to calm down, she moved her hand forward to get a better look at the person. She could see now, that the person was dead. She wanted to scream again but she clasped her hand over her mouth, stifling her shriek. Scrambling backwards from the body, Wylie sat on the ground panicking.
She needed to get out of here. She did not want to die here. Still sitting on the ground, Wylie looked up and started to scream at the top of her lungs "Let me out! Let me go! I don't belong here! Please." She begged banging her fist on the bloody wall, pleading for someone to help her.
She groaned as she rolled over onto her back, looking up into the darkness above her. Slowly sitting up, she concentrated on forming her ball of light so she could see what had tripped her. The ball appeared and the dim light spread outward revealing a person, laying on the ground.
Wylie screamed and kicked the person, who fell backwards but did not make any other movements. Catching her breath and beginning to calm down, she moved her hand forward to get a better look at the person. She could see now, that the person was dead. She wanted to scream again but she clasped her hand over her mouth, stifling her shriek. Scrambling backwards from the body, Wylie sat on the ground panicking.
She needed to get out of here. She did not want to die here. Still sitting on the ground, Wylie looked up and started to scream at the top of her lungs "Let me out! Let me go! I don't belong here! Please." She begged banging her fist on the bloody wall, pleading for someone to help her.
A voice? Screaming and pleading. Holm's slow shuffle went from a walk into a run. He kept his hand out towards the wall to help guide his path. Hope of another person was driving him forward. Someone else in this hellhole, someone to talk to even. He slowed down after a moment, breathing heavily to catch his breath, he no longer heard the voice. Was it even real?
"Damnit." The Minotaur cursed in between breaths. But then he saw it. A light further down the corridor. Holm went into a lighter shuffle as he traveled towards it. He got closer and closer until he tripped and fell over something on the ground. He fell with a large thud and he could swear he was bleeding on his chin. He pushed himself onto his back with a huff and stayed in that position taking several deep breaths.
Amidst her panic shouts, she heard something hit the ground near her. Instinctively, she closed her palm, shattering the ball of light and returning to the complete darkness. Trying to not make a sound, she held her breath but could hear the sound of deep breaths not far from her. Something was here. Something alive.
Wylie did not want to die down here. She had no idea whether the person near her was a friend or foe, and she did not want to wait to find out. Concentrating, she held up her palm and summoned a small, razor sharp dagger from out of thin air. Armed with a weapon, she crept towards the sound of the breathing, trying not to make a sound.
The witch could tell that she was close to the other person. She could sense his energy, his life force. She remained silent before lunging forward and pressing her dagger against the person's exposed throat. Using her other hand, she conjured a ball of light and held it right in front of the creatures eyes. "Don't move or I will kill you." She hissed, pushing the dagger against his throat menacingly. Her face was emotionless and her purple eyes looked cold. She recognized this creature, he was a minotaur. Interesting. "Who are you?" she said quietly, her voice threatening.
Wylie did not want to die down here. She had no idea whether the person near her was a friend or foe, and she did not want to wait to find out. Concentrating, she held up her palm and summoned a small, razor sharp dagger from out of thin air. Armed with a weapon, she crept towards the sound of the breathing, trying not to make a sound.
The witch could tell that she was close to the other person. She could sense his energy, his life force. She remained silent before lunging forward and pressing her dagger against the person's exposed throat. Using her other hand, she conjured a ball of light and held it right in front of the creatures eyes. "Don't move or I will kill you." She hissed, pushing the dagger against his throat menacingly. Her face was emotionless and her purple eyes looked cold. She recognized this creature, he was a minotaur. Interesting. "Who are you?" she said quietly, her voice threatening.
Holm took the moment to rest, he had been unaware of how tired he was from constantly moving. But it was a moment too long.
The wind rushed and a sharp object was at his throat. He shut his eyes, blinded for a moment by the ball of light. Upon opening his eyes again, he recognized that it was a blade and a human threatening his life. He grimaced as he spoke.
"Holm Stormbringer." The minotaur laid tense ready to move, clenching his hands into fists. Even if he was cut, he would have a moment to fight back before bleeding out and. If he was going to die, it would be fighting and his eyes portrayed that emotion of the strange calm anger.
The wind rushed and a sharp object was at his throat. He shut his eyes, blinded for a moment by the ball of light. Upon opening his eyes again, he recognized that it was a blade and a human threatening his life. He grimaced as he spoke.
"Holm Stormbringer." The minotaur laid tense ready to move, clenching his hands into fists. Even if he was cut, he would have a moment to fight back before bleeding out and. If he was going to die, it would be fighting and his eyes portrayed that emotion of the strange calm anger.
Her expression remained emotionless as the minotaur spoke. She had no intention of killing him, but she could not risk him attacking her. At least, not until she knew what was going on.
"Where are we?" She asked, shifting the blade slightly so that there was less pressure on Holm's throat but so she could still kill him if necessary.
She probably looked completely insane, with blood smeared on her face and hands, and her usually perfect hair clumped up in knots. The only thing that looked untouched was the necklace that dangled from her neck, which seemed to swirl and emit a dull red color.
"And..and what is going on?" her added, hoping that she could finally get some answers.
"Where are we?" She asked, shifting the blade slightly so that there was less pressure on Holm's throat but so she could still kill him if necessary.
She probably looked completely insane, with blood smeared on her face and hands, and her usually perfect hair clumped up in knots. The only thing that looked untouched was the necklace that dangled from her neck, which seemed to swirl and emit a dull red color.
"And..and what is going on?" her added, hoping that she could finally get some answers.
"I can ask you the same thing for I do not know." He dared not move from his position. "I have not been here for long and wish for escape. Something I assume you want as well." Holm's short fur and hair was slicked with blood, his normally clean horns tipped with drying blood. He couldn't help but bring his attention to her necklace, entranced by it making it difficult to hold the same anger he had a moment before. The minotaur always had difficulty showing anger. It almost as if he wasn't serious as his clenched fists relaxed.
She sighed and moved her dagger away from his throat. Holm's did not know anything about this strange maze. She took a few steps away from him, being careful not to trip over the dead body again. She held the ball of light so that she could see the walls around her in the dim light. She still held her dagger, ready in case the minotaur tried to attack her.
"Well you would be correct." She said, doing her best to maintain her perfect posture and regal behavior, even in this hellish maze.
"I am sorry for attacking you. I thought you were a threat." Although she apologized, her voice did not sound sincere and her expression showed no emotion at all. "My name is Wylie. Wylie Glass. Perhaps we could work together to escape this place."
"Well you would be correct." She said, doing her best to maintain her perfect posture and regal behavior, even in this hellish maze.
"I am sorry for attacking you. I thought you were a threat." Although she apologized, her voice did not sound sincere and her expression showed no emotion at all. "My name is Wylie. Wylie Glass. Perhaps we could work together to escape this place."
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