AntiMatter101
2012-12-29, 02:24 AM
Author's Notes: (you can skip this.)This thread of mine died long ago, and I am editing this post so that I may link to it from an outside wiki. The information found in this post exists elsewhere, but spread through several posts. I am going through this trouble so that it all can be found in one place, and the structure I had originally given the Ascention Quest can be more easily visable.
Simply editing this post should not bump the thread, I believe. Please, nobody post here.
The portions of fragments; remnants of Mortan.
A thought, floating in the dark.
A rhyme, the last of its kind.
A phrase, never uttered among the living.
A bout of Laughter suppressed.
A criticism unvoiced.
A dark humor.
Ignored.
Silent.
Apart.
Unchained.
Drifting.
Free.
Dying.
~
~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~
~
Changing.
The raw chaos bled into reality nearby, the effect reaching some distance beyond the rift it came from. The fragments began to fuse; the partitions between them fading, melting from the low-level chaotic energies. As they drifted closer to the rift, the chaos continued to change them, forming something more than the sum of its parts.
-----------------
-----------------
Living.
A consciousness, aware of itself, was floating in nothing. It was still fluid, barely holding sentience together. Staying together was growing easier, but increasingly its mind was being pulled apart at the seams. It perceived reality around it, and increasingly sensed the not-reality it was approaching. Its sudden realization: the non-reality would tear it apart! Full of fear, it accelerated backwards into the safety of reality.
-----------------
-----------------
Growing.
Slowly, its mind solidified in the void. The hazard of its cradle left behind, the safety of the ever-present void was all that it had. The senses matured. It could see the lights from the beyond, thankfully much farther away than before. Floating in the void, identity began to take shape. He did not know where he was, or who he was, but he did know he was getting stronger.
-----------------
-----------------
Learning.
There was nothing to do in the void but think, and grow. He could sense the edge of the Gear Works now, intuitively knowing it was a threat to him just as the Beyond was. Yet the world was not all danger. Nothing was safe. Nothing was gentle. Nothing had nothing to do.
-----------------
-----------------
Seeking.
The search for meaning. The search for companionship. The search for entertainment and life and love and joy. Through the void he sped, hither and fro, looking yet not seeing, listening but not hearing. Surely the void could not be all of reality! Surely there was more to life than death and the void!
==========
Finding.
The search was a failure, yet he found what he was looking for. It was with him all along! The void, he now discovered, he could bend, shape, and mold. He could wrap himself in it, feel its embrace, and lose himself in the folds of reality, in catatonic bliss.
==========
Embracing.
There was no need for things, for others, the void was his entertainment, his companion. He was his own meaning. He was his own context; what more did he need?
In bliss he floated aimlessly through reality.
==========
A wanderer.
A planet, a piece of something, snuck up on him. He roused from embracing the void to find something else, something new. It occurred to him that he had searched for a long time and had not sensed this thing before. The realization sparked mirth, in a new way. He descended to the planet, yet the void could not follow him no matter how he tried. He mourned leaving the void, yet this was far too interesting to turn back. Thusly he entered Gaia.
==========
A thriving contradiction.
An entity without a form, he explored the air, his thoughts bringing him down to where the wind raked through the leaves of forest trees. He tumbled through to the floor of the forest, sensing with fascination as the last lights of day trickled through the canopy. He played among the shadows as they deepened, and he discovered it! The Shadows felt like the void, both were like the absence of something, yet still reality. He twisted the shadows to his whim, and they bent willingly, unlike the resistant void. Out of them, he formed a body, amorphous blob though it was. Embedding himself in this form he explored this exciting new place.
He roamed the forest, sensing small birds and mice as he went. He pounced on them, curiously absorbing them to analyze them, and figure out what they possibly could be. In a stroke of genius, he formed eyes from his form, and he saw. The blob of shadows sprouted wings and flew away.
==========
A seeker of new sights.
Cresting the top of a cliff at long last, he looked out across an expanse of ocean, and breathed in the salty air. Gazing across the sea, he could sense the sharks below, even if he could not see them. Watching them tear apart their prey, and even each other, was simply fascinating.
He journeyed to the jungle, where everything seemed bigger. The birds were so much larger, and resembled bats. There were animals just as tall as the trees they ate. He even laid his eyes on a predator, with a mouth so full of sharp teeth. Inspired, he copied the fierce animal, sporting teeth of his own.
Pleased with himself, he took a break for a while and visited the void as he mulled over what he had discovered in this place.
==========
A jester, he who laughs alone.
He giggled as he watched the family of rabbits scurry around, suddenly blind, yet gifted with wings. Their haphazard flights scaring birds from their nests and shattering the expectations of one very confused, and very frightened, wolf. The suddenly sharp fangs of these fluffy white creatures glistened in the light of the sun, though their eyes could no longer see the absurdity of it. It was enough that he could see it; this… abnormality, this… twist in nature, amused him to no end.
As his laugh echoed in the trees, the little family of rabbits squealed to each other in fear, their instincts suddenly useless to them. He stayed to watch only a few more hours before he tired of them and left them to their squabbling. Perhaps they would adapt, perhaps not. He did not dwell on it, for he was already thinking of his next prank.
His next idea involved a tree; he had been inspired by a fly-catching plant earlier, and decided that those large cats needed something new and interesting to rouse them from their lazy slumbers. His laughter was already leaking out, and he had yet to even begin!
==========
A trickster, of those caught unawares.
A creature he had not seen before was walking in his forest. This alone, doomed it. The furred critter stepped unafraid in even the deepest of shadows, moving from food source to food source, while keeping an eye out for dangerous animals; the wrong kind of danger in these parts. A patch of grass gave way underneath its foot, and the critter nearly fell into a dark abyss, saving itself with its tail wrapped around a tree. Chattering in shock, it did not notice that the tree in question had in the meantime been covered in a thick yellow substance that stuck to its fur, which began to blacken and smoke. In a panic, it yanked upon its appendage, not liking the sensation the yellow stuff brought. Upon freeing itself, it found that it was not alone. An orange bird with two heads looked down from high branches in the tree, eyeing it predatorily. It fled for its life, screeching at the top of its tiny little lungs.
The orange bird pursued it halfheartedly, alighting on a high tree branch, and chuckling to itself as the other creatures in this place heard the noise and came to investigate. It watched on in interest, as the new little creature it decided to name ‘monkey’ met its demise at the hands of his other victims. It had put up a fight, showing a cunning that was as amusing as it was superfluous.
In the end it was one of his ‘plants’ that got the kill; a pair of vines that had enveloped the creature and then crushed it, beginning the long process of absorbing it completely. He knew this would have sustained them for a long time, but in the end he decided to light the cocoon of vines on fire anyway. It would not do for them to develop a taste for monkey blood so soon.
This one had died, but there would be more. There always were more, and now their physiology had spawned a few ideas he wanted to play with.
==========
A stalker, watching from the shadows.
His forest teemed with life. Every so often he would eradicate a species he was bored with, and then twist another to fill the gaps it had left. Even this became boring and commonplace. Instead, he began to alter his own form, playing with the possibilities. He had an excellent pool of hunters and hiders to draw from, and he took to prowling in the dark of the trees. Nothing went unseen in that place but him.
He never visited the void anymore. So used he had grown to manipulating the willing shadows, the headstrong void no longer heeded his call. Instead he reveled in the shadows of this world, relaxing in its cool, reassuring arms.
His command over it grew, and while he still sometimes relished the predatory glee of pouncing on and tearing into his prey, when he was bored, the shadows around his target simply leaped for the throat, and it was over. To an onlooker, he seemed to walk into the shadow of one tree, and out the shadow of another. To him, he simply joined with the shadows, and they took him wherever he pleased.
His courtship of self-improvement reached its conclusion in that he could take on whatever form he wished. His attention soon drew to the boredom inherent in this forest. He knew every stone, every leaf, and every life in this forest. It was time to explore other places.
One night, he simply walked out of the forest and didn’t look back.
==========
The Shadow Man; Silidri.
He sat upon the top of a mountain he had dubbed Mount Boredom as the horizon began to be touched by color. The form he wore was that of monkey and shadow, yet taller, and with no tail. It had been much time since he left the forest.
He had seen much.
He had changed much.
He had laughed much.
Yet he was beginning to forget, and he did not like that. He did not wish to lose the memories and he discovered a way to stop himself from doing so. The answer lay in words. He had never forgotten what the monkey was, even though he had not seen one for some time. He always remembered the form of the rabbits, and the changes he had made to them. He remembered the big cats only by reference; he could not recall what they actually had looked like. He had finally realized what the difference was. It was names. Those things he named, he remembered. The rest faded away.
The sun began to peek over the horizon, its rays casting long, friendly shadows behind him. His form felt sluggish, as the outer layers tried to dissipate, but his will was more than enough to maintain his form.
This was not a problem. He had no problem forgetting some things, for it meant he could rediscover them anew later. Yet there was one thing he was beginning to forget, and he refused to allow it to happen.
He was forgetting himself; forgetting who he was, forgetting where he came from. That information was not all gone, but it was not all there either. So he had come here to sit and think, even though it was so dreadfully boring. He had to name himself.
The shadowy figure looked up at the sun as it climbed in the sky. His eyes glowed a pale pink and his normally smiling white teeth were nowhere to be seen. As the sun climbed toward its apex, he sat in an ocean of light, bared in front of the wrath of the sun. His form wanted to boil and vanish, but he refused.
His thoughts turned to the void above, and how it was so like the shadow, yet so different.
He remembered the hazy details of his birth, fleeing from the Great Threats that he was aware of even now.
He remembered his love for the shadow, and his love for this world. All its crazy wonderful places were an open field in which to dance and then set ablaze.
The sun passed its apex, continuing along the sky. The shadows returned to him with open arms, and he greeted them warmly.
He thought of the future, his eyes flashing to a bright blue for a while as his smile returned.
As the sun finally kissed the horizon, the shadowy figure finally stood and descended the mountain side in long, reaching steps.
Silidri now realized there was never going to be just one name for him. He had chosen ‘Silidri’ and yet he realized that he would choose more names in the future as well. And in all likelihood they would be funny enough that he would keep them too. He would never stop answering to a name, he would simply collect them. So long as he remembered his names, he would remember himself, who he was, where he was from. Secure in this, Silidri set out, away from Mount Boredom.
Silidri’s laugh echoed in the night as he realized something; in order to not forget himself, he had resorted to doing something contrary to his own nature: quiet, boring, introspection. Laughing at his own folly, Silidri walked in the shadows of Gaia once more.
The Forest of Shadows
Silidri's Act-Equivalent action is to create this, The Forest of Shadows.
About The Forest
The outer edges of the forest seem the most normal, consisting mostly of animal and plant life one might normally expect on Gaia. However, the deeper one goes into the forest, the more bizarre and dangerous it becomes. All indigenous life forms there are twisted, often to the point of fulfilling new roles on the food chain. The foliage itself often is some form of predator, from trees that reach out and grab you to a bush that shoots and retracts poisoned fangs/thorns. The king of the jungle, the mighty lion, now crawls about fearing for its life; reduced to common prey, with literal eyes in the back of its head.
One section of the forest can be as different as another; the same base creature could be a vicious hunter in one area, yet in another is twisted to perform the stealthy scavenger role, or even be the most common prey. The simple addition of appendages, the combination of two species, even the overtly supernatural; practically anything can be found in the forest, thanks to The Trickster once spending an inordinate amount of time there.
The foliage becomes thicker the farther in one travels, the lines between forest, jungle, and tropical rainforest are blurred; one flowing into another. This transition exists seemingly in spite of no change in climate or weather patterns. The ambient power from the time the trickster god spent here is what fuels the continued vibrancy and variation of life.
Traveling in the forest
Forays into the deeper parts of the forest are often deadly, but can yield great rewards in terms of special materials. Not all of the dangers of the forest are from its inhabitants either, for the Trickster and his minions are said to visit the place on occasion. Simply living near the forest can be hazardous as strange creatures from within can wander out into the saner world from time to time. A mortal surviving any sort of extended time in the deeper forest should be regarded as accomplishing a great feat and is worthy of a measure of respect.
While the Forest is dangerous enough in the daytime, The Trickster loved the night. The Forest of Shadows has its share of nocturnal creatures, and these are generally understood to be the most dangerous out of all them, representing the very top of the food chain more often than not.
Addendum:
Need a unicorn? A tarrasque? A pack of owlbears? A flower that cures plot-sickness? I encourage other players to create random stuff and use the Forest of Shadows as a narrative tool.
Cliff Notes for this Ascention Quest:
The following has been written for those whom I have failed to clearly communicate to in the writing of this Ascention Quest. I feel the need to clarify how I structured it, should it not be readily understood. If you understood it fine, or you just don't care, there is no need to read further.
In writing it, It began with a poem, which you can read by only looking at the Bolded Words in the quest itself.
The poem looked like this to begin with:
The portions of fragments; remnants of Mortan.
A thought, floating in the dark.
A rhyme, the last of its kind.
A phrase, never uttered among the living.
A bout of Laughter suppressed.
A criticism unvoiced.
A dark humor.
Ignored.
Silent.
Apart.
Unchained.
Drifting.
Free.
Dying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Changing.
Living.
Growing.
Learning.
Seeking.
Finding.
Embracing.
A wanderer.
A thriving contradiction.
A seeker of new sights.
A jester, he who laughs alone.
A trickster, of those caught unawares.
A stalker, watching from the shadows.
The Shadow Man; Silidri.
As you can see, the structure of the poem is sort of like a mirror, with the point of reflection being the line of these: ~~~~~~~
Each line and it's mirrored opposite share the same gramatical structure; in terms of general length of the line, presence of punctuation, and presence or absence of surrounding white space.
For further analytical assessment of the poem, here:The Poem contains 6 parts to it, not including the line where reflection occurs.
The first Part and the Sixth part are mirror images of eachother, and are the first and last lines of the poem, respectively.
The portions of fragments; remnants of Mortan.
...
The Shadow Man; Silidri.
They can be identified as the only lines that include semicolons.
These lines are sort of like the titles of their respective halves of the poem, and function to identify the state of Silidri chronologically. At the begining of the poem, Silidri is nothing but a collection of shards of Mortan, while at the end of it all, he has become something new: The Shadow Man.
The second and fifth parts of the poem are descriptors, they each consist of six lines which describe the subject.
In the second part:
A thought, floating in the dark.
A rhyme, the last of its kind.
A phrase, never uttered among the living.
A bout of Laughter suppressed.
A criticism unvoiced.
A dark humor.
The Shards of Mortan are being described. These various shards are what will soon constitute Silidri's being.
The Fifth part:
A wanderer.
A thriving contradiction.
A seeker of new sights.
A jester, he who laughs alone.
A trickster, of those caught unawares.
A stalker, watching from the shadows.
This describes who Silidri is now. Different things he is, and likes to do. Aspects of his personality, these lines tell us the most about who I envision him to be.
The Third and Forth parts consist entierly of one word lines, several of them verbs. These lines give us a chronological description of what is happening to Silidri.
The Third part:
Ignored.
Silent.
Apart.
Unchained.
Drifting.
Free.
Dying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~This part tells us what happened to the Shards of Mortan before they became the Silidri we all know and love/hate.
Ignored, Silent, Apart: These lines tell us that these aspects of Mortan's personality were more or less supressed and hidden away in his subconsious, as if he didn't want or like them very much.
Unchained, Drifting, Free: This describes the Death of Mortan, and the fact that the shards in question are now drifting through space.
Dying: This line was showing that the shards would not have otherwise become anything without outside influence, and would have faded away to nothing, (or gotten torn apart by the Great Beyond) with time.
The line of Tildes, I said was not considered one of the six parts of the poem, but it does serve to seperate the third and fourth parts, as well as the whole first and second halves of the poem. What the line of tilde's represent is an Event occuring, specifically, the shards drifting close enough to one of the rifts leading to the Great Beyond that the forces of chaos interact with the shards.
The Fourth part:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Changing.
Living.
Growing.
Learning.
Seeking.
Finding.
Embracing.
The events in this part are described by the words used in the ascention quest itself. But the general gist is that the shards of Mortan are melding together (Changing), forming a sentient life (Living), that develops into a mature consciousness (Growing & Learning), and then finds philosophical meaning in the vacume of space itself (Seeking, Finding, Embracing).
Each line of the second half of the poem turned into a mini-title for a section of the Ascention quest. I then told a chronological story using those titles, detailing Silidri's journey of birth and self-discovery.
If anyone remains confused, and doesn't like that, shoot me a PM and ask away.
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