Awakening (Ayanna)
From Toosigma
| Title | Awakening |
|---|---|
| Author | Brandon Horn - Ayanna |
| Campaign | Shattered Prisons |
| Session | Pre-Campaign Background |
| Posted | April 6, 2007 |
| Game Date |
Walking. A dense white fog. Fog? What is fog? Nothingness. A faint memory of what came before, indistinct images that have no names or meaning. Cold. Water. Pain.
A blinding flash, and you find yourself in the forest, surrounded by the sounds of nature. A small stream trickles down the rocky slope. A pair of deer are drinking, but look up at your approach, unfrightened. A small squirrel leaps down a nearby tree and bounds to your feet, standing on its haunches and looking up at you. You crouch down to say hello and he cocks his head to the side, as if trying to comprehend your strange speech. Before you can say anything else, he races back up the tree, and you see the two deer bound off into the distance.
A lone wolf, gray with white socks, pads up to the stream. He looks at you, before dipping his nose into the water, drinking thirstily. He looks up with an appraising stare, his slate gray eyes never leaving yours.
Greetings, stonechild. The voice seems both young and vital and yet ancient and wise, echoing in your mind, but without any sound. Before you can reply, another blinding flash returns you to the stark white oblivion. Time loses meaning, but it seems an eternity before you hear faint voices impinging on the nothingness.
“... special about her ... you mean about it” Cold and pain recede, replaced by warmth. Strong arms, beautiful golden hair, towering stones. A blinding flash.
You're standing in a wide clearing, surrounded by massive dancing stones, floating lazily through the air. A single stone, four times the size of the others, lies beneath your feet. You see the wolf, sitting calmly on his haunches.
Welcome again, stonechild. Your slumber is long, though nearing its end. You cannot rest, for the world has yet a need for you. You try to ask, but nothing escapes your lips. Small steps, young one. You have only just now learned to open your eyes, try yet not to fly. The wolf stands and begins pacing a circle around you, as though stalking his prey. Fear stabs at your heart as he charges you, knocking you to the ground with his snapping jaws at your throat.
You gasp desperately for air. Your eyes blink at the blinding light, though some vestige of your mind asserts that is the darkness of night. Your lungs seem on fire, though the night air is cool. Finally banishing the stars from your vision, you see a horrifying visage, a scarred face crowned with a wild mane of white hair. One whitened eye stares down at you, and in the place of the other is a darkened cavern.
“Welcome to the world, bright flower.”
