Aenisa's Scrapbook (Mostly random short stuff)

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The player scrapbooks forum is literally a place for writers to warm-up, brainstorm, keep little scraps of notes, or just post things to encourage themselves and each other. Each player can feel free to create their own thread - one per account - and use them accordingly.

Aenisa's Scrapbook (Mostly random short stuff)

Postby Aenisa on April 7th, 2017, 8:22 pm

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Scrapbook


Sometimes I just enjoy writing random stuff and stuff and share pictures somewhere, anyone want to take part of that, here you go. I tend to also get a picture off Deviantart that inspires a short story and write it out, someone might enjoy these so random stories here are going to be normal.

If you got any particular pictures that you find that you want to see what I can make out of it, feel free to post here or send me a PM with the picture. (Not all pictures give me inspiration but most do.)

Also, here is a playlist:
Randomy music

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Last edited by Aenisa on May 14th, 2017, 10:33 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Aenisa
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Aenisa's Scrapbook (Mostly random short stuff)

Postby Aenisa on April 7th, 2017, 8:38 pm

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Mountain Pass


It was only a little further now she told herself again, the footsteps of her companion was the only thing that kept her going, they were being imprinted into the snow like that a foot can do in wet sand during a hot summer day. The forest around the tired woman was beginning to feel as if it was shrinking down around them when in reality it was just getting thicker and harder to see anywhere through it but the woman and her companion knew that soon the forest would open up again. When she had accepted the contract she was not aware that it would have to be carried out in the north in the winter and so it was all a little bit of a shock to her but the coin had been good and so she had decided that it would be worth the trouble.

Feeling in her toes long gone, she little more than forced her feet before her, shuffling snow with every step she took as they got deeper and deeper into the forest, she thought that the woods were letting up a little but it was hard to tell, she was thinking of other things. Mind on food and shelter for the night she did not know when or if she might find any, worst case scenario she would have to freeze under a tree with her companion, body heat the only thing keeping them both alive. It came as a surprise to her then as the woods had indeed started to let up that they could see the smoke billowing from one of the hunting lodges along the mountain pass at which they now stood at the entrance of.

Deep snow made their progress grim and it took several hours to make it from the tree lining to the lodge, all around the two towering mountains looked down upon them. Waiting for them to collapse so that they could swallow them both, never to be seen again. Pushing forwards like their lives depended on it soon they were at the door of the lodge, tired, exhausted, cold, hungry and thirsty as they banged on the door for help. Three knocks was all that they could muster, the strength of their muscles telling them that they were done for the day. Three knocks was all that was needed as an old bearded man peeked out through the peephole and then as he saw the two weary women into his eyes, less than suitable clothes for the terrain he swung the door open and helped them both inside. The warmth of the lodge came as a shock to them both as they were helped inside, door banging shut again a sticking pain coursed through their bodies as they began to warm up again, sitting close to the fire they were both given thick blankets to wrap themselves in. They would after all live another day, the mission was not a failure yet.

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Aenisa
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Aenisa's Scrapbook (Mostly random short stuff)

Postby Aenisa on April 7th, 2017, 9:43 pm

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Army of the many faces


It was the sign that only the eldest of the city remembered and knew. Mist came floating down from that old castle that sat on top of the hill just outside of the town, watching over them like a volcano, ready to erupt. Long ago had the inhabitants of the town forgotten about the old stories and the dangers of what lurked below the old, abandoned castle.

Not Marcus, eighty years old he was the oldest in the town and considered to be among the eldest in the entire kingdom. Wisdom and old age was not common in the kingdom and since most people lived a hard life the average life expectancy was forty which made his old age even more spectacular. Marcus had spent his entire life trying to prevent what the mist signified for the town, approaching corruption. As his acolyte came into the house that Marcus still occupied, told him of the phenomenon that was playing out on top of the hill the old man went white as a ghost. Demanding to be dressed, the acolyte helping him to do so, they departed from the home.

In the town, there were a few people out already for their morning chores but as they saw Marcus coming walking down the road with a determination to his old, waddling stride they paused. Asking what got the old man out of his bed so early was met by a snarl from the old man and an aggressive comment about staying away.

“Now is not the time, bugger off.”

The two of them continued on their way, leaving confused townspeople behind in their wake. Eighty years of studies, eighty years of experience and eighty years of trying to prevent all of this. Marcus knew that this was what he had studied for, prepared himself for, for all his life. It was a slow walk that saw them winding their way through the town, a few of the confused people deciding to follow along on the journey. By the time that the entourage stopped at the gates of the town, the mist was thick and had enveloped much of the old castle, the old church and about half the graveyard. The buildings lay within the old part of town, the banished part of town that nobody except Marcus remembered why they weren’t supposed to go to.

“This isn’t good.” The old man said to the acolyte by his side and then, placing a hand onto the young boy’s shoulder, he continued. “I need you to run to the church, ring out the bell and tell everyone to hide in the mines underneath the town.”

Protests of leaving Marcus alone were met with a stern stare from the old man and the urgent repeat of the word “Run”. Disappearing into the small crowd and beyond, the young boy ran back into town and so Marcus turned to address the gathering now.

“We do not get a lot of time, head into the old mines, hide there. There is no time to answer questions, go.”

The tone was a solemn one at that, strong enough coming from Marcus that many of those near him sobered up from their morning drowsiness and headed back into town again. A few of the townspeople stayed around and started to ask curious questions, Marcus denied answers as he started the slow walk towards the growing mist. Nobody followed as Marcus disappeared into the ever-approaching mist. It didn’t take more than a few moments and it seemed that the mist had wrapped the man up in a blanket. Carrying Marcus into the unknown and into the unseen.

Perhaps it wasn’t the view of the approaching mist that was the worst part but rather the dead silence that it carried with it. Chickens had stopped clucking, cows stopped mooing and the sheep stopped bleating. Waves that usually came crashing into the sandy shores were nowhere to be heard any longer either, all that was left was silence. Whispers of death and whispers of eternal sleep was what the mist was promising.

Marcus felt how the rush of fresh air was flowing around his ancient bones and they were chilling him to the core but he was prepared. The old grandmaster of the order had clearly written down the rites that one needed to follow to secure the town from the approaching abomination. They were over five hundred years old, it had to work. The further inside of the mist that Marcus got the more he felt the stare of those that weren’t there, whispers of those that could not speak and the touch of those who had no touch. It seemed empty and desolate, almost like the mist of a rainstorm that pulls in from the sea in an early summers morning but in the distance the dark figure arose from the whiteness.

“Hello?”

Marcus called out. Echoes came bouncing back at the old man, whispers from every direction. “Hello?” “hello?” “Hello?” the whispers continued for a while before they started to die out and the silence settled around Marcus again. The figure hadn’t moved. Marcus decided to push on, heading for the dark figure that he had now spotted and although his stride was slow and his body old, he was making good progress on the figure. Calling out again. “Hellooo?” Marcus was hoping to get an answer from the one he was seeking but instead he was only enveloped in the whispers of echoes again, the mist seemingly reacting to his voice.

Suddenly, the mist that he was pulsating through became a glue, thick as something that he had never experience before in his life. Marcus came to a sudden stop. A low rumble went through the mist, like lightning had passed through it like a living organism and it seemed to reverberate with the sound of the past and those that had been. Whispers of inaudible conversations swirling around Marcus where he stood. In a field of white it was Marcus and the figure, like two odd flowers in an early spring meadow. Conversations died down with the movement of the figure in front of Marcus and the mist parted between them, revealing the ground for their conversation to fill.

Floating off the ground the ghostly figure raised its cowl slightly as the faces of several individuals were clearly visible to Marcus. Faces made visible to Marcus all carried different expressions of anguish and sadness or anger. With a uniformed voices of the ghosts that occupied this one being asked.

“What business does the living have here?”

The whispers started up, repeating the words all around Marcus as he stood before the figure, there was only one way to answer these questions, one proven way. Marcus knew.

“We come to sacrifice.”

A low howl went through the mist at these words, the figure, unmoved.

“What sacrifice do you offer?”

“What you seek the most, peace.”

Once again, the howl went through the mist but this time the figure slowly started over towards Marcus. Pausing a short distance from the old man the faces of the figure were closely inspecting the elder before them. Behind the figure the army of the many faces were slowly rising out of the solid mist, materialising before the very eyes of Marcus. Never before had he thought that he would live to see and save his town from the horror that the army could wreak on it.

“Peace is an illusion of the living.”

The words came from the combined figure and left Marcus not knowing what to say, it was never written down in the books. This was supposed to lead to the closing argument that he would put forwards, caring for the graves and their memories but this time they had stepped outside of the lines of the ancient teachings. Marcus had always assumed that what the book taught him would be what he needed but the ghosts before him was not playing it by the book.

“Peace is something we give, every season, to the graves of the lost.”

Marcus tried to explain to the ghosts. An army now stood behind the figure, the size of it incalculable as it stretched from either side of the white field to the other. Marcus stared at the ghosts in the figure before him as he made the plea.

“Spare our town, there are plenty more besides us, plenty more with more like us.” Marcus made a show out of this by running his hand down either side of his garments. “In return I promise you to care for each and every grave, like we have always done, like we shall always do.” That ought to work, it was the final sentence that one needed to utter to the ghosts to save the town from their horrors.

“Peace is futile. Living is weak.”

With those short words the scythe of the figure was raised and in the same instant it seemed to come from underneath Marcus to rip open his stomach. Shock and horror mixed together with the astonishment of what was going on as the scythe hit him, tearing him almost in two. A gasp for air and the figure moved a stride closer to Marcus, Marcus falling to his knees as he was counting his last breaths. No blood, no sound, no air, all of it was gone and as Marcus was taking his last precious sips of air the ghosts spoke one final time to him.

“We take, we feed, we destroy. Time of your race has ended.”

The last thing that Marcus knew was the spirits of the ghosts surrounding him, the mist suffocating him and the scythe tearing his entire soul from its foundation.

Old tales spoke of the army of the many faces, an army said to roam the world and cull the population in intervals. The tales spoke of a town near the old castle, across the sea that had at one time held the marauding army at bay, only to rely on their ways and have it destroyed completely. The Island on which the town had been located was considered dead territory for all the kings in the known world as both they as well as merchants steered clear of the island.


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Aenisa
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Aenisa's Scrapbook (Mostly random short stuff)

Postby Aenisa on April 30th, 2017, 10:16 pm

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Lost to the ages


Empty streets sung of the stories of the past, marks along the walls told the tales of the past and the footsteps of the sole survivor spoke of the disappearance of the past. Pasinika was moving through the deserted streets of the once great city, she has walked the path many times and it seemed to her like items would move, but she knew they didn’t. It wasn’t feasible for anyone to find the city and to come and visit her without making a sound. The abandoned mages tower had provided for the shelter that she had needed and thanks to plentiful storages of grain and other food she had managed to survive this far.

Building a city within the confounds of a cave had seemed like a superior position at first, it left little room to anyone to attack from behind and the city could remain safe for many millennia. The problem that nobody foresaw was that nobody would know where the city lay and so, piece by piece, person by person, the city had started to fall. Kings and queens had called the city their home, priests, high-priests and priestesses and powerful mages alike had lived within the city limits and walked the streets that now Pasinika walked alone. She let out a soft sigh, the torches that she had lit on her way past earlier in the day seemed to still burn slowly, it wasn’t necessary as the sun shone through in streams of light, it wasn’t much, it was enough. She had lit the torches in preparation for the evening though who was sure to come soon enough. Passing through the archway into the courtyard of the forgotten church, funnily it seemed like the gods had abandoned the church. The church was in a bad shape, despite what Pasinika had tried to do to stop the aging of the church.

An old graveyard was hidden in the heart of the forgotten city, gravestones lining both sides of the well-kept pathway up to the church itself, names of those that perished. To Pasinika they were names of the past, abstract in their nature and yet they had played an integral part to the city at one time. Whatever it was that they had done in life, in death, they were nothing but dirt and the occasional empty husk. It wasn’t worth thinking any more about it, the contemplation would not help her in her task. The white robes that she wore made her appear as a ghost as she roamed the streets of the city, a priest when she was in the church and almost alien to those that never had known about the city. With a creaking sound that could have awoken the dead, if it had been a possibility, the doors gave way and slowly opened for her.

It wasn’t a large church and it was dwarfed by the city walls and the castle that lay beyond it as well, it had no doubt only been a minor religious centre during its functional days. It was a church dedicated to the goddess of the underworld and darkness, once clad in a white coat of paint, today it was grey, just like the cave rocks. When one stepped through the old, creaking, wooden doors they were met with a worn-down marble floor and windows from the floor to the ceiling, that somehow seemed to beam right through the stony exterior of the church. Once an interior that had boasted of a huge podium and statues lining the walls inside of the church, today only a few remained standing. Pasinika had removed them over the years as she had been caring for the church, all in the name of the goddess. Stepping into the main part of the church, throwing her hands open and crying out in an agonising voice, hoping that the words would reach the goddess.

I am still here! I am still caring for your realm! I am all you got! Show me the love that you have taught us about!” The words were full of anger and despair, agony. Pasinika had been in the city for too long and she was ready to leave the city behind her. The goddess had not manifested herself in years, the last time the city still was a bustling city of major power, now it was a remnant of an old age, forgotten by all. “I have always been watching over you, Pasinika.” The voice seemed to emanate from the grounds below her feet, confusing her and leaving her struck as to whom it might be. Pasinika had given up hope on her god. “Is it reallyyou?” She asked cautiously, fearing that someone might come laughing from behind a corner somewhere or that her mind was playing tricks on her again. She was instead shown one of the rarer observations that she had ever seen in her life, a human figure seemed to slowly arise from the floor of the church. It was as if the body had stolen the marble that the floor was made of and moulded it into the shape of a human, it, now standing before Pasinika. “This has fallen.” Was the first remark that the entity said once they had appeared fully, their marble figure looking around inside of the church. Pasinika was speechless, she fell onto her knees before the goddess, beginning to plead with the god, she was almost crying now, what was truly happening.

Please, goddess, don’t leave me behind, I am the only caretaker still in your service. I am the only person who cares for your fallen city. I have followed your laws, I have lived up to your ideals, set me free.” The despair grew and pushed all other feelings aside as she felt herself falling to pieces, it had been years since the goddess had appeared. Every day for the past years, she had cared for, she had prayed too and she had sacrificed to the goddess who now stood before her in the small church. There was silence for a long time as the marble statuette stood still on the floor before it spoke to the woman, although it spoke and the mouth was moving, it seemed to Pasinika that the sounds were coming from the floor itself. “You shall no longer serve me in this realm, priestess. You will join me in the realm of the divine, you have done your duty here, you have done it well.”

With a crash that shattered the marble, the body of the marble statuette came crashing down onto the floor. She sat on her knees, the confusion of what had just happened was almost thick enough to cut through. She was not going to have to serve in this city any longer, then where would she go if she couldn’t, to the divines the statuette had told her. The confusion didn’t last long and to anyone outside of the church, still in the city, it would appear as if the sun had appeared in the church itself. A massive white light suddenly exploded out from the holes in the church and through the windows that the stone covered but then again, didn’t cover. For a moment, the darkness of the city was turned into day. It quickly died down again though and then the city had lost its last caretaker, the last survivor had moved on. The footsteps of the city would never echo through the streets again and the walls of the city would never again have anyone to tell their tales to. With the disappearance of the footsteps, the past had become the future and until someone came again to the great forgotten city, it would keep the secrets of the underworld to itself.

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Aenisa
Slowly going insane.
 
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Aenisa's Scrapbook (Mostly random short stuff)

Postby Aenisa on May 14th, 2017, 5:45 pm

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The Experiment


The axe seemed to fit the wooden door well, it came crashing against the aging and salty wood, sending splints flying in every direction. Loud creaking was echoing around the interior of the forgotten and abandoned castle by the sea, once it had been the only thing standing between the armies of the sea and those of the kingdom. What had once been a great protector of the realm, today stood as a testament to days’ past and times long gone. Erik swung his axe against the door again, the echo letting him know that he was getting closer, the wood giving in slowly to his brute force. The salt of the seawater had since long started to eat away at the stones in the towers, the wood in the door and Erik guessed that anything found within might have suffered the same fate. Ever since that one day however, this is what he had been forced to do, scavenge for survivors. Search for the lost and for those that were still in hiding, hidden from view. Fortresses and towers were sure to have food and some type of housing available, making them good targets to search for life.

As the wood on the door finally gave in and crashed down to the floor, the sound bouncing around within the hollow and dark corridors within the fortress. Bouncing back and forth several times before the echo finally subsided and the hallways grew silent again. He sounded out, just to be sure that nobody was around, not that he had encountered a single person in months by his own reckoning by now. “Hello? Anyone here? Anyone?” It was a curious tone in his voice that guided his question around the castle before it was returned to him, a little fainter than when he had asked the question but no answer only the faint echo of his question. Erik thought to himself as he stepped through the wooden hole that he had made for himself “I guess that I am here.” Finding himself smiling at this as he stepped into the surprisingly dry interior of the fortress courtyard. Abandoned artefacts of the past never really held anyone inside of them it seemed. The interior of the fortress seemed to be in good condition even though it had been located on the coast of the kingdom, the sea furiously whipping at the stones of the building every day. The inside seemed to have made it for however many years it was since it had been used. The green in the courtyard was a sign that the nature was reclaiming what had once been taken from the earth - soon, it seemed to say - it would be returned to the earth once more.

Stone slabs that had once been built to withstand the armies that patrolled the fortress still bore the signs of the footsteps that had slowly worn them down. Erik’s own footsteps were the first in over two hundred years to traverse the stones. Tracks after the wheels of wagons had since long been turned into drainage pipes for the rain and the spray from the higher waves that came crashing against the walls of the fortress. It seemed like they might as well at one time have been used to drain the blood from the wounded and the dead soldiers in the war that had devastated the entire world. The war that had caused the wrath from above, the threat that those who were supposedly much holier than Erik had spoken of, had preached about and had eventually fallen victim to. The first few months had been strange, they had been filled with sadness and grief for those that could not be saved and yet, now that he was searching the ruins of the fortress, he wasn’t feeling the sadness any longer in the world. Like any man that discovers his own Loneliness and must live with it, it had grown a friend to Erik. He liked the way that it didn’t talk back when he said something, the way that it sometimes gave him what he needed, food, companionship and a warm place. Overall it wasn’t so bad and yet… Erik wished that he didn’t have to be the one.

Walking down the corridor towards the furthest end of the fortress, Erik soon found himself standing by the window, he looked out across the sea as the sound of the crushing waves was rolling in. Never could he quite understand how the world that was created under so much pain and suffering could be brought back into pain and suffering. Destruction seemed to Erik like it was the only outcome of humanity on the planet, in the kingdom. If no wisdom was taken from the past, the future would be equally fruitless and it was more worth it to leave it to a wiser, better sentient race. It was a godly creation that left Erik speechless most of the time, high mountains, cliffs that stretched as far as the eye could see and water that seemed to bring life and food to all that wanted it. Forests that stretched on for an entirety and held secrets that no human had ever discovered or known about.

Erik sighed, it was a real waste to let it all drift into darkness again, knowledge be lost and ways of old, blood, sacrifice and reverence only leading to an end for them all. Erik called for Loneliness via his implant as he stood watching the sea still, the fortress was empty. “I am done here, you can come.” His voice was rather monotone as if he had just undergone a life-changing experience and yet, it was one out of many that he had witnessed.

I don’t understand Erik, why you bother with an axe and all that. I could just fly you inside.” The companion responded as it was already heading towards Erik.

It is because it would scare them, if there were any of them.”

I don’t scare you, do I?”

No, but I have lived with you for so long now.”

So, they haven’t?”

No.”

Primitive.”

Yes.”

He shut off the communication device as he waited for Loneliness to arrive. Most of the time at least, Loneliness didn’t question what he did. A smile spread across his lips as the sun dipped below the clouds and lit up the walls of the fortress, sunlight streaming in through the cracks in the wall, the small windows. This was meant to be a paradise, a paradise for an experiment, sadly it had given too much insight into the minds of the race that had been chosen. Erik and many others like him had been sent down to the planet, they were exterminating the remaining population so that a new wave of intelligence could rule and build. It wasn’t quite what Erik had wanted and he had said as much in the voting process but he understood the usefulness of the action they were taking, buying the planet had not been cheap. With the expense that had been put forth, a real scientific endeavour needed pleasing results, humans had not proven a viable subject.

A whizzing noise arrived just outside of the wall where Erik was, with a sigh Erik turned his device back on as he spoke again. “I’ll be by the entrance.” He left the emptiness of hundreds of years to itself again, he left the past once more to the past as he would never return and chances were, no human would. Loneliness was waiting by the time that he emerged from the hole in the door that he had cut with his axe upon entering the fortress. His companion was that of a smaller spaceship, capable of speeds reaching far beyond what was thought possible on the planet on which he was on. The hatch opened and welcomed him inside once more, into the plush chair and the cooled environment, the comfort was something that really bothered Erik sometimes. He climbed in.

We need to meet up with the Storm.” Loneliness announced as soon as the door had closed again, the small ship setting course for a place far away from the lone fortress.

Do we have to?” Erik sounded a little annoyed at this, the Storm always had something to say about what it was that he was doing. In their eyes, he was supposed to exterminate and move on, Erik wanted to learn and then dispose of the problem. The two had never seen eye to eye and chances were that they wouldn’t now either.

Yes, they have requested that we dock for our weekly report. It is against proto…” Loneliness was cut off by Erik as he started to speak above the ship. “Yes, yes, yesAlright, let’s get it over with. Shut off comms until we arrive.” Not in the mood to hear any further communications that might emerge from the Storm, Erik leant back and closed his eyes for the journey.


Image

Dark clouds had settled over the desert, a seabed that had since long gone and had taken with it the supposed civilizations that once lived in the area. Here and there across the now arid desert lay old ships, stranded on what was once the seabed but that today was the desert itself. The Loneliness came soaring over a hill and immediately an audible tut was heard from the ship as it saw the Storm which had chosen to travel across the desert at that time. It was not unlike the bigger ships to go for the dramatic, the Storm, so aptly named because the mind which controlled it felt a strong urge to always envelop itself within the black clouds of thunder storms.

Docking with the ship was what awoke Erik and allowed him to know that the journey was complete, he stretched and yawned before he climbed out of the chair. “Thanks L, don’t allow anyone to access the memory whilst I am gone.” Was the only command that Erik issued before he climbed out of the vessel and onto a landing dock, being greeted by an officer which quickly escorted him away.

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