The Realm of Dunstac
-=- OOC | Profiles | Adopts
-=- "When we were called to cross the Bridge, I took along everyone I could find. I'll never forget that moment. Running under a sundered sky and over ravenous fire, into the burning clouds as the roar of destruction faded into the soft sound of falling snow."
Rules
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Rules can be discovered on the OOC thread, please check it out! When posting, since we only have the one thread, please preface all posts you make with this. If you feel absolutely urged to include an OOC blurb, set it under this in parenthesis, but the OOC thread should be the main.
NAME | LOCATION | FOCUS (sup) Any OOC here. If you like, you can link Name to your character profile post. Focus is whoever you're posting at and if it's open for others to join or not.(/sup)
The Old World
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The world they left behind was a rocky and earthlike region of jagged cliffs, deep canyons and sprawling, snow-capped mountains. Leylines traveled strong through its core and expanded to its neighboring solar entities, but once their local star began to die, the magical energies roiled into a subterranean storm until it finally began to tear their world apart.
The controlled nature of these magical currents instead became chaotic. The world entered periods of 'quiet death' in which soil slowly blackened and plants shrivelled and died, with skies that never darkened or lightened beyond a twilight-esque sheen. Alternating from this were periods of the 'loud death,' which could strike anywhere at any time, and caused strange things to happen. Rocks and earth would randomly shatter outwards, fire would sweep upon the winds, lightning crashing from both sky and sea, the elements roaring into a rampage. Sometimes, entire areas would simply disappear, leaving only craters in their wake.
So, those with arcanic magical abilities created the Bridge, a glowing quartz-like pathway that extended up towards the sky in an unsupported ramp. The other end of the Bridge cannot be found on the old world. It disappears and fades into a choking mist, and any who travel to its end likewise fade from perception.
The New World
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The other side of the Bridge led to a land hidden within the skies; an ethereal, almost ghostly echo of what their old home used to be. Visibility is low with an almost constant mist or fog, the air rich with moisture and usually anywhere between brisk and mildly warm. Rarely is the sky actually blue, only adapting the tint at twilight or early dawn, and the stars are only visible to those on the highest snowy peaks.
Flat land does not exist in abundance here; only in portions alongside mountains or plateaus. The rest is towering mountains, sloped mountainside plainlands, deep canyons, and even craters. Waterfalls are abundant, and plant life is rich and overgrown, some ancient trees towering hundreds of feet into the air and boasting incredible canopies. Twisted roots keep the soil intact, most canyons pool with rivers, but there does not seem to be any ocean; only the occasional winding, river-like lake.
Primordial life exists here, in the form of ancient creatures from different worlds whom also found their way to the ethereal land of Dunstac. Be they from different worlds or different times, it seems this beautiful, if not spooky, quiet land is like a gentle living purgatory for refugees.
Chapter 1: Lost in Golden Mist The Shattered Hill
The first chapter, and indeed campaign, is to explore the sloping hills of their new home. New areas will open in due time, but for now; refugees have begun crowding into the swaying grasses, disturbing the swirling golden fog, and opening their senses to the eerie world that awaits them. It sounds ethereal, smells like ozone and freshly snapped tomato leaves, and the sound of distant crashing water can be heard from a multitude of thin mountain streams and rivers coursing down the cliffs and slopes.
Weather
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The Shattered hill and its neighboring valley and mountain peak are all currently under a heavy golden mist. Brisk, cold moisture flecks dart about like a swarm of bugs in the occasional soft breeze, and the light glinting through the tiny droplets occasionally glints like diamonds. Breathing in deep feels a little bit like trying to breathe in water, but rather than feeling muggy, it is quite chill.
In-Character News
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The Bridge has opened. The first few dragons have just started to tumble out the other side onto the unexpectedly steep slopes beyond, while fires rage on the side they just arrived from. It is like exiting a forest fire to hide within a refrigerated room; quite jarring, and uncomfortably quiet.
The exit seemed to come from the clouds themselves.
Borachev, though he had guided so many onto the Bridge with the promise that it led to safety, was the first to writhe through... a test subject, as it were, to see if the gateway itself did not spell death. It did not take much convincing; his near-fanatical viewpoint of his kin extended even now, to this point. Better him, than dragons with so much more potential than he. So his claws were the first to dip into the cloudy atmosphere of the New World... and he dripped like misting, liquid shadow down out of the shimmering cave-like gateway in the air to land with a soft thump onto the blue-green grass beyond. An aura of shadow pooled around him, dissolving his outline by proxy, so that he never struck a firm silhouette; the void energies that crawled around him, tugged at the fronds of grass, evaluating and extracting bits of choice material from them, kept his image blurry the further earthward it got.
The patch of grass in which he'd landed started to look a little moth-eaten by the time he lifted his narrow head, gleaming obsidian eyes gazing off down the towering hills that extended on and into the misting weather. Miniscule flecks of water toyed at his nostrils, tickling his urge to sneeze, causing the Void's muzzle to wrinkle now and then with only the precursor to one... and, frustratingly, not the final actual exhalation of one. He rubbed at his snout vigorously, and the tailtip curled inward, a few come-thither flicks given before he allowed the rest of his snakelike body to weave out of the glowing, soft white portal. It was a gesture for others to join him... it was safe. He was alive, and the soft light and dewy grass was a far more welcome sight than the scorched, cracked earth and roaring fires he had just left.
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