Out of Character:
This is a thread for Witchy and I.



It was just another typical day in Luthmor. The glittery sprites were zooming all across the lands in all sizes, some as small as a light bulb and some were the average height of people - meandering about carelessly and some with a business intent. They moved in a generous harmony and life seemed to roll around them with a fluid nature, not a care in the world. It differed from the forests to the city though - the fun loving feeling was gone and the abysmal dog-eat-dog side of existence emerged. Venom dripping from spiders fangs as they stare wantonly at smaller insects and birds. O, the joys of reality. But this devious reality was only just beginning...
Somewhere in the ruins of Donnalaich, a grandfather fae whispered silently to his three grandchildren about a war that happened long ago. The three kids flitted anxiously over one another in a pyramid fashion as they eagerly absorbed the story. Attentive eyes watched the sparks of magic and life drip from their old grandfather's digits and he conjured and weaved his tale of WarMages and their mighty golem armies!
They hid beneath a blanket in unison as the pyroclastics oozed from their grandfather's illusion in a firey storm that scorched their enemies alive. They watched, wide-eyed as the tale unfolded and the rock warriors became pack mules for a conquest of annihilation and his tale seemed to wind down with a massive, epic battle of cataclysmic proportions that lead to be why their home, Donnalaich, was just a set of buried ruins within a great rain forest in their lands.

"Rask ahalla' nor esuna ruin!" The grandfather exclaimed and his illusions rolled with fires and large orbs opened for eyes. His realistic illusions would fill the room and cause the children to stare in fear and wonder at this mammoth of insane size - the pyroclastic golem. It didn't even fit inside the little notch that the four fae squirmed within, and yet the could imagine the size of the monster if it's head didn't even fit - just one glowing amber eye filled the room until it faded. "So what happened to them, g'pappy!?" The kids exclaimed ...


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Deeply beneath the ruins of Donnalaich, an ancient monster stirred at the words spoken so very far away. Inside the rain forest, the piles of rock and the caves that lay within were from an old fortress of a grand mage, Deus. His power reached beyond all the other mages and because of this, he was slain by his peers, for no single mage should have that much power. However, in his defeat, Deus released his golems to wage war upon his mutinous mage followers and thus, the assumed, great fall of Deus' fortress and the city surrounding. Legend foretells that the piles of rocks are still a little charred from the epic battle nearly eleven centuries ago and are actually the remaining pieces of the great war mules, the pyro golems.


:: :: :: :: ::


"Uhh ... he-he-hHElo?"

The voice echoed off of the hollow walls down the center of the ruins. The parallel, narrow walls seemed endless beneath the massive fortress above and yet 689 had remained there for over a thousand years. The walls were cracked and defaced, smothered with wet moss from years of water leaking through the ceilings and some of them were decimated under stress points and fractures around 689. The voice that rang down the halls was gruff and coarse and left the scent of ash in the air.

Stone Wall 689 moved. The world around him cracked and groaned. The walls crumbled around him - but not really. He was the wall and after a thousand years he was just readjusting himself. Stonewall groaned slightly and moved forwards with a rolling pile, rock motion. Tumbling out from the wall, the giant stood slowly, his massive rock frame coming together in pieces. Two giant boulders for his pectorals and then a series of smaller, average rocks for his abdominals and then the rest of his body compiled upward caused him to stand almost at full height. The crumble of his brows squinted and he looked up, thunking his head on the ceiling. He crouched and began to roll down the hallway with a thunderous bellowing, landslide of a sound.

The scent of ash followed his motions and he rolled around to a blocked off passage and two other directions. Stonewall was stumped. Not in the wooden way, either - for he wasn't wood at all! If he had a lip, he would have chewed on it in his primitive ways and pondered which direction to go. He would remember that when he was brought into the pit in the first place when the building and beginning of the fortress was being assembled, he came from the direction on his left. "Uhhh ... l - l - LEF! HA HA!" His bellow of laughter shook the walls around him and the dirty misted his head, his laughter echoing throughout the ruins. He rolled to the left and began to see cracks of light emerging from the hallway ceiling in front of him.