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  • Beqanna


    Jamie -- Year 213


    “"I don’t know how to do this,” she says. What she actually means is I’m sorry, but she doesn’t know how to apologize either." --Titanya, written by Mirage

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    [complete]  Welcome back, everyone.
    It is so easy to forget. How long now has it been since the gates to the world of the dead had been opened? How many remembered, or cared, or thought what that might mean for their world? Ah, but in the beginning it had been all the best things for them; more magic in the form of entities and old faces, bits of magic that could be made theirs. And if nothing else, mortals were always greedy for more

    But all things have a price.

    There are other creatures that have not forgotten. They have stayed by those doors or have crept through already, lying in wait until the moment was right, until their time had come. An influx of magic, such as the moment a victor is giving new power, is the perfect timing. 

    When magic is given, a little of it always escapes into the world. A little is all they need. The eclipse, a thing that should have been so temporary, does not go away. The sun and the moon still, held in place by forces unseen. The world is dark, so dark. The sky is cloudy, the stars lost. There is naught but a sliver of light, a tiny halo of hope in the darkness that falls on not just the Plains, but the whole of Beqanna.

    They like it better this way. In darkness they were born, and in darkness they will stay. They come forth some from crevices, some from the earth itself, and some from the bodies of those who once dared to venture to their homeland, the world beyond the afterlife.
    (One should not leave gates open for too long, you see. All sorts of awful things can sneak through.)
    The monsters - there is no formal name for them, for they are beasts foreign to Beqanna’s shores - come forth. They had lain dormant, since crossing into the world, with only a piece of activity here or there – a raven queen snatched from a burning kingdom, mayhap. But with this deluge of magic, their aberrant senses prickle, and they stir into fervency. Some of them cry out, a keening noise. Some of the cries just sound like static.
    Some are silent, and they are perhaps the worst.

    One world is not enough for them, and they wreak havoc on this one as well. They torture and maim, they kidnap and steal. Some rip open the ground beneath your feet and take you to a place unknown, a place of cold and damp and darkness so thorough perhaps you are truly dead, or at least, better off dead. 

    The faeries do nothing, though why is uncertain. Perhaps they cannot or perhaps they do not care. After all, it was the mortals of Beqanna who broke the gates; it was Carnage who created the afterlife and Carnage who let the monsters in. Perhaps they are willing to let you learn a lesson, or perhaps their powers have been crippled too.

    Ah, wasn’t it better when you’d simply forgotten? But you cannot forget now. 

    Welcome back to version 22. Wasn't the Alliance a nice distraction? Check out this doc to see what's happening now.

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