TW: AU
TW: Insanity
TW: Fog
TW: Oct2012

The fog had come from below, a thing that chilled the heart and souls of all those who were unfortunate enough to be draw into it’s colorless grasp. Wind and water, heat of the earth and the cool air- this was not of mortal means. The fog was an unnatural thing, it stood on the border, waiting silently to rise up, a threat to consume. A blight to not just mortals but immortals across the lands. The fog needed to be stopped, yet how could one stop that which could not be contained by any known means? It seemed a futile effort, a hopeless one, yet there was hope. Hope that came from mortal men and monsters alike.

Heros of the old order, taking up magical enchanted arms to fight for the sake of humanity. Creatures of the shadow lands, of teeth, claw, and tail- they might have too been a blight, but one evil could not consume another. Chaos could not be contained by this fog, this bleak colorless neutrality. Those of the Other World, the Dark Ones, were proud, and the idea they could be taken to the colorless fog bode them ill. Neither side could afford heavy losses, nor could either side afford to fall. In opposition these two peoples might be, but a greater threat had presented itself, and it would not be stopped by one force alone.

A Knight of Life, a Sharpshooter from the Order of the Sun, the Enchanter of the Runic Service, and the Bard of Death- four young heros all ordained in the old ways, armed with blade, bow and bullet- had set out with others after the festival of shadows to see the rising tide of the fog. It’s colorless mass greeted them, yet they had their orders from the High Council. It was time to go forth and discover the cause of this bane on the land and put an end to it’s impending invasion. So the four heros went out, called to arms, finding each other only by luck and chance. To go alone was folly, one that would doubtlessly end in tragedy. As they traveled into the unknown depths that blanketed as far as their eyes could see, dark illusions were conjured by forces unseen. Shadowspawn blocked their way. Yet they felt no pain as inky blackness touched them. A land without color, they were each other’s only hope for survival. In the otherwise barren wasteland.

To save or slay the illusion of an enemy unknown yet feel a pressing guilt, to be called thieves when they had stolen nothing, (not even the bard had taken a single thing from another, Lawful Neutral was he alignment), To be asked to aid a figment unknown of ages past, small creatures sacrificed for a trickster’s supper of sorts, to be asked to turn by the ones who mattered most to them, by but a mirror of themselves. The way of the fog was to mislead and misguide. It was a trap built to ensnare one’s mind and senses, to drain the will, the spirit before turning the fallen into it’s slaves. Slaves for which it had many and with each fallen could yet make more.

A call to arms from the High Council, the hero went to battle, a monstrous figure had emerged, perhaps the true source of the fog that threatened them all. Yet as the mortal heros arroved not all would be well. The Dark Ones present as well, they fought both creature of the Fog and those of the Order for Humanity. Chaos is uncontrollable, in seeps into the minds of all and twists them, reshapes them. Mortals and Immortals alike fell prey, twisted to become what they were not. Yet as the Fog Beast began to fall, it reformed, calling to Chaos to aid it in it’s hate for humanity. Chaos, true chaos infected the battlefield as friend and foe alike turned on allies. Dark Ones aiding that which their own kind also sought to destroy. Heros of humanity fighting if to save those twisted or give them a merciful end. The Each hero was beginning to feel the strain of chaos around them, their magical warns weakening as the onslaught upon them did not cease. As Fog and Chaos melded and slowly began to join as one. What should have been a fight so simple had turned into disorder and the hearts of man began to weaken. A Leader for Humanity appeared, calling for the end, for mercy upon those taken by Chaos, that it was time to fight and obey and save humanity as they had taken up arms to do did not sway some, and so the bard watched in horror as the heros who she had joined with broke apart.


The bard is the singer of songs, keeper of tales, and the story unfolding was one of tragedy.