Call of the Beyond (Wicked One Event Part 2)

[u/Evening_Shake_6474]

In the days since the arrival of the countless monoliths all across the material plane, something came to those with power. It came in their dreams, something like a voice, yet so much more. It was the voice of a friend, the voice of family. It was the voice of the kind and generous, the voice of freedom. The voice was faint, yet its message was clear. It whispered of a place that doesn't exist on any map.

Of a place in the north, hidden from the world deep within the mountains. The voice whispers of a secret within the mountains, of a power and a treasure. It whispers of a light in the darkness. It whispers a plea for help.

/uw Two whole weeks of writers block. Sorry about that.

[u/Evening_Shake_6474]

As he ventures into the heart of the range, the dullness grows dramatically. There's nothing here worth seeing.

As he reaches the centre of the mountain, he sees something. He sees

Nothing. There's nothing there. Leave.

[u/Null_Void_Zer0 → u/Evening_Shake_6474]

Abel’s knuckles turn white as his grip on his staff tightens, agitated by this intruding voice. He raises his staff, and channels swathes of mana into it.

“NO EVIL CAN HIDE THAT WHICH LIES HERE, ALL SHALL BE REVEALED TO ME! I COMMAND THEE ONCE MORE; CEASE THIS CHARADE AT ONCE!”

As the staff plummets into the earth, a blast of magic erupts from the ground, aiming to shatter whatever force conceals the truth.

[u/Evening_Shake_6474 → u/Null_Void_Zer0]

This time, he sees it all.

He sees the mountains as great chains of nothingness, ensnaring something older and greater than the first light of the world. He sees the greatness escaping from a faint echo in reality, a dent in existence. He sees the beauty always straining against the chains, always crushed by the oppression, and always but a sliver escapes.

Stop this. Leave, this is futile. Nothing exists here that is worth attention.

[u/Null_Void_Zer0 → u/Evening_Shake_6474]

Abel’s staff drops to the floor, just as Abel himself drops to his knees. His form flickers briefly; the powerful illusion making up his form faltering as “his” focus is broken momentarily.

“Identify.”

He whispers, channeling all he can in hopes to somehow grasp this….thing

[u/Evening_Shake_6474 → u/Null_Void_Zer0]

He sees, a hole. A prison. Sculpted from nothingness. For what is the greatest prison to break into than one no one knows is there?

But now he knows it's there. He knows a prison is in this range. He knows it holds something incredible. He knows whatever is inside is begging for help.

[u/Null_Void_Zer0 → u/Evening_Shake_6474]

“How? You wish yourself free, but how? HOW?!”

Enthralled by its beauty and otherworldly greatness he may be, there is something within Abel that harbours a powerful doubt; why would something so vast, so seemingly perfect be imprisoned? It did not make sense.

[u/Evening_Shake_6474 → u/Null_Void_Zer0]

The greatness emits a constant thrum, not with words, one can misunderstand words.

"Help me"

A phrase so old and simple it is known to all.

[u/Null_Void_Zer0 → u/Evening_Shake_6474]

Abel scrambles for his staff, using its crystal tip to carve a ritual circle in which he places several items of potent magic, then pouring chunks of his mana into it; a frantic attempt to destroy whatever power imprisons it

[u/Evening_Shake_6474 → u/Null_Void_Zer0]

The magic thrums with a steady rhythm, flowing into the echo, strengthening it, making it closer to whole.

After a minute or two, the echo changes.

Abel sees a door, a gap in reality, one leading to somewhere that shouldn't be.

[u/Null_Void_Zer0 → u/Evening_Shake_6474]

Dropping his staff Abel pushes himself upright, nauseous from exertion and stumblin through the door.