IN GIRUM IMUS NOCTE ET CONSUMIMUR IGNI
OurLadyOfWires
Uh-oh, better hide those FOALS!
- Joined
- Jan 7, 2024
- Messages
- 452
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- 7,654
[X] plan DENY BALDOMARE TO CULT, SHE'S OURS! (conditional version) (and Windy instead of Rarity)
-[X] (Book) Forge 3 (30 bits)
-[X] (Moth Fruit) Give it to Baldomare If we reach Moth or Winter or Edge 4, eat it otherwise
-[X] (Rarity) Emissary: (Fleeting Opportunity) Dissociate from Loremaster's fame
-[X] (Jade Whistle) Research Selene (Knock 2)
-[X] (Baldomare) Secret Histories Influence
-[X] (Selene) In order: Winter > Moth > Edge if levels are the same, if one of these reaches lvl 4 go with that one.
-[X] Attention of the Laws: Grail, use on the first valid target of the following: Stormchaser, Fluttershy, Soft Sweeps
-[X] Hintseekers: Track down other members of the Expedition
-[X] (Fleeting Opportunity) Stormchaser
-[X] (Fleeting Opportunity) Fluttershy
-[X] (Fleeting Opportunity) Soft Sweeps
-[X] (Fleeting Opportunity) Windy Flakes (WRITE IN OBJECTIVE)
--[X] Subtly check Windy's opinions and loyalty to the cult in view of the current events.
-[X] Mansus exploration (7 exploration actions) (3 actions remaining)
--[X] Take actions in order, repeating failed actions until we succeed or run out of actions
--[X] If we acquire a Wound or a Malus, skip to the Blank Plains step
--[X] Search out a new location in the Shattered Stairs
--[X] Fully explore the new location
--[X] Seek out the next Door and study it
--[X] Cross the Door, but don't spend an action on the other side
--[X] Search for new locations in the Blank Plains until locations are exhausted
--[X] Search for new locations in the Woods until locations are exhausted
-[X] (Moth Fruit) Give it to Baldomare If we reach Moth or Winter or Edge 4, eat it otherwise
-[X] (Jade Whistle) Research Selene (Knock 2)
-[X] (Baldomare) Secret Histories Influence
-[X] (Selene) In order: Winter > Moth > Edge if levels are the same, if one of these reaches lvl 4 go with that one.
-[X] Hintseekers: Track down other members of the Expedition
-[X] (Fleeting Opportunity) Stormchaser
-[X] (Fleeting Opportunity) Fluttershy
-[X] (Fleeting Opportunity) Soft Sweeps
-[X] (Fleeting Opportunity) Windy Flakes (WRITE IN OBJECTIVE)
--[X] Subtly check Windy's opinions and loyalty to the cult in view of the current events.
-[X] Mansus exploration (7 exploration actions) (3 actions remaining)
--[X] Take actions in order, repeating failed actions until we succeed or run out of actions
--[X] If we acquire a Wound or a Malus, skip to the Blank Plains step
--[X] Search out a new location in the Shattered Stairs
--[X] Fully explore the new location
--[X] Seek out the next Door and study it
--[X] Cross the Door, but don't spend an action on the other side
--[X] Search for new locations in the Blank Plains until locations are exhausted
--[X] Search for new locations in the Woods until locations are exhausted
- - -
The monarch SPOKE.
And from every corner of the Mansus His words were heard, his utterance a decree that reshaped the House itself. For the light of the Glory was His word, and His words were the light of the Glory.
It was as it had once been, long ago, and as it was always meant to be.
Magnificent.
Splendorous.
… IRRESISTIBLE.
And as those words spread, the Mansus itself erupted into a frenzy of activity. As if all in the House had been collectively holding their breath, for an entire Era, waiting for that moment alone.
None were left unmoved. None could avoid, or resist, enacting their own agendas.
And from your bosom, one such shadow erupted.
THIGH-BORN DAPPLE-KING rose from your shadows, wings fluttering towards the skies even as the heavens were colored in fire. The deep dark of your unknown reaches erupting in shrieking cheers as he flew towards his fate.
Your shadows cheered, even as the entirety of the Mansus screamed in panic. Or, perhaps, your shadows cheered because their nature was to be the opposite of that panic. But that matters not.
For you did not cheer, nor did you panic or cry. You only watched.
You only watched, with yearn and wanting, as he rose higher and higher.
And he fluttered through the cold plains, where the dead themselves stopped their march to witness what happened above.
For even the dead felt what came to pass.
And he fluttered through the maze of stairs, as its butterfly-net of criss-crossing paths broke and bent, for the first time ever aiding rather than hindering passage.
For there would no longer be a need to sort the worthy.
And he fluttered through the very heart of the House, as its cobwebs of passages ceased to be, their purposes fulfilled.
For there would no longer be a need for the Climb.
And he fluttered through the higher reaches, as they toppled and fell towards down below, their denizens rejoicing and mourning over what had happened.
For their time was coming to an end.
Higher and higher he flew. And you watched, as his eyes grew wider and brighter, and his wings dappled not with the blotches of black ink, but with flaming holed opened by the falling shards.
Higher and higher he flew, until he reached that which he had always desired.
Into the night circle he flew, until the fire consumed him.
And that sight was seared into your memory forever.
VINE-CROWNED MOTH-KING gained what he had always desired.
He tasted, and bathed, and drowned in the ultimate light of the king's Glorious crown.
And its touch obliterated him.
His burnt carcass fell down from the skies of the House like a gleaming star made of black onyx.
When his fall finally struck your face, what remained of him disintegrated into ash. And for all that the howling winds eagerly picked at them, and the other things took pieces of his remains for themselves, it was you who retained the greatest memento.
For the pitch-black shape of his silhouette, that charred imprint from when his scorched body gleefully hit you, was branded into your surface forever.
He was the first to go, when it happened. Although he certainly would not be the last.
It would be a long, long time before the raucous panic of the House finally settled, and the last piece of stone fell and was laid to rest.
But did he really wish for that? Was that need to reach for the Light, that famished lust, truly his? Or was he just enacting his own nature, being helpless to resist the allure even as his wings moved against his will and he flew higher and higher?
You had always wondered that. You had always wondered what was the true nature, that dwelled inside his chaotic mind.
And as his ashen remains washed over your roots, you finally learned the answer to that question.
For it was from those ashes that you acquired the gift of thought.
Or who knows, maybe you just inherited his. It would not have been the first time that life stirred from ashes, nor the first time the MOTH claimed life by stealing the skin of another.
IN
GI
RUM
IMUS
NOC
TE
ET
CON
SUMI
MUR
IG
NI
SNIP
SNIP
SNI-ou open your eyes. And although you have no idea of when you closed them, you don't really feel like you have just woken up either.
And from every corner of the Mansus His words were heard, his utterance a decree that reshaped the House itself. For the light of the Glory was His word, and His words were the light of the Glory.
It was as it had once been, long ago, and as it was always meant to be.
Magnificent.
Splendorous.
… IRRESISTIBLE.
And as those words spread, the Mansus itself erupted into a frenzy of activity. As if all in the House had been collectively holding their breath, for an entire Era, waiting for that moment alone.
None were left unmoved. None could avoid, or resist, enacting their own agendas.
And from your bosom, one such shadow erupted.
THIGH-BORN DAPPLE-KING rose from your shadows, wings fluttering towards the skies even as the heavens were colored in fire. The deep dark of your unknown reaches erupting in shrieking cheers as he flew towards his fate.
Your shadows cheered, even as the entirety of the Mansus screamed in panic. Or, perhaps, your shadows cheered because their nature was to be the opposite of that panic. But that matters not.
For you did not cheer, nor did you panic or cry. You only watched.
You only watched, with yearn and wanting, as he rose higher and higher.
And he fluttered through the cold plains, where the dead themselves stopped their march to witness what happened above.
For even the dead felt what came to pass.
And he fluttered through the maze of stairs, as its butterfly-net of criss-crossing paths broke and bent, for the first time ever aiding rather than hindering passage.
For there would no longer be a need to sort the worthy.
And he fluttered through the very heart of the House, as its cobwebs of passages ceased to be, their purposes fulfilled.
For there would no longer be a need for the Climb.
And he fluttered through the higher reaches, as they toppled and fell towards down below, their denizens rejoicing and mourning over what had happened.
For their time was coming to an end.
Higher and higher he flew. And you watched, as his eyes grew wider and brighter, and his wings dappled not with the blotches of black ink, but with flaming holed opened by the falling shards.
Higher and higher he flew, until he reached that which he had always desired.
Into the night circle he flew, until the fire consumed him.
And that sight was seared into your memory forever.
VINE-CROWNED MOTH-KING gained what he had always desired.
He tasted, and bathed, and drowned in the ultimate light of the king's Glorious crown.
And its touch obliterated him.
His burnt carcass fell down from the skies of the House like a gleaming star made of black onyx.
When his fall finally struck your face, what remained of him disintegrated into ash. And for all that the howling winds eagerly picked at them, and the other things took pieces of his remains for themselves, it was you who retained the greatest memento.
For the pitch-black shape of his silhouette, that charred imprint from when his scorched body gleefully hit you, was branded into your surface forever.
He was the first to go, when it happened. Although he certainly would not be the last.
It would be a long, long time before the raucous panic of the House finally settled, and the last piece of stone fell and was laid to rest.
But did he really wish for that? Was that need to reach for the Light, that famished lust, truly his? Or was he just enacting his own nature, being helpless to resist the allure even as his wings moved against his will and he flew higher and higher?
You had always wondered that. You had always wondered what was the true nature, that dwelled inside his chaotic mind.
And as his ashen remains washed over your roots, you finally learned the answer to that question.
For it was from those ashes that you acquired the gift of thought.
Or who knows, maybe you just inherited his. It would not have been the first time that life stirred from ashes, nor the first time the MOTH claimed life by stealing the skin of another.
IN
GI
RUM
IMUS
NOC
TE
ET
CON
SUMI
MUR
IG
NI
SNIP
SNIP
SNI-ou open your eyes. And although you have no idea of when you closed them, you don't really feel like you have just woken up either.
In fact, you don't even feel like any time at all has passed. Your hoof is still raised, near your mouth. Your pose is still exactly as it was, just a second ago, as you finished raising the fruit to take the first bite from it.
And as you look down, you can even see that the fruit is still on your hoof.
However, you can see the fruit for what it truly is, now.
Because upon your hoof, you have nothing but a small pile of ashes. In your mouth, as well, there is nothing but ashes, from the mouthful that you have just taken a bite of.
Still, you are not surprised.
You had thought that you would be surprised. You had thought that, after you had taken a bite from the fruit, you would collapse, and perhaps wake up where you are several hours later. You had thought, perhaps, that something about you, a part of your body or your mind or your soul, would even have been changed by the experience. Or that the fruit would have no effect until you went to sleep, after eating it, and that you would have been dragged kicking and screaming into some ancient pit of dreams.
But no, none of that happened.
You have just… relived a memory, that was not yours.
You have just… realized certain things, and can now see them for what they truly are.
And that is why you are not surprised by the true nature of the fruit, the hoof-full of ashes that you are holding, and neither you are disturbed by the dry lump of ashes inside your mouth.
The taste, you realize, is even slightly pleasant. Perhaps nostalgic.
And if nothing else, the ashes are certainly softer than splinters.
Maybe you finished the fruit, taking in bite after bite from the pile of ashes as your unfocused eyes kept gazing at the horizon, your mind thinking about nothing at all.
Maybe you discarded the fruit, burying the ashes in a discrete part of the garden where they would never be found, until a certain curious flower came out form the soil.
Maybe you did something else entirely.
You don't really remember.
For your mind is still full of memories that are not your own.
You have consumed the book "A Memory of the Woods". You have gained two scraps of MOTH Lore.
Your MOTH Lore is now level four.