Horde of the Guardian

Game Master Ren Ashbell

Tassarion eyed the quill with suspicion now. He could hear nor feel no wind to be had, or see spells woven into either item in his hand. After some consideration, he opens the book again.

Taking the quill again in his hand, he spins it about in a reverse grip and analyzed the tip of the pen. He had no ink, and he had already searched the room. It looked sturdy enough.

He presses the pen into the fingertip of his left index finger until he drew a light droplet of blood and fills it as much as he can without going in too far. Then tries to write his name again in the book in blood.

You write your name in blood on the page, if color was discernable in this darkness you contemplate as you imagine the crimson viscosity you taint the pages with. The blood soaks into the page as imagined, but not through. These pages were thicker than most of the journal's their size. Standing there admiring both the penmanship and the durability of the journal you watch as after a few seconds the blood is then absorbed completely. No sign of ever had been written on, (including indentations). A brief moment later you watch as letters reform in a very elegant and impossibly neat, greeting:

Hello Tassarion

After A short pause they too, become absorbed back into the journal once more.

Not that it matters but you suffers 2 points of damage

His eyes narrow and zero in on the fading blood ink as it seeps into the page and disappears. Moments pass as he questions what he saw. Even as he regarded the book in his hand, he saw no magic, yet it had all seemed real. Fearing that some sorcerer was interfering with his mind his gaze again scans the chamber, and his breathing slowed and controlled as he reaches out with all his senses to again confirm that he was alone.

With another press of the quill on his finger, he saturates the quill again with his blood and inscribes a question on the page. "Who are you?"

once more your eyes glean over the pitch black room only to find disappointment once more as nothing appears to be here other than yourself.

There is a short pause before the letters begin taking shape, giving the illusion of thinking (or so it appears). The elegant writing appears once more, "greetings, it is a pleasure meeting you..." The text is both faded as it writes more. Seemingly in thought there is no response at first. "I do not recall any names... however, let me show you a memory... I should like to tell you a story" the ink fades shortly after you finish reading it, where once more, the pages seem to secrete more ink. This time, the lines became ever changing shapes, drawing themselves in and fading giving the illusion of recorded movement. What started as a dot, then a square, then a hallway as if you were zooming I at an alarming rate until the entire page is covered in detail.

DC16 will save, or you can choose to fail

Already suspicious, Tassarion instinctively reels from the magical presence that presses on his mind at first. But his curiosity gets the better of him, and lets the magic wash through and over him.

Centered on the page you'd been writing on in the journal a small dot appears, growing abnormally like a coffee stain on paper only it kept a perfectly symmetrical shape. Black and white shapes begin to form and grow then seemingly pass by as you watched. Unconsciously tunnel vision took over and you began to ignore your surroundings. A small breeze presses your hair against, then past your face and you begin free falling into a black and white landscape. Shapes and visions pass you at a speed that makes them impossible to truly admire or make out. The light vanishes for a moment turning into an ever growing unknown abyss swallowing up any vision you'd had prior. You continue falling... falling........ falling.... until you see in the distance, which gains upon you in mere seconds, that there are evenly and symmetrically placed lights below you. Entering this area you roll across a velvet carpeted floor of a hallway for a distance accumulative to the momentum you'd built. It is well lit and with many many doors.
You stand up unscathed but slightly shaken by what had just transpired. Eager to indulge on unknown information you begin checking doors. Most were locked while others where a mix of empty voids and mirrored hallways of the very one you walked. Soundless and colorless despite being well lit and infinite in both directions. Eventually you come to a door slightly cracked open. Pressing in the thump of your heartbeat,... or,... a heartbeat... rung in your ears. Pressing the door open reveals a forest under a starry sky just before the Crack of dawn. The vast landscapes seemingly infinite in size showing distant mountains beyond the height of the trees. You step out into what is now noticeable as a clearing feeling the crunch of the untouched vegetation below your feet and the dew begins to soak from your knees down.

'creeeeeeeeek!'

For the first time since being wherever this was, your senses picked up sound, movement and touch. Turning quickly you watch the door behind you shut close. No doorway appeared on this side and instead you see the other side of the clearing. Above clouds pass revealing a bright moon giving light to your surroundings. Inhaling you can smell a sweet aroma, glancing down hundreds of blue rose bushes decorate the clearing. Shifting on your heel to turn and view the scenery and its entirety you notice a pair of powder blue eyes peering back at you lit up only from the moon. They blink in and out of sight a couple times before retreating further into the darkness that the forest provided. Sun began peaking over the treetops cascading across the land welcomed by the sound of chirping birds, and a feint smell of.... sulfur?
You reach down with enough time to grab a rose and pluck it from its bush. A piercing of thorn through your fingertip creates a soreness as beads of blood drip off and fall to the floor.

'snap!'

A twig snaps making your jerk suddenly to look only to slip from the dew and uneven footing. You fall back and just as you suspect you'd land on a rose bush you instead land on a soft bedding of sorts. It is dark where you are but you look about and make out you are in the very same dark room again. Catching your breath realizing it was all just a dream a chill makes its way from your lower portion. From the knees down you are soaked and on reaching out the soreness of a small wound pricks from your fingertip... beside you on the cold floor you see the journal is closed and a single blue rose rests upon it.

From the darkness as you begin to stir the sound of rock grinding on rock emanates from just ahead and for the first time since you've been here, moonlight spills in. A steady stream of fresh air brushes past you and the smell of freedom becomes a reality.

This time you loose 50 hp

Aching and confused, Tassarion's eyes scan over his body, assessing his condition and identifying the liquid that soaked his legs.

After a moment of recovery, his eyes fall on the journal and tur blue rose that sat atop it. His vision, if that was what it was, still fresh in his mind. Suspicion and hesitation gave him pause where he otherwise might have retrieved them and went on his way.

He considered his options for a long moment before carefully lifting the journal so as not to touch the rose with his skin, and held it in front of him in both arms as he walked outside.