@ShuraKen the third, please <3
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TOPIC | A Writer's Doors Game
@ShuraKen
I guess, since no one else volunteered for it so far, I shall take it upon myself to venture through thescary second door, please.
I guess, since no one else volunteered for it so far, I shall take it upon myself to venture through the
@ShuraKen
I guess, since no one else volunteered for it so far, I shall take it upon myself to venture through thescary second door, please.
I guess, since no one else volunteered for it so far, I shall take it upon myself to venture through the
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@Ilovepits You grab the lantern and begin to make your way down; it's deeper than you originally thought. The stairs are steep and you keep on hand on the walls for balance as you grip the lantern. It's surprisingly...not as creepy as you'd expect; the sound of bubbling reaching your ears as you make it to the bottom. There, an empty cauldron. Around it, forgotten or left behind, spare materials; well, maybe you'd have some use for them.
[center][item=Firestarter] [item=Yellow Ooze] [item=Mangled Textile] [item=Purple Sludge][/center]
@Zikul You reach forward, opening the door. For some reason, you expect it to be glowing, to have visible energy flowing through it but...there is nothing. Absolutely nothing to match the aura you feel; all you see when you open the door is the other side. You gather your courage to walk through and you are still in the empty village. Just on the opposite side of the door. Quite literally, the door just seems lead nowhere. It's disappointing, to say the least. Before you can walk away, there's a little giggle; and suddenly the air just [i]shimmers[/i]. From nowhere -- or maybe just not visible to the eyes -- a Spiral moves forward, through the door you [i]just[/i] passed through, and you know she wasn't there. Still, she smiles, serene and kind, gentle and motherly, [b]"not many can enter, but the fact that you've found the entrance is still something. Don't worry, it's a good thing."[/b] she giggles.
[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=33819452]
[img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/338195/33819452_350.png[/img]
[/url][/center]
@SugaywaraKoushi You crawl through, hands and knees brushing the dirt as you wriggle through the entrance. With a huff, you manage to make it past and, [i]oh[/i], you're only able to sit up inside. Too small to stand, at least you can still sit comfortably. You look around, noticing the tiny little critters that seem to be having...tea? A tea party for these little guys, how quaint. One scurries up to you, offering a new cup of tea and who're you to say no to these cute little guys?
[center][item=Ember Mouse] [item=Roan Mouse] [item=Dwarf Fawn] [item=Micro Deer][/center]
@Ilovepits You grab the lantern and begin to make your way down; it's deeper than you originally thought. The stairs are steep and you keep on hand on the walls for balance as you grip the lantern. It's surprisingly...not as creepy as you'd expect; the sound of bubbling reaching your ears as you make it to the bottom. There, an empty cauldron. Around it, forgotten or left behind, spare materials; well, maybe you'd have some use for them.
@Zikul You reach forward, opening the door. For some reason, you expect it to be glowing, to have visible energy flowing through it but...there is nothing. Absolutely nothing to match the aura you feel; all you see when you open the door is the other side. You gather your courage to walk through and you are still in the empty village. Just on the opposite side of the door. Quite literally, the door just seems lead nowhere. It's disappointing, to say the least. Before you can walk away, there's a little giggle; and suddenly the air just shimmers. From nowhere -- or maybe just not visible to the eyes -- a Spiral moves forward, through the door you just passed through, and you know she wasn't there. Still, she smiles, serene and kind, gentle and motherly, "not many can enter, but the fact that you've found the entrance is still something. Don't worry, it's a good thing." she giggles.
@SugaywaraKoushi You crawl through, hands and knees brushing the dirt as you wriggle through the entrance. With a huff, you manage to make it past and, oh, you're only able to sit up inside. Too small to stand, at least you can still sit comfortably. You look around, noticing the tiny little critters that seem to be having...tea? A tea party for these little guys, how quaint. One scurries up to you, offering a new cup of tea and who're you to say no to these cute little guys?
@Zikul You reach forward, opening the door. For some reason, you expect it to be glowing, to have visible energy flowing through it but...there is nothing. Absolutely nothing to match the aura you feel; all you see when you open the door is the other side. You gather your courage to walk through and you are still in the empty village. Just on the opposite side of the door. Quite literally, the door just seems lead nowhere. It's disappointing, to say the least. Before you can walk away, there's a little giggle; and suddenly the air just shimmers. From nowhere -- or maybe just not visible to the eyes -- a Spiral moves forward, through the door you just passed through, and you know she wasn't there. Still, she smiles, serene and kind, gentle and motherly, "not many can enter, but the fact that you've found the entrance is still something. Don't worry, it's a good thing." she giggles.
@SugaywaraKoushi You crawl through, hands and knees brushing the dirt as you wriggle through the entrance. With a huff, you manage to make it past and, oh, you're only able to sit up inside. Too small to stand, at least you can still sit comfortably. You look around, noticing the tiny little critters that seem to be having...tea? A tea party for these little guys, how quaint. One scurries up to you, offering a new cup of tea and who're you to say no to these cute little guys?
Door 1. You've reached your destination somewhere within the Plaguelands - X marks the spot and what have you. At first you aren't sure you're even looking at the door - it looks more like a decomposing pile of something barely organic, and it reeks of something rotten. Still, as you dig through the tendrils of... gods know what... you manage to uncover something that looks like it might open. Here's to hoping that what's within isn't as bad as it looked.
Door 2. The second door is attached to a round little clay house in the middle of Dragonhome. You can peer through a hole at the center of the door, but doing so might prove a bit dissuading, as a rather strong scent of old, sweaty socks tickle your nostrils as soon as you get close - you wonder to yourself if the Earthshaker perhaps forgot to tell his creations to wash their feet once in a while.
Door 3. You're a bit late for your delivery to the Trading Post, but it's alright, because Crim seem occupied with some other dragon's business. While you wait for her to finish her business with the Spiral, you go talking to Swipp. Or, at least that was what you'd planned on doing - Swipp's wagon might be there, but the only one attending the business is his daughter, the less pleasant of the two. Sighing to yourself, you resign to visiting Baldwin, who at least is very visibly alone, probably due to the lengthy tales he bores everyone with. However, as you walk towards his stall, you notice something unusual in the grass just near the cauldron: A dusty iron trap door, seemingly leeding straight into the ground. Fascinated by it, you ask Baldwin what it's for, but he acts like he's never seen it before, and so you decide to investigate.
Door 2. The second door is attached to a round little clay house in the middle of Dragonhome. You can peer through a hole at the center of the door, but doing so might prove a bit dissuading, as a rather strong scent of old, sweaty socks tickle your nostrils as soon as you get close - you wonder to yourself if the Earthshaker perhaps forgot to tell his creations to wash their feet once in a while.
Door 3. You're a bit late for your delivery to the Trading Post, but it's alright, because Crim seem occupied with some other dragon's business. While you wait for her to finish her business with the Spiral, you go talking to Swipp. Or, at least that was what you'd planned on doing - Swipp's wagon might be there, but the only one attending the business is his daughter, the less pleasant of the two. Sighing to yourself, you resign to visiting Baldwin, who at least is very visibly alone, probably due to the lengthy tales he bores everyone with. However, as you walk towards his stall, you notice something unusual in the grass just near the cauldron: A dusty iron trap door, seemingly leeding straight into the ground. Fascinated by it, you ask Baldwin what it's for, but he acts like he's never seen it before, and so you decide to investigate.
Door 1. You've reached your destination somewhere within the Plaguelands - X marks the spot and what have you. At first you aren't sure you're even looking at the door - it looks more like a decomposing pile of something barely organic, and it reeks of something rotten. Still, as you dig through the tendrils of... gods know what... you manage to uncover something that looks like it might open. Here's to hoping that what's within isn't as bad as it looked.
Door 2. The second door is attached to a round little clay house in the middle of Dragonhome. You can peer through a hole at the center of the door, but doing so might prove a bit dissuading, as a rather strong scent of old, sweaty socks tickle your nostrils as soon as you get close - you wonder to yourself if the Earthshaker perhaps forgot to tell his creations to wash their feet once in a while.
Door 3. You're a bit late for your delivery to the Trading Post, but it's alright, because Crim seem occupied with some other dragon's business. While you wait for her to finish her business with the Spiral, you go talking to Swipp. Or, at least that was what you'd planned on doing - Swipp's wagon might be there, but the only one attending the business is his daughter, the less pleasant of the two. Sighing to yourself, you resign to visiting Baldwin, who at least is very visibly alone, probably due to the lengthy tales he bores everyone with. However, as you walk towards his stall, you notice something unusual in the grass just near the cauldron: A dusty iron trap door, seemingly leeding straight into the ground. Fascinated by it, you ask Baldwin what it's for, but he acts like he's never seen it before, and so you decide to investigate.
Door 2. The second door is attached to a round little clay house in the middle of Dragonhome. You can peer through a hole at the center of the door, but doing so might prove a bit dissuading, as a rather strong scent of old, sweaty socks tickle your nostrils as soon as you get close - you wonder to yourself if the Earthshaker perhaps forgot to tell his creations to wash their feet once in a while.
Door 3. You're a bit late for your delivery to the Trading Post, but it's alright, because Crim seem occupied with some other dragon's business. While you wait for her to finish her business with the Spiral, you go talking to Swipp. Or, at least that was what you'd planned on doing - Swipp's wagon might be there, but the only one attending the business is his daughter, the less pleasant of the two. Sighing to yourself, you resign to visiting Baldwin, who at least is very visibly alone, probably due to the lengthy tales he bores everyone with. However, as you walk towards his stall, you notice something unusual in the grass just near the cauldron: A dusty iron trap door, seemingly leeding straight into the ground. Fascinated by it, you ask Baldwin what it's for, but he acts like he's never seen it before, and so you decide to investigate.
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[b]Door [u]1[/u], claimed by @Kiradog234. [/b]Prying open the door feels almost like prying open an unwilling eyelid – a comparison that makes you somewhat uneasy with yourself and your perceived intrusion. Perhaps it would’ve been better to leave it all be? After all, the man who gave you the map seemed very shady indeed, and now that you think about it, it strikes you that maybe you should’ve considered the possibility of a trap, instead of venturing on like a fool. Instinct, however, seem to drive you to press harder, and finally the membranes flutter open and let you into...
into a surprisingly untouoched inner sanctum. It’s almost like stepping out of the moist of the Plaguelands and into the dry underground dwellings typical of Dragonhome – it smells of fresh dirt and tea. As you step in, a dragon straightens up from his chair at the end of the room.
“You must be my rendezvous,” he’s a [i]bogsneak[/i], and he’s [i]huge[/i], and even though he’s clasping a big, smoking pot of aromatic tea, nothing can mask that strange scent of his, “yes, yes,” he says upon noticing your perplexed expression, “I know, I’m not like other dragons. I don’t have a name, I don’t have a family, and I don’t have draconic blood. I’m a parasite,” he nods to you, “I know it might be a frightening prospect, but please, I mean no harm. Here, read this,” he hands you a scroll with his life story, and some science notes on the nature of his ailment, “all I ask is that you take me with you. They’ll find me, otherwise.”
[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=34720359]
[img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/347204/34720359_350.png[/img]
[/url] [/center]
[i]Details of his state of being is in his info, if you wish to play![/i]
[b]Door[u] 2[/u], claimed by @Leyii. [/b]You nudge the door tryingly, only to discover it won’t budge. Determined to get in, you nudge it again, and then again, until you notice a little plate next to the door.
[b][i]PULL TO OPEN. [/i][/b]Says the sign. You feel a bit embarassed, and quickly look around to see that no one noticed that – you’re fine, you’re alone, and you manage to stretch an arm through the hole to pull the door open.
The room inside is murky, but lights up as you enter. Flickering embers descend from the ceiling, and light up a rather pristine, white cheramic chamber. Large, wooden basins outline the walls right and left of you, bubbles are rising from some of them, as wooden ladels seem to stir their contents.
It takes you not too long to figure out what it is – a laundry room. Perhaps not as exciting as you had hope, but at least that explains the scent of socks. That said, perhaps someone’s forgotten something neat in one of their pockets? Always worth to check out.
Okay, so [i]maybe[/i] dipping into each and every one of the washing buckets wasn’t such a good idea, because now you’re wet, covered in foam, and if anyone came into the room now, they’d probably find this even [i]more[/i] laughable than the fact that you [i]pushed[/i] on a [i]pull[/i] door (you still can’t get over the fact that you missed the sign). Still, though, it actually turns out to be worth it. As you sift through a pile of bags, you find an old parchment with some kind of inscription – you’ll have to take it home to analyze it further, but for now, it’s a really neat piece of magical paper.
[center][item=Tertiary Gene: Okapi][/center]
[b]Door [u]3[/u], claimed by @FlamesEmbrace. [/b]For a rusty door that seems to have been forgotten for the better half of a century, this one opens surprisingly smoothly – not even as much as a creak. A circular stair case of the same withered metal leads you down, so far that once you reach the bottom floor, you’re positive the entire world is spinning around you – either that, or you’ve been turned into a Spiral.
Dizziness aside, you’ve ended yourself up in a room that could best be described as an anti-climax. There’s nothing there but earth. Damp earth, mushrooms... you struggle to call this a room at all, it’s more like a cavern of dirt. After that long climb down, it leaves you a bit frustrated, so you do what all self respecting dragons would do – you kick the ground.
And then you fall over, because[i] holy Flamecaller[/i], you just stubbed your toe so hard you’re positive you’ve broken it off of your foot. Once you’ve decided that you’re not dying from pain anymore, you’re relieved to discover that your little toe is still firmly attached to your foot, albeit a bit swollen.
Surly, you turn back to the ground, squinting at... at the corner of a metal crate. That explains the toughness.
It takes you around thirty minutes to dig it up, granting you sore claws on top of the sore toe, and you swear to yourself that if it’s not worth it, you’ll take it out on Baldwin because, let’s be honest, he’d be the kind of person to set you up like this.
Except, as you open the crate, you find that it might have been kind of worth it as well – you know how to read this scroll, well enough to notice it’s a gene change. Not the awesomest in the world, but certainly not worthless. Who knows, you might even be able to scam Crim out of a great deal of gold for it?
[center][item=Primary Gene: Skink][/center]
Door 1, claimed by @Kiradog234. Prying open the door feels almost like prying open an unwilling eyelid – a comparison that makes you somewhat uneasy with yourself and your perceived intrusion. Perhaps it would’ve been better to leave it all be? After all, the man who gave you the map seemed very shady indeed, and now that you think about it, it strikes you that maybe you should’ve considered the possibility of a trap, instead of venturing on like a fool. Instinct, however, seem to drive you to press harder, and finally the membranes flutter open and let you into...
into a surprisingly untouoched inner sanctum. It’s almost like stepping out of the moist of the Plaguelands and into the dry underground dwellings typical of Dragonhome – it smells of fresh dirt and tea. As you step in, a dragon straightens up from his chair at the end of the room.
“You must be my rendezvous,” he’s a bogsneak, and he’s huge, and even though he’s clasping a big, smoking pot of aromatic tea, nothing can mask that strange scent of his, “yes, yes,” he says upon noticing your perplexed expression, “I know, I’m not like other dragons. I don’t have a name, I don’t have a family, and I don’t have draconic blood. I’m a parasite,” he nods to you, “I know it might be a frightening prospect, but please, I mean no harm. Here, read this,” he hands you a scroll with his life story, and some science notes on the nature of his ailment, “all I ask is that you take me with you. They’ll find me, otherwise.”
Details of his state of being is in his info, if you wish to play!
Door 2, claimed by @Leyii. You nudge the door tryingly, only to discover it won’t budge. Determined to get in, you nudge it again, and then again, until you notice a little plate next to the door.
PULL TO OPEN. Says the sign. You feel a bit embarassed, and quickly look around to see that no one noticed that – you’re fine, you’re alone, and you manage to stretch an arm through the hole to pull the door open.
The room inside is murky, but lights up as you enter. Flickering embers descend from the ceiling, and light up a rather pristine, white cheramic chamber. Large, wooden basins outline the walls right and left of you, bubbles are rising from some of them, as wooden ladels seem to stir their contents.
It takes you not too long to figure out what it is – a laundry room. Perhaps not as exciting as you had hope, but at least that explains the scent of socks. That said, perhaps someone’s forgotten something neat in one of their pockets? Always worth to check out.
Okay, so maybe dipping into each and every one of the washing buckets wasn’t such a good idea, because now you’re wet, covered in foam, and if anyone came into the room now, they’d probably find this even more laughable than the fact that you pushed on a pull door (you still can’t get over the fact that you missed the sign). Still, though, it actually turns out to be worth it. As you sift through a pile of bags, you find an old parchment with some kind of inscription – you’ll have to take it home to analyze it further, but for now, it’s a really neat piece of magical paper.
Door 3, claimed by @FlamesEmbrace. For a rusty door that seems to have been forgotten for the better half of a century, this one opens surprisingly smoothly – not even as much as a creak. A circular stair case of the same withered metal leads you down, so far that once you reach the bottom floor, you’re positive the entire world is spinning around you – either that, or you’ve been turned into a Spiral.
Dizziness aside, you’ve ended yourself up in a room that could best be described as an anti-climax. There’s nothing there but earth. Damp earth, mushrooms... you struggle to call this a room at all, it’s more like a cavern of dirt. After that long climb down, it leaves you a bit frustrated, so you do what all self respecting dragons would do – you kick the ground.
And then you fall over, because holy Flamecaller, you just stubbed your toe so hard you’re positive you’ve broken it off of your foot. Once you’ve decided that you’re not dying from pain anymore, you’re relieved to discover that your little toe is still firmly attached to your foot, albeit a bit swollen.
Surly, you turn back to the ground, squinting at... at the corner of a metal crate. That explains the toughness.
It takes you around thirty minutes to dig it up, granting you sore claws on top of the sore toe, and you swear to yourself that if it’s not worth it, you’ll take it out on Baldwin because, let’s be honest, he’d be the kind of person to set you up like this.
Except, as you open the crate, you find that it might have been kind of worth it as well – you know how to read this scroll, well enough to notice it’s a gene change. Not the awesomest in the world, but certainly not worthless. Who knows, you might even be able to scam Crim out of a great deal of gold for it?
into a surprisingly untouoched inner sanctum. It’s almost like stepping out of the moist of the Plaguelands and into the dry underground dwellings typical of Dragonhome – it smells of fresh dirt and tea. As you step in, a dragon straightens up from his chair at the end of the room.
“You must be my rendezvous,” he’s a bogsneak, and he’s huge, and even though he’s clasping a big, smoking pot of aromatic tea, nothing can mask that strange scent of his, “yes, yes,” he says upon noticing your perplexed expression, “I know, I’m not like other dragons. I don’t have a name, I don’t have a family, and I don’t have draconic blood. I’m a parasite,” he nods to you, “I know it might be a frightening prospect, but please, I mean no harm. Here, read this,” he hands you a scroll with his life story, and some science notes on the nature of his ailment, “all I ask is that you take me with you. They’ll find me, otherwise.”
Details of his state of being is in his info, if you wish to play!
Door 2, claimed by @Leyii. You nudge the door tryingly, only to discover it won’t budge. Determined to get in, you nudge it again, and then again, until you notice a little plate next to the door.
PULL TO OPEN. Says the sign. You feel a bit embarassed, and quickly look around to see that no one noticed that – you’re fine, you’re alone, and you manage to stretch an arm through the hole to pull the door open.
The room inside is murky, but lights up as you enter. Flickering embers descend from the ceiling, and light up a rather pristine, white cheramic chamber. Large, wooden basins outline the walls right and left of you, bubbles are rising from some of them, as wooden ladels seem to stir their contents.
It takes you not too long to figure out what it is – a laundry room. Perhaps not as exciting as you had hope, but at least that explains the scent of socks. That said, perhaps someone’s forgotten something neat in one of their pockets? Always worth to check out.
Okay, so maybe dipping into each and every one of the washing buckets wasn’t such a good idea, because now you’re wet, covered in foam, and if anyone came into the room now, they’d probably find this even more laughable than the fact that you pushed on a pull door (you still can’t get over the fact that you missed the sign). Still, though, it actually turns out to be worth it. As you sift through a pile of bags, you find an old parchment with some kind of inscription – you’ll have to take it home to analyze it further, but for now, it’s a really neat piece of magical paper.
Door 3, claimed by @FlamesEmbrace. For a rusty door that seems to have been forgotten for the better half of a century, this one opens surprisingly smoothly – not even as much as a creak. A circular stair case of the same withered metal leads you down, so far that once you reach the bottom floor, you’re positive the entire world is spinning around you – either that, or you’ve been turned into a Spiral.
Dizziness aside, you’ve ended yourself up in a room that could best be described as an anti-climax. There’s nothing there but earth. Damp earth, mushrooms... you struggle to call this a room at all, it’s more like a cavern of dirt. After that long climb down, it leaves you a bit frustrated, so you do what all self respecting dragons would do – you kick the ground.
And then you fall over, because holy Flamecaller, you just stubbed your toe so hard you’re positive you’ve broken it off of your foot. Once you’ve decided that you’re not dying from pain anymore, you’re relieved to discover that your little toe is still firmly attached to your foot, albeit a bit swollen.
Surly, you turn back to the ground, squinting at... at the corner of a metal crate. That explains the toughness.
It takes you around thirty minutes to dig it up, granting you sore claws on top of the sore toe, and you swear to yourself that if it’s not worth it, you’ll take it out on Baldwin because, let’s be honest, he’d be the kind of person to set you up like this.
Except, as you open the crate, you find that it might have been kind of worth it as well – you know how to read this scroll, well enough to notice it’s a gene change. Not the awesomest in the world, but certainly not worthless. Who knows, you might even be able to scam Crim out of a great deal of gold for it?
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Door 1:
You have searched for her as, hoping to find a Door of this description. Hoping to find a Door hidden atop a mountain that has never existed. Now, you stand at its peak. Ahead of you is a void. It blends in almost perfectly with the scenery around it. This does not derail you. No, you have trained too long to be put off by such a thing. Your blunt talons ache as the endless Walk stops. It I sent here. Many have failed, many have given up on this treasure. This door. A grin splits your muzzle as you take in the dark, near invisible pit. It turns before you, wavering and wobbling through the air without ever moving, wonderful. You take a step forwards, calloused paws rough on the harsh stone ground. Thai is it, your life's purpose, all waits behind this door.....
Door 2:
You walked past it countless times, heard tales of it more time she than your care to count, and all this time. You were the key. Every day, you grasped that triangular brass door knob. Every day you tried and retried to yank and shove it into opening. Every day, you failed. It wasn't as if the door was anything special; a lump of badly carved wood with a carved tree in the middle. Why did it interest you so? You bare your teeth at the thing. It sits outside, attached to a towering pine tree, and, no one else is able to see it. You smirk as you recall the many times you engaged in fights over the door, the door that none could see, the door that only you could touch. This time though, the warm handle feels homely, all usual malice gone. The ritual was found in one of the newer books at the academy. So easy. You touched one claw to the handle, clicked the other against the side, one at a time. Then, shoved the handle in to the wood. There was a grinding crack as the metal slid into the contraption. Now, you wait.
Door 3:
Games, games games. Always Games. Never facts, never evidence. Always riddles and games. This time. This time it wouldn't be so, it couldn't be so, too many games, too many riddles. A cave of light sits before you, two spires of gold sticking up like fangs in its gaping maw. A bolt of adrenaline spikes you, urging you onwards. You head ticks to one side a couple of times, then you are still. The Plaguelands. Such a fun place full of those wretched puzzles. Of course, each was easily solved, each cracked under your mind. The cave. Millions have been here, it's nothing special, but your are here for is. Another tick, this time over to the other side. It's a shame that there is no one else here, you'd think at least a singular soul would be interested in a weapon that an destroy a Deity.
You have searched for her as, hoping to find a Door of this description. Hoping to find a Door hidden atop a mountain that has never existed. Now, you stand at its peak. Ahead of you is a void. It blends in almost perfectly with the scenery around it. This does not derail you. No, you have trained too long to be put off by such a thing. Your blunt talons ache as the endless Walk stops. It I sent here. Many have failed, many have given up on this treasure. This door. A grin splits your muzzle as you take in the dark, near invisible pit. It turns before you, wavering and wobbling through the air without ever moving, wonderful. You take a step forwards, calloused paws rough on the harsh stone ground. Thai is it, your life's purpose, all waits behind this door.....
Door 2:
You walked past it countless times, heard tales of it more time she than your care to count, and all this time. You were the key. Every day, you grasped that triangular brass door knob. Every day you tried and retried to yank and shove it into opening. Every day, you failed. It wasn't as if the door was anything special; a lump of badly carved wood with a carved tree in the middle. Why did it interest you so? You bare your teeth at the thing. It sits outside, attached to a towering pine tree, and, no one else is able to see it. You smirk as you recall the many times you engaged in fights over the door, the door that none could see, the door that only you could touch. This time though, the warm handle feels homely, all usual malice gone. The ritual was found in one of the newer books at the academy. So easy. You touched one claw to the handle, clicked the other against the side, one at a time. Then, shoved the handle in to the wood. There was a grinding crack as the metal slid into the contraption. Now, you wait.
Door 3:
Games, games games. Always Games. Never facts, never evidence. Always riddles and games. This time. This time it wouldn't be so, it couldn't be so, too many games, too many riddles. A cave of light sits before you, two spires of gold sticking up like fangs in its gaping maw. A bolt of adrenaline spikes you, urging you onwards. You head ticks to one side a couple of times, then you are still. The Plaguelands. Such a fun place full of those wretched puzzles. Of course, each was easily solved, each cracked under your mind. The cave. Millions have been here, it's nothing special, but your are here for is. Another tick, this time over to the other side. It's a shame that there is no one else here, you'd think at least a singular soul would be interested in a weapon that an destroy a Deity.
Door 1:
You have searched for her as, hoping to find a Door of this description. Hoping to find a Door hidden atop a mountain that has never existed. Now, you stand at its peak. Ahead of you is a void. It blends in almost perfectly with the scenery around it. This does not derail you. No, you have trained too long to be put off by such a thing. Your blunt talons ache as the endless Walk stops. It I sent here. Many have failed, many have given up on this treasure. This door. A grin splits your muzzle as you take in the dark, near invisible pit. It turns before you, wavering and wobbling through the air without ever moving, wonderful. You take a step forwards, calloused paws rough on the harsh stone ground. Thai is it, your life's purpose, all waits behind this door.....
Door 2:
You walked past it countless times, heard tales of it more time she than your care to count, and all this time. You were the key. Every day, you grasped that triangular brass door knob. Every day you tried and retried to yank and shove it into opening. Every day, you failed. It wasn't as if the door was anything special; a lump of badly carved wood with a carved tree in the middle. Why did it interest you so? You bare your teeth at the thing. It sits outside, attached to a towering pine tree, and, no one else is able to see it. You smirk as you recall the many times you engaged in fights over the door, the door that none could see, the door that only you could touch. This time though, the warm handle feels homely, all usual malice gone. The ritual was found in one of the newer books at the academy. So easy. You touched one claw to the handle, clicked the other against the side, one at a time. Then, shoved the handle in to the wood. There was a grinding crack as the metal slid into the contraption. Now, you wait.
Door 3:
Games, games games. Always Games. Never facts, never evidence. Always riddles and games. This time. This time it wouldn't be so, it couldn't be so, too many games, too many riddles. A cave of light sits before you, two spires of gold sticking up like fangs in its gaping maw. A bolt of adrenaline spikes you, urging you onwards. You head ticks to one side a couple of times, then you are still. The Plaguelands. Such a fun place full of those wretched puzzles. Of course, each was easily solved, each cracked under your mind. The cave. Millions have been here, it's nothing special, but your are here for is. Another tick, this time over to the other side. It's a shame that there is no one else here, you'd think at least a singular soul would be interested in a weapon that an destroy a Deity.
You have searched for her as, hoping to find a Door of this description. Hoping to find a Door hidden atop a mountain that has never existed. Now, you stand at its peak. Ahead of you is a void. It blends in almost perfectly with the scenery around it. This does not derail you. No, you have trained too long to be put off by such a thing. Your blunt talons ache as the endless Walk stops. It I sent here. Many have failed, many have given up on this treasure. This door. A grin splits your muzzle as you take in the dark, near invisible pit. It turns before you, wavering and wobbling through the air without ever moving, wonderful. You take a step forwards, calloused paws rough on the harsh stone ground. Thai is it, your life's purpose, all waits behind this door.....
Door 2:
You walked past it countless times, heard tales of it more time she than your care to count, and all this time. You were the key. Every day, you grasped that triangular brass door knob. Every day you tried and retried to yank and shove it into opening. Every day, you failed. It wasn't as if the door was anything special; a lump of badly carved wood with a carved tree in the middle. Why did it interest you so? You bare your teeth at the thing. It sits outside, attached to a towering pine tree, and, no one else is able to see it. You smirk as you recall the many times you engaged in fights over the door, the door that none could see, the door that only you could touch. This time though, the warm handle feels homely, all usual malice gone. The ritual was found in one of the newer books at the academy. So easy. You touched one claw to the handle, clicked the other against the side, one at a time. Then, shoved the handle in to the wood. There was a grinding crack as the metal slid into the contraption. Now, you wait.
Door 3:
Games, games games. Always Games. Never facts, never evidence. Always riddles and games. This time. This time it wouldn't be so, it couldn't be so, too many games, too many riddles. A cave of light sits before you, two spires of gold sticking up like fangs in its gaping maw. A bolt of adrenaline spikes you, urging you onwards. You head ticks to one side a couple of times, then you are still. The Plaguelands. Such a fun place full of those wretched puzzles. Of course, each was easily solved, each cracked under your mind. The cave. Millions have been here, it's nothing special, but your are here for is. Another tick, this time over to the other side. It's a shame that there is no one else here, you'd think at least a singular soul would be interested in a weapon that an destroy a Deity.
 
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