LOST IN THE INFINITE (1)
-Campfire Tales-
1 Rain is pouring down upon you all, splashing upon your frozen skin and draining what precious warmth you still hold within you.
2 The party are travelling through the mountains when they are attacked by what seems to be wolves in the darkness. In the icy cold and cloying mud they fight, killing the leader of the pack and driving what's left of the beasts into the night. Injured and cold, the party see a light in the distance and find themselves in a strange inn. The owner asks for their orders, for free from an ex adventurer of course, before heading into the back to get them sorted. There's a scratching at the front door. A new man enters from the door the owner left through. He introduces himself as a travelling bard and sits with them, seemingly friendly, and asks if they want to play a game. He describes it as a more interactive way of storytelling that will pass the time until their food and drinks arrive. In this game of sorts, you pretend to be someone else and go on wild and exotic adventures. He begins describing the tale, as muffled growling is heard outside.
3 The party, now using their second characters, are travelling along a path on a job from the local lord. Apparently there are rumours of an ancient evil awakening, causing villagers to flee their homes, and when they return the town is invariably destroyed by mysterious means. On route, they meet an old man by the side of the road asleep. When woken, he joins the party - the town they are enroute to is the town he was born in. He introduces himself as a wandering monk, not the fighting kind, from a far off land, asks their motive, and expands on the story of the ancient evil. He is doubtful that it has awoken - it is wrapped in chains forged of ballads deep beneath the earth in inescapable slumber, since in a story the victory of good over evil is guaranteed. When they reach the village, there are bandits on the lookout towers. The party decides to perform a bit of arson, shocking the Bard into laughter. After a violent and fiery assault on the town the bandits are defeated, and the leader of the brigands explains they were using the ‘ancient evil’ to trick people into leaving their homes undefended. The old man thanks you for bringing closure to the town, and offers to entertain them for the night before he once more heads off. He explains he came across a game in his travels that children would play as they dreamt of becoming adventurers. He says “I don’t expect you’ve heard of it before, so let me make you some characters and tell you a tale of a world where darkness truly is awakening…” It begins like this:
LOST IN THE INFINITE (2)
-The Storyteller-
4 The band have been hired by the king to rescue his daughter, who he believes has been kidnapped by a terrifying monster. They travel for days and nights, until they reach the tower the kidnapper - a dragon - is using as a lair. When it sees the party, it erupts in anger - it seems it was trying to use the princess for inhumane experiments because of her strange pink hair, in order to learn the weakness of a far greater evil that has started to awaken. It belittles the party for having no sight of the bigger picture, and the ‘greater good’. They defeat it and rescue the princess, but it is getting dark. She insists that they stay in the tower overnight, because it is the only safe place for miles around. To pass the time, she mentions to the party a game she was taught as a child, in order to help her learn her numbers. It begins like this:5 Rain is pouring down upon you all, splashing upon your frozen skin and draining what precious warmth you still hold within you. It sizzles and spits foul vapours when it hits the ground.
5 The party are travelling through the mountains when they are attacked by what seems to be wolves in the darkness. In the icy cold and cloying mud they fight, but something is wrong. This time they can see the beasts - disfigured creatures of ropey pink sinew moulded crudely into canine form, speckled in bulging eyes and crudely torn open into whispering mouths. They laugh at the party and gibber cruel words - “It seems you have ventured too deep! Can you not feel the void of voids upon your skin?” . The party are dismembered one by one, the beasts tearing flesh and flaying skin from bone, and as the last party member falls the creatures speak in unison: “Indeed, chains of story are unbreakable. But a game where the good always triumphs?” The creature laughs. “Where is the fun in that?”
4 The princess frowns. “That’s not how it’s supposed to go.” She stands up, but as she goes to look outside the window it is obscured by the enormous eye of the dragon, undefeated. It has changed - the savage, noble creature seems to have been woven from pink sinew akin to the wolves from the Princess’s game. On each draconic scale is gnawing mouth and within each mouth a bloodshot, twitching eye. With a laugh, it brings the tower crashing down and kills the party, its breath weapon turning all it touches to spongy flesh.
3 The monk frowns. “Hmm. That is not what is supposed to happen.” He stands up, but from the shadows of the room footsteps are heard. The bandit’s corpses stagger inside, clumps of pink sinew falling from their gaping maws and empty sockets, every touch sprouting mouth-filled eyes from the party’s flesh. The heroes are buried under a crushing tide of writhing bodies.
2 The bard frowns. “I do believe that in stories such as these, the Heros and their party prevail. I apologise - sometimes the story just runs away from you.” Slowly, he begins to smile. Were his eyes always that dark? “Lucky that it is but a game, no?” There is a scratching at the door, and a four-legged shape flashes past the window. Slowly, the scratches stop. Slowly, the handle of the door turns. Slowly, the door creaks open, and standing in the light is a twisted mockery of a man, wrapped in pink sinew and riddled in weeping eyes and gibbering mouths. “You have done well freeing me, bard.” It says. “Did you think you would be rewarded?” The creature, in a moment of sick likeness to a human, snaps its fingers, before the bard collapses onto the table with a thud. “Fitting, don’t you think? He shall live forever, just as he wished, always on the brink of sleep and awakening, never sure whether the world around him is real or a story. And as for you…” It pauses for a second. “You may go free.” It smiles, accompanied by the sound of the bones of the wolves face splintering. “There is nothing I can do to you worse than your existing fate.” The creature turns around and leaves. The bar is empty. If the party checks the back room, the waiter from the beginning is dead on the floor.
1 “The party sit silently. They ponder over the last words of the Wolf. What horror approaches them? What end do they have in store? The world around them begins to crumble.” Everyone makes one last intelligence check, DC10. Those who succeed understand: “You see now. So that’s how it is. Even if you were to have won, you would never have lived past tonight. What even awaits after death to something that was never truly real?”