(cw: death, thanatophobia, existential dread, blood, body horror)
A. The Graveyard There are no threats in this nightmare, no apparent violence or monsters to chase those who find themselves here. There is a field of lush red flowers glistening with what looks like dew beneath a wide, starry sky and full moon that paints the world almost as bright as daytime. There's a forest beyond the field with gentle blue shadows and strong white trunks. A warm wind rustles through the leaves and across the blossoms.
For those who begin to trek through the field, the scent of earthy decay will rise up with each step. Perhaps not so strange. There's a copper tang to it, though, and it will become rapidly apparent that the flowers are not simply red. They are not covered in dew, but fresh blood, bright and shining. The branches of the trees are bones rattling together. The bark of the trees are vertebrae.
A young woman is digging a grave in a clearing just beyond the trees. Her smile is warm as she looks up. "Oh! Hey, there, cousin. You're early, ain't you? Haven't finished digging. Mind waiting just here? Few more minutes and I'll get you to your Long Rest, don't you worry. It's a'coming."
B. Prophet Mercy's never had the abilities of a bard, but her voice rings out in something like song as she roams her nightmarish domain, searching for victims. This is what Brother Earth would want. It finally feels right to be with him again, to set aside the Spring Tide and return to the roots that have dug into her since her birth.
"Lay me down among the flowers. Lay me down upon the earth. Where the roots will weave around me Form the cloak of my rebirth.
Let me be among the flowers. Let my body serve them right. In the end our only purpose: Be the soil for blossoms bright.
Do not look unto the morrow When the end is drawing nigh. Just sit down among the blossoms. Rest your head, and dear, don't cry. For tonight you'll say goodbye."
If you see the Prophet of the Earth, she'll see you and flag you down. It's not a person's face she's looking at, though. Rather, her chin is tilted upward. It might be difficult to tell where her eyes are when they're pure white, the iris and pupil wiped away. "Huh... well, that's an interesting number you got up there."
Mercy Graves | OC | OTA
A. The Graveyard
There are no threats in this nightmare, no apparent violence or monsters to chase those who find themselves here. There is a field of lush red flowers glistening with what looks like dew beneath a wide, starry sky and full moon that paints the world almost as bright as daytime. There's a forest beyond the field with gentle blue shadows and strong white trunks. A warm wind rustles through the leaves and across the blossoms.
For those who begin to trek through the field, the scent of earthy decay will rise up with each step. Perhaps not so strange. There's a copper tang to it, though, and it will become rapidly apparent that the flowers are not simply red. They are not covered in dew, but fresh blood, bright and shining. The branches of the trees are bones rattling together. The bark of the trees are vertebrae.
A young woman is digging a grave in a clearing just beyond the trees. Her smile is warm as she looks up. "Oh! Hey, there, cousin. You're early, ain't you? Haven't finished digging. Mind waiting just here? Few more minutes and I'll get you to your Long Rest, don't you worry. It's a'coming."
B. Prophet
Mercy's never had the abilities of a bard, but her voice rings out in something like song as she roams her nightmarish domain, searching for victims. This is what Brother Earth would want. It finally feels right to be with him again, to set aside the Spring Tide and return to the roots that have dug into her since her birth.
"Lay me down among the flowers.
Lay me down upon the earth.
Where the roots will weave around me
Form the cloak of my rebirth.
Let me be among the flowers.
Let my body serve them right.
In the end our only purpose:
Be the soil for blossoms bright.
Do not look unto the morrow
When the end is drawing nigh.
Just sit down among the blossoms.
Rest your head, and dear, don't cry.
For tonight you'll say goodbye."
If you see the Prophet of the Earth, she'll see you and flag you down. It's not a person's face she's looking at, though. Rather, her chin is tilted upward. It might be difficult to tell where her eyes are when they're pure white, the iris and pupil wiped away. "Huh... well, that's an interesting number you got up there."