Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-30014014-20180915143651

The Drifters blankly stare at the cacophony, rattling under their shackles. One of them feels the bright burn to his left flank. It's hand, absent of the unrestin blade clapse on said flank, pulling an orchid stone within its hand. One made in two, two made in four, joined by the second.

The stones glide by themselves, drawn in by the impromptu inlux of misery and wiped life. A boon not seen the Metaphorical Shifting, once when the current lordress sat upon the dark throne, governing a change among the deviants. A massive reaping of life. Life burned away in harrowing anguish, the last vision of the people becoming the sight of this light of omens...

The stone, known as Agony Gems, draw in the harrowed souls. Souls of kin, burned in confusion. Burned in imminence. Burned in riesignation or futile defiance. Burned in....burned...in... A͕̘͓̻̙ͅͅg̻o̵̤͈̫̜͔͉͔n̞͔̮̗̫y̲...

Did they see this coming? Adrift, in this realm ruled by old and ancient, trusting of those who did not yield to the Shift. Promised to fairness. But now, devoid of life by one of them. The one who claims to be their all-father. They writhe in confusion, utterly refusing to accept what has become of them. How one of those vampires had simply cat them to the void. Memories replay, further burrowing in the souls' psyches, twisting their confusion and agony, into inhumane hate with each inch, the memory becoming further howling.

Echoes of their ancestors resonate with this pain, broadcasting a mirroed anguish. Drawn in by the comforting arms of the long dead, the fresh deceased join in the gem, forever bound to it. Hundreds...

Thousands...

Tens of thousands...

A hundred thousand, now pledged to unending hatred for the beast-kind, from the past to the present. After all, aren't they all the same????

"You have drifted away in the wretched claws of those things you called lords. My kin...I'm sorry to say I have forseen this reaping of lives. But you saw it now...felt it...lived it. You are angry, I understand that..."

The gray man briefly walks from the anchor that is Prad, eyes shut, cut from the world as the drifters scurry back to their master, hold four distinct Agony Gems. All four, veiled in the fold between world, where life is inexistant, as the gray one, as his phantoms, as his anchor.

The gray one opens his palms to the floating stones, each vestiges of 25,000 lives cut short, craddling them on his bossom. The lifeless plane of the is turned orchid as the deceased all surround the gray one, who in turns turn to witness the people standing amidst, fleeting in their forms. His voice turns compassionate "You have died as you have lived: under the heels of those animals, discarded as trash...rubbish by their hands. But, I am here now. My kin is here...your anguish is our anguish. And our pain...belongs to them..."

All turn to face the giant, basking in its casual toll of life. Then beyond, in the secluded marches, where more people live, under the rule of vampires. Soon, they fade back to the gems, marching within as their new domain of torment, to use it as a fresh weapon. The gems sunder under vortexs made of cataclysm and metal, a gateway to yet another realm. The gray man himself feels his pull back to his anchor, deeper in this lifeless land he walks upon. He resists not...

Prad's eyes return to the current realm, yet afflicted with his combat toll. The drifters stand beside him, away in the fold of this realm. They wait...