Caligos Isle/saved posts 2018
Storyline
Topic: Ebon Gate Festival
Message #: 15406
Author: GS4-THANDIWE
Date: 10/1/2018
Subject: Sitting at the Rock over the Quay...
Keilipso peered over the edge of the outcropping, her left foot dangling over the mist-filled air, and her chin resting upon the knee of her bent right leg. She could see them gathering at the quay. She could see them scurrying about and making ready.
Pathetic, she thought to herself as she watched.
As she thought it, she glanced over her shoulder at the man behind her, but he ignored her presence and continued to boast about his prowess in the dive. He couldn't hear her thoughts, and even if he could, she was not so sure that he'd silence them. Then again, she continued to ponder... Everyone here is out for the mighty silver, so maybe he would.
Her eyes drifted closed, a strange lethargy slipping over her as the wind caused her body to sway. It had been a year. A full year that she’d been trapped here. A full year of waiting. A full year of attempting to pay off a debt.
No one listened to her anymore. She tried to issue warnings, tried to make them see what she could see, but somehow her words didn’t seem her own anymore. Every time she tried to speak, it was wrong. Even her body was betraying her.
She shook her head, dispelling the lethargy and ignoring the ache in her all-too-thin body. She might not know how yet, but she’d find a way to be free of her debt. To be free of this island. And to be free of the things that she was seeing.
A soft curse drew her eyes to the muscled man behind her.
"Bloody villagers are talking about the things they are seeing again," he sneered. Catching her gaze, he taunted her, "You gonna jump or not? You a little chicken? Bowk bowk bowk buh gaw!"
Her lips curling into a sneer of her own, Keilipso scrabbled across the ground and away from the clearing. If her words would betray her, then she'd find another way to make everyone see the things that she saw.
Shaking his head, the dark-haired diver turned back to watch the folks gathering and pretended to ignore the demented sylvan artist.
Topic: Ebon Gate Festival
Message #: 15446
Author: LUXELLE
Date: 10/2/2018
Subject: The Street Painter, the Painting, and The Loresong
NOTE: This was linked in a storyline synopsis page by GM Thandiwe, preserving here.
I was about to rest from all the window-shopping at Caligos Isle when several people stopped me in front of the Tavern to ask me to sing to a painting. I believe the artist was called Keilipso.
> You sense the threads of history resonating within a mist-shrouded island painting.
> look paint
Silver and indigo mist swirls lazily around a small island that bobs in an azure sea, its shores rocky and dappled with the froth of new waves. Plantlife, new and young, rises in the distance and a ragged mountain dotted with arcane buildings is painted in the shadows of charcoal and silver hues. An opening in the mist shows a small boat making its way towards the desolate place.
I have sung to plenty of sad, sad songs on this forsaken Isle, so I drew a deep breath and remembered the technique required to coax a song from a thing far from my grasp.
You sing to a mist-shrouded island painting:
"Hello there painting, Luxie is my name!
Sing your tale and explain your fame!"
As your voice touches upon the painting, a childlike voice rises to your ears. "Time heals, time steals, time reveals.... Feeding off of the souls of his lost, never releasing them to winter, silence, or the hiss, he slowly raised his paltry home from its depths and brought it back into the light. Greed was his friend and so too did it find a friend in Junderthal." Slowly, the song fades.
And there, once more, the truth of this dreadful place, out of the mouths of babes.
Perhaps someone can tell us what was happening before that! Or even after.
My Stormfront crashed spectacularly without notice, and I was not even copying something!
Topic: Ebon Gate Festival
Message #: 15511
Author: GS4-THANDIWE
Date: 10/4/2018
Subject: Chalk it up to Memories...
Keilipso crouched within the wretched remains of the ancient tree and breathed deeply. The coarse scent of decay, acrid brine, and fresh-cut vegetation warred for dominance in her senses and she found she had to shake her head to clear it of their power. Sleep had not been her friend. When she was younger, it was always the excitement of a new day. When she was in school, it was the excitement of learning a new style or technique with her chalks. And a year ago, it was the excitement of a new life as an artist in a far-off land.
She pinched her eye closed, a small bitterness rising in her. How naive she'd been. How foolish was she to believe in such a thing.
And she remembered the kind people she'd met the year before when she was fresh off the boat. She’d drawn for them and they’d been impressed with her skills. Why they thought she'd be able to pay off her debt to Junderthal in no time! They'd even help set her up in a place called the Landing and help her to establish herself as an artist.
Sleep kept her from sleeping each night during the festivities. Drawing and earning the money to get out of her debt to Junderthal, hoping that she'd finally have earned enough, but naive in what it cost.
She remembered the broker as he collected her coins.
Silvers for the voyage. It was more than she'd expected. Silvers for the housing since she'd been on the island. Junderthal had promised her room and board. Silvers for her food. She didn't think she ate that much. And silvers for when she'd taken that tumble down the side of one of the cliffs. Weren't healers supposed to heal because they were kind and gentle?
She'd watched the visitors depart. Watched as the portals closed. Watched as Junderthal headed to the mainland. Her dreams went with them all.
And the mist clung to her. Its promises and hunger a constant companion. It nagged at her and told her secrets. She listened to them, but she also wasn't deceived by them.
When the vision started coming, she knew them to be something. Some secret. Some hidden thing. But by then her own words were deceiving even her. So, instead, she drew them. Drew them all for everyone to see.
The cracked nails of her fingers clicked against the stone circle. Even the island was trying to shed some of its secrets.
"It may not be enough," the words of an old woman echoed to her ears.
She shook her head and bent to another drawing. Perhaps the island could share one more truth for her... Tomorrow...
OOC: Storyline finale will be before the games open tomorrow night.