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Castaway [Event Recount]

Cymic_

Better than sliced bread
Legend
This entire story is a conglomeration of all of the emotes and DMing of a single player dungeon that Cymic was put through. It is the telling of a drug induced trip. Credit to Kamaoe for writing, DMing and expertly ad-libbing in spots were Cymic may have ran off the course. Something really crazy happens at the end and there is an insane twist. Read the entire story that builds up to it.



"Thiz iz your journey."
{Me journey, huh.}
"You will not on thiz world after thiz. If you need help, call for it. The spirit that guidez you will help you."
"Lady Delay father."



[Section I]
"I shrugged off her words as i usuall'eh do. I thought about a lot of things. Where i was, wha' i got myself into. I started ta' feel.. Heavy. And then sleepy."

He trudged through the snow until his legs burned. Exhaustion was but a thought in the back of his mind. He passed by the lake and watched it as the water shifted in ways he had never imagined before. Like liquid glass. He knew better not to touch it than to risk frostbite.

He finds himself feeling a bit of separation from his body. As though he were outside it, but still inextricably bound to it. The cold of his surroundings fade from his mind as he looks around the familiar landscape through different eyes. Below himself, he feels himself collapse. He watches as his body is slowly buried in the falling snow. That feeling of being tired too much to bear for even his spirit.



[Section II]
"I had a dream tha' i was all alone. I wished ta' have a soul. Any soul by me side. Anythin' to not feel so alone."


Fighting himself to the surface, he took a gasp of bitter air. When he came to he was in the midst of a stormy ocean. Before him a ship flounders, men on the decks fighting against the wind and waves. Indistinct yelling can just be heard through the sound of water and thunder. Cymic swam for the ship. The storm carries him along, a wave slamming him into the side of the ship. He clings to the ship pulling himself up and yanking himself into the mid-deck. Surrounded by cannons. Looking to the staircase up where his men heaved ..and then to the middle of the cannon deck. There was a door standing out of place. He headed downstairs towards the sound of splashing, as if water seeping into the hull.. The storage was filled with gold and riches and as Cymic passes the treasures, he comes to what appears to be a brig. Beyond the bars of the brig, is a watery abyss. As he stares into it, he slowly becomes cognizant of a giant eye staring back at him… He kicks at the bars out of an overwhelming aggressive fear. Attempting to shoo the beast.

“Get.”

He kicks the bars, and they seperate from where he kicked. Water begins to flow in, and a tentacle begins to worm it's way through the hole. Cymic scrambles backward, heading for where he thought the stairs would be. The tentacle pursues, grabbing for his quickly retreating boot.

Cymic wins the roll.

It misses his boot as he scrambles up the stairs. He turns on a heel and heads towards the upper deck.

“Lads! /Lads!/”

There is no response, just the shouts of men trying to fight the storm. And the looming presence of the door in the center of the cannondeck. His shoulder smacks into the door as he made his way for the staircase. He steps onto the deck, glancing around himself. Up on the deck of the ship, there is no one. The shouts abruptly cutting out as he makes his way onto the deck. The sails are loose, ropes whipping in the wind.

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He takes a few footsteps backward and lightning fills his gaze. Temporarily blinded .. He stumbles his way back into the lower deck rubbing his eye furiously. In the center of the deck below, the door swings open and shut, a sliver of something behind it. Despite his fear of being all alone on this hell of a brig .. Cymic goes for the nearest cannon. His boot unhitches the wheels and he begins the semi-long process of loading the cannon himself. He orientates it towards the hall .. And glances in between the crack as he rolls the cannon on past. He hitches the wheels again and snags a firestarter. As he had been loading the cannon and making it ready to fire, the tentacle had been making it's way further in. Sensing the movement, the tentacle moves closer to the cannon Cymic is readying

He rolls a 4 out of 5.

100980


He strikes the fuse once, twice, three times. The tentacle looms ever closer. The wet appendage grasps the cannon's muzzle. On the fourth strike, the fuse lights. With an ear shattering boom, the cannon fires into the fleshy appendage. The room becomes soaked in viscera. He unhitches the cannon, letting it loose, before he slipped for the door. His heart was racing. There is a rumble from down below, and what's left of the bloodied appendage vanishes below the deck.

[Section III]
"My wish was granted but. That’s not wha’ i meant."

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Opening the door, Cymic finds himself in a large, verdant courtyard. The gardens are in the height of spring, and flowers overflow from pots and on vines. In the center of the magnificent garden, is a well. Cymic wipes some sludge from his chin with two fingers and throws it on the stone. .. He steps towards the well, but the architecture reminded him of an old castle of Blackrose. He stumbles through the garden as disorientation muddled his footsteps. At least the floor wasn’t rocking. He approaches the well and leans over the side. It is a stone well, fitting and at home in a rich merchant's home. Peering within, dozens upon dozens of coins line the bottom

He rolls a 19 on perception

As he peers within the well, he slowly becomes cognizent of something moving inside the home surrounding him. From the windows, he can hear a tapping. The figure of a woman looks out at him, tapping on the glass from one of the windows that surrounded the garden. He reaches for his sword. But it was not on his person. Still .. The company of another being drew him near. He carelessly pushes through the bushes, not one to care for the flowers. As he gets closer, he recognizes the face. It was Azariah.. Concern fills the woman's face and she mouths one thing to him

"Run."

Azariah now begins to pound on the window, screaming RUN at him. He squints. It was in his nature to defy the rules. Especially if it was her speaking. He glances around themselves.

“..Wha’ is it?”

As he turns, he does not see her vanish. At the other windows he can see other figures. They all stand in silence at the windows. His vision particularly finds Ayda. His head whips to the window at his right. Fenric.Turning back to face Azariah .. He sees himself. Not as a reflection. He backs up stumbling through the brush. He glances at the windows as he walks away from the vision of himself, looking for more familiar faces. The windows crack, threatening to break. In the windows he can see the faces of those he's cared for. Boetius, Eisa, Ventare, Kam, the best image of his mother his mind could craft. It was the figure of what he's always imagined his mother to look like. He's only got a mental image from what was described to him since he killed her upon birth. His father appeared much younger than he was by now. Probably the same age as Cymic as that was the last he had seen him. His parents look out at him impassively as their windows slowly crumble to dust. In her mirror, Kam tilts her head at him, as though he'd said something. Still, slowly, the windows break.
 
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Cymic_

Better than sliced bread
Legend
[Section IV]
"Hauntingly enough.. I wanted to stay. I have never been surrounded by so man’eh people tha’ love me in ages."

He tries the door .. Locked. Through the shrubs, steps the him which was in the window. He glances at himself .. Inching towards the well. He doesn't say anything, contradictory to his loud personality. Around the pair, the windows shatter. The doppelganger double steps down to the pavement. As the windows shatter, the people behind them are gone.

“.. Oy. ..”

Even HE was wary of himself..

“..Whas’ goin’ on?”

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The double says nothing, and quickens his step toward him. Cymic .. Takes a step back.. The double continues his quick pace. As he pursued .. He attempts to sock the familiar face with a right hook. As he does, the double swings his own right hook at him


Cynic wins the roll.


Cymic socks his double first, knocking the double's punch path off. The double staggers to the side. He doesn't stop there. He lurches off of his back foot, attempting to grapple the double. The pair are now grappled, the double trying to grapple back and gain the upper hand.


Cymic fails the roll.


The double gains the upper hand and moves to pin Cymic. As he does, he looks down and opens his mouth to speak.

"Always beating yourself up Seymour. Time for yourself to give you a little back."


And the double swings down at him. He is socked in the cheek and Cymic tucks his head towards the double’s chest. He pushes a leg off of the ground and attempts to roll, and counter pin himself.


“Ahk. /Cunt/! .. You can't fuckin' lecture me. You’re /me/.”


The double tries to use the roll to roll back atop Cymic


"If /anyone/ can lecture your fat ass it's /me/!"


Cymic wins the roll and remains on top.


“You can't call me /fat/, Yer /me/!”

‘Don’t matt’r, you’re still fat!”



Cymic would attempt to grab the man's head and shove it under the water within the well. As he pushes the double's head under the water, the double struggles to push Cymic off.


"If i'm so /fat/, try ta' com' out of this one."


He'd lean a large portion of his weight down, almost near damn all of it. The double rocks back and forth, grasping and scratching at Cymic's face. Air bubbles to the surface, as the double continues to scream insults at Cymic… And soon enough the double broke free. Silently, the double looks at him.


"Dumbass. No wonder I hate you.”

The double pulls something from his coat. His hand reels back and throws something straight towards Cymic’s face. Cymic manages to catch it. A key.


“Get the fuck out of here. You've broken them all.”


The large elf turns and steps away silently towards the door. He is hounded by himself, still.


"Don't come back 'till you've learned."


He grips the key until his knuckles turned white. Unlocking the door, he leaves.


{You’ve broken ‘em all..}

[Section V]
"I thought it was over. I never wanted to leave somewhere so bad in all me life. It was back to square one."


“Fuck.”


Cymic thought to himself. He finds himself back in the viscera soaked cannon-deck. The storm still raging and tossing the boat. All alone. Blood leaked down into the bottom most deck. He takes a deep breath, his chest heaving. And he sets off down the stairs once more. The cell that contained the kraken was empty. As he approached .. He found he was no longer in the ship.


[Section VI]
"I thought i was stuck here. Left to die."

100983

Cymic finds himself in a vast ocean. At his belt, Cymic can feel the weight of a knife Far below the surface and in wet, frigid darkness. Through the water, he can sense immense things swimming around. He takes a deep breath and dives underneath the water. For whatever reason, he feels he does not need to breathe. The closest thing is some distance away. But it's very large. He swam towards it. As he gets closer, there's red in the water. Hard to make out, but he can feel the warmth of the fresh blood. Soon he finds himself directly above the beast. It has not noticed him yet. Cymic notices it, however. He swam towards it in light strokes.


He rolls an 18 on stealth.


He's damn lucky, and the beast seems to be paying attention to something else. As he nears it, Cymic lands atop the kraken. He buries the knife down into it's eye and drag the knife towards him. The beast recoils, eye being sliced open. It turns all it's appendages to Cymic to try and grab him. He attempts to push off the head of the kraken.


With a negative roll modifier, Cymic still wins the roll.


He manages to move deftly between the beast's tentacles. It writhes in the water, lashing out in the water. The tentacles end up tangling themselves up in one another, giving Cymic a clear path to the other eye. He looks at the kraken, head-on. He didn’t think to have thought this through all the way. The kraken snaps at him.


Cymic wins the roll.

100984


As a last-ditch effort to blind the kraken, dooming it to a life of darkness and hunger, he began to go about shredding the other gigantic eye of the gargantuan beast as deeply as he could manage. It wiggles and it's tentacles finally untangle. It slams the tentacles down toward Cymic all at once. He is powerless to try and stop it. He feels a great amount of pressure, and his vision goes black. Cymic is broken up against the kraken's eye as he is mashed, his innards breaking and cracking. He feels his body in great pain, but he's not to be released from this watery hell yet. The kraken draws back, rearing for another hit on him. As he lies there, the kraken hurls it's tentacles back down towards him. Then, there is a harsh blow to the beast. Thick fluid spills into the surrounding water. Cymic feels the kraken taken away, at great speed. The kraken tries to grabble whatever is attacking it. He sinks to the bottom helplessly. He watched the behemoths battle. All Cymic could make out was a long massive shape in the water. He assumed the sillhouette to be a leviathan. A sea serpent. The sigil of his house. As he strikes the sand, seeing the pair doing battle above him, darkening the water above him, he finds himself on the deck of the ship.

100982

[Section VII]
"For the third time i have seen that kraken die. For th’ third time i have helped it on it’s way .."


He coughs and spits up, and feels around his person. He was no longer so broken and crushed. All he knew is that he was happy to be out of there. He scrambles his way towards the upper deck. Up top, the sky is clear, the clouds dispersed. Up top he hears laughter and mirth. He glances around. Making sure this wasn't some sick joke. He felt compelled to find the source of the laughter. As Cymic makes his way up to the stern, his vision goes black.

[Section VIII]
"Maybe .. Something was different about this room. Maybe things were startin’ to look up."

100985

He comes to in a colorful room. Sitting opposite him, is a richly dressed Sool merchant. The Sool takes a prolonged draw from a hookah in the center of the pit they are both seated in. Several baubles dangle from the Sool’s ears and piercings dot his nose,eyebrow and lip.*


Well, well. Took the dangerous path to speak with me, did you?”

“.. Jax?”


The sool takes a drag of the hookah before him.

“Yes. You were seeking me? No?”

Cymic fell into a lean against the material.

“ Gods. I was. Am. Always will be. You bald dog. .. Am i dead?”

"No. You are not dead. You are... somewhere in your mind."


He makes a very vague gesture as smoke drifts lazily from his lips. Cymic takes one of the strands of the hookah and draws from it .. Exhaling a plume of smoke. The taste which enters his being is a rich, exotic flavor. A deep, pleasurable burning sensation fills him.


“.. I've reall'eh been workin' me ass off. You're still one of th' most worshipped gods in all of existence. You have heard, righ'?”


Cymic wasn't sure exactly what to say. He was more than nervous. This is the man that he has devoted the past decade of his life into spreading worship.


“Yes, I have heard word of that. And in no small part to you, my blessed, who have been spreading my word across these vast lands. I love you for that. You have felt my love, yes?"


“ .. You make it hard to tell som'times. You jester. .. But i s'ppose luck goes both ways som'times. I can't always have th' good life. I don't want to always have th' good life.”


"The good life comes to those who grasp at it. You have to make it come to you, or take it for yourself."


“As i have preached those very same words”



He watches as his interpretation of Jax rises from his seat, impossibly tall and crosses to Cymic, bending down over him. He just glances up at the god.


"Until next you seek me, I have a task for you, Cymic."

“What's tha', M'..lad.”


He was stuck between a casual and formal approach. Jax takes Cymic's hand and presses something into it.


"Bring more mirth, there's precious little of it in the world."


“I’ll do tha’. I shall.”


“Good lad.”



And with that, Jax exhales a puff of smoke into Cymic's face, and Cymic finds himself blacking out once more.

-

Cymic is lying on a couch, wrapped in his cloak. Kam is rubbing one of his hands lightly.

"Cymic? You are awake?"

He feels around on his person. .. Shivering despite the warmth of the tavern. He finds the small object Jax gave him in his hand. A silver anchor earring.
 
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Cymic_

Better than sliced bread
Legend
The entire story is written. I'm going to format it into sections to make it more digestible.
 
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