Discord
06-10-2023, 10:46 PM
You feel brave today.
You want to find the most elegant or frightening looking tome in the library. Something glowing or decorated, something that catches the eye.
![[Image: proxthhumbsup.png]](http://homebrewdeviants.com/static/Masa/proxthhumbsup.png)
Styx’s proxy peeks over on occasion but otherwise seems nonchalant about you wandering the library alone.
The isle ahead is loaded with plenty of books on various utilities, some that you might want to consider at looking through later but nothing that really fits the description of "Forbidden Knowledge" that Styx seemed to promise.
Still... there's plenty more in this room and a cozy looking spot in the next section that catches your eye. You head your way toward the upcoming doorway.
You push through the door, blinking.
The sensation of the door disappears from your palms.
Motion catches your eyes, sending your head swiveling.
Trees rustle in the dark, all around you.
Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the dark woods, looking upward to find not a single star in the pitch-black sky.
You turn around, knowing the previous section of the library will be there.
But, it isn't.
No shelves, no sections, no doors. Only more trees.
And you've already lost your bearings.
As you stand in the dark, dumbfounded, a sound finds its way to your ears.
It's faint, but rhythmic. Your best guess is...music. A guitar, playing.
Every strand of instinct tells you to run in the other direction, that something isn't right here.
But, something about the sound soothes you, gentle strumming putting you more at ease than you expected to be.
You follow it.
The gentle tune draws itself more into focus by the time you spot a light up ahead.
Clearer and clearer it becomes, until finally-
![[Image: ArtIguess.png]](http://homebrewdeviants.com/static/Masa/ArtIguess.png)
You stumble your way into a small clearing.
A campfire sits at the clearing's center, with a log on either side of it.
A stranger - clad in a poncho and flat-brimmed hat - sits on the log across from the one you stand behind, strumming at a six-string guitar.
Their head is down, watching the strings, so you can't get much of a look at their face.
![[Image: asdasdadadasdhat3.png]](http://homebrewdeviants.com/static/Masa/asdasdadadasdhat3.png)
But, you think they may be sporting a toothy grin under that cap.
They're quiet, either unaware of your presence, or simply not acknowledging it.
You want to find the most elegant or frightening looking tome in the library. Something glowing or decorated, something that catches the eye.
Styx’s proxy peeks over on occasion but otherwise seems nonchalant about you wandering the library alone.
The isle ahead is loaded with plenty of books on various utilities, some that you might want to consider at looking through later but nothing that really fits the description of "Forbidden Knowledge" that Styx seemed to promise.
Still... there's plenty more in this room and a cozy looking spot in the next section that catches your eye. You head your way toward the upcoming doorway.
You push through the door, blinking.
The sensation of the door disappears from your palms.
Motion catches your eyes, sending your head swiveling.
Trees rustle in the dark, all around you.
Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the dark woods, looking upward to find not a single star in the pitch-black sky.
You turn around, knowing the previous section of the library will be there.
But, it isn't.
No shelves, no sections, no doors. Only more trees.
And you've already lost your bearings.
As you stand in the dark, dumbfounded, a sound finds its way to your ears.
It's faint, but rhythmic. Your best guess is...music. A guitar, playing.
Every strand of instinct tells you to run in the other direction, that something isn't right here.
But, something about the sound soothes you, gentle strumming putting you more at ease than you expected to be.
You follow it.
The gentle tune draws itself more into focus by the time you spot a light up ahead.
Clearer and clearer it becomes, until finally-
You stumble your way into a small clearing.
A campfire sits at the clearing's center, with a log on either side of it.
A stranger - clad in a poncho and flat-brimmed hat - sits on the log across from the one you stand behind, strumming at a six-string guitar.
Their head is down, watching the strings, so you can't get much of a look at their face.
But, you think they may be sporting a toothy grin under that cap.
They're quiet, either unaware of your presence, or simply not acknowledging it.
