Hail, Stranger!

It looks like you're new here. If you want to get involved, click one of these buttons!

Welcome to the Achaea Forums! Please be sure to read the Forum Rules.

The Vespertine Expanse (and the Vespertinal Anchor)

DaeirDaeir AustraliaMember Posts: 6,276 @@ - Legendary Achaean
One of the trashed artefact ideas I had that I sort of fell in love with. It's essentially an imagining of a very brief aspect of Achaea's "spirit" plane, entirely original. I wrote a lot for it that will never get used, so I figure I'd post it and maybe some people would get a kick out of reading it. I was very fond of this whole concept overall, though.


Drifting in the Vespertine Expanse

Umbral hues yield unto a bleak, all-consuming grey, the machinations of your spiritual perception utterly pale before the sheer, fathomless depths that writhe before you. Shattered memories drift as clouds upon broken skies, warped patterns reflecting their contents and pressing a jumbled mass of emotion against your senses in a cacophonous roar. Great chunks of floating, enigmatic mass devoid of shape or form loom just out of sight amongst the whirling mire, the vista at times falling suddenly and inexplicably still before resuming into frantic motion once more.


A number of intangible threads float here, each bearing a faint familiarity. [You would GRASP these threads to move to various locations on the Prime, locations with spiritual import like the meadow of contemplation in Cyrene, or the Monument of the Fallen in Targossas]


The anchor resting upon your chest hums violently in response to the movement of a great shadow looming far above, its argentine form growing somehow warm against your incorporeal body.

A whisper drifts across the Expanse, its dulcet tones evoking a haunting chill that soon yields into a primal, surging fear.

Something abruptly yanks at you, your form stilled by the anchor about your neck. A frustrated hiss accompanies the foreign presence as it departs, leaving you shaken from the experience, no matter how eerily familiar it somehow feels.

A childlike giggle resounds across the clamour of the Expanse, the world falling unsettlingly still for a moment in response.

Building to a low, droning chorus, a symphony of voices echo across the bleakness, calling fruitlessly for a name you cannot understand.



Words of a distant incantation echoes upon the grey tides, eliciting a sorrowful yearning for endless litany.


Fragments of shattered glass drift by on the back of ivory-hued motes, crystalline sand weeping from their minute edges.


A gelid chill descends as a set of violet eyes gaze hungrily at you from within the churning mire, closing with a strangely peaceful expression as they fade away.


A single silver rose petal flits by, leaving a pattern of argent webwork in its wake.


A shattered black diamond forms from the sable whorls above, falling past the plateau with thundering speed, narrowly missing you.


Two serpents slither aimlessly about each other within the nascent void, utterly and hopelessly lost.


Predatory eyes gleam at you from within the gloam, a spotted feline face revealing itself for but a moment before fading away.


A strange peace overtakes you, the fear of the Expanse waning beneath an indescribable influence. The tickle of a feather-like touch wafts across the back of your neck, and the peace departs as quickly as it came.


A horde of faces stare out blankly into the abyss with numerous expressions - lustful, baleful, hateful, all gazing upon you with an endless, insatiable hunger.


A solitary mote of water heralds the passage of a floating water lily upon its cerulean globe, its moonlit form distinctly out of place among the inexorable grey.


Upon a dilapidated throne, the visage of an old, tormented man floats past, ever reaching out to the trident positioned just beyond his grip.


The visage of smiling man kit in a warrior's garb hums to himself within a solitary image as it floats by, the halcyon memory unstained by the vespertinal grey.


A chorus of spirits sing a jilting, fragmented tone, the discordant notes fluttering between summery rises and glacial falls.


Shuddering quietly, the entirety of the Expanse yields before a magnificent ripple, falling still for the briefest moment as the grey yields barely to silver, before the cacophony returns.


Pillars of ebon flame surges through the unerring cold of the Expanse, the cacophony of voices descending into a sombre, prolonged silence in their wake.


An endless, slavering hunger rises from the very fabric of the Expanse, threatening to consume you with it.



With reckless abandon, you thrust your spirit from the drifting plateau, spiralling headlong into the depths of the Vespertine Expanse. 

A thought of home is all that tethers you among the endless grey, and you feel your spirit surging towards your body once more.

>>>> MOVED TO:

Betwixt the weave of the Prime Material Plane

Mountains and oceans surge past your view faster than you could ever hope to comprehend, the spaces between the fabric of reality rendered beyond reckoning to your incorporeal senses. Rents and gashes appear and mend as quickly as they come, the faintest glimpse of a draconic form passing between them at times. A sickening, pervading sense of utter wrongness lingers at the edges of your consciousness, wicking away into tiny ebon motes that clump about and seethe atop the image, a growing stain upon the majesty of the Prime.


Suddenly, your anchor grows cold and you feel your connection to corporeality slip away. In an instant, you are swept upon the churning tides of the Expanse, your spirit yanked and stretched impossibly across vast distances, snapping together before falling away in the same moment.


DIED (anywhere in the Expanse, to the whorl or to physical form being killed):

Lost in the cacophony of the Expanse, your concentration slips for the briefest moment and you watch in horror as a silver tether extends from the anchor about your chest, growing thinner and thinner by each passing moment.

An intense, unsettling discomfort pervades your fading consciousness as you realize that you are losing your lingering link to the mortal world. You struggle and strain to regain your bearing, grasping at the solitary thread until your incorporeal hands bleed into the grey whorl surrounding you, but the ceaseless motion of the Expanse is simply too disorienting, its inexorable pull unable to be denied.

With a terrible, final shudder, the argent link snaps, and the anchor grows cold and dark upon your chest. The Expanse yawns out before you, quintupling in size, as your misplaced spirits falls headlong into its all-encompassing maw.

An eternity awaits you within the disjointed time within the Expanse, the memories of your life flitting by as you wane away upon the endless whorls within, until the last vestiges of your will finally fade away. The sundered remnants of your hollow spirit break free at last, withered by the fathomless experience and utterly, hopelessly lost amidst the ashen skies of the Vespertine Expanse.




"Shouldn't I be.. dead?"

With your final thought, you cast your last memory to that of Death's familiar embrace, and feel relief wash over you as the Finality's clawed hand impetuously rises from the grey tides to claim you,  his savage talons yanking you down, down, so very far down...

And then, there is only black.



Trapped hopelessly in the endless depths of the Vespertine Expanse, Daeir's spirit has waned away to aught amidst an incorporeal sea, the price paid for delving where the living should not dare to tread.


A sickening hiss emanates from the mouth of the motionless form of Daeir, a haggard rattle slowly building in his chest into scream of primal, blood-curdling horror. And then, he falls over dead - silently and utterly still.

Daeir has been slain by misadventure.



Holding desperately onto your thoughts of home, the Prime rushes past you in a deafening roar, your tether barely holding before the tidal forces of the Expanse. With an almost weary resignation, the Expanse palpably releases you from its grip, and you find yourself discarded somewhere on the Prime at long last.

RETURNing after using the Expanse at all:

Gasping loudly, Daeir's motionless form surges into sudden life, a look of pure terror washing over his features before he composes himself.

Sign In to Comment.