[Taocow PBEM] [Ted] Book 3 - Chapter XVIII

Aaron Clausen mightymartianca at gmail.com
Fri Oct 28 20:52:54 UTC 2016

>> [Ted]
>> Ted will keep hanging on until told otherwise.
>> [/Ted]

> [GM]
> The pull is getting to be too much for Ted. He's literally bending
> the metal rung he's clinging too.
> And then it simply snaps, and Ted seems to stretch out like a long
> thin line before disappearing into the orb.
> Once Ted has been sucked in, the orb retreats, heading deeper into
> the cargo hold and out of sight. The smell of sulfur fades away, and
> the only sound is the bubbling of water under Vesper's energy field.
> [/GM]

For Ted, the sensation is like one long feeling of a bandaid being 
pulled off. His whole body is in pain, but in some ways it's almost as 
if he's outside of his body. All around him the light grows redder and 
redder, as if he's in the middle of a flame.

And then Ted feels himself falling. He blacks out for a second, or 
perhaps a day or a week, there's no way to tell.

When he comes to he's laying on the ground. Above him is a sunless sky 
that glows red, with billowing clouds that seem lit from within by 
flame. He's laying on a ledge of black obsidian. Above him is a cliff of 
the same black rock, and far below at the bottom of another cliff is a 
river of glowing molten rock.

The air is foul, sulfurous and heavy, but still at least marginally 
breathable. It's hard to imagine water anywhere in this place.

And that's when Ted hears footsteps, at first a few, then several. As he 
sits up, he's surrounded by at least fifty people, covered head to foot 
in robes made of some sort of thick black hide that might be the 
exoskeleton of some sort of insect, with intersecting rings.

All the people move slowly, as if they're carrying heavy burdens, though 
Ted can't see any of them carrying anything more than small sacks. 
Perhaps the hide robes are heavy.

One of them speaks in a hoarse forced voice, with gasps of air. "Are you 
from... the outside, from the place of cold?"

Aaron Clausen
mightymartianca at gmail.com

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