[WP-001] Murkcrow
Posted: Mon Jun 01, 2020 9:00 pm
[imgright]https://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/imag ... ow_tia.gif[/imgright]Murkcrow had first dreamed of the Obelisk (as he learned it was called) many seasons ago, a dream (he also learned) that was more-or-less shared by many. At the time, he didn't want to listen to whatever the Swamp was trying to tell him. He didn't want to be a character in some grand story. He wanted to be himself.
But the dreams never abated. Sometimes the Obelisk was unimaginably tall, others so short the buck could step over it with ease. Sometimes he was in the desert, sometimes in the mountains. On one occasion, a whole line of obelisks danced in tandem before him, wiggling in a way that was both mesmerizing and deeply repulsive. (That one Murkcrow chalked up to bad berry juice.) Even when he dreamed of other things, the Obelisk found its way through the edges of his mind, and he woke up with that familiar sick uneasiness more often than he didn't. The dreams had grown more frequent of late. But Murkcrow couldn't quite tell if they were the product of mere obsession or true messages from the Motherfather.
This dream started in much the same way as the others. Murkcrow stood, once again, in front of the foreboding tower, glowering up at its inexplicably smooth sides, feeling deeply unsettled by its very existence. The Obelisk - smooth-sided and carved with unknown symbols as it was - could not have been made by nature, but neither was it likely a kin could have created it. The thought that kin were not the only intelligent beings in the Swamp made his skin crawl.
Murkcrow squinted at the Obelisk for a long time, hesitating just shy of touching it (a mistake he had certainly made before), before he became aware that there were voices around him. The voices were hard to make out - in some moments they were clear, but in others they ran together into a sound like sizzling water, and Murkcrow turned away from the Obelisk to listen.
"-look around. Explore-," he heard: a commanding voice. Murkcrow squinted and thought he could see shimmering figures milling around, but it might have been his imagination. And then, "be careful, please! ------- It's not - good - touch -"
Well, he knew that, he thought, as a dark shadow pushed past him and head-butted the thing. Murkcrow flinched and stepped away from the Obelisk. For a brief moment, he thought he saw it glow brighter, but through the sizzling noises and the shimmering figures, Murkcrow had trouble figuring out what was going on. Was this the expedition that had ventured here before? He heard there was a puzzle involved. Murkcrow wove his way through the vague dream-kin (or so he thought; a strange chill came over him any time he got too close to one) and examined the ground around the Obelisk. Five flat stones with curious symbols stood around it. Murkcrow examined one, trying to puzzle out its meaning. No, he still wasn't sure.
Only one of the stones presented a clear image to him, and that was the one with the crane. The ghostly kin-shapes - were they growing more solid? - seemed likewise focused on that stone, the most recognizable of them. One of the specters climbed up on it and, there! The Obelisk was definitely glowing with its own light. Another kin climbed into one of the rune-stones, and another, and three sides of the Obelisk it up. But the next kin who stepped up caused the lights to dim again. Murkcrow frowned in disappointment and backed away from the scene until he could see all of the stones.
He tilted his head, trying to listen to the crackling speech. The kin seemed to be discussing what to do next - and then, one by one, they hopped back onto the stones.
The clearing was bathed suddenly in bright white light and Murkcrow woke with a gasp, shaking like a leaf.
"The kin survived that?" He took a deep breath. The awe and terror of the moment still washed over him. A true dream from the Motherfather, but what did it mean? Murkcrow shook his head. The only thing he was certain of was that he did not like it.
But the dreams never abated. Sometimes the Obelisk was unimaginably tall, others so short the buck could step over it with ease. Sometimes he was in the desert, sometimes in the mountains. On one occasion, a whole line of obelisks danced in tandem before him, wiggling in a way that was both mesmerizing and deeply repulsive. (That one Murkcrow chalked up to bad berry juice.) Even when he dreamed of other things, the Obelisk found its way through the edges of his mind, and he woke up with that familiar sick uneasiness more often than he didn't. The dreams had grown more frequent of late. But Murkcrow couldn't quite tell if they were the product of mere obsession or true messages from the Motherfather.
This dream started in much the same way as the others. Murkcrow stood, once again, in front of the foreboding tower, glowering up at its inexplicably smooth sides, feeling deeply unsettled by its very existence. The Obelisk - smooth-sided and carved with unknown symbols as it was - could not have been made by nature, but neither was it likely a kin could have created it. The thought that kin were not the only intelligent beings in the Swamp made his skin crawl.
Murkcrow squinted at the Obelisk for a long time, hesitating just shy of touching it (a mistake he had certainly made before), before he became aware that there were voices around him. The voices were hard to make out - in some moments they were clear, but in others they ran together into a sound like sizzling water, and Murkcrow turned away from the Obelisk to listen.
"-look around. Explore-," he heard: a commanding voice. Murkcrow squinted and thought he could see shimmering figures milling around, but it might have been his imagination. And then, "be careful, please! ------- It's not - good - touch -"
Well, he knew that, he thought, as a dark shadow pushed past him and head-butted the thing. Murkcrow flinched and stepped away from the Obelisk. For a brief moment, he thought he saw it glow brighter, but through the sizzling noises and the shimmering figures, Murkcrow had trouble figuring out what was going on. Was this the expedition that had ventured here before? He heard there was a puzzle involved. Murkcrow wove his way through the vague dream-kin (or so he thought; a strange chill came over him any time he got too close to one) and examined the ground around the Obelisk. Five flat stones with curious symbols stood around it. Murkcrow examined one, trying to puzzle out its meaning. No, he still wasn't sure.
Only one of the stones presented a clear image to him, and that was the one with the crane. The ghostly kin-shapes - were they growing more solid? - seemed likewise focused on that stone, the most recognizable of them. One of the specters climbed up on it and, there! The Obelisk was definitely glowing with its own light. Another kin climbed into one of the rune-stones, and another, and three sides of the Obelisk it up. But the next kin who stepped up caused the lights to dim again. Murkcrow frowned in disappointment and backed away from the scene until he could see all of the stones.
He tilted his head, trying to listen to the crackling speech. The kin seemed to be discussing what to do next - and then, one by one, they hopped back onto the stones.
The clearing was bathed suddenly in bright white light and Murkcrow woke with a gasp, shaking like a leaf.
"The kin survived that?" He took a deep breath. The awe and terror of the moment still washed over him. A true dream from the Motherfather, but what did it mean? Murkcrow shook his head. The only thing he was certain of was that he did not like it.