Susil Crags

Disaster has struck!
The Crags are a series of rocky formations with small caves and crevices throughout. Many of the lower-lying areas of the Crags have been flooded, however, with water pouring in from the Northern stretches of Moladion. Some paths have been completely submerged, and some are nothing more than a few rocky peaks sticking out of the water. The water is fairly slow moving but begins to pick speed up towards the Grotto, becoming a series of intense rapids and waterfalls as it nears the Grotto's entrance.

The area itself is still traversible. However, it can be risky. Large amounts of debris can enter the waterway, creating bridges at times but also creating dams that break and cause ocassional flash-flooding. Be careful, travelers! One wrong step and you could end up finding out where the water goes.

Note: Susil Crags will return to normal once 25 posts have been completed (or at Staff discretion). During this time, new threads will receive a 'Surprise','Disaster', and prizes.

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for all your grief
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Night falls outside and she relaxes some, lowering her head to the cool stone floor. The creatures of shadow are waking and making their rounds: hunting, traveling and whatnot. They don’t distress her; she is familiar with their patterns, being a primarily nocturnal creature herself. But Fathom shifts in her hideout, the sounds from beyond the cavern distracting her from sleep. At least it’s nice just to rest in the quiet. Alone.

And then she has company.

As quickly as she can, she rises to all fours, head lowered, eyes intensely focused on the newest addition to her cave. He is all but shadow against the sunset, the fading light doing nothing to accentuate his light coat until he rounds a corner; then he is at a better angle, and she can see him more clearly. Not a demon, then. She relaxes somewhat, though keeps her suspicious distance.

The rumbling of his voice is warm, welcoming, even, and she raises her head to meet his eyes. They are almost completely white, a stark contrast to the black irises that frequent her nightmares, and they draw her in more than they chase her away. She braves a step forward, to see him better. She can’t resist a rare chuckle at his insistence that he is not, in fact, a relic of his namesake. “’Evening, Heartless. I’m Fathom,” she replies quietly, “We aren’t alone.

Even as she says it, her head swivels to the sounds of another approach. Her ears miss nothing, attuned, as ever, to the movements of anyone (anything?) that might be the demon come to deliver his punishment. But it is another stranger, drawn by their voices or their scents; it is hard to know, from one predator to another, what will drive them to exploration.

Her jade eyes shift nervously from one male to the other, unsure of how to handle the situation and feeling somewhat trapped. Fathom, at a mere twenty-eight inches tall, has to look up to make eye contact with each of them; each stands well above her and carries his fair share of weight. She may have speed on her side, but with them blocking her only exit this is of little comfort to the small she-wolf.

He introduces himself politely enough, maintaining a respectful distance between himself and Heartless, as well as giving Fathom her space. This isn’t unnoted, and she is grateful for it. She’s amused by his take on the situation, as if she and this Heartless fellow were brave for hiding out amidst the rocks. “Tesseract.” She nods to him. “I’m afraid bravery doesn’t have much to do with it,” she admits, smiling sheepishly despite herself. “Shadows just suit me. I haven’t made many friends in my time here.” A quiet falls over her voice and her face; her eyes drift to the night beyond their cozy gathering. But she refocuses, glancing to each of them in turn, “What brings you two out this way?








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