#blank-forest

I awoke to sounds of screaming. Theatre Mask was nowhere in sight, nor was Scabs.

Screaming everywhere. Tired, pained screams.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I was in the Drain. To my left stayed a hole, dark and dampened by lost souls and blood. To my right stayed a light, illuminating the deep. I began my trek downwards, stepping over rotting husks and brittle bones. I walked right back into the gloom of white. The forest was playing tricks on me, when suddenly there came a scream.

There are no known names for the Dekn hellspawn that hunched before me, for no man, soul, or beast has survived an encounter in recorded history. I stared into the eyes of the God’tera’angun. The name echoed through my skull and caused my new flesh to tingle. Muscles contracted in the arm, it tightened. I swung in for a punch, narrowly avoiding a deadly blow from its tendril. Dodging to the left, it was able to spit a helping of burning smoke into my face, i was momentarily blinded. The abomination loomed over me and screamed from all twelve of its mouths. My ear drums busted. Everything was ringing. I began to run. Ring. Jumping over a pile of dead Crickets. Ring. Ducking under a razor thin branch. Ring. Leaping over a seemingly bottomless chasm. Ring. Head first right into the God’tera’angun. My skull cracked from the impact and my smokey form lost shape. I fell to the ground and began crawling away from the monst… a boot.

I looked up and saw a figure surrounded by pure light, carrying an ancient sword. The figure nodded to me, the blank features assuring my saftey. I watched glistening armor and tough leather clash with plated flesh and felt the shock through my body. I could see him, the Carver, leaning against a tree, smiling. He watched us from a distance with the eyes of a falcon.

I turned back in time to see the head of the monster come sliding from its shoulders. Strange color flowed from the neck and splashed onto a mechanical arm, holding a thin blade. The blade was slid into a sheath, and the figure re-adjusted their wide-brimmed hat.

My form had returned and my vision un blurred enough to meet this new friend, now dusting off their over coat, giving the armor underneath a nice breather.

I understood who it was immediately. He bore many names given, spanning countless forevers, but stuck with one name in particular.

" Tea is at second noon. Do not be late, we have much to discuss."

He handed me the key to his domain, baring the crest of Castle Domm’erauj.

I watched the Arknangel’s wings crack into existence, sending him high above the forest and away into the night.

The campsite was just beyond the trees. I was greeted by Theatre Mask, consuming crispy triangles from a strange bag. I will never understand where he obtains these.

I awoke in the dense underbrush of the Blank Forest, a forest composed of white silhouettes, making it near impossible to traverse beyond the Path of Dark Sand. The Dark sand stood as a mark, and easy guiding for souls lost in the forest. I use it for protection. Grabbit’s are known to traverse the forest, along with a minutae of sky sethe, however the Grabbit’s are the more interesting of the bunch. These creatures are purely white, like the forest they live in, but they act as ghosts, possessing the husk of a soul and commanding it. Those taken by Grabbits who have survived often recount seeing the forest in its full, green color, along with the ground. Vision seems to turn a hue of green when taken, as stated in the ‘Travelers Guide to the Beyond’, by Ian Michael Winston. They take over the body, and lead it to be impaled on the dagger-like branches of the Zthacroso Tree, whereas they depart from the husk and feed on its remains