The Reverie: A Deeper Look May 19, 2011 20:45:00 GMT -5
Post by Sethron on May 19, 2011 20:45:00 GMT -5
The Fantasy is a world of magic and fancy. Beautiful architecture rises up and glows under the gentle watch of the red sun and shimmers beneath the luminescence of the four cardinal moons. The gods are no question here, as many have been struggled for and against, overthrown and risen up through deeds of belief. Ships fly through the air and transport people to the more populated cities, while the wilderness remains an enchanting mystery awaiting exploration.
Fey and gods, animal folk and sentient magical beasts; that's what the Fantasy is made of. Magic weaves itself as thick as threads through the fabric of the world, and the natives use it to create colorful displays for carnivals and parties. Art and beauty reign, and war is a tale of bards and books. Disagreements and strife among small groups rises and falls quickly, glory easily seized through the exploration and besting of monsters on the horizon.
Weaker gods walk commonly among the residents here, and their children are as common as the most common of the races, weakly tinted godblood an understood part of daily life. Lost princesses and knights in shining armor--there is little skepticism.
The power to capture magic and elements in small vessels has powered floating cities and a train that travels the continent. The citizens do not want for light by the glow of ever-burning torches. The mists of the Afallon spread deep to the south and east, protecting the fey and and their expansive kingdoms and odd cultures. Adventurers search it for the steps, presumed to lead up to the Spirit world, where the Gods return when they are done wandering among the mortals.
Beneath the waves of the expansive ocean and seas alike, the Aquan races make their lives, cultures as breathtaking and ancient as any other. The amphibious ones near the coast make trade with the port towns and create alliances. Some guide sailors across the waterways. Though, even still, some are more dangerous, luring wayfarers to their deaths or tricking them into deals of endless life of enslavement.
The most populated universe of the Reverie, the Illusion is a place made of thoughts. Shadows are more visible here, where they walk with vague forms of those living and dreaming without Chimera. A grey palette with an empty expanse that can be anything or nothing at all, based only on the will of your imagination.
Cities rise in the illusion where people gather--to believe it is there is to mean it exists. Time bears no relevance on those with powerful minds, making roads between areas shorter or longer as they wish. Where opposing minds war for dominance, the world shakes and alters spontaneously underfoot.
The Illusion is commonly understood as the closest to the real plane, the easiest to wake up from and the easiest to enter through. Most Chimera originate from here, pockets of reality created in the Illusion that are no different from any other static world.
The shadows are dark, flickering images of those who dream moving through the Illusion. They control the world around them with a small amount of willpower, and would not be able to war for dominance with a Chimera. It gives the vast expanses of the Illusion form, though, and changes the places that would otherwise be empty into something more resembling of a world our minds understand.
The Gateway is the only stagnant and constant thing in the Illusion, a city that is built on the understanding and belief of its residents, so thoroughly emblazoned into the minds of all who see it that it never shifts or alters. At its center, the dark towers rise high into the ever-twilight sky, stories upon stories with spires in black marble that look like two dimensional stencil art against the gradient sky from a distance. From the center, the city slowly becomes shorter until it reaches the outskirts in small buildings, and from there the ruins of broken dreams stretch for miles--skeletal structures of buildings and scenery that were important to someone but had too little faith to continue to be. The Gateway takes these things and slowly builds itself larger, strong emotions that find their way to its central towers and move its clock hands on the gothic clockface.
The Delusion is a vast and sprawling land full of chivalry and fantasy. Castles tower above the landscape, like testaments of the will of the surrounding kingdom, in spite of the natural obstacles. Glorious kingdoms have risen and fallen, and will continue to do so long in to the future. Armies war in ancient grudges, originating too far back in to the past for anyone to any longer care.
Elves found beautiful cities in the treetops, protecting their homes with zealous passion. Living forever, they thrive on art and perfection, reveling in aesthetic. Their cities, almost exclusively wooden, have been made by guiding the trees' growths in to suitable residences and establishments with powerful nature magic.
Dwarves, residing in beautiful cave complexes rich in metals and precious stones, live in the naturally occuring caverns in mountains, or in grand halls and rooms they've carved out along the way. Tribes often meet and debate policies, or war with each other over the smallest slights, often resolving the issue in equally a meaningless manner... Or causing blood feuds that last decades in to the future.
Humans are, as always, many and varied in culture, though most follow ancient feudal cultures. Harvesting wood or rock, mud or straw, they build small towns, which grow in to cities, which grow in to castles, keeps, and kingdoms.
The ancient land, in human terms, of Galthoria, is reminescent of ancient european cultures. Their buildings are styled in French or English medieval architecture, and their knights and soldiers wear chain or plate mail, wield longswords and bows, as well as crossbows, riding atop noble steeds. They have a loose class system of Knights and peasants, with Nobles ruling atop them. Galthoria is divided in to hundreds of kingdoms, all of which thirsting to unify the land and declare his or her house King. Much talk of seeking powerful artifacts such as Excaliber or the Holy Grail perforate Galthoria, and knights often go on holy quests to attain them. Mages manipulate the kingdoms from the background, or give beautiful and terrible displays of magical power. Some are organized in to guilds, and others simply manifest their might and work alone.
Jinaka, with its oriental construction and caste system, is an echo of feudal oriental societies. Samurai follow a rigid honor system, and peasants toil in hard, crushing existances. The nobles are organized in to Houses, each named after an animal, or in some cases insects. The houses have lands given to them by the first Emperor, and constantly war for more land, or to dominate this or that house. Some of the most proficient and artful crafters in the realm reside here, forging powerful weapons, and infusing them with ambient souls or ghosts of ancestors or powerful creatures. Shamans and wise men commune with spirits and ghosts, and beg their favor. Warriors and peasants alike often band together to repel bandits and demons plaguing their gates... All overshadowed by the wars and diplomacy of the houses.
Orcs and Goblins, Kappa and Kobolds, and all manner of beast man roves the lands, raiding towns or warring on the Elves or Dwarves, or, and most commonly, humans. Dragons of all shape and size rove the countryside, stealing virgins and treasure, amassing wealth and playing deep games of strategy and intrigue. All through the realm are shrines and obelisks, ancient structures that have origins so deep and so magical that the oldest and most learned scholars cannot divine their existance. Kingdoms rise and fall as swiftly as dreams, though the above have been given such substance that they aren't prone to fading.
The Delusion is a fantastic and beautiful, albeit terrifying and dangerous world. Fantastic and forbidden Shakespearean romance cohabitates with ancient, glorious quests, and bloody sprawling wars of swords and sorcery. Visitors and residents alike beware; The Delusion is as dangerous as it is beautiful.
The phantasm is a world made of dark artistry. Each house looks drawn onto the landscape, the creatures that move seem to be a little too skinny and stylized to be real. It's a world of masks, each creature covering its face with some sort of concealment, however elaborate or plain. The world seems to be covered in clockworks and brass, and everything has a soul here, however small or inanimate the item might be.
The Chimera of this place are the most diverse, only a few taking the shape of something even uniform. Races do not exist, although more seem to be formed in the shape of humans than others. Some of them are merely balls on stilts with nothing but a mask for a face. The only thing that ties the Chimera here together is that each wears a mask, although the definition of that seems to be skewed somewhat--a mask can be as simple as an eyepatch or a piece of tinfoil over the nose hooked behind the ears--but they function as the soul of the creature they are attached to until they die and begin their walk. The exception to the rule of masks, however, is the sphinx. Small to large cat forms, made of mismatched junk, that end themselves in a human face.
Death is a part of the phantasm, ghosts walk along and talk of their previous lives. They venture to the steps up the mountain on the horizon where they will be reworked by the soulforge. The sphinx is common here, wandering like small house cats and devouring books. They often riddle and consume the flesh of those who do not best them if they are large enough or numerous enough to overpower their victim.
The rivers flow with a mirror shine here. Unable to see the bottom, a person can easily be dragged beneath the water and be lost to it. Technology that rests in the era of steampunk inhabits the world and drives it on, with the rare steam powered vehicle. Each window has two views, showing a person a glance into the world they reside in and showing what is actually beyond the window with a second glance.
The dangers of the dark are present here, seeping into the world and crawling quickly through it. With just a touch, it crystalizes and turns to dust what it consumes, then moves onword. Behind it, new buildings rise, the residents quickly reconstructing what they had lost as the spirits wander aimlessly toward the west.
The Phantasm shares its borders with the Nightmare, but rarely do the Chimeras of the Nightmare venture into it, too confused by its fluid nature. The Phantasm's disorienting existence stands as a wall between the Nightmare Chimera and the rest of the Reverie, although whether the Phantasm or the Nightmare is more terrifying is up to interpretation.
The world of the strange Aeon is a world of high technology, social acceptance, and of horror and despair. In a world deceptively similar to our own, the most frightening things lurk. At a glance, the people move about as normal people would in a science fiction novel. Humans with unnaturally colorless features from their white skin to white hair and eyes, and then those who have dyed themselves all variations of expressive palettes walk by on busy suburban streets through expansive cities in a near future.
This world progressed much like the world as we know it, until they developed a new technology. They called it the "D-engine". This device was a marvel--a combination of magic and science. This new advancement meant a source of clean and limitless energy. It rocketed the world into a new era of space exploration and advancement in every area of the scientific community.
However, this new explosion of science did not go unnoticed. Despite what the humans of the planet believed, They were not alone in the universe. The Migou are a race that had existed for long before mankind. . . and they fancied themselves the rulers of all they knew and could reach. The invention of the D-engine marked a turning point in history. The humans had achieved something the Migou had not. . . and this would not do. They decided to engineer a new race, because it would not do well to reveal themselves to this race of monkeys they had been observing. . . Using human DNA, they created the Nazzadi, a race that looked like completely black humans with red eyes, and, after giving their creation a false history and racial sense of pride, they unleashed them upon the the people of earth.
After a long period of war, the truth of the Nazzadi was discovered. The first born officers of the armies had always known that they were artificial, but they soon realized that the horrible tales the Migou had spun to demonize the human race were as fabricated as the racial lie they had fed their descendants. After a few long peace talks, the Nazzadi were brought into the global community. For a few years, the world was at peace as the Nazzadi struggled to fit in to society, before, inevitably, the Migou struck. . . and as the invasion force approached, a sweeping realization came over the populace of world: they were all in this together; regardless of race.
As the war raged on, another force began to make itself known. "The Cults"--the worshipers of the lost and forgotten Gods of the cosmos. . . entities such as the Dead God Hastur and the Great Sleeping Cthulu. The prophecies of the past were showing signs of coming to bear, and the cults saw the war as the perfect time to launch their plans to release their lords upon the mortal coil. The Migou and the Humans, both knowing the threat that the Gods would pose, struggled to crush the Cults; however, the war on multiple fronts is draining both sides. . . and the only ones who are gaining ground are the Cults and the Migou.
The Nightmare is more frightening beneath the surface. What rests under the shadows of the faces of men and women that look normal are psychic powers and monsters, neither of them stable. It is home to Engels--ressurected corpses of the Gods that haunt, hollowed out and pieced back together so that pilots may man them as mecha. It is home to Tagers--elite and hidden combat units that feed half of their soul to a monster from the depths to house it in their body for the power to turn into it for horrible purpose. It is home to monsters that one can only hope do not rise from the seas, large enough to consume cities. But more than anything, it is home to people--people just like those you see when walking around outside the Reverie, but capable of doing so much more. . .
With so much less to lose.