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>“For millennia, there has been a keen interest in the skies above. From the primitive scrawling in the ancient caves of our ancestors, to vast monuments dedicated to the stars in our view, humanity has always been enamored with the night sky. However, while there may be many deities based upon numerous celestial objects, our most beloved and fanciful tales comes from our star, the sun.”
>The Ancient Skies by Robert Wilson
Robert Wilson was an archaeologist dedicated to the research of ancient astrology. His findings took him worldwide, from the giant pyramids of Egypt, to the lost cities of the Aztecs, Mayans, and Incans. Wilson’s recordings seemed to be almost fantastical in the way he wrote them. The beautiful enchantresses and their amorous admirers, the trickster gods and the heroic saviors, even the most obscure tale bespeaking creatures of old were included. It was all one grand story, interconnected across the globe, and he was loved for his awe-inspiring discovery. Widely respected, his writings were considered to be of the highest esteem in the late 19th century.
However, as the years went by, the tales that he found grew darker. They told of the shadows lurking beyond the veil, writhing monsters creeping deep into the crust of the earth, and the mad demons preying upon all mortals just beyond the fabric of reality. The most numerous of his tales were stories of the sun, which was said to be our tyrannical guardian against the abominations in the dark. Yet, there was a sense of fragility, of strangeness in his words that made it seem like they would disappear into thin air. In fact, the more that Wilson uncovered, the more that he believed in the dark tales of old.
Soon, he fell into a delirium that no man could quantify. Wilson excluded himself from the rest of the world as his prestige began to sink downhill. One day, he all but vanished, along with most of his work. The world soon forgot his existence, for Robert Wilson became unimportant and insignificant in the eyes of humanity. His workings were branded as the demented ramblings of a madman, and so the old tales were soundly hidden away before their depraved whispers could be heard. The sole evidence of Wilson’s mark upon the world was a book, titled The Ancient Skies. Only one copy remained. His last book, never published, never finished, never before seen by human eyes- until now.
>You open the book. What do you find inside?
>[ ] A blank page with a few ink blots in the corner. At a closer look, the blots look like pools of fresh blood.
>[ ] Illegible scribbles from an unknown language. The page is crumpled and the sides are torn in frustration.
>[ ] A seemingly innocuous recipe for Rhubarb Pie. The paper is warm, and beckons you with it's sweet smell.
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>>1364308
>>[ ] A seemingly innocuous recipe for Rhubarb Pie. The paper is warm, and beckons you with it's sweet smell.
MYSTERY BOX!
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>>1364308
>[ ] A seemingly innocuous recipe for Rhubarb Pie. The paper is warm, and beckons you with it's sweet smell.
All shall be well.
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>>1364333
>>1364334
>[ ] A seemingly innocuous recipe for Rhubarb Pie. The paper is warm, and beckons you with it's sweet smell
>Roll: 19
The very moment your hands touch the soft leather bindings, the page's alluring aroma wafts into your nose. However, as you are a suspicious young soul, you see the trap for what it is, and quickly let go of the book before it can steal your mind.
Slipping on a pair of gloves, you again approach the cursed object on your table, and you hold a cloth over your nose and mouth as you open it once more.
Inside, you find a recipe for Rhubarb Pie, yet at a second glance, you notice a pattern hidden among the words:
It's a cipher.
>What do you do?
> [ ] Try to find the key.
> [ ] Turn the page.
> [ ] Look on the back of the book.
> [ ] Write in. Scrawl something on the book.
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>>1364452
>[ ] Turn the page.
And all shall be well.
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>>1364460
>>1364507
>>1364510
>[ ] Turn the page.
>Roll: 11
As you turn the page, you see that the recipe continues onto the back. It reads as follows:
>"...once you have it red hot, do not despair. Be well, for the pie will always be there. Sit the rhubarb upon the dough, and smile."
Confused by the strange directions, you look back on the previous page, trying to glean any answers from this gibberish, but it was to no avail. You think that the critics might have been right, and that poor old Wilson really was a madman, when you see a crease in the dogeared corner of the page. On it are five little dots, spaced evenly in a single line.
>What do you do?
> [ ] Try to decipher this weird recipe.
> [ ] Turn the page.
> [ ] Throw the book on the floor in frustration.
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>>1364707
>[ ] Turn the page.
And all manner of thing shall be well.
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>>1364726
>>1364731
> [ ] Turn the page.
> [ ] Roll: 6
Thinking that the dots are unimportant, you turn the page once more. There, the recipe ends, and you decide to try baking it.
Gathering up all of your materials, you do as the book instructed. However, as you are a 21st century ape, you use your oven instead of the prescribed wood fire stove. While the oven preheats, you hum a little ditty as you gather the sugar and the flour and mix the two, flattening it into a pan. You then place a large helping of chopped rhubarb, bot it with some butter, and cover the pie with the remaining mixture.
After you place the pie in the oven, you sit by, happily humming your song along with the birds as you wait. The early morning sun shines down on your little head...
Only to despair, for the oven door blasted open, turning into a portal. Demonic barbs, hidden in the dough, rose from the pie with a vengeance. Writhing with the furies of hell, the pie drags you into the abyss.
>What do you do?
> [ ] Panic.
> [ ] Call for help.
> [ ] Wait and see what happens.
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>>1364802
>> [ ] Call for help.
> [ ] Panic.
>Attempt to escape man-eating pie
"HELP! OUR PIE IS TRYING TO EAT US!"
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>>1364802
>[ ] Wait and see what happens.
>[ ] Smile. Just as the recipe instructed.
Indeed, all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.
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>>1364892
In the interest of moving on, I'll switch my vote to panicking and running away. Possibly also grabbing the book and desperately searching for some explanation to the hellishly-writhing abyss.
Our protagonist is perhaps not yet aware of the truest nature of all things.
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>>1364916
>Our protagonist is perhaps not yet aware of the truest nature of all things.
Probably not if he isn't insane yet.
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>>1364916
Very well then. Indeed, he is not. On we march.
>>1364834
1 > [ ] Call for help.
2 > [ ] Panic.
3 > [ ] Attempt to escape man-eating pie
4 > [ ] Attempt to grab book.
> Roll 1: 4
> Roll 2: 7
> Roll 3: 13
> Roll 4: 16
You try to call out for help, but it does no good, for you live miserably alone in your pathetic hovel, and your desperate wails only encourages the pie. Panicking, you begin to claw at the floor, kicking at the monstrosity holding fast to your legs. This does nothing but encase you into it's barbed tentacles, but at the very least, the barbs do no further damage to your smooth skin.
Left with no other options, you attempt to escape the pie's grasp. This garnered some modicum of success, as you tricked the creature by stabbing it with your pocket knife. Yet, it is in vain, for while you have indeed broken free of the pie's iron grip, it is too late. Your body is stuck halfway through the portal, and there is no way of getting out. Before your soul falls down into the darkness of the void, your eyes catch the sight of the accursed book. Knowing that it may be your only hope, you quickly snatch it with your shaking hands before you disappear off the face of the Earth...
Just as Robert Wilson did, 100 years ago.
> What happens now?
> [ ] You fall for what seems like forever, then land on a soft, fuzzy surface. A deep, thundering growl rumbles beneath your feet, and the stench of rot nearly induces you to vomit.
> [ ] You immediately appear in a pitch black cave. The sound of water dripping is all that can be heard in the damp void. Luckily, you came with matches, so you can read the book.
> [ ] Write in.
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>>1364986
>> [ ] You fall for what seems like forever, then land on a soft, fuzzy surface. A deep, thundering growl rumbles beneath your feet, and the stench of rot nearly induces you to vomit.
I'm fine with any option at the moment, nothing seems to be really striking to me.
>>1364986
>Just as Robert Wilson did, 100 years ago.Was Robert Wilson the protagonist of Don't Starve, by any chance?
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>>1364986
>[ ] You fall for what seems like forever, then land on a soft, fuzzy surface. A deep, thundering growl rumbles beneath your feet, and the stench of rot nearly induces you to vomit.
Why would you put a write in option here? We could end up voting for something which you have no idea and/or inclination to write about, like falling into an endless expanse of pitch-black sea or into the Quasi-Elemental Plane of Rhubarb.
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>>1364999
>Quasi-Elemental Plane of Rhubarb.
This is a sorely tempting option to me now. Can we go for it?
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>>1364998
Not particularly. Although I can see why you'd make the connection
>>1364999
What can I say? I like to tempt fate.
>>1365003
I'll put it down to chance.
If the roll is over 10 ->>[ ] You fall for what seems like forever, then land on a soft, fuzzy surface. A deep, thundering growl rumbles beneath your feet, and the stench of rot nearly induces you to vomit.
If the roll is under 10 ->>Quasi-Elemental Plane of Rhubarb.
Cross your fingers, folks.
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>>1365003
It is a dreadful place. Ever are beings of purest rhubarb are being born of the rhubarb, made men by the rhubarb, and undone by the rhubarb. Beneath the rhubarb-tinted light, those maddening horrors-that-should-not-be dance and twist and boil in their cannibalistic dance of life and death.
One such as us would not be welcome. Therefore, let us not invite ourselves.
Fear the rhubarb, anon. By the gods, fear it.
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>>1365013
>Ever are beings of purest rhubarb are being born of the rhubarb, made men by the rhubarb, and undone by the rhubarb.
“Oh, you think the rhubarb is your ally, you merely adopted the rhubarb. I was born in it, molded by it. I didn’t see the pie until I was already a man; by then, it was nothing to me but disgusting!”
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>>1365021
Precisely why we would not last a moment there. We know nothing of true rhubarb; but the terrors that lie in wait for us have bathed in the sickly sweet seas of that forsaken place since the moment of their birthing.
Pie is not of the rhubarb. To trap the rhubarb within pie is heresy. Know that not all of the rhubarb is sweet - there lies also poison.
>>1365038
PANIC.
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>>1364986
>>1365038
>>1365047
>>1365049
The portal spits you out, and as quickly as it came, it left, abandoning you in a strange, crimson realm. For as far as the eye can see, gigantic red trees fill the land around you. The wide, flowing leaves above cover the sky, blotting out the summer sun. Teeming with all sorts of horrors in the shadows, the very forest fills you with a sense foreboding. You hear a dull hum vibrating in the air, and at that point you decide that it would be best if you would move.
As you walk forth, sneaking a few paranoid glances in your way, you crash right into one of these trees.
It is then that you realize that these are not simple trees, but massive bushels of rhubarb. The entirety of what has happened begins to dawn on you.
Now utterly lost, you look down at the book in your arms. You glare at it, for the damned thing was the cause of all your torment.
Yet, it may also be your only salvation. You think of opening the book to try and find a way to get out of this plane, but you can still hear the hum getting louder, and ever closer. In fact, you can FEEL it in your very bones. You It might be a better option to keep walking until you find shelter, safe from any demons who may wish you harm.
>What do you do?
>[ ] Keep on walking.
>[ ] Read the book.
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>>1365064
>>[ ] Keep on walking.
Attempt to find out what Circle of Rhubarb we are in, if any, while we are seeking shelter from Rhubarb.
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>>1365064
>[ ] Keep on walking.
Nowhere is safe. Run. Flee the maddening hum if you can, and pray those accursed pages contain some hint of escape when you turn them once more.
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>>1365080
>Nowhere is safe. Run. Flee the maddening hum if you can, and pray those accursed pages contain some hint of escape when you turn them once more.
If we had bothered to decrypt the passages Wilson left for us, he probably left a warning along the lines of "In time, you will know the tragic extent of my failings."
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>>1365090
That comes later. It first begins: "Rhubarb has come to our family."
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>>1365097
>That comes later. It first begins:
Oh god damn it. We really should've read the encrypted letter first, shouldn't we?
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>>1365090
>>1365097
>>1365100
Yes, you probably should have, you poor fools. I made the effort of enciphering a code and everything, and you still ignored it. You should have heeded Wilson's warnings, but now it is too late...
The Rhubarb...
It's happening!
>>1365064
>>1365071
>>1365080
> [ ] Keep on walking
> Roll: 17
Not wanting to find out the cause behind the dreadful hum, you sprint away, leaping over scraggly Rhubarb roots as you ran until you couldn't hear the hum anymore. What more, as you heave out your ragged breaths, you discovered a cave to take shelter in. You jump for joy, and cry happy tears.
For once, the fates smiled upon you...
However, as you went further into the cave, a thin, emaciated figure crept out of the gloom. It was an unkempt, greasy man with long, matted hair, and an even longer, more tangled beard. He wore tattered rhubarb leaves, and a necklace of barbs dangled from his throat. Crazed glee swam in his eyes, and he soon clung to you, covering you in his filth.
>What do you do?
> [ ] Shriek and push him away. Any being from this realm is dangerous, and should be treated as such.
> [ ] Try to talk to the man. He might be able to help you get out of this mad place.
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>>1365114
>> [ ] Shriek and push him away. Any being from this realm is dangerous, and should be treated as such.
First off, no touching with the rhubarb.
> [ ] Try to talk to the man. He might be able to help you get out of this mad place.
Is he one of the poor fools who activated the ritual as well?
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>>1365119
>Doubtful, but then again perhaps he can make some sense of the book.
Personally, I'm more interested in how there's another human in this godforsaken place.
>>1365119>I'm sorry, I never meant for this to happen.But let's keep going and see what happens.This is probably what the Archaeologist thought when he first delved into the Dankest Rhubarb.
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>>1365133
>Personally, I'm more interested in how there's another human in this godforsaken place.
To that, I ask of you:where do you suppose Robert Wilson ended up when he disappeared?
In any case, I have to be off for a few hours. Try not to go too insane without me.
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>>1365142
>>1365142>where do you suppose Robert Wilson ended up when he disappeared?Wait, shit. I didn't read the passages closely enough!
>>1365142
>In any case, I have to be off for a few hours.
See you, anon. It's been fun questing with you.
>Try not to go too insane without me.
No promises there, bud.
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>>1365117
>>1365119
>[ ] Try to talk to the man. He might be able to help you get out of this mad place.
> Roll: 4
The man slobbers all over you, locking you in his suffocating hold. He babbles unintelligible mutterings, and picks you up and wanders into the cave before planting you on a mat. You try to talk to him, but you fail horribly. He smiles at you, still speaking gibberish.
The cave, meanwhile, is rather dismal. It stinks of dried feces, and there is a pile of rotting Rhubarb leaves burning over a fire.
Disgusted, you begin to think that perhaps this wasn't such a lucky find after all. You think that it might be a better idea to leave, and brave the Rhubarb forest. On the other hand, while the man is revolting, he hasn't harmed you yet, and he looks like he's survived here for a very long time. He could be ample protection against the crawling chaos outside.
>What do you do?
> [ ] Leave the man. You can't understand a word he says, so he's useless. Besides, you don't like the way he covers himself in the Rhubarb taint.
> [ ] Stay with the man. While he may be unable to help you with the book, he can help you survive in the Rhubarb wilds. Without him, you may not last a day without being eaten.
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>>1365142
>>1365150
I'm going to be heading off as well. It is late at night where I am, and I need to go to sleep.
Do not fret, though, for I will soon return on the morrow. Until then, enjoy this qt pic.
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>>1365156
>> [ ] Stay with the man. While he may be unable to help you with the book, he can help you survive in the Rhubarb wilds. Without him, you may not last a day without being eaten.
This man is probably what happens if we lose all of our sanity. Still, the fact that he's human means that there's a way for people to survive in this plane.
>>1365156
I think I'll be off now. Thanks for the session, QM.
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>>1365156
>[ ] Stay with the man. While he may be unable to help you with the book, he can help you survive in the Rhubarb wilds. Without him, you may not last a day without being eaten.
Sanity is a matter of perspective. We judge others by it, but no man would ever judge himself insane; to oneself, one's actions make perfect sense.
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>>1365160
>>1365541
> [ ] Stay with the man. While he may be unable to help you with the book, he can help you survive in the Rhubarb wilds. Without him, you may not last a day without being eaten.
> Roll: 11
Since you have no idea what lurks beyond the cave walls, you decide to stick by the man in spite of his rhubarb insanity. As the days go by, the two of you fall into a routine. Too afraid to go outside, you clean up the cave, and the man goes out and hunts. The food he brings back may not be exactly mouth watering, as they are all some monstrous variation of the Rhubarb ecology, tentacled barbs and all, but it is better than starving.
However, while you may be surviving, the drab, dirt walls are terribly dull, and you have nothing to occupy your time. You try to read the book, which you still cannot make any sense of, and you try to decode the Rhubarb recipe. When there were no forseeable results, you turned a few pages in your frustration, hoping to find something more.
And you do.
Etched into the next page were harsh, red drawings depicting all manner of creatures. Some abominations were of the Rhubarb variety, and others were born of different seeds. There were fruits and vegetables, flowers and cacti, trees and shrubbery, and even grass. In the center of it all, was a bright, yellow sun, giving the plants the elixir needed to live. The demon younglings in the shadows tore at the roots of their rivals, all cannibalizing the other for their God's everlasting light.
On the bottom of the page was a note, harshly etched into the page with blood red ink...
> IT'S ALL A LIE!
>What do you do?
> [ ] Turn the page.
> [ ] Keep looking at the picture. Something is hidden in it, you know it.
> [ ] Go back and look at the recipe again. You may have missed something.
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>>1365874
>[ ] Turn the page.
All shall be-
I've said this before, haven't I?
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>>1366502
>>1366514
I'll do another roll.
Again, over 10 ->>[ ] Turn the page.
Under 10 ->> [ ] Go back and look at the recipe again. You may have missed something.
All shall be as the Fates want it to be.
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>>1365874
>>1366565The Fates have bless'd thee on this day. They may not be so merciful on the next.
>[x] Turn the page.
>Roll: 12
Your fingertips lightly touch the paper as you gently turn the page. On it, you can see a drawing of a beatific woman smiling at the viewer. She is surrounded by flora of all varieties, and she pets the head of a venus flytrap nudging against her hand. Her hair is brown, and her chocolate tresses flow straight from her oval head all the way down to the hem of her silky rose dress. Her skin looks like smooth porcelain, as beautiful as it is fragile, and upon her frail body lies two emerald eyes, vivaciously beaming with innocent, mischievous thoughts. The very same scent that you first encountered begins to blow soothingly from the page, and you can't help but smile back. Her eyes, however, have a faint shade of... otherworldly falsehood to them, almost as if she were a siren, and you were her thrall.
On the top of the page was her name, written lovingly in flowery cursive:
>Eris the Deceiver, Queen of the Fae
> Why is this here?
> [ ] Obviously this Eris had much influence over the author, causing him to draw this from his infatuation.
> [ ] The author was eaten by Eris, who wrote the recipe for the Rhubarb Pie.
> [ ] Write in.
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>>1366714
>> [ ] Obviously this Eris had much influence over the author, causing him to draw this from his infatuation.
This seems like the most likely reason for why the book seems so enthralling, the author became more reclusive, and why there's a code in the book.
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>>1366714
>[ ]Obviously this Eris had much influence over the author, causing him to draw this from his infatuation.
>[ ]And yet she has willfully seen herself named 'Deceiver'. Is this in itself part of some greater scheme?
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>>1366857
>>[ ]And yet she has willfully seen herself named 'Deceiver'. Is this in itself part of some greater scheme?
Maybe she takes pride in that, like a trickster queen?
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>>1366857
Yuh
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>>1366874
To suppose that she takes enjoyment in the challenge of conning and beguiling those who are forewarned against being conned and beguiled is, I think, to project an infinitely more human-like thought process onto a being which is, by nature, wholly incomprehensible to humankind.
Fae are Fae.
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>>1366857
>>1366874
>>1366933
>>1366956
1 >[x]Obviously this Eris had much influence over the author, causing him to draw this from his infatuation.
2 >[x]And yet she has willfully seen herself named 'Deceiver'. Is this in itself part of some greater scheme?
> Roll 1: 14
> Roll 2: 15
You look upon her picture for a scant few moments, even though it felt as if time passed into centuries before you quickly closed the book. You were almost sucked into her call, but again, you are a suspicious young soul, and so you managed to resist her tempting aroma. Once you are clear of any lingering influences, you begin to think critically on this Eris. If just a simple drawing can cause this much confusion in your head, imagine what it did to the author! It was evident that she had possessed him, if not in a direct way. Another curious thing of notice that you find is the fact that Eris openly referred herself as a 'Deceiver'. You think at first that it is simply impish pride, but as you mull it over you decide that whatever it is, this Queen isn't human, and so cannot have such human motivations. However, you keep this note in mind, for it might be of major import once you have more information.
Turning back to the book, you ponder on what to do next.
>[ ]Open the book and go back to the recipe.
>[ ]Open the book and go back to the picture of the red, cannibalizing plants surrounding the Sun.
>[ ]Open the book and go back to the enthralling picture of Eris.
>[ ]Open the book and turn the page.
>[ ]Leave the book and do something else.
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>>1367085
>[ ]Open the book and turn the page.
All shall be well. Or as well as can be.
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I'm going to be heading off for tonight. Voting will be open until I return.
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>>1367085
>>[ ]Open the book and turn the page.
So many secrets, so little time.
>>1366956
>Fae are Fae.
If that's the case, maybe once we get back we can hire a magic hobo detective to investigate these matters? I hear those types of people have been around the block.
>>1367207
Thanks for the session, QM.
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>>1367085
>[ ]Open the book and turn the page.
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>>1367085
>>[ ]Open the book and go back to the picture of the red, cannibalizing plants surrounding the Sun.
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>>1367085
I really enjoyed it so far.....very interesting and would like to see where this all could go...
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