Hecatoncheires
un jour je serai de retour près de toi
Original poster
DONATING MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
You are a death scream.
You are the last gasp of a broken species.
Your world did not end with a bang or a whimper. Instead the end came with an eruption… and a descending haze. You can see them even now. The Roots. Extradimensional protrusions forcing their way into your world. Leviathan growths on a scale your mind struggles to comprehend, towering above all, dominating the skyline. From them emanated the Mould. A choking cloud that has spread across the globe, inescapable and unrelenting. Whatever it touches, it changes. Plants. Buildings. Animals. People. As the Roots loom large, surveying the terror they have wrought, humanity has been warped and shifted into mindless horrors that dance to the tune of unseen puppetmasters.
You did not escape it's influence. None have.
You do not remember how the end came. You were asleep. They sealed you away, a last desperate attempt at preserving a species that did not yet realise it was doomed. Deep down in hidden facilities, the powers of a dying world hoped they could bury you beyond the reach of the Mould. That you might one day awaken to reclaim what was once yours.
Your would-be saviours did not bury you deep enough. The Mould still found you. But it could not change you fully. Not as it has with the once-human monsters and mutated biomass that now roams the planet.
You are Aberrant. An anomaly. An outlier. Resistant to the influence of the Mould upon your mind… yet capable of wielding it. Your body has been warped, mutated, but you can use these changes to your own advantage. They might be all that stands between you and an untimely death. The world is blighted, choked with horrors. Alien creatures and terrifying biomass that serve the beings who sit at the Roots' spires.
Your enemies are coming for you. The Invaders. Unseen masterminds of your world's demise, the fiddlers who have the infected dancing to their tunes. They know where you are buried. They know you are the only threat to their existence this world has left. And so they will destroy you… unless you destroy them first.
You have but one task left to you, now, as you are dumped from sleep into a waking nightmare. You must seize the Roots. Seal off the Invaders.
For you are a death scream. The last gasp of a broken species.
And it falls to you to write humanity's final chapter.
° Should this garner any interest I'll certainly be expanding upon the lore, but the goal is for the world to be mysterious, dangerous and there for players to discover.
° Key themes include Body Horror, Despair and Survival in the face of seemingly impossible odds. There will be blood, ultraviolence and grossness. There will be desperation, endurance and fire-forged friendships.
° My main influences for this story are 'Kingdom Death', 'Cataclysm: Dark Days Ahead' and 'Nechronica'. There's also a healthy dose of 'The Last Of Us' and 'Resident Evil' thrown in for good measure, because I just cannot help but add zombies.
° I'm aiming for fish out of water characters, people who must adapt to both the terrifying world around them and the horrifying powers the Mould has imbued them with. Key themes for these powers are Trajectory and Progression. I don't just want weird, gross fungal superpowers from the get-go, I want you to think of how those weird, gross fungal superpowers are going to grow. That's what mould does, after all.
° The only posting expectations I've got are for everyone to work together to keep the story's momentum going, and to stop me from overthinking myself into a corner like I always do. I welcome people of all writing abilities and styles. All I ask is you bring me some weird, fucked up powers and be willing to get into the vibe of the story.
° It's going to get weird, I'm going to make this weird.
Last edited:
