Songs Of Shadow

Life and Death. Ecstasy and Agony. Love and Void. These are the elements of the Great Drama, this is the motion of The Wheel.

A world of a burning surface where everything has to fight to survive lays like an untapped geode, caverns under the surface are alive like blood in the veins of a titan, glittering with luminescent fungi, casting a dancing light on crystal spires and forgotten ruins. There are black oceans, deep enough to drown continents, rivers of fire and molten metal, mushroom that tower over any monument ever made by man. Horrors wait for the the final torch of explorers to flicker and die. Are you with them?

There's a party in a palace hidden deep within a spiral labyrinth of a maze constructed of facinerack where every guest is more distinguished than the next. Adorned with petals of fractured worlds in the form of pillaged styles and cultures, they partake in writhing meals that morph through many properties as they cross your tongue. Chrome-skinned pleasureslaves with laughs like crystal bells weep amphetamine tears while they give their all to a swan-song performance before becoming dessert. Do you attend?

In a ramshackle church on a forgotten fringe planet a girl clings to a sigil. Her skin is changed from her birth to that of solid stone, a weeping angel, and all too animate for the tastes of those around. She is whispering mutterings of foreign tongue and worship of hope into a flickering flame that hides nearly snuffed in her hands. Hoards of monstrous beastial figures consume the horizon, equipped not with weapons of forge but weapons of birthrite in gnashing teeth and killer claws. What some of the natives of the planet call angels and others call demons descend from heaven like a meteor shower in the night, for one may be bestowed title of 'champion' should they find her. Do you save her?

A band of marauders plate their ship with the carcasses of raided vessels, bones and flesh. Their tech and crew is cobbled together from every Banner. Despite a cutthroat nature brotherhoods form among them, ran by one of single eye but yet a observancy that outweighs all the disloyalty of his namesake. For even despite his exile, he finds loyalty to his name through the eyes that look to him for guidance. He is a survivor. Yet when the captain goes missing and the ship goes down in a solar storm, it throws the state of your futures into question. There is a divide amongst the crew as the ship squeals out as it begins to enter atmosphere and catch fire. Do you survive?

So many minuscule notches on an infinite Wheel.

Empires are forged, rise, burn, and are devoured in the blink of an eye. The divide between mortal, diviner, and god is vast and the three constantly wrestle with the fact. Those who place their chips play a high-stakes game, of territory wars in a fractured and forgotten reality laying scattered across the abyss of existence.

Somewhere in all this is you.

Who are you?

What are you?

Why are you?

It's a Cycle.

There's a Wheel, and it's spinning.