Live free or die by the sword
Retired Forum Staff
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It's about time for me to pony up Cucumba's back story . . . so here it comes. I don't know how often I'll be able to write in it, but it will give those who write about him an insight into his past and perhaps his future.
The first installment is under construction, please post comments in a seperate thread.
And now, our prologue:
Darkness.
It was everywhere, and it was everything. Chaos was the only order. From these gulfs of madness came the old ones. They swarmed through the universe, consuming all they tuched with madness and strife. They ruled in the dark and chaos for untold millenia and the bridges between their relm beyond the edges of the dreamscape and all other places, spanned into the worlds we now call home.
However, just as they surplanted the nameless elder gods before them, a new order was arriving.
Darkness, in it's true essence, has never been all black. Absence of light renders those who wallow in it blind, but to those who's senses extend past such surface absentia see colors of rare and exciting quality. Colors that cannot be wholly or partially understood, or described by our feeble vocabulary. Still, these colors are there, and out of the blackened gods, one stood as a veritable rainbow of these terrible colors.
He was the gate and the key, the door to a thousand worlds, and untold number of whens. This being was called Cucatoth. And he shimmered with all the splendors of things best left unknown and buried in ancient crypts long forgotten. But that is a luxury we have now, and in the time of this tale, he lie awake with all eyes open. It was through his power that they moved about as they pleased, and took what they would from those who could not oppose them. And so the other elder things payed him homage, and made pacts and terrible alliances with him. For without him, the bridges that spanned the gulfs were closed.
And so it came to pass that a pact or an alliance, one whom's terrible consequenses of breach are not known even to this author, came to be called upon. And the nature of this calling was DOOM.
From the darkened colors of madness and chaos, a spark of divinity fell into the wells of infinity and took shape as a dark herald of the wrath of a horrible thing that lie in places between places.
This spark is where our tale begins.
The first installment is under construction, please post comments in a seperate thread.
And now, our prologue:
Darkness.
It was everywhere, and it was everything. Chaos was the only order. From these gulfs of madness came the old ones. They swarmed through the universe, consuming all they tuched with madness and strife. They ruled in the dark and chaos for untold millenia and the bridges between their relm beyond the edges of the dreamscape and all other places, spanned into the worlds we now call home.
However, just as they surplanted the nameless elder gods before them, a new order was arriving.
Darkness, in it's true essence, has never been all black. Absence of light renders those who wallow in it blind, but to those who's senses extend past such surface absentia see colors of rare and exciting quality. Colors that cannot be wholly or partially understood, or described by our feeble vocabulary. Still, these colors are there, and out of the blackened gods, one stood as a veritable rainbow of these terrible colors.
He was the gate and the key, the door to a thousand worlds, and untold number of whens. This being was called Cucatoth. And he shimmered with all the splendors of things best left unknown and buried in ancient crypts long forgotten. But that is a luxury we have now, and in the time of this tale, he lie awake with all eyes open. It was through his power that they moved about as they pleased, and took what they would from those who could not oppose them. And so the other elder things payed him homage, and made pacts and terrible alliances with him. For without him, the bridges that spanned the gulfs were closed.
And so it came to pass that a pact or an alliance, one whom's terrible consequenses of breach are not known even to this author, came to be called upon. And the nature of this calling was DOOM.
From the darkened colors of madness and chaos, a spark of divinity fell into the wells of infinity and took shape as a dark herald of the wrath of a horrible thing that lie in places between places.
This spark is where our tale begins.