The Holder of Doom, as according to Jack


When humanity was truly young and Athens was far off in the seas of time, Doom was there. I would never advise the weak of mind to attempt this Object; as always, the images one might be exposed to were horrific and unsettling.

You could have gone to any unfinished structure, preferably a wall, and ask to see "The Holder of Doom." The wall would have swung aside revealing a long and winding road.

You could have walked down this road. At your left you would see the great civilisations that were to come. At your right you would see them as they fell. On your left would walk all the people who would be; on your right, their ruined corpses.

Wandering from that path brought doom.

You would eventually enter a tunnel, lit by a bright, blinding light. This light could damage the retina. Most would close their eyes and continue by feeling the walls.

As you traveled down the lights might have gone out. This darkness brought doom.

A garden lay at the end of the tunnel. A new young Tree sat in its centre, budding with apples.

A fate worse than doom fell on he who plucked an apple.

On top of the Tree sat an Eagle; at the bottom, a Snake. A Rodent carried insults between them.

That would be the time for the question.

You would ask Them, "Are all endeavours doomed?"

They would say, in a long and convoluted way, yes. They would then let you take their Object.

That was then.

When humanity was youthful and Rome was at the height of its rule, Doom was still there. I still would never advise the weak of mind to attempt this Object; as always, the images one might be exposed to there were horrific and unsettling.

You would have needed to have gone to the door of a building that had outlived its purpose and asked to see "The Holder of Doom." The door would swing open to reveal a narrow path shooting off into the distance.

At either side stood every living thing, every building, every village, town, city or country that had ever fallen, forever playing out the actions that doomed it.

Wandering from that path brought doom.

Eventually you would reach a tunnel, dark as pitch. Eyes were no use there; they might as well have been closed.

As you traveled down a bright light might have ignited. This light brought doom.

A garden lay at the end of this tunnel, a great Tree at its center. Grown into it was a Man.

This is the fate of the Man who plucked an apple.

The Man would insult you and scream at you. You could have traded insults with him.

That would be the time for the question.

You would have asked Him, "Are all endeavours doomed?"

He would say, in a long and convoluted way, no. He would then hand you His Object.

That was then.

This is now. No terror lurks there for you; any and all can take this path.

A door in the old, ruined capital of an old, ruined empire is what you seek; now in no other place will this magick be strong enough. Ask for "The Holder of Doom." You will have to pull the door open to reveal a long road suspended in nothingness.

In the darkness the occasional image will flicker, and the occasional sound will be heard. None of it will be coherent.

No matter how hard you try, you cannot stray from the path.

You will soon come to a tunnel. The light and shadows in it will balance each other, creating a dim grey. You will be able to see fairly well in there.

The light will never change.

At the end of this tunnel lay an empty, barren field, save for a tree with a one-armed man grown into it.

This is the fate of those who get in my way.

The man will tell you a story. I will play an important role. He is mostly correct in his telling save for where he has no knowledge. I will tell you what he leaves out: his imprisonment is my fault. He made the crucial error of trusting another. Not me, of course. But his questions enlightened me to his plans. I made my own. Now he is a tree.

You can attempt to ask him the question, but he will not be fazed.

He will continue his story. At the end he will repeat it, all over again. He is quite mad, you see.

His Object was number 2500 of 2538. It was a rotten apple with a single bite taken out of it. His best friend took it and with it his arm. I find that funny.

Categories: | Featured Stories | Legion's Objects |

Last modified on 2009-06-27 17:33:31Viewed 15333 times

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