Benton | Incunabuli
http://Incunabuli.com — Adventure Gothic.
A pen-and-paper RPG by Benton.
Currently posting: Rumors, lies, and fairytales from the Littoral Superposition.
- If a siren can't woo and devour a sailor, she’ll pick oysters from their beds and suck them down with gusto.
- By the Winnowing's end, the red sky fades; life resumes. None will speak of those who disappeared under the red aurora.
- On some nights, dull pounding echoes from the dry catacombs beneath land. The catacombs were locked from the inside. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- The walls of Hellebore Castle's catacombs are etched with images of tentacled beasts. Things move and slither dryly behind the walls. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- Humanity's skill in sorcery swells once again. Without caution, they'll burn to nothing all that remains of their tiny, frayed world.
- The ancients built Tombs; resting places for secrets which they'd rather the world forget.
- Steel has long been humanity's strongest ally in its long war against the encroaching Otherworld. Its cold weight burns the flesh of ælves.
- Iron-clad, fiery industry is the mark of the Coast, the mark of civilization. It is the force by which humans resist the Otherworld.
- In the depths of Tombs rest relics of a wicked kind. Secrets too terrible to be told, but too beautiful to be destroyed.
- Humanity rarely learns. Just two millennia after burying the Sorceries which would have ended their World, greedy hands unearth them again.
- The seeds of giant sunflowers may explode, heated by the heady sun. They burst in a tiny, fluffy eruption, like a bird caught by a cat.
- The library's more ancient tomes, bound in human skin and prone to moving, are kept chained in cells. Sorcery has lent them a fierce life. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- For the foolishness of the ancient Nör, Humanity suffers. Their tiny World is beset ceaselessly by the terrible realms which adjoin it. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- Humanity's fear of eyes in the dark is nothing irrational. The very real terror of red-eyed ragmen was set in their hearts long ago. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- Tombs are repositories for neither the dead nor the buried. They are places for secrets, for things to be forgotten. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- Ælves' veins flow with an inky black ichor. In places, traceries of tiny, black-purple lines show under their ashen-pale skin. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- Deep in the catacombs, empty coffins surround a yawning pit. Its edges are carved with curling tentacles. It stinks of ancient rot. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- Statues stood under the sea. Cold men and women cast from stone; each staring with hard, blind brass eyes crusted with green tarnish. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- Students have died during midnight meeting in the West Garden. Such people are allowed to simply disappear. Such is the value of secrecy. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- The Winnowing calls weird, man-faced beasts from beneath dead trees. They hunt, leering through windows, looking for a source of blood. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- The hunched, horned profile of a ragwretch silhouetted in the moonlight is an instinctively repulsive sight, like a putrid wound. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- The Otherworld is terrifyingly real. All one requires to enter its alien depths is a door. A door, or an ælf as a guide. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- It is said the Nôr are extinct; their own sorceries consumed them. They stand as a lesson against the wanton use of magicianry, today.
- Scores of burial-statues have been sold to civilized homes. By the time the bones inside are found, it will be too late.
- Different personas are worn when visiting the West Garden at midnight. Such guises permit freedom both intellectual and carnal. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- The Academy's library is only partially mapped. Portions of it, hidden behind nooks and secret doors, have long slipped from memory. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- Ancient Sorcerers filleted their brains. They pressed these fleshy, living leaves and sewed them into Incunabula. Into books of Sorcery.
- Librarians have disappeared within the library's immense halls of stacks. Narry a sign of them, save a bookmark left in remembering.
- Their way, it scares you. The raggedy folk; in their vernal parlors under the moonlit boughs with their liquor and their toasted meat and their high-kicking clicking heels on flat barn-doors borrowed from the Granger. You despise them only for their appearance—and for their freedom.
- Nailing a horseshoe over one's door is regarded as a silly, traditional deterrence to ælves. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- The Academy's west garden has been locked up for decades. Students meet there at midnight to teach each other what the Magisters won't. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- Some say the yearly carnage of the Winnowing is a force of nature. Others say it's Humanity's fault, that we bring it upon ourselves. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- He’d disappeared. The bars unbent. The lock fast. The shackles yet locked. The jailer sound asleep with the keyring. The cellmate: hysterical. Laughing. All questions put to him: unanswerable.
- After bleached bones were discovered inside the undersea statues, a cover-up was staged. The statues were sold, despite their grisly nature. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- Mice first crawled into the World from under the roots in elms. They appeared, straightened their waistcoats, and joined society.
- An empty throne lies in the heart of abandoned Castle Hellebore. On its arms are carved these words: the king is near; the king is here
- The black stain of ælf-blood will never leave one's skin. Even when it fades, any ælf in the world will see it; a stain on the soul.
- An alf's touch reacts energetically with the flesh of iron-blooded creatures. The barest touch is like a spark. A kiss, electric—though often fatal for reasons unrelated.
- The subarctic Castle Hellebore is meant to be abandoned. Not so, say those who have glimpsed pale faces down every freezing hall.
- It is by the fault of Sorcery that the Otherworld predates our own. Sorcery opened the misty gates through which ælves and monsters creep. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- In their nocturnal moots at the West Garden, students are met by ælves. The Otherworldly creatures whisper secrets over cups of gifted wine. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- The high, croaky laughter of ragwretches cuts through the silent woods like a knife. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- The carcasses of an ancient race rest uneasily within the High Tombs. Only the bravest of raiders dare to pick their guarded bones. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- The practice of modern magic carries a grisly price. Countless injections, surgeries, and knucklebone transplants are the cost of its power. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg
- Tombs are rarely found without an ancient guardian; a machine of flesh and steel made eternal and unwavering by the powers of Sorcery. #lore #incunabuli #ttrpg