The slums are a rundown, old heap of a town tucked deep in the jungles, with townsfolk consisting mostly of poachers, black marketeers, thieves, and fugitives. While the ideal tourist spot, some travel to the Slums to make use of the black markets. (+2 Defense, +2 Speed)

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Return to The Slums

who i once was (self) (quest)

Postby Icy Rose » 07/28/2017 4:34 PM

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Sleep would never come easily.  That was a gift that she would never be given.  It was hardly that to begin with – sleep meant vulnerability.  Vulnerability meant weakness.  Weakness, out here, meant death.  Or worse.  Synne was all too familiar with death.  She had dealt it.  It had breathed down her neck, tried to coax her into its embrace.  Little more than the wisp of the woman she once was but she had not lost her fire.  Survival was all that mattered.
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Postby Icy Rose » 07/28/2017 4:34 PM

All that laid on the ground was a haphazard heap of ragged blankets.  The walls made of a cruel metal.  No comfort to be had here.  Nothing but the bare minimums was allowed.  It would just be stolen.  It would just be lost.  Things only brought attachments.  Synne had to be ready to move at the drop of a hat.  Pick up once again and disappear into the night.  A paranoia of hers had been nurtured ever since she had been free – she would not go back to being in chains.
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Postby Icy Rose » 07/28/2017 4:35 PM

How long had she been laying there, tossing and turning before she had finally drifted off into a dream?  Recently they had grown more vivid.  They lingered in her thoughts when she woke up.  A day full of trying to shake the nightmares that kept her hiding in the shadows, a tremble in her hand.  Eyes darting every which way out of fear of being followed.  Multiplied in severity by weeks of restless sleep.  A few hours a night.  Sometimes none at all.
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Postby Icy Rose » 07/28/2017 4:36 PM

Lamenolai again.  Dreams were cruel like that – bringing up things you didn’t want to see any longer.  Why would she want to dream of the City of the Guardians while she in the Slums?  That life was so far behind her it felt impossible.

It felt familiar, though.  The dream had sent her along a path following the brilliant stone walls that surrounded the settlement.  It feels so real.  The rough feel of loose rock underneath her feat.  The smell of cuisine – not just food.  Stomach growling and mouth-watering, the dream steered her down a street.
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Postby Icy Rose » 07/28/2017 4:46 PM

Crowds of silvery ghosts flowed past her.  Synne didn’t pay any more attention to them; there was nothing to be learned.  Their eerily moaning only served to unsettle her, an echoed whisper as her shoes clacked against the pavement.  She easily moved through them – they weren’t corporeal, gifting her a chill as she shoved through them.  Serving only to give the city some semblance of life.  If this was anything like the previous dreams (this one was recurring, coming every new moon), there would only be a few worldly bodies here.  Synne knew what was waiting for her here.
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Postby Icy Rose » 07/28/2017 4:57 PM

It was never any easier.  The knots still formed in her stomach as she trudged on.  The dream would guide her there whether she liked it or not; if she tried to avoid it, the streets would curve and curve in and endless maze until it lead her to the heart.  It had one objective and it, like her, would not give up until its goal was met.

That didn’t mean she would not hesitate as she waited outside the threshold of a familiar restaurant.  The name of it lost to the sands of her memory, the sign that hung above it blurred.  One of the ghostly figures leaned against the window and, when she had lingered for too long, floated through her.
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Postby Icy Rose » 07/29/2017 1:37 AM

A familiar figure sat at a table, a cup of coffee in hand and a smile she hadn’t shared in years pasted across her face.  Joyful.  Optimistic.  Something Synne hadn’t felt for as long as she remembered.  This life – the one that haunted her dreams – wasn’t who she was anymore.  A carefree life.  Friends.  Family.  Love.

That’s all she saw through the window of that shop.  The person that she had been once upon a time.  A girl in a cushion, a girl who never had to worry, a girl who had a home to return to.  It was easy to pretend she wasn’t just an outsider looking in – a woman who slept in a metal shack instead of an actual home – but there would never be dream that served as anything other than to remind her of everything she had lost.

A nightmare.
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Postby Icy Rose » 07/29/2017 3:14 AM

It was less of a dream and more of a memory.  A reminiscent time of when she was a woman who had something to live for.  A family who would see her – a family that knew she was alive.  All she was, now, was an obituary and a headstone.  Something forgotten to the sands of time.  

Every time this dream came back she was reminded that no one would remember her.  Not as she truly was.  That Synne was dead and no one would know this Synne long enough to mourn her.

The conversation was lost to the fake sounds of a busy street corner and the ghosts but the words were known to heart.  A playful conversation about work, about her sister, about her brother, about her mother.

How are they? that girl inside the establishment questioned, because she had never bothered to keep in contact.  Too much work, getting roped into conversations that would last too long when she had better things to do.  How fickle that all seemed from the other side of the veil.
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Postby Icy Rose » 07/30/2017 12:05 AM

They weren't well, but neither of them talked about it.  Her companion just laughed into the mug of liquid they were holding for an uncomfortably long time.  Enough recurrences of this dream and Synne had come to realize that they were both avoiding bad news.  

She still didn't know what that news was.  Any contact with her family was long gone.  Impossible to talk to your family when you're dead.

Suddenly, all those ghostly figures sitting at the tables turned to look at her in one foul swoop.  Slowly that younger version of herself craned her neck and made eye contact with her.
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Postby Icy Rose » 07/30/2017 2:29 AM

An eerie screeching began ringing from all directions.  It was emitting from all directions; the ghosts and figures within the shop began to melt away as the ones on the street around her began caving in.  Delicate rays of sunlight that were flowing through the windows suddenly went black though the gentle sun heat turned scorching.  

Suddenly, it all went black.  Nothingness.  Something she was familiar with.  She was subjected to weeks, maybe months of it.  It was no different in dreams.  Synne was lucky it wasn't real this time.  It was always easier in dreams.  There was an escape.


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