[BLUEROSE]

"No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. But I know none, and therefore am no beast."

The dark keep in the Underdark. A tall structure made of gothic tiles, weeping moss, a place for those who have no place to go. Nowhere to belong.

And now, it bleeds its inhabitants.

---

A seething torrent of them. Humans, beastkins, mutants. Things with too many eyes, others with too little limbs-- pouring from every fissure, scrambling over the bridge of this nefarious castle.

No alarms sound. No orders are shouted. Just the skittering, desperate rhythm of a nest abandoned. A reflection of what transpired.

The chain of command has been severed by a single clean cut. Whatever order existed; now crumbled.

And then She is there. A figure stands at the entrance-- at the head of the great causeway, not walking, but simply completing the space where she stands, and with a single step from the entity-- the last of the stragglers vanish into the crevices.

The castle is no longer just a fortress for the lost. It is a throne. With a self-crowned monarch at its seat.

Rumors of a new power-- of how the sovereign has barred any and all who has affiliation with the dark arts and the Supreme Elowliche.

Yet, the same whispers tell of an offer: those who seek a place to call theirs, and those who wish to offer services towards the new power should reach out.
(/message Superbia)