The Campaign Builder's Guild

[ooc]I presented my original idea for 'take me with you!' (available here (http://thecbg.org/e107_plugins/forum/forum_viewtopic.php?82648.last)) to my gaming group, but it seems they wanted something a little more intimate, desolate and, well, insane. So that's what this is. Practically nothing like the original but like most of my stuff, it's all in the name. You'll get it soon enough.[/ooc]

It's the old story, but not how you know it.

You see... you see there was a woman. And a man.

And there were two trees.

And there was god.

And on one tree was the fruit of life.

And on the other was-

The other was...

They snuck into the garden and ate the fruit of life.

Now we live forever. Because of that.

What happened to the other tree? It's still there, I guess. I don't know what happened to it.

We only had the one chance.


the beginning is easy enough to understand. you don't even have to die.

consider moths and other nocturnal bugs. you know how they fly into the light? how you can get those glowing electric traps to zap the poor souls?

now think about dying. what people tell you dying '" nearly dying '" is like.

that light?

it's not what you think.

at the top of eternity is a statue countless miles wide and impossibly tall. it is soft and wet and grey. it is festooned with seeping holes and squirming lumps like human genitalia.

humans are always pouring out of it and tumbling down down down. they are covered in shit and blood and many of them are not whole. they are the old and young and never born. they scream like lunatics abandoned in the dark. that is what they are and that is what you will be.

there has never been a beautiful death in the history of humankind.

in the sky are men with pellucid faces and blue and yellow wings and dangling members and rabid appetites. there are tumorous women clambering across the stone with hooks and chains, gathering the falling detritus in flasks and pots. there are great hollows where parasites nest and reach out their tongues to catch the newly dead or sip the acrid soup of afterbirth.


that is the beginning of eternal life.