/donut/ - Donut Bar

As you push open the doors, you see a massive room, far bigger than the building itself could possibly be, with ancient oak tables stretching out to either side of you. The bar itself beckons, with a little sign hung every twenty feet or so saying "FREE DRINKS, SELF-SERVE"...

>Welcome to the Donut Bar.

>This place exists between worlds; any creature from any universe may end up here.

>There's only a couple of rules. I'll update them as necessary at http://8ch.net/donut/rules.html

>I'll also provide contact info there. If shit goes wrong, shoot me a message via whatever you prefer.

>Have fun. Don't lose your mind. It's a crazy, crazy world out there, and anything could happen.

The hall before you is covered in trash, the refuse of a thousand barflies. Hanging by a thread, a banner reads "CLUB SKINS"; however, someone has painted the word "EDGE" over the second half of the banner.

The whole place is lit in a blue-tinted light that stings your eyes and leaves splotchy shadows on the walls.

Around the corner, lights flash--a steady beat of shining purple. There is no music, or, rather, nothing you would call music.

Behind you, the door clicks shut, and a slightly more insistent click points out that you've been locked inside.

>This area is accessed via a purple-tinted, freestanding door in an alley in Canterlot.

You find yourself in a meadow at the base of the southeastern edge of the Kaffan mountains, near the large city of Hadiya. This is the land of Arcem.

The natives of this realm most often call it “Arcem”, after an old Patrian word for a place of refuge. Even the humblest peasant knows that it was greater once, that it was part of a vast and wondrous world with unnumbered marvels and unimaginable delights. But that was long ago, before the Shattering, and now the seas pour away in the darkness beyond the horizon and the people of Arcem are only a remnant of what was once great.

For most natives, this is thing for philosophical regret. Most are too busy living their lives to concern themselves with the disasters of a thousand years ago. Do their nations not thrive in the present day? The technological marvels of the Bright Republic, the magnificent poetry of Vissio, the grand architecture of Patria and the timeless culture of Dulimbai to the south… are these not wonders enough for any man? The past is good for salvaging, for the ancient ruins have many treasures and wonders, but the present is best for living.

Of course, things could always be better. True, there are stories of disasters in the hinterlands, of strange beasts creeping up from dark places, of curdled magic and vile wonders coming to pass in the cities of men, but there are more important things to concern the rulers than the talk of frightened peasants. What of the endless war between Patria and Dulimbai, or the depredations of the necromantic raiders of Ulstang, or the monstrous collapse of Ancalia and their doubtless-culpable magical experiments? These are the things that the rulers know and can see, and so these are the things that concern them.

Yet the common people see what the great do not yet admit. Things are changing in Arcem, and not for the better. Every year there are more monsters emerging from the shadows, every year there are more inexplicable magical disasters and natural calamities. The celestial engines are running down, and if they collapse, Arcem will fall with them.

For now, the people of Arcem are concerned with their own lives and the troubles Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

The counter beckons, empty seats lined up to infinity.

>This is the place to go if you're just getting started.

>Walk up to the counter, grab a drink. Introduce yourself. Try not to start fights, because it could get ugly.

>If you're starting something more involved--going on your first adventure, following a group of friends into a warzone, something like that--then go ahead and make your own thread.

Buildings tower over you--to a point. Most of the closer ones are so worn down that you'd be scared if they were more than a few stories high.

In the alleys, you can see slumbering equine forms, some curled around bottles, others wrapped in blankets. They're all kinds; ponies, donkeys, a couple of exotic deer and gazelles.

Up ahead, you can see the train tracks; you're on the wrong side of them.

>Enter this area by leaving the Bar while thinking of Canterlot (Modern).

At the top of the stairwell, an unbelievable hallway greets you.

Unending, a straight line as far as the horizon lets you see--lined with doors upon doors upon doors, no doubt leading to a motley collection of bedrooms, broom closets, bathrooms, and other such comforts.

This place, much like the Bar below it, defies reality; and much like the Bar, it feels like you might meet anything up here.

>This place serves two purposes.

>First, it serves its most obvious purpose--characters can come here to sleep (alone or with company), to meet in private, to clean themselves up and pretend to be normal for a little bit.

>Second, it serves an OOC purpose--this is an ideal place to post your contact information, in the event that you want to chat with someone else in Skype or Tox or some other chat program.

>This place is reached via a staircase within the Counter area.

Stepping out of the door, Joshua takes a deep breath and smiles. The stench of death and decay fills the air, and the sound of distant gunfire and the sight of smoke gives him a thrill.

"Welcome to New York City. Well, what's left of it anyway." He says with an awful cackle.

"Most of the humans here have already met their end, by my claws if they were lucky, by the horde if they weren't. He says giggling.

"Let's go find some survivors."

The door opens and drops you off in a truly fantastic landscape. Above, a large yellow sun hangs in the sky, though it doesn't feel like it is heating up the air at all. Down, near the end of the horizon hangs a smaller blue one, where it is just carrying on that last bright light before it hits the horizon.

Your immediate surroundings are thus, a small building behind you that obviously isn't the bar, but rather just the door, behind that is a huge (inland) sea, glittering even bluer than normal water because of the sun.

In front of you there is some kind of fantastic forest, comprised mainly of pines, but with tiny crystal slivers in place of pine needles. Above and far there are spires of some kind of glittering city.

>reached through the door in the Bar while thinking of "Rothra"

Stretching over the roof of the first floor (and appearing on others as well) is a mass of webbing, woven together into some semblance of structure. There are multiple levels, with regular holes to move up or down. The silhouettes of those traveling through are visible from below if on the lowest level.

Within the Webworks are rooms separated by silk curtains, offering privacy and quiet. If one doesnt walk on more than two feet and small, they'd have to crawl here.

Vasnesh is constantly traveling them, weaving more webs and adding more, making things comfortable for those who aren't humanoid. He pays attention to the vibrations running through, and if you call for him, he'll eventually show up.

>accessed through climbing silk ropes hanging from the bottom level, and through any other entrances.

As the door opens, you feel yourself falling--falling through an eternal blackness.

The landing is, thankfully, soft.

When you look out upon the landscape, and the towering castle ahead of you, you realize two things:

One, the hills themselves appear to be made of melded, twisted flesh.

And two, the castle itself is chained to the earth, collared and shackled.

"She must be in there. These places always focus on their victims--she'll be in the throne room, in all likelihood. I only hope she hasn't made the deal..."

So the question is...who are you, and what are you going to do?

>This place is accessed through a door near the Counter.