Friday, March 12, 2010
Locales of Riskail: The White Ziggurat
Radiant and immersed in a shimmering, swirling miasma of brilliance that fluctuates along the entire spectrum of light from the deep wavelengths below infrared and microwaves, up through all the intervening phases and frequencies to the heights of ultraviolet, x-rays and beyond. Thankfully the builders of the White Ziggurat saw fit to establish a series of hyper-luminous pylons around the perimeter that somehow contain the most damaging of the radiations emanating from this blazing structure.
The White Ziggurat is directly and inextricably bound-up with the Overlight, a vast hyper-luminous region of existence that overarches manifest reality. It is a realm of living colors, a zone of transcendent meta-consciousnesses, where feral geometries pirouette outside of time and fractal forms flit about the edges of quicksilver streams and trickles that are the visible traces of time's passage within this plenary zone few incarnate beings dare to explore first-hand.
But for a place so shrouded in the cascading lightnings of primeval creation itself, surrounded by every expression of color, light and vibration both known and beyond mortal understanding, the White Ziggurat is entirely silent. No sound escapes the place whatsoever.
Perhaps this is for the best as just looking upon the White Ziggurat long enough or closely enough will blur one's vision across three other senses, none of which anyone save the Ochemru have any meaningful conceptual framework to describe, let alone process in any practical manner.
According to the sworn testimony of Arsile of Jadank, one of three sorcerers daft enough to cross the aureate threshold of the White Ziggurat in order to seek an attunement to the structure and thus (theoretically) gain some arbitrary power over the various and sundry components of the meta-spectrum, upon entering the gopura or area immediately just past the Luminous Pylons, his consciousness seemed to accelerate increasingly fast with each step he took closer to the White Ziggurat until, after his companions' brains exploded into delicate crimson mist, he turned back and barely escaped their grisly fates. Arsile withdrew from the world, became an anchorite in some undisclosed desert and blinded himself that he might never behold such a terrible, magnificent radiance ever again.