#the house of the iron grate (oldwood)

[milfronin]

Finished up a little thing today. Developing some of the other houses in Oldwood, finally. The rest is beneath the cut if you'd like to give it a read.

For what they lack in a sense of style, much to the chagrin of certain serpents, they more than make up for in efficiency, strength, and notably intimidation. The hulking form of the arbiter of the house leading you along is certainly doing work to maintain that reputation. 

Her massive spiraling horns are assuredly not just for show. It's doubtless that the various nicks and chips in them are from various duels, all of them won with sheer strength. No medals or trophies are needed to show her valor, as they are all carried with her, displayed proudly on a rack. 

The scabbards for her immense cleavers clank together as she walks, her hooves clicking against the floor in time. An odd manner of cognitive dissonance is invoked with how notorious the House of the Iron Grate is for having a heavily-armored militia, in contrast with just how little armor the Arbiter of the House wears. The studded gloves and knee-length trousers with nothing else are an interesting choice, but she's quite famed to be indestructible, so truly things seem to be working well for her.

She turns her head to you as you walk with her, the thick wool obscuring her eyes, but her piercing gaze still chilling your blood even further.

"You must be sure you are strong. This house meets force with force. This means you must be forceful."

It is unclear if she intended to insult you, but nonetheless, her words ring in your mind. You must be forceful. To be forceful is an endeavor many strive for, but never truly manage to grasp. They have misguided notions of what force is, what it truly means, but they never can bear to strike their hammer down on the anvil of fate. 

The people who are after you would not know how to be forceful. Your decision to align yourself with one of the Houses was one that took much time to mull over, but ultimately, the decision was fated to be. The House of the Iron Grate was the only House who would have you.

The Surgeon's sickening experiments were not something you wanted to be near. The insidious control of the Punisher of Love was too... Cowardly, for your taste. The Five Deaths are far too untrustworthy. The Tragic Poet's estate kept you away from it, the rumors surrounding its fluid nature disconcerting to say the least. And the Colored Capitols... You've heard the stories about the people who entered that accursed painting to never be seen again.

So, you took your fate with force. You will know what it means to be forceful.

The ram stops before the heavy iron door, placing her hooved hand upon it as she addresses you.

"You will not speak. Be silent. I speak with the grate first, as Arbiter of this house. The sentinels will supervise your induction, as well as I. The grate will speak to you. You will not respond to it. If you do, your induction will be voided. You do not want to discover the results of a voided induction."

You silently nod. You dare not even respond to that. You need this opportunity, you need the protection that a House membership grants, the skill that you will learn. You need a cause. 

Watching you give the affirmative, the ram opens the door, leading you into the chamber of the Iron Grate.

You enter a small, low-roofed stone room. In the center of the floor, there is an iron grate above a hole in the ground. There are ladder rungs affixed into the side of the hole, descending down into it. The grate is intricate, the iron bars of it flowing around the circular frame. 

In each corner of the room stands an armored figure, all carrying different weapons, with different suits of armor. One of them is immense, broad, standing with an enormous sword and shield. Another's is different, leather accents, but still equally armored, with a mammoth warhammer. The third, lighter, with more flexibility, a halberd taller than them in hand. The last, in robes, with plates affixed in various places. A sleek Iron staff sits in their grasp. 

All of their visored gazes affix on you. You cannot see any of their eyes, but their gazes pierce you, boring into your soul with the same depth of the very hole before you. The chill that permeates your body is unlike any you've ever felt before. 

The heavy door slams shut behind you. You know, logically, that it's still unlocked. If you had to, you could leave at any time. But you can't escape the feeling of being locked in. It pervades you, suffocates you, you're trapped in here with these armored sentinels, with the arbiter of this House, and with the founder of the House itself. And it's all on you for locking yourself in here with it.

You watch as the ram steps forward, standing atop the grate. She speaks aloud, her typically soft voice being amplified by the acoustics of this room, causing it to resound throughout your entire body.

"I bring, to you, a supplicant. Someone who wishes to know the force that exact. Someone who desires the strength we can give. Someone who will kneel to you, and will not disobey you, for this supplicant knows that all who are forced to descend will never return. To dare devote to you, requires a will of iron."

She steps forward, turning herself around to look at you, gesturing to the grate.

"Approach, iron-willed, to receive the blessing of the Iron Grate, to let your soul be washed in its cold breath, and to feel the bars of it and vow to never see what lies beneath."

You step forward, doing as you are told. You stand atop the Iron Grate, feeling the frigid draft of air rising out of it wash over your body. It is cold like you have never felt, burrowing underneath your skin, seeping into your bones, digging its claws into the center of your being.

The ram reaches forward, placing her hand atop your head. She presses it down, angling your gaze to be staring into the deep, unceasing abyss beneath the Iron Grate. You feel your stomach drop, the depth of it being utterly incalculable. You had heard the hushed tales of how traitors to the house had been hunted down ruthlessly, and dragged right back here, and forced to descend down the ladder, never to be seen by another soul. 

"Cast every doubt you have down. Slip it through the gaps in the bars, let it fall, endlessly, down into the abyss beneath the Grate. Your doubt will never be seen again. What will remain is strength. Force. Do it."

You steel yourself. You tense your muscles, thinking of every doubt, every regret, every fear, every reason you came to this house in the first place, letting them build, coalesce, fill up inside you. Then, you release, the tension in your body draining. You fall to your knees, palms against the bars of the Grate, gripping onto them. The abyss below you is ever closer, now, almost trying to pull you through the bars, pull you down below.

But all that remains is strength. You have done what you have been told. As you gaze down into the abyss, you finally hear it. The Grate. It speaks to you.

But you do not hear it. You can tell it has spoken, you heard it speak, but it only existed in your mind, fleetingly. It is gone. It spoke the words to you, but its voice is not present, you cannot even  begin to think of what it sounded like. All you remember is what it said.

"Drink of Iron, and it shall be you."

You turn your gaze up. The ram holds a small vial in her hands, the cork removed. The vial is full of a writhing, silvery liquid, squirming as if it were alive. She lowers herself to one knee, grabbing your face with her other hand. Her thumb slips into your mouth, pulling it open as she raises the vial to your lips.

You cannot stop her. You shan't, it is what the Iron Grate ordered of you, but you simply sit there, clinging to the bars of the grate as the liquid is poured into your mouth, the woman holding your jaw agape to be sure you imbibe every last drop.

The liquid tastes cold. Any actual taste it has is obscured by unceasing chill as it slithers its way down your throat, settling in the pit of your stomach, filling your body with a frigid shudder, before it vanishes, and you are left with the now tame chill of the Grate beneath you.

The ram rises, pulling her thumb out of your mouth as she offers that hand to you, helping you to your feet. Your knees wobble and bow, your constitution not having returned to you fully, but the ram has an air of appreciation to her now. It almost seems like she's proud of you.

"You are one of us. You are iron." She takes your hand in both of hers, giving a sharp nod. 

"I am Heide. May you never know what lies beneath the Grate."

[gundamlfrith-remade]

hi marnie my dear mutual marnie do youwant to tell me what oldwood is. smiles

[STARTS SHAKING AND FROTHING AT THE MOUTH] hi :+) hi :+) hi :+) Hi Lenna my friend my good mutual hi :+) [Metaphorically cocking my fist back]

Oldwood is my current ongoing worldbuilding project (that I eventually plan on making into a game) in which there is a vast, deep basin in an unfamiliar land, and in that basin, there is a forest of enormous, monumental trees, trunks wider than train cars and taller than skyscrapers, known as the Forest of Drowned Joys. Within the forest are those who live there, the many people-folk and beast-folk who, untold centuries ago, were cast into it by their god in a fit of its rage. They continued to live, despite their god's newfound silence, and decided to survive, to learn to coexist with the forest around them.

Over time, the people who resided within discovered remnants of their god's tantrum that created the grand forest, taking shape in the form of powerful, unfamiliar magics. Magics of metal, color, death, ink, blood, and love. Certain beings found themselves to be particularly adept in the wielding of this magic, utilizing their own will and the help of people who would listen to them and follow them to build their houses, their factions. And those people or beings grew to be figureheads, beacons of guidance in these dark, swallowing woods. The houses of the Iron Grate, the Colored Capitals, the Five Skeletons, the Tragic Poet, the Surgeon, and Punished Love, they were solace amidst the forest. Shelter. Comfort, companionship, any number of things that one would desire or need in a forest that tries to get you to lose yourself.

I can elaborate on many things but here's my not-so-elevator pitch :3 I also have a work in progress playlist on spotify for it

[milfronin]

auuhghghguhguh i neeed to FIGURE OUT . the fucking . houses. oldwood. no . like. what am i trying to say here.... WHAT I MEAN IS. i need to properly figure out what the base magics are because each house needs a corresponding one. i just have a couple im like. iffy on yes. yknow

Surgeon = Blood / Fire . Maeks sense rite. the warmth of the blood, fire feeds life, too much of both is a bad thing usually....

Tragic Poet = Ink / Water. Thematic coherence due to the Tragic Poet's estate being so close to a bigass lake. also wat i say down there V

Five Deaths = Death / Ice probably. Chill of death . yknow. I think Ice is different from Water, water is. well weve discussed how superstitious people are about water, water is depth, water is mysteries, a *thirst* for more, to know more... but Ice is about stillness. an End. cold . putting things to rest where they will never move again... does this cohere

Colored Capitols = Color / Lightning . Because like.. lightning blinds, it's so bright, it's FAST, almost an illusion, but it goes so quick and strikes so true . like wasupp with them. also in my mind the landscape in the painting the city is like .. it's sort of romanesque in my mind but i envision it as stormy every time i think about it. also juxtaposition of bright light and shadows due to Iza's whole situation with her epic shadow wife.

Punished Love = Love / Nature ?? Flora maybe as a title. Different from earth in that it's about life specifically, the love given to nurture plantlife and stuff.

Iron Grate = Iron / Earth. Different from Nature because it's about like. The Grouond, what's BELOW and stuff like what we need to hide and where through stress strength is born . that's a thing about the house of the iron grate is its Secrecy, am not sure if ive mentioned it but they're notably more secluded than most of the other houses, the house of the five deaths is probably closest to them right above the colored caps. then tragic poet > surgeon > punished love is always chatting people up and stuff. but yes. okay. sitting down and thinking of it helped

[milfronin]

Hi Swan..... What does oldwood project consist of ?

hiiiiii sorry i've been on mobile all day and im just not going to type out a whole shpiel about this on mobile it sucks to do that.

Oldwood is my little big worldbuilding project consisting of the general premise of "Ages and ages ago, the kingdom of men and the kingdom of beasts were barred from cohorting because the reigning god the Weeper deigned it the natural order, men hunt beasts to sustain themselves, beasts hunt men to keep wit sharp. The weeper one day ceased any indication of being there so the kingdoms ignored its dogma and united, and things prospered. one day the weeper returned and saw this and was enraged by it, and in its fury struck the lands, creating an Enormous basin filled with massive, monolithic trees that swallow the sky, and the kingdoms are exiled into the forest."

[More under here]

The weeper's blow, however, left wells of aspects of its power remaining. these wells were found and discovered and they were adapted in various ways, the six of them, being flesh, love, ink, death, color, and iron. The developments led to the rise of the six houses, the houses of the surgeon, punished love, the tragic poet, the five deaths, the colored capitols, and the iron grate. [the names were derived from the titles given to certain areas of pompeii that were being excavated, i learned them ages ago at an exhibit and it was the foundation for everything.]

now the present is many thousands of years later, life has gone on, and people have learned to live in the forest of drowned joys, society has been basically established, and while the houses are not the Governing Bodies their leaders are incredibly prominent figures and their followers are typically very sworn to them, and the houses hold significant sway.

The house of the Surgeon is led by The Surgeon, a batfolk [of which are incredibly rarely seen in the forest, electing to live within the caves within the walls and beneath the basin that the forest is in] who was the runt of its litter, and always had a dubious fascination with meat, who was one of the people who was originally a part of the very first kingdoms who were actually exiled into the forest. it discovered the well of power of flesh, gaining an utter mastery over it incredibly quickly, using that to sustain itself over the years. it is one of the very, Very few people who remain who witnessed the very beginnings of the forest.

The house of Punished Love is led by the Punisher of Love, an enormous serpentfolk [who are also very rarely seen on account of the notably cool climate in the forest] who was scorned for her birth, left abandoned in the woods. she was taken in by someone else, who did not have any preconceived notions of her birth, who loved her for who she was. after his death she eventually discovered the well of love, her circumstances granting her a quick mastery of it similarly.

The house of the Tragic Poet is led by, as you can probably guess, the Tragic Poet, a large spiderfolk [once again, rarely seen, bugs are less frequently seen in the forest for the same reason as reptilian beastfolk, however they are more common than reptiles.] i'll admit i haven't developed it as much as the others but it would always write poetry, just writing and writing and writing, full to the brim of thought and finding the page its only solace. this naturally gave it easier control over the well of ink, that power granting one the ability to turn words to power.

The other three houses are a little more abstract with the heads of the houses.

The house of the five deaths is lead by five skeletons in coffins, inanimate but still very much alive, capable of communing with one another and with anyone who steps between all of them. Their background and motives are far less well known, all that's really known is that they were five very close knit people before they met their demises upon discovering the well of death, and they gather as many bones as they can.

The house of the Colored Capitols is led by the colored capitols, which are animate statues residing under obelisks in a city in a Much different clime, a sandy, stony town in a desert, all residing within a painting. One must don a veil before entering the painting, as gazing upon the colored capitols with unveiled eyes as one who comes from elsewhere will end you trapped within the painting. The colored capitols bicker between each other a lot about the origins of the painting with which they reside in, [and like everything else,] but it's generally agreed upon the prospect that there was a painter who found the well of color, used it to paint the painting, and was subsequently consumed by their work.

The house of the iron grate is led by the iron grate, or more specifically what resides Inside it. by far the most obscured of any information regarding its origin, there is a grate within a room in the bottom of the estate which is over a hole that leads into the ground. There is a ladder in the hole. If you stand on the grate, you can hear whatever is within whisper to you, if it deigns to. You will not remember what it says, what it sounds like, or anything of the sort, only what it wills. Sometimes, people are sent into the hole beneath the grate, if it is warranted. Those people do not ever return.

feel free to ask any other questions you have i have WAY more stuff this is just sorta the fundamentals ^_^

Here is the playlist for oldwood if you would like to listen to it!!!!!

in short

[milfronin]

am thinking about the eventual commissioning of artwork of the various heads of the houses of oldwood and like it makes sense with the surgeon and the punisher and the poet but like. it's gonna be a bit different with the others considering they are:

A collection of five coffins with a skeleton in each of them

An iron grate over a hole in the ground

A literal painting

At this point i'm just commissioning still lifes if i were to do that. Could i even make a character profile for a painting? not really. but also kind of?