The Realm of Zermai is a Siderealm that was founded and maintained by the will of its founder, Doldolgad Zermai – a monk from the far flung outer planes of existence. He harnessed the guardian demigod Phaemyra to the strength of the blood of the monks he raised as an order (and their strength of belief in her) in the pocket plane. It was said to be a trial in order to get to the great monastery of Zermai – through the 6 Circles of Escalon.
The dwellers of Zermai were said to be keepers of ancient knowledge – ways mystic and deeply hidden. Zermai was said to be far beyond the walls of sleep and consciousness. Only the truly brave and bold could seek its path, it was written. There were many perils, and it was surrounded by the stuff of nightmares, an island of sanity and reason amidst an ocean of torment and confusion.
At first step into the rainbow wrap/bridge area you feel everything – every pain, ache, disease, poison, wound you ever had and feeling you ever felt. Then, like a pole being driven from the top of your head into the earth you stand ramrod straight, pinned by the sharp conscious thought of your own insignificance. There is only you and nothing else. You push forward, seeking some resolution to your feelings. You have the horrible realization that you are alone, truly, you can only know that you yourself are real and verifiable. You feel the world fall out from underneath you and then you lurch as you right yourself, only to shift and fall sideways, seemingly off a ledge that does not exist. You have a sense of horrible vertigo. Then you are supported, and you slide and slide, looping over and around gaining speed. After several moments of terrifying speed you are deposited into an arena, all the lights around you flashing, roughly deposited. As much as you are surprised, the four other creatures you knocked over are just as surprised and terrified as they scramble to the other side of the room.
All diseases and poison are halted, all charms cast aside, all possessions are temporarily let go.
A mist obscures the area briefly, only to reveal you are standing on a mirror. Your reflection seems to be trying to say something and before you can make it out you feel as if you are spun into a million pieces.
Reeling, behind you is an endless curtain of yellow fog, impenetrable with howls of agony emanating from it. Across from it, is a wall of squares 80’ high and very thick – you would guess at least 4 feet thick. All at once a heavy fog materializes above the wall, dropping swiftly to obscure the wall in front of you.. A wall that begins to move and make sounds.
There is a road that constructs itself as you march. Forward and forward, one step after another. Miles and miles pass and all you hear after a while is the sound your feet make as they propel you. Hour after hour, step after step… it could be days, you are not sure, but your mind and body both scream out in pain. You refuse to give in to the strange horizon – you sense an alienness all about you, and the self building road lays brick after brick in silence. The horizon is almost impossible to even contemplate. Nose to the grindstone, you look only at your next step, wondering if the road will fail to appear as you demonstrate ultimate trust in the mechanism carrying you forward… but is it responding to you, are you being herded? Its your last thoughts when you fall asleep while marching…