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08-12-2012, 09:16 PM
Riekahn
March 5th, 2012 at 12:51am
Riekahn moved into the marshlands quietly, though he had trouble
muffling the massive steps. That witch of a god wanted him to serve
the deeds of three dead spirits in this marsh, and he would to get
what he wanted. Then, he would force their bones to rise and serve
him! A fair trade.
One of his back legs sank too far, and he groaned as he jerked it back
up, straining the thick muscle in his haunches. With a grunt of
frustration and irritation, he shook his massive neck and continued,
more careful of where he stepped. Still, his sheer mass and size were
his undoing. He sank at least four inches, even when he stepped on the
more solid ground.
"Spirits!" he called. "I come offering three of you peace in your
afterlife. I will do for each of you three a task." Even though the
sun was high overhead, darkness pervaded the marsh. Vines, thick with
mold, hung heavily on trees. Shadows seemed more... alive.
Random Event
March 5th, 2012 at 11:48am
The undead forms of the Spectral Marsh writhe underneath the water as
you approach. They hear the loud, powerful steps, and feel the cruelty
surrounding heartbeat in your chest. One of them pulls through the
muck to claw weakly at your legs, finding his opponent too strong to
pull in with such atrophied limbs. He shudders back into the slumber,
for easier prey than you.
Your words echo over the waters, but no soul of the dead comes to
greet and accept your offer. The three tasks, as it turns out, were
not the real test after all. The Moon Goddess was hooting with
laughter at your failed attempt to gain an audience. How can you gain
the attention of the dead, Riekahn?
Riekahn
March 5th, 2012 at 3:15pm
Nothing stirred, and a distinct echo of laughter made the stallion's
teeth curl. He would not give his life for these dead spirits, but
perhaps he needed to try a different approach. Often, he had heard
whispers of terrifying tales where the dead lit lanterns to draw the
living into their snares. Perhaps it worked the other way as well.
The great stallion found a solid patch of ground and let his body come
to rest on the ground. He curled his legs beneath his body and
examined the murky surface of the water. In a dark, evil manner, he
lit fires with his breath around his body, a perfect circle. Lines of
scorched earth formed between them, making a ring, a pattern, an
offering.
Fire burning in his crimson eyes, and he began to hum deeply, the
sound resonating in his chest and vibrating in the ground. The flames
flickered and shook in response, dancing, taunting. One with the
shadows, hidden from the cruel brightness of the sun's judgment,
Riekahn called to the spirits of the dead. In that moment, he was
almost glorious, unselfish.
Still, the dark shadow where his heart should have been pulsed and
shifted in his soul, sinking into his very veins and laying on his
mind. This darkness was peaceful. He was at peace. "O'Death..." he
hummed. "When God is gone and the devil takes hold, who'll have mercy
on your soul? O' Death..." The deep tenor of his voice shook his rips,
dancing between the sinews of his mortal flesh.
Random Event
March 5th, 2012 at 3:38pm
The fire shocks and stirs the bodies laying in the murky waters around
you, they writhe in fear and cower from such a thing. You can hear
moans permeating the quiet stillness of the glassy surface, and some
of the corpses float desperately to quieter places in the marsh. One
such a body, however, rises to greet you.
A full grown horse bleached white with time, though with soggy wings,
lacking half of their feathers, lopping off the sides of its back,
motionless and dead. The skeleton is visible, pushing through on the
sides of his rump and clearly visible in his broad chest and legs.
Still, the face, covered in a thin layer of skin, looks at you with
interest. The eyes, long since rotted from his skull, open to empty
sockets, black and foreboding. Along his barrel is a gaping wound, the
cause of his death. Upon his high head is a rusted metal helmet,
traces of royal engravings in the sides. The dead pegasus before you
was a warrior.
He is moved by your strong words and fire, and steps into your circle
of light. The stench of death and old flesh surrounds you, but your
first task is at hand. He had heard your original offer, the offer of
closure. “I cannot sleep without a light,” he says, his black holes
boring into you. “Bring me a light which will not snuff out in the
water.”
How odd that even in death, this massive warrior requires a nightlight
to sleep properly.
Riekahn
March 5th, 2012 at 5:53pm
Riekahn watched as the waters began to stir, crooked, twisted and
desperate faces peeking from the murky waters. One brave soul managed
to surface, soppy water dripping steadily from his body. The white of
his coat was rotted, and bones were visible beneath the moldy skin. A
slime that stunk of decaying flesh and murk reached his nostrils, but
the bones were obviously wrought with gaping wounds.
Feathers, sickly feathers on bony wings hung uselessly at its side,
and Riekahn found the creature to be remarkably pathetic. The once
proud warrior sunken in the earth. Oh how the mighty have fallen, and
he wanted a light in the water. The stallion nodded once, tersely. He
remembered once the pull the light had on him before he shut it out of
his soul.
"I will, warrior," he replied. The mortal stallion looked around where
he sat and grabbed a crystalline rock in his lips. With a grunt, he
opened his mouth and breathed fire over the stone until it glowed
white hot, absorbing the light. When he let up his breath, the stone
remained glowing, and he tested it by pushing it with his hoof into
the water. It fizzled and hissed, but as it dropped, it remained
bright.
He looked up at the dead creature. "May it help you sleep peacefully,"
he said. Until I summon you from your slumber, you fool.
Random Event
March 5th, 2012 at 8:59pm
The warrior watches you as you pick up the rock, thin muscles taut in
confusion as you crunch it in your jaws. He sees the glowing begin to
form in the rock, and becomes intensely interested. A few steps closer
comes the decaying corpse, wings dragging on the thick waters. When
you finally drop the stone below, his hollowed eyes follow it in
anticipation. He is extremely excited to note that the light remains,
though dimmed from its almost blinding state.
The pegasus smiles at you in thanks, rotted teeth greeting you with a
rancid odor. He leans down to clutch the stone between those same
teeth before slinking into the waters, never to appear on the surface
again. His soul will finally be able to get the rest that it deserves.
Watching with curious eyes is another undead, her face barely lifted
above the surface of the waters. After the body of the pegasus warrior
returns to his grave, hers rises. The body is less aged, most of the
flesh still intact. Her color is lightened, though it is obvious that
at one time she had held the color of a bright red chestnut. From her
forehead protrudes a proud bone of snow white - one of your kind. Her
body is weak, more emaciated than lithe, but at one point in time, you
could see her being potentially beautiful. Her eyes, still in her
skull, are clouded, the sclera a vile tint of green.
She stares at you for a moment before her mouth opens, a voice barely
audible, even in the silence of the marshes. “Water,” she calls, a
look of desperation on her features. “Please, bring the freshest water
to drink. I am so, so thirsty.”
Riekahn
March 7th, 2012 at 8:38pm
Riekahn nodded as the warrior retreated into the murk. Soon, his form
was replaced by a putrefied female. She had more skin and her eyes
were intact, covered in a grotesque green film. He wondered why she
had died so young. When she asked for water, the stallion wanted to
grumble in complaint. Instead, he pushed his massive body from the
ground and nodded to her. "I will return," he replied, walking to the
edge of the marsh.
A small brook bubbled nearby, and he drank himself before looked
around, thinking of how to contain the water. Then, he found a scooped
out rock and lifted it with his teeth. He dipped it in the fresh water
and brought it back into the marsh. Carefully, he lowered the water on
the bank next to the rotted mare. "If you require more, I will bring
more," he replied stoically.
Random Event
March 8th, 2012 at 4:03pm
The fallen unicorn stands still, her body motionless like the death
she seeks. Her eyes watch your dark form move to the edge of the swamp
and disappear from her impaired vision. Patiently, she waits, hopeful
that you will be able to ease the dryness in her throat that had been
present since before her untimely death. Her green eyes catch the
movement of your body faintly upon your return, and she smiles, the
thin skin creasing gruesomely, as you offer her the water she
requested.
She gulps the fresh liquid, her eyes dimming as the water fills her
dead body, but she does not seem to hear your offer to go for more.
Instead, her voice, now strengthened by the moisture in her previously
parched throat, is a booming sound of prideful femininity. “Thank you,
Riekahn of the Shadows,” she says, her body collapsing into the water
below, seemingly to disappear from your eyes. You might realize that
you had not given your name.
The dead know you, stallion, and know of your previously horrible
deeds. They are written in the movements of your body and the darkness
in your heart.
A third figure begins to rise, a towering body. This one is not
decorated with a horn nor wings, but is the final species of this land
- and equine. His impressive stature is bigger than the previous two,
his water bloated form taller than even you. His form is also the most
intact, his eyes still very clear, though the irises have long since
gained a white cloud. His color is obvious, a buckskin stallion, thick
broad stripping. There are also markings upon his frame that are
unfamiliar, not the natural markings of a horse. These are black
markings of a narrative sort. Primitive brushstrokes telling a tale
you do not know sweep across his barrel, a story that tells of nature.
“Your tasks thus far have been simple,” he says, his voice
surprisingly quiet despite his large frame. “Your next one will not be
as such.” The mysterious equine looks at you, his black mane pooled in
dreadlocked mats on his face and neck. There seem to be objects
twisted in those locks, though you cannot quite figure what they might
be. “You have shown ingenuity and compassion for the fallen, but you
have not yet proved that you possess other skills that would make you
fit to be a leader of such an army.” A smile breaks on his face,
revealing pristine white teeth, unlike the rotted smiles that met you
before.
“I require the red sap of the Dragon’s Blood in order to complete my
transition to the other side,” he says. “The herd is typically
protective of the tree, so you may have to rely on stealth or your
ability to sway your company to your favor through words. Brute force
is also an option.” The corpse looks at you with a tilted head. “These
will tell us what type of leader you will make, stallion. Do not
return without the sap.” With that, the corpse sinks back into the
swamp, leaving your fire circle void of any movement.
March 5th, 2012 at 12:51am
Riekahn moved into the marshlands quietly, though he had trouble
muffling the massive steps. That witch of a god wanted him to serve
the deeds of three dead spirits in this marsh, and he would to get
what he wanted. Then, he would force their bones to rise and serve
him! A fair trade.
One of his back legs sank too far, and he groaned as he jerked it back
up, straining the thick muscle in his haunches. With a grunt of
frustration and irritation, he shook his massive neck and continued,
more careful of where he stepped. Still, his sheer mass and size were
his undoing. He sank at least four inches, even when he stepped on the
more solid ground.
"Spirits!" he called. "I come offering three of you peace in your
afterlife. I will do for each of you three a task." Even though the
sun was high overhead, darkness pervaded the marsh. Vines, thick with
mold, hung heavily on trees. Shadows seemed more... alive.
Random Event
March 5th, 2012 at 11:48am
The undead forms of the Spectral Marsh writhe underneath the water as
you approach. They hear the loud, powerful steps, and feel the cruelty
surrounding heartbeat in your chest. One of them pulls through the
muck to claw weakly at your legs, finding his opponent too strong to
pull in with such atrophied limbs. He shudders back into the slumber,
for easier prey than you.
Your words echo over the waters, but no soul of the dead comes to
greet and accept your offer. The three tasks, as it turns out, were
not the real test after all. The Moon Goddess was hooting with
laughter at your failed attempt to gain an audience. How can you gain
the attention of the dead, Riekahn?
Riekahn
March 5th, 2012 at 3:15pm
Nothing stirred, and a distinct echo of laughter made the stallion's
teeth curl. He would not give his life for these dead spirits, but
perhaps he needed to try a different approach. Often, he had heard
whispers of terrifying tales where the dead lit lanterns to draw the
living into their snares. Perhaps it worked the other way as well.
The great stallion found a solid patch of ground and let his body come
to rest on the ground. He curled his legs beneath his body and
examined the murky surface of the water. In a dark, evil manner, he
lit fires with his breath around his body, a perfect circle. Lines of
scorched earth formed between them, making a ring, a pattern, an
offering.
Fire burning in his crimson eyes, and he began to hum deeply, the
sound resonating in his chest and vibrating in the ground. The flames
flickered and shook in response, dancing, taunting. One with the
shadows, hidden from the cruel brightness of the sun's judgment,
Riekahn called to the spirits of the dead. In that moment, he was
almost glorious, unselfish.
Still, the dark shadow where his heart should have been pulsed and
shifted in his soul, sinking into his very veins and laying on his
mind. This darkness was peaceful. He was at peace. "O'Death..." he
hummed. "When God is gone and the devil takes hold, who'll have mercy
on your soul? O' Death..." The deep tenor of his voice shook his rips,
dancing between the sinews of his mortal flesh.
Random Event
March 5th, 2012 at 3:38pm
The fire shocks and stirs the bodies laying in the murky waters around
you, they writhe in fear and cower from such a thing. You can hear
moans permeating the quiet stillness of the glassy surface, and some
of the corpses float desperately to quieter places in the marsh. One
such a body, however, rises to greet you.
A full grown horse bleached white with time, though with soggy wings,
lacking half of their feathers, lopping off the sides of its back,
motionless and dead. The skeleton is visible, pushing through on the
sides of his rump and clearly visible in his broad chest and legs.
Still, the face, covered in a thin layer of skin, looks at you with
interest. The eyes, long since rotted from his skull, open to empty
sockets, black and foreboding. Along his barrel is a gaping wound, the
cause of his death. Upon his high head is a rusted metal helmet,
traces of royal engravings in the sides. The dead pegasus before you
was a warrior.
He is moved by your strong words and fire, and steps into your circle
of light. The stench of death and old flesh surrounds you, but your
first task is at hand. He had heard your original offer, the offer of
closure. “I cannot sleep without a light,” he says, his black holes
boring into you. “Bring me a light which will not snuff out in the
water.”
How odd that even in death, this massive warrior requires a nightlight
to sleep properly.
Riekahn
March 5th, 2012 at 5:53pm
Riekahn watched as the waters began to stir, crooked, twisted and
desperate faces peeking from the murky waters. One brave soul managed
to surface, soppy water dripping steadily from his body. The white of
his coat was rotted, and bones were visible beneath the moldy skin. A
slime that stunk of decaying flesh and murk reached his nostrils, but
the bones were obviously wrought with gaping wounds.
Feathers, sickly feathers on bony wings hung uselessly at its side,
and Riekahn found the creature to be remarkably pathetic. The once
proud warrior sunken in the earth. Oh how the mighty have fallen, and
he wanted a light in the water. The stallion nodded once, tersely. He
remembered once the pull the light had on him before he shut it out of
his soul.
"I will, warrior," he replied. The mortal stallion looked around where
he sat and grabbed a crystalline rock in his lips. With a grunt, he
opened his mouth and breathed fire over the stone until it glowed
white hot, absorbing the light. When he let up his breath, the stone
remained glowing, and he tested it by pushing it with his hoof into
the water. It fizzled and hissed, but as it dropped, it remained
bright.
He looked up at the dead creature. "May it help you sleep peacefully,"
he said. Until I summon you from your slumber, you fool.
Random Event
March 5th, 2012 at 8:59pm
The warrior watches you as you pick up the rock, thin muscles taut in
confusion as you crunch it in your jaws. He sees the glowing begin to
form in the rock, and becomes intensely interested. A few steps closer
comes the decaying corpse, wings dragging on the thick waters. When
you finally drop the stone below, his hollowed eyes follow it in
anticipation. He is extremely excited to note that the light remains,
though dimmed from its almost blinding state.
The pegasus smiles at you in thanks, rotted teeth greeting you with a
rancid odor. He leans down to clutch the stone between those same
teeth before slinking into the waters, never to appear on the surface
again. His soul will finally be able to get the rest that it deserves.
Watching with curious eyes is another undead, her face barely lifted
above the surface of the waters. After the body of the pegasus warrior
returns to his grave, hers rises. The body is less aged, most of the
flesh still intact. Her color is lightened, though it is obvious that
at one time she had held the color of a bright red chestnut. From her
forehead protrudes a proud bone of snow white - one of your kind. Her
body is weak, more emaciated than lithe, but at one point in time, you
could see her being potentially beautiful. Her eyes, still in her
skull, are clouded, the sclera a vile tint of green.
She stares at you for a moment before her mouth opens, a voice barely
audible, even in the silence of the marshes. “Water,” she calls, a
look of desperation on her features. “Please, bring the freshest water
to drink. I am so, so thirsty.”
Riekahn
March 7th, 2012 at 8:38pm
Riekahn nodded as the warrior retreated into the murk. Soon, his form
was replaced by a putrefied female. She had more skin and her eyes
were intact, covered in a grotesque green film. He wondered why she
had died so young. When she asked for water, the stallion wanted to
grumble in complaint. Instead, he pushed his massive body from the
ground and nodded to her. "I will return," he replied, walking to the
edge of the marsh.
A small brook bubbled nearby, and he drank himself before looked
around, thinking of how to contain the water. Then, he found a scooped
out rock and lifted it with his teeth. He dipped it in the fresh water
and brought it back into the marsh. Carefully, he lowered the water on
the bank next to the rotted mare. "If you require more, I will bring
more," he replied stoically.
Random Event
March 8th, 2012 at 4:03pm
The fallen unicorn stands still, her body motionless like the death
she seeks. Her eyes watch your dark form move to the edge of the swamp
and disappear from her impaired vision. Patiently, she waits, hopeful
that you will be able to ease the dryness in her throat that had been
present since before her untimely death. Her green eyes catch the
movement of your body faintly upon your return, and she smiles, the
thin skin creasing gruesomely, as you offer her the water she
requested.
She gulps the fresh liquid, her eyes dimming as the water fills her
dead body, but she does not seem to hear your offer to go for more.
Instead, her voice, now strengthened by the moisture in her previously
parched throat, is a booming sound of prideful femininity. “Thank you,
Riekahn of the Shadows,” she says, her body collapsing into the water
below, seemingly to disappear from your eyes. You might realize that
you had not given your name.
The dead know you, stallion, and know of your previously horrible
deeds. They are written in the movements of your body and the darkness
in your heart.
A third figure begins to rise, a towering body. This one is not
decorated with a horn nor wings, but is the final species of this land
- and equine. His impressive stature is bigger than the previous two,
his water bloated form taller than even you. His form is also the most
intact, his eyes still very clear, though the irises have long since
gained a white cloud. His color is obvious, a buckskin stallion, thick
broad stripping. There are also markings upon his frame that are
unfamiliar, not the natural markings of a horse. These are black
markings of a narrative sort. Primitive brushstrokes telling a tale
you do not know sweep across his barrel, a story that tells of nature.
“Your tasks thus far have been simple,” he says, his voice
surprisingly quiet despite his large frame. “Your next one will not be
as such.” The mysterious equine looks at you, his black mane pooled in
dreadlocked mats on his face and neck. There seem to be objects
twisted in those locks, though you cannot quite figure what they might
be. “You have shown ingenuity and compassion for the fallen, but you
have not yet proved that you possess other skills that would make you
fit to be a leader of such an army.” A smile breaks on his face,
revealing pristine white teeth, unlike the rotted smiles that met you
before.
“I require the red sap of the Dragon’s Blood in order to complete my
transition to the other side,” he says. “The herd is typically
protective of the tree, so you may have to rely on stealth or your
ability to sway your company to your favor through words. Brute force
is also an option.” The corpse looks at you with a tilted head. “These
will tell us what type of leader you will make, stallion. Do not
return without the sap.” With that, the corpse sinks back into the
swamp, leaving your fire circle void of any movement.
