the Rift


I will not fear the dark [Open]

Aryel Posts: 229
Dragon's Throat Soldier
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.4 :: 4
FennecFyre
#1



Aryel had spent long hours in the desert training her body, kicking dry trees until the bark was cracked, stretching every muscle in an attempt to discover her strength and flexibility limits. She had trained her body, but had no idea how to train her mind, until she saw the marsh stretching before her as she flew one day. A blanket of fog had hung over the marsh, obscuring it from aerial view. Intrigued, she had descended, skimming over the treetops. Suddenly, something had screamed in the underbrush far below, prompting the spooked pegasus to wheel away in fright.

Today, she had returned to do more than fly over the trees. If she was going to be a proper soldier, she needed to stop jumping at shadows.

Coming to the marsh to desensitize herself to fear had seemed like a good idea at first, but now she was starting to wonder if it was a foolish idea instead. Several slips into seemingly-shallow mud had left her coat with gunk almost to her knees, sweat streaked her neck and sides, and the mosquitoes were unbearable. More than one log had opened it's eyes and become an alligator as she passed (not that she wanted to get close to the stagnant water anyway) and she had seen the bloated, half-eaten rotting carcass of some unfortunate ungulate laying in the water once. Strange calls drifted through the thin, pale trees, and she had heard faint whispering every now and then, including a malicious chuckle that she still wasn't sure she had imagined. She had managed not to bolt during her walk into the marsh, but every muscle in her body was tensed with the effort, and she had to force herself to take each step forward. This swamp redefined creepy. But was most unsettling was the slowly-darkening sky, the too-close-together branches that would make it almost impossible to simply fly away, and the sinking suspicion that she was hopelessly lost.

The mare stopped, cursing herself for her stupidity. She hadn't even planned on how to get back out. Why couldn't she ever think things through? She cast a doubtful look back at her path, already unable to discern which trail was safe and which was dangerous, sucking quicksand and mud. With a sigh, she looked up at the sky, barely visible through the branches above her. She couldn't fly away. Should she keep walking, risking being sucked into the stinking mud, or stay here? "Wish I had never even come here." she muttered, shifting indecisively.

Walk walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk talk."

ARYEL</style>
In blood and honor, we will prevail.</style>

image by gpabill @ flickr.com
Thanks for the good times, and no hard feelings for the bad times.

Vicer and Aryel's new threads never happened.


NPC Posts: 298
User-based Random Event
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#2

H A H A H A H A



There are monsters in the swamp, more monsters than simple alligators; much more malicious, devious, crazed creatures, blood-drinkers and haunting beasts, things that stalk and things that crawl, and it's a simple matter of what you draw when you walk into the maze, for not one horse walks alone within for long.

The mare, of course, is not aware of it, but there were two things watching her; pale specters and centipedes and spiders, thousands upon thousands, but it all depends on which way she turns.

Left or right, which will she choose? All that can be heard are haunting laughs and the clicking sounds of pincers ahead of her, and darkness closes in behind. Two choices, two choices of death or life, two choices of terror.

[Not sure if this has to be over 250]




Aryel Posts: 229
Dragon's Throat Soldier
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.4 :: 4
FennecFyre
#3



The growing sense of panic within her was rapidly becoming near-impossible to fight down. She may have been sentient, but she was still a prey animal, and one of the strongest instincts she possessed was to flee. Her blue eyes cast about the swamp, ears swiveling one way to catch a hint of distant speech, then quickly turning again as something clicked and chittered. Something moved underhoof, causing her to dance and snort, clamping her jaws together to avoid crying out. For some reason, she was afraid to make a sound in the marsh, afraid to add her own timid voice to the cacophony of calls and shrieks in the underbrush. She almost worried it would alert something to her presence. From someone else's point of view, someone who was aware of the creatures that already watched her, it was almost laughable.

She cast a doubtful look backwards at the dark woods behind her. No way she could pick her way through that again. Was the worst of the bog behind her? Wishful thinking, she thought with a grimace before looking at the divergent path (at least she hoped it was a path and not a patch of quicksand) before her. Something chittered again, and she jumped. Was that some sort of bug? What kind of insect even sounded like that? Aryel hated venomous insects. Hated them with a passion. Bees could leave her paralyzed in terror, and spiders skittered on the ground sent her skittering in the opposite direction. She did that now, taking the path that seemed farthest from the creepy bug sounds in a tentative walk, her hoofbeats too conspicuous in her mind. She wanted nothing more than to break into a gallop and run blindly, fully surrendering to the animal terror that threatened to overwhelm her. She resisted. Just barely. If she lost control here, it would be almost certain death.

Even as she walked away from the animal noises, the chilling whispers and laughs that hung in the back of her mind plagued her. Once or twice she thought she saw something pale flitting through the trees in the distance, and shadows seemed to hang in the corners of her vision, moving and twisting out to reach her until she turned her head to look directly at the spot. Was she just imagining things, or was this place really...

No. There was no such things as ghosts. No such thing, no such thing, she repeated in her mind, trying to block out the noises. For a moment, her posture resumed it's usual cocky carriage, but then a bubble of swamp gas burped quietly in a nearby pool and she flinched again. Was she even going the right way? The swamp couldn't last forever...right?

(The clicking pincers you mentioned sort of remind me of the chaurus from Skyrim :p

Got insectophobia?)

Walk walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk talk."

ARYEL</style>
In blood and honor, we will prevail.</style>

image by gpabill @ flickr.com
Thanks for the good times, and no hard feelings for the bad times.

Vicer and Aryel's new threads never happened.


NPC Posts: 298
User-based Random Event
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#4

H A H A H A H A



The bugs sighed in disappointment as the presence they sensed drifted away, away from their many scuttling legs and clicking pincers, hard bodies and flexible skeletons, their drifting antannae and their laughter. They surged together into a smooth, uniform body, and scuttled into the murkish waters, disappearing swiftly under the drifting tendrils of fog and the brown, sluggish water.

But for other creatures, or rather spirits, this was a good thing. The pale forms flickered around her vision, wary wraiths, yet intrigued by the pegasus mare who walked in their midst. They were translucent, pearly, and untouchable ghosts, although if you were to walk through one they would be freezing cold; and some more indistinct than others, and a few fading away, depending on how long they had been walking this lonely world. None are courageous enough to brave the warmth of the living; except for three.

One is a pony, short, stout and appearing the most solid; shaggy-maned with a horn thick and not long in length. He appears walking over the water towards the mare. The second is a pegasus, tall and slender and feminine, very pale and hardly visible, with a wildly feathered mane and tail. Third is a hungry-looking stallion, thickly built like a tank, without any adornments.

Together, in unison, they say: "Who are you?" And then each say something in turn.

The Unicorn: "I will tell your fortune."

The Pegasus: "I will give you a gift."

The Horse: "I will haunt you."

Together: "Choose two of us or one; or all three. Give us something in return, because we won't give out for free."

[We can incorporate your blue fire gift if you like :3 ]



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Aryel Posts: 229
Dragon's Throat Soldier
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.4 :: 4
FennecFyre
#5



The flits of shadow and mist were becoming clearer now, bolder. Recognizable shapes took form in the corners of her vision. Aryel gulped as she picked out a head, hooves, pale white sightless eyes staring at her for a heartbeat before melting away into the indistinct fog again. Speaking of the fog, it was growing thicker, the failing light helping to reduce her vision. She stopped, looking in nervously. She was lost, there was no denying it now. Oh, wonderful, now I'm gonna die in he-

What was that?


As she watched in dread, three shapes materialized out of the gloom, holding their forms instead of melting away like the others. A unicorn, a pegasus, and an equine.

Ghosts. They were real ghosts.

Aryel had never given much thought to ghosts before, but now, standing in an undeniably haunted swamp facing three specters, she was forced to accept that they really did exist. She nearly bolted in terror, but the remaining spark of logic in her mind prevented her from doing so. Hadn't she come here to be frightened? Hadn't she come here to test herself? Facing down three ghosts would just be another test. She took a breath, willed her knees to stop knocking, and waited for the ghosts to approach. Their three echoing voices in unison startled her, causing her to stutter for a moment before replying. "Aryel," she said, then fell silent again as the ghosts spoke one after the other.

A fortune, a gift, or a haunting. This was certainly turning interesting.

She stood for a moment, mulling their words over. Still overwhelmed, she needed a way to stall for a few minutes until she could gather her thoughts. "May I ask a few questions first?" she asked as they demanded something in return for their actions. She took them all in as she asked her first question. "I-if I do decide to ask for something, what could I give in return?" She regretted not bringing along one of her three amulets, for fear it would be lost if she took a slip into the muck. Her next question was directed at the equine in particular. "And why would I want to be haunted?" She dared a bit of cheek. "I think there's a trick to your words."

(Well, Aryel is getting her magic in another thread, so if you planned that for a gift, we might need to think of something else. She's also getting a small item, a feather, and silver markings on her wings, but I was originally going to do those without a thread. Maybe the markings could be the gift? Or, I could just not have her ask for it. Anything works for me.)

Walk walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk talk."

ARYEL</style>
In blood and honor, we will prevail.</style>

image by gpabill @ flickr.com
Thanks for the good times, and no hard feelings for the bad times.

Vicer and Aryel's new threads never happened.

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