His boots sent a clink around the room, his torch filled it with light, his sword was ready to empty it, he carefully crept around the catacombs, searching for swag, the air was dank and damp, and carried on it the smell of death, he moved his wrist over his nose, digust an etched look on the man's youthful face.
He arrived at a door and wrestled with the handle until it opened, it's long, deathly creak made him wince, in the room, staring back at him were undead, of varying sizes and decay, two of around six foot, and one slightly under that, the smaller one had obvious remains of a long, thick beard, with a medallion hanging over it, from that he could see that this was a giant dwarf, the contradiction made the his head spin.
Regardless, he charged them, muttering Malachins blessings under his breath as he leaped into them, slashing high, he cut the chest of the dwarf, turning it's insides into outsides, it groaned and moaned, and lunged him. saliva falling like a river from it's mouth, he swung again, this time his blade hit true and the dwarf's head flew off in an arc, landing with a thud one the cold, stone floor, sending dust in the air and into the man's lungs.
In the ensuing coughing fit, the man lowered his guard, the shuffling pair both grabbed him, and began to devour him, sinking their teeth into his neck and throat, the scream he gave was tremendous, he slashed wildly, lopping limbs off in blind desperation.
When they were done the man was on is knees, surrounded with bodyparts, blood was falling in a torrent from his neck where he was bitten, he removed his helmet, his eyes were blurred from the pain, he knew he was dying.
Oliver stumbled around the crypt, he was hungry, he needed food, his legs were failing him, he was nearly blinded by it, he could barely haul the carcass he called himself around, he needed food, and he needed it soon.
He found an open door, he shuffled through, he found him and he ate him, and he felt good after it, he was happy.
Peckish.
Moderator: Gamemasters
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rakust dorenstkzul
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Peckish.
Last edited by rakust dorenstkzul on Sun Nov 30, 2008 2:08 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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rakust dorenstkzul
- Posts: 2303
- Joined: Fri Mar 21, 2008 2:47 pm
- Location: In the heart of every smiling child
The leaves of the forest floor gave off a submissive crunch as he stepped through, his eyes were ahead of him, and his hand was on a little girl's, he wore plain clothing, as did the girl, with a knife on his belt, his confident strides dwarfed the poor girl's, who was trotting seven little trots for everyone of his.
"Are we there yet?" She asked, in a dull monotone voice.
All he did was give her a look, he wasn't amused, she had asked this question 10 times before they even left Bane, and it was starting to grate horribly.
The walking continued for some time, until the sun sank sleepily on the horizon, he had been circling in the woods for hours, looking for something he buried under a rock, he even made a map to it, but he lost that in the water. he placed his hands in his head and sighed deeply, he was saddened by his inability to locate it, he looked to the girl who had folded her arms, and looked positively cross.
"Someone will hand it in! I labelled it Farmer's map! John Farmer's map!" he said this to assure the girl, but it turned into convincing himself against the futility of the search. he was fighting tears back, it was the first windfall of his life, and he lost it through overprotectiveness, why did he have to bury it in the woods? why not in the garden of the Seahorse? why not find a lobsterpot and fling it in the water? Al these failures danced around his head for what seemed an age, when he heard a faint crack of a twig nearby. His hand fumbled for the knife, it was dark now, he couldn't see beyond the girl, and something seemed to be lurching ever closer, he grabbed the girl and placed her behind him, murmuring softly. "Stay here Olivia, lay down and cover yourself with something, I'll be back in a jiffy." he leaned down to her and winked, before stepping into the night.
Oliver shuffled listlessly around the woods, he had caught the scent of something nice, something tender, something young, he had followed it the whole day, it's speed foxing him time and again, but the circling helped him catch it and he was closing in.
Again Oliver found himself starving, it had been about four months since he last fed, but that was a large man, with lots of muscle to savour, that was burning off now, and even with the pick-me-up he had gotten from his ressurector, he still needed a meal. This youngling will prove a tasty morsel.
John groped his knife, he had no idea where his enemy was, what it was, or even if it was an enemy at all! he reassured himself though, that he would jam a knife into whoever, or whatever it was, he took up what one could call a defensive stance as he skulked the grove, hoping that he would find it, before it found him.
The battle was soon on, as Oliver tripped over an exposed root, and by some miracle of Moshran, fell onto Johnthe shock making him drop the knife, losing it to the darkness, before he knew what was happening, he had teeth in his shoulder, he screamed in pain, there was nothing holding back in his roar, it could be heard from the Union to Irmorom's Throne, the teeth moved from his shoulder, to the back of his neck, his pain was unimaginable, his vision was blurred and his head was swimming, but he was conscious enough to feel a hand wrapping itself around the back of his head, lifting it up, and bringing it down onto the hard forest floor, he didn't know anything after that.
It had been a few hours, the girl heard the scream, and knew it was John's, but in her childishness and from all the stories she had heard, that John won, and only got injured doing it, but when the sun broke the gloom of the night, she saw the full grim sight, John was dead, and had been half eaten by an unknown assailant, when she saw the surprised stare still on his face, she began sobing loudly, as only a child can do.
Oliver's nose was leading him again, he knew he had removed the guardian, and he was looking for the youngster again, he had caught onto the scent again when he heard a sobbing coming from near his last meal, if he had lips, he would have been licking them at the thought. Soon after he rediscovered the meal, he found the child, paralysed by fear, a sense of fulfillment gripped him as he sank he teeth into the girl.
Oliver was full to the brim, an adult for starting, and a young child for the main course, he wiped the blood and tears mixture from around his mouth and staggered off, only after walking a few steps he tripped over a small wooden box, half buried in the ground, a gold ring and a few silvers popped out, and for some inexplicable reason, some of his undead bretheren appeared out of seemingly nowhere, Oliver had a fight on his (newly strengthened) hands.
"Are we there yet?" She asked, in a dull monotone voice.
All he did was give her a look, he wasn't amused, she had asked this question 10 times before they even left Bane, and it was starting to grate horribly.
The walking continued for some time, until the sun sank sleepily on the horizon, he had been circling in the woods for hours, looking for something he buried under a rock, he even made a map to it, but he lost that in the water. he placed his hands in his head and sighed deeply, he was saddened by his inability to locate it, he looked to the girl who had folded her arms, and looked positively cross.
"Someone will hand it in! I labelled it Farmer's map! John Farmer's map!" he said this to assure the girl, but it turned into convincing himself against the futility of the search. he was fighting tears back, it was the first windfall of his life, and he lost it through overprotectiveness, why did he have to bury it in the woods? why not in the garden of the Seahorse? why not find a lobsterpot and fling it in the water? Al these failures danced around his head for what seemed an age, when he heard a faint crack of a twig nearby. His hand fumbled for the knife, it was dark now, he couldn't see beyond the girl, and something seemed to be lurching ever closer, he grabbed the girl and placed her behind him, murmuring softly. "Stay here Olivia, lay down and cover yourself with something, I'll be back in a jiffy." he leaned down to her and winked, before stepping into the night.
Oliver shuffled listlessly around the woods, he had caught the scent of something nice, something tender, something young, he had followed it the whole day, it's speed foxing him time and again, but the circling helped him catch it and he was closing in.
Again Oliver found himself starving, it had been about four months since he last fed, but that was a large man, with lots of muscle to savour, that was burning off now, and even with the pick-me-up he had gotten from his ressurector, he still needed a meal. This youngling will prove a tasty morsel.
John groped his knife, he had no idea where his enemy was, what it was, or even if it was an enemy at all! he reassured himself though, that he would jam a knife into whoever, or whatever it was, he took up what one could call a defensive stance as he skulked the grove, hoping that he would find it, before it found him.
The battle was soon on, as Oliver tripped over an exposed root, and by some miracle of Moshran, fell onto Johnthe shock making him drop the knife, losing it to the darkness, before he knew what was happening, he had teeth in his shoulder, he screamed in pain, there was nothing holding back in his roar, it could be heard from the Union to Irmorom's Throne, the teeth moved from his shoulder, to the back of his neck, his pain was unimaginable, his vision was blurred and his head was swimming, but he was conscious enough to feel a hand wrapping itself around the back of his head, lifting it up, and bringing it down onto the hard forest floor, he didn't know anything after that.
It had been a few hours, the girl heard the scream, and knew it was John's, but in her childishness and from all the stories she had heard, that John won, and only got injured doing it, but when the sun broke the gloom of the night, she saw the full grim sight, John was dead, and had been half eaten by an unknown assailant, when she saw the surprised stare still on his face, she began sobing loudly, as only a child can do.
Oliver's nose was leading him again, he knew he had removed the guardian, and he was looking for the youngster again, he had caught onto the scent again when he heard a sobbing coming from near his last meal, if he had lips, he would have been licking them at the thought. Soon after he rediscovered the meal, he found the child, paralysed by fear, a sense of fulfillment gripped him as he sank he teeth into the girl.
Oliver was full to the brim, an adult for starting, and a young child for the main course, he wiped the blood and tears mixture from around his mouth and staggered off, only after walking a few steps he tripped over a small wooden box, half buried in the ground, a gold ring and a few silvers popped out, and for some inexplicable reason, some of his undead bretheren appeared out of seemingly nowhere, Oliver had a fight on his (newly strengthened) hands.
Last edited by rakust dorenstkzul on Thu Jan 22, 2009 4:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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rakust dorenstkzul
- Posts: 2303
- Joined: Fri Mar 21, 2008 2:47 pm
- Location: In the heart of every smiling child
Hunger, he felt, the familiar pangs were driving him the closest thing to mad this zombie had ever known, if he could feel, that was.
The night was pitch black, no moon in the sky, no light to speak of, The regrowing wood was blanketed in darkness, everyone was equal in their blindness. Diamana was out that night, doing whatever it was she did in the woods, lost in her own little world of bunnies, and more specifically, their entrails, Diamama had run out of thread, and needed to make more, prompting her journey out there.
Diamama wasn't what one would call local, her obviously foreign appearance, her mannerisms, her entire form was different from what would be considered normal on the mainland, Her hair was black, it rolled down her foreign looking skin in an exquisite braid, Her eyes, in the sense of colour and brightness, were failures, they were as dark as night, she was muscular, but it was impossible to tell if that was of her own labours, or a trait of her people. If one would look on her, you would think her strange, but you would leave it that.
She pranced around, the rabbits were falling in her snares like flies, one after another, trip the wire, up comes the box, caught.
She'd gotten quite a bunch when out of the wood came a sharp crack, a twig. "No matter" she thought, "Only a deer or something."
and leaned over to pick the trap up, there was a rustle in the bushes, she turned, he saw him, a mass of gouges and slashes, cuts and gashes, head to rotten toe.
He eyes widenened, she was terrified, frozen on the spot like a deer caught in lamplight, he ambled closer, reaching out for her.
She raised her hands in a densive motion, only to have her finger bitten off in return, her sheer shock kept her from screaming, kept her from feeling the pain at all, as the bone cracked in Oliver's mouth, before being swallowed.
She stared at the bloody stump where her finger used to be, in slight amazement, before it sunk in, and she began to scream, but this was shortlived, he sank his teeth into her throat, leaving her gurgling on her own blood.
His hands now held dead weight, unclenching his hands from the woman's arms, he and letting her fall to the ground, falling to his kness next to her, Oliver grasped a small rock from the ground, and brung it down to open her head.
when he was done, Diamama's head was empty, all the precious grey matter removed, and her leg had been chewed off, and she was being dragged off b the other, dragged in the direction of Trollsbane..
The night was pitch black, no moon in the sky, no light to speak of, The regrowing wood was blanketed in darkness, everyone was equal in their blindness. Diamana was out that night, doing whatever it was she did in the woods, lost in her own little world of bunnies, and more specifically, their entrails, Diamama had run out of thread, and needed to make more, prompting her journey out there.
Diamama wasn't what one would call local, her obviously foreign appearance, her mannerisms, her entire form was different from what would be considered normal on the mainland, Her hair was black, it rolled down her foreign looking skin in an exquisite braid, Her eyes, in the sense of colour and brightness, were failures, they were as dark as night, she was muscular, but it was impossible to tell if that was of her own labours, or a trait of her people. If one would look on her, you would think her strange, but you would leave it that.
She pranced around, the rabbits were falling in her snares like flies, one after another, trip the wire, up comes the box, caught.
She'd gotten quite a bunch when out of the wood came a sharp crack, a twig. "No matter" she thought, "Only a deer or something."
and leaned over to pick the trap up, there was a rustle in the bushes, she turned, he saw him, a mass of gouges and slashes, cuts and gashes, head to rotten toe.
He eyes widenened, she was terrified, frozen on the spot like a deer caught in lamplight, he ambled closer, reaching out for her.
She raised her hands in a densive motion, only to have her finger bitten off in return, her sheer shock kept her from screaming, kept her from feeling the pain at all, as the bone cracked in Oliver's mouth, before being swallowed.
She stared at the bloody stump where her finger used to be, in slight amazement, before it sunk in, and she began to scream, but this was shortlived, he sank his teeth into her throat, leaving her gurgling on her own blood.
His hands now held dead weight, unclenching his hands from the woman's arms, he and letting her fall to the ground, falling to his kness next to her, Oliver grasped a small rock from the ground, and brung it down to open her head.
when he was done, Diamama's head was empty, all the precious grey matter removed, and her leg had been chewed off, and she was being dragged off b the other, dragged in the direction of Trollsbane..
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rakust dorenstkzul
- Posts: 2303
- Joined: Fri Mar 21, 2008 2:47 pm
- Location: In the heart of every smiling child
"Alright, in you go!" the guard bellowed, and his hulking frame tossed the wiry thief into the cell. "a couple of weeks, as usual." and he slammed the door shut, leaving the room barely lit only by a rapidly shrinking candle in the corner, with a sigh the man got to his feet and ambled over, taking the candle in his hand, and walking over to the bed he always used.
Halfway there though, he tripped over something on the ground, falling over and extinguishing the candle, he groaned and ave a kick to the fleshy heap. "Damned drunks, now i'll be in the dark until tiny comes in tomorrow." he spoke, party to himself, partly to the world, and he fumbled over to the bed, delivering a kick to the man as he made his way, receiving a groan in return, he set his head on the pillow.
Next morning, when Tiny entered, with some lovely stale bread, and delicious brown water, he shoved the door open "Hey Tim, here's some foo- oh forget that." and caught a sight of Oliver over the pilferer, body torn open, and his head cracked like an egg, and it's contents scooped out.
Quick as a flash, he slammed the door shut and locked it again. "Not my job to get rid of that."
Halfway there though, he tripped over something on the ground, falling over and extinguishing the candle, he groaned and ave a kick to the fleshy heap. "Damned drunks, now i'll be in the dark until tiny comes in tomorrow." he spoke, party to himself, partly to the world, and he fumbled over to the bed, delivering a kick to the man as he made his way, receiving a groan in return, he set his head on the pillow.
Next morning, when Tiny entered, with some lovely stale bread, and delicious brown water, he shoved the door open "Hey Tim, here's some foo- oh forget that." and caught a sight of Oliver over the pilferer, body torn open, and his head cracked like an egg, and it's contents scooped out.
Quick as a flash, he slammed the door shut and locked it again. "Not my job to get rid of that."
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rakust dorenstkzul
- Posts: 2303
- Joined: Fri Mar 21, 2008 2:47 pm
- Location: In the heart of every smiling child
the door creaked open, the lock had been picked and the man was tiptoeing inside, he had been told of the place, always deserted, but filled with some good loot, as he gazed into the inky blackness, his tip seemed right, nobody was here, and nobody had been for days at least.
Then a rotting smell hit his nose, intrigued he stepped closer in, his eyes adjusted to the dark.
Oliver walked into him and bit his throat open, and cracked his skull with a rock. He died instantly. There was no funeral.
Then a rotting smell hit his nose, intrigued he stepped closer in, his eyes adjusted to the dark.
Oliver walked into him and bit his throat open, and cracked his skull with a rock. He died instantly. There was no funeral.