You sleep, or you don’t.
It matters not.
Come morning, nothing remains of Beqanna; scorched earth spreads out before you as far as the eye can see. The handful of survivors mill around, sobbing, muttering, sniffling—they’ve all lost something or someone, just like you. And the lot of you make the tall mountain your home for the next few days. You have nowhere else to go, after all. Not yet. There is still the dead to mourn and bearings to regain. In the meantime, some go about finding edible food and others look for water nearby. You make yourself as useful as you want to. Over the next few weeks, you make friends and enemies; inevitably, you all become lost in the day-to-day struggle and it seems the mountain is going to become a permanent home for your new makeshift herd.
At least, it would have. If not for what’s stirring down below.
It starts with one.
A horse, or what seems to be a horse, comes crawling out of the ash; hairless, charred black, there is dark magic at work that calls to the corpse and the other corpses. It makes them rise. They do not speak—but they do seem to communicate; guttural growls and shrieks draw the undead army together. They do not move naturally, but their jerk-and-twitch motion seems sped up, somehow; they’re much, much faster than they used to be, at any rate. It takes them less than a day to devour every animal unlucky enough to escape the fire.
They can smell you, too. You and your little group that thinks they’re safe high up on the mountain. Eventually, their hunger gets the best of them and they begin to make their way up, up, up—a putrid stench proceeds them and their approach is hardly silent. They have no need for silence, not when they can so easily run you down and rip you apart. Your only hope now is being faster than someone else.
It matters not.
Come morning, nothing remains of Beqanna; scorched earth spreads out before you as far as the eye can see. The handful of survivors mill around, sobbing, muttering, sniffling—they’ve all lost something or someone, just like you. And the lot of you make the tall mountain your home for the next few days. You have nowhere else to go, after all. Not yet. There is still the dead to mourn and bearings to regain. In the meantime, some go about finding edible food and others look for water nearby. You make yourself as useful as you want to. Over the next few weeks, you make friends and enemies; inevitably, you all become lost in the day-to-day struggle and it seems the mountain is going to become a permanent home for your new makeshift herd.
At least, it would have. If not for what’s stirring down below.
It starts with one.
A horse, or what seems to be a horse, comes crawling out of the ash; hairless, charred black, there is dark magic at work that calls to the corpse and the other corpses. It makes them rise. They do not speak—but they do seem to communicate; guttural growls and shrieks draw the undead army together. They do not move naturally, but their jerk-and-twitch motion seems sped up, somehow; they’re much, much faster than they used to be, at any rate. It takes them less than a day to devour every animal unlucky enough to escape the fire.
They can smell you, too. You and your little group that thinks they’re safe high up on the mountain. Eventually, their hunger gets the best of them and they begin to make their way up, up, up—a putrid stench proceeds them and their approach is hardly silent. They have no need for silence, not when they can so easily run you down and rip you apart. Your only hope now is being faster than someone else.
Tantalize has been eliminated. Instead of ending up on the mountainside, you chose to head to The Beach.
Naoi has been eliminated. Instead of ending up on the mountainside, you chose to go to a meadow.
Tersias, you have received Wormskin – You are now encased in thick, slimy brown skin and a fat ring of orange covers your neck. You no longer have hair and will crawl on your belly for the rest of your days. Slime tends to mark your trail and birds will certainly enjoy trying to have a go at you. Burrowing during daylight hours will come naturally to you, due in part to the fact that if you spend too much time in the sun you are sure to dry up.
I'm sorry, darlings.
- You must write about the weeks that have come and gone since your character ‘woke up.’
- What have they been doing? Who have they met? How is life on the mountain?
- Your character must make a total of three ‘friends,’ no limit on enemies in the group. There are thirteen horses, your character included, in the entire group. One friend must be gray, one must be chestnut, and the last one must be black. Name them whatever you want.
- When the horde attacks, you must decide which one of your new character’s ‘friends’ gets sacrificed to the horde to save the others. Choose wisely. If your character decides to sacrifice itself, stop your post before the horde actually gets to them.
- How they/your character are/is sacrificed is entirely up to you.
- You have 48 hours from the time my post hits the board. The round will be over after 48 hours or after all participants have replied. You may withdraw from the quest within this time to avoid a defect. Failure to respond or withdraw within 48 hours will result in a defect and automatic elimination.
This round, you will be judged based on creativity and the general flow of your post (poor grammar, sudden changes in tense, etc, will be huge no-nos). A non-participating owner will be consulted if you decide to contest the results once the round is over. One horse per round will be eliminated until we get down to the final three.