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Thread: [M]The Echoes of Hunger: Sealed in Blood(IC)

  1. #11
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    The old book lacked a title. Instead it simply had the word "M" written in a fanciful way on the front cover. Stitches had been sewn into the binding giving it a peculiar look. When she opened it instead of writing she found herself staring into a void. It was a pit, a deep one that looked bottomless. The light of the candle could not even pierce its depths. Something moved in the shadows of the pit, a crawling skittering thing. It lunged up at her then gripped the sides of the pit and hung there watching her. It was a gray hand with spider legs, ten of them, at the wrist. Along its back were fissures that cracked open revealing teeth. There was a lack of hostility, instead she found mournful eyes on the tips of its fingers staring back at her.

    It whispered to her. "Please save yourself." Then without warning it was ripped back into the pit followed by the gnashing of teeth and cracking of bones. A single eye watched her with two pupils in it. The creature started to rush towards her upwards from within the book. Around her the cabin shook but no one stirred awake. Bodil simply sat there as if nothing was happening while she watched the door.
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  2. #12
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    Trest struggled to free himself from the old, frayed bindings for a moment before he slowly lifted his head to search for the origin of the snarling and the metal scraping stone and the blood. He lightly pushed himself up on his knees, taking in his surroundings. He was dead before, and now he was…? He wasn’t sure where he was. He wasn’t even sure what he was. Some in his cult believed that its most holy worshipers became the very plagues that ravaged their body so that they may spread their gift to others, but many doubted this old, outdated view on the afterlife. Many believed they simple rotted in the ground and fed new life upon death. Less magical, less religious, but just as important. This was none of that.

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    Matte slammed the book shut, as if closing the leather binding would keep whatever she saw in said book inside said book, and not have it come out and take tender knibbles out of her person. She threw the book on the bed and grabbed the candle she had beside her bed then yelled, "Everyone up! We're leaving!" She barked orders to the guards to stay here on alert in case whatever was in that book decided it wanted to come out. Matte yelled at Beneford to grab a guard and Bodil to make sure the horses were far enough away from the house so that they wouldn't get too spooked by the soon-to-be fires that would be immolating from this place.

    Hoping she'd given Beneford enough time to get the horses to a safe distance away, then threw the candle on the bed and started to set the bed on fire. Matte wasn't even sure if setting books with god-knows-what inside them would do anything useful, but it had to be better than the alternative of just leaving it be. She grabbed whatever light kindling she could find and worked on getting the fire going as fast as possible without a handy accelerant. Once the fire got a little bit of a kick, she decided that not to stick around to see if her planned worked. She grabbed the guards and made her way outside, hoping that the cleansing fire would be enough...

  4. #14
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    After she slammed the book shut she heard it shudder before it was flung onto the bed. The others seemed confused by her actions. Bodil was shocked at first. "My lady?!" There was a mild hesitation from the guards but they trusted their leader. The horses were brought away from the building and Sibil worked with Beneford to ready the horses since Bodil was still trying to understand what was going on. Of course as soon as the fire kicked a bit she ran out of the building as fast as she could with Mette. Nothing came from the book as the building began to light up in a blaze. Something did show up however.

    As the sun was setting massive wolves with arms instead of front legs came rushing out of the nearby woods. Their eyes were red, their jaws dripping with blood that left trailers wherever they stalked. Bodil jumped into the carriage at their sight and held out a hand for Mette after realizing she put her own life first for a moment. Each of the wolves looked about the area but did not immediately charge them. Instead the wolves circled about the building barking and howling at it enraged. They only came so close and wouldn't go near to it. The rest of the guards and everyone jumped into their positions and waited for Mette to jump on as well before they would bolt off as quickly as they could. One of the wolves neared the fire but whined when it got to close and held a paw over its eyes.




    Whatever was on top of Trest's head rolled off as he rose up. It sounded like a battle between two creatures was happening right next to him. Someone landed exactly in front of him. He could hear their heavy breathing before they jumped away. Following behind them was something with claws that tore through the air, ripping into Trest. He felt it as the cloth was undone by the attack freeing him and allowing him to see where he was. Trest was in a small town with strange looking rectangular buildings all around. Everything looked dilapidated and brought to ruin. Moss had grown in a lot of places and much of the buildings were damaged in one way or another. Bodies were hanged at posts and crucified, especially many of them were burned.

    Next to Trest was a large wolf-like creature. It had thick silvery fur that reflected the moonlight. At the edge of its mouth was a chunk of flesh with bits of cloth around it. This monster rushed at another figure. The man across from it was very tall and slim of build. He dashed while twirling holding a massive axe in one hand and a strange weapon in the other. It resembled a pipe with a handle that was made of silver. When his finger clicked a small device at the handle it exploded at the tip firing something at the wolf. Its chest blew open revealing its heart, which stunned the creature for a moment. He took the opportunity and closed in on it, he himself was missing the right half of his right shoulder. As soon as his axe collided with the wolf it flew backwards and sprayed both of them with blood.

    The blood felt wrong, and yet so right. His body absorbed it through even his clothes and get felt invigorated. While he was once a husk his body began to fill out again and there came a blood lust into his system. This was like an addictive drug. Trest could see the strange warrior regenerating where the blood had splashed him. Similar to what was happening with himself.
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  5. #15
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    Alton forced himself to calm down. ‘Slow down. You’re not dead. You are dreaming... maybe.. But not dead.’ He chastised himself silently. His eyes closed now, he began to mentally take stock. Fingers? Hands? Arms? Yes all present. Toes? Feet? Legs? Yes those too, all present.

    His eyes still closed, he forced himself to relax. ‘You are not dead. You have a body, and all your appendages. You are having sentient thoughts. You are not dead. You are very much alive. You are alive in this very moment.” Silently he counted to ten. Willing himself to relax. Again and again, eyes closed, as though he thought blocking out the insane sights around him would help, Alton would focus on relaxing his body.

    How long he did this, it was hard to say, but he had become acclimatized to feeling around his body. He could fell that he drifted. How he didn't know, but forced on that, the drifting of his body. Alton resisted the urge to open is eyes. Yes he was drifting, perhaps floating was a better word. It felt much like he was adrift in a slow moving lazy river. There was no water, but as he focused on the slow meandering movement of his body, he could almost feel the soft eddies that swirled as he glided through the invisible slow currents.

    With his faculties once more settled and on an even keel, versus the emotional highs and falls, Alton opened his eyes. The peaceful summer river of his imagination was gone, in its place, a wonderment of stars and celestial lights. What did it mean? He brow furrowed in thought as he tried to make logical sense of it all. He wasn’t dead, yet.. Could this be heaven? If this were heaven should he not see something that would secure that knowledge in his mind’s eye? It was hard a concept to swallow. He had given up on God as family member after family member died a horrible pain filled death during his lifetime.

    Then he saw her. She was glorious. It wasn’t her looks that made him think this, but her over all presence; it bespoke calm serenity, coupled with power. It seemed to exude from her. As he got closer he could hear her. She spoke, but it wasn’t in his capability to understand. Even as he slid through air toward her, he could hear more clearly that she did indeed speak. But what was she saying?

    Alton called out to her. “I am here.. I hear you, see you, yet I do not understand. Take pity please and enlighten me.. Where are we?”

  6. #16
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    She moved towards him and lifted her veil, yet he couldn't see a face. Beneath the veil she was a bright light like a star. She radiated and nearly blinded him as she approached him. A hand was placed on his cheek and she brushed his brow before placing her lips on his. Though he couldn't see her face he knew this woman. This was his wife. She breathed into him filling his lungs with air. "Please wake up, please wake up." Then she made a startling move and slapped him.

    Alton was jolted awake. He was on his back among the remains of the ship. Water slapped his feet as a woman knelt over him. There was water in his throat that was coming up and she pulled back away from him and wiped her lips. "Please wake up, I can't be alone here!" Across half buried in the sand was the dark haired man who had landed beside him. His ribs were open and exposed as some sort of slimy thing scurried around in front of him. The man was clearly dead and whatever the gray creature was it had a lamprey like mouth that began to pick at the man's inner organs.

    It was still dark out and the nearby water was blacker than the sky. The moon watched over them with its pale light. Alton recognized the woman who was beside him. She was a nun, barefoot with a large loose white tunic and yellow leggings. Her name was Helen. Helen got to her feet and backed away from the dead man and the creature. The slimy thing was like a bulbous sack with black ring patterns on its grey body. White eyes stuck out of the sides of it which constantly looked about and shifted.
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    Matte decided she could figure out what in the world was going on at a later date; this was the moment to act. She assumed that there must be a connection between these wolves and the book, but what? Where they bound to it? Was it a relic of some kind that they treasured? Whatever it was, it was distracting the wolves, which was more than enough for her. Matte jumped onto the carriage, making sure all the guards and retinue were accounted for. Was it possible that the wolves were hunting whatever it was that Matte saw in that book? All of this was conjecture at this point so there was no use putting too much process into it. She barked at the carriage driver to move out; they would figure out what to do for the night when they had some distance between them and the burning wreckage that was the small cottage. Matte kept looking back to see what the wolves were doing, or more specifically to see if they were chasing them.

    Matte talked to Bodil to see if she could get some opinions, "The horses won't be able to run for long. If the wolves, or whatever those things are, give chase, I doubt we'll keep at speed long enough to escape. The fire is a distraction and it's giving us a good head start, but I don't want to rely on that as our only means of escape. Plus, I'm not sure that we'd be safe even if we did stop. Do you know of any place near here we can use as refuge of some kind? A cave, house, anything? I'd almost suggest hiding but horses would just get scared and whinny, which would make the act pointless. We can't go off-road at all, the carriage would never survive plus the horses would stumble in the dark. Talk to whomever you can, get options, I'll see what our situation is like," and with that Matte popped her head out the door to assess the situation as best as she could under the circumstances.

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    The horses ran like the wind. They didn't stop nor did they have much of a chance to look back. During their travel their eyes scanned for spots to hide but all they were met with was forest. Short brick walls were there every now and then but barely even Bodil could hide behind one. That was when the pack began to catch up. On all fours they sprinted moving faster than the horses who were now getting tired. Beneford tried to whip them into running but he risked breaking them, the horses were at their limits. Sibil was on the back of the carriage and twisted her weapon in a defensive posture. "I can dive off to the side and try to lead them away!"

    There was a loud thump as something landed atop the carriage. Instead of something it was a someone. Her hair was brown and wild with matted down bits. She had pale skin and a mouth full of fangs, she sneered at first then took on a smug grin while looking down at Matte. Her body was covered in black clothing the likes of which Matte had only seen in paintings. Given her glowing red eyes and clawed hands there was no denying it. This was a Vampire.

    The Vampire clicked her tongue and sat down beside Beneford who didn't even notice her presence. Sibil raised her weapon towards the Vampire who batted it away with her claw easily. Despite how casual the Vampire was acting, she was fast and powerful. That was as plain as day. "Hello there humans. Let's cut to the chase. It'll be a liter per person to live. Whoever doesn't pay dies to them." With her thumb she motioned towards the pursuing wolves.
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    Matte, with her head stuck outside the window of the carriage, looked at the 'Lady' on the driver's seat, then looked back at the 'wolves'. Then back at the 'Lady', then back at the 'wolves'. What deity did the Erg family offend? She looked at Sibil, wondering if her guards were strong enough to stand and fight. Even with the possiblity that they would win the encounter, the odds of having everyone live was probably quite low. Plus, there was the problem that Matte did not understand her enemy; either one for that matter. They might be able to rip apart the 'wolves' with ease, or conversely they might not stand a chance, but at the end of the day the frightening problem was she did not know what the probably outcome was.

    She thought back to the 'Lady' swatting the sword away from Sibil. Worst case scenario, if she wanted the carriage team dead, odds are they would be. As potentially horrible as the prospect was, having an ally out here might be a good idea, even if the alliance was borderline if not actually parasitic. The offer made by the Vampire, assuming she wasn't something worse than a Vampire, wasn't lethal or even debilitating, at least not right at the moment, so there was that to consider as well. In an effort of will, she stared into the eyes of the Vampire and shouted (probably more out of fear than the necessity to actually he heard), "One liter and not a drop more, plus succor to a safe haven," she said defiantly, her inner merchant kicking in at probably the worst possible time in recorded history.
    Last edited by Vivienne; 04-12-2018 at 05:58 PM. Reason: Grammar

  10. #20
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    Trest grimaced as the claws dug into him, even as they freed him from the rest his bindings. Rolling off the pile to get away from the fighting, he gently rose up to look over the pile and examine his surroundings. The corpses, the blood, the carnage, it was all… beautiful. But they should be giving life, not rotting here with no purpose. They should be in the forest, feeding the beasts and fertilizing new plant growth. The way they had it now saddened Trest as he looked upon it.

    He turned his attention back to the battle playing out next to him, watching as this slim warrior defeated the massive wolf-like predator with the odd pipe and the massive axe. The blast took Trest completely by surprise, causing him to flinch and jump. He was no warrior, no scholar. He had no idea what this odd exploding stick was, and he most definitely would not last in a battle with this being. He was incredibly outclassed here, and he didn’t want to die… again? He shook his head and sunk down behind the bodies, trying to hide himself as he thought.

    The blood lust hit him hard, and he wanted more then nothing to tear into the odd wolf-like creature or the piles of bodies around him, but his survival instinct kicked in and it was the clear winner in the conflict. He wished nothing more than to disappear and not be seen by this creature who could end him with a flick of the wrist. He slowed his breathing and sank further into the bodies, trying to appear as one of the dead.

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