Dawn of Day 3
That night started like any other, quiet. The crickets chirping and the soft night breeze a soft, sweet lullaby to sing the players asleep. The puzzles and mysteries left unsolved still turning in their heads like mobile on a child’s crib. A rumble shook the ground and then silence. Another rumble. More silence. Dread tearing many of the players from their peaceful slumber. However, their tent flaps were frozen shut once more, sealing them in for the night. The wind picked up as if in a fit and the sound of sand slapped the tents and ground. Some tearing little holes in the already age-old fabric. Ghastly faces appeared in the sandstorms, all familiar. A deep roar caused them to howl and push along with the tide of sand. Finally, the creature showed itself but with the sandstorm swirling around it like a cloak it was difficult to make out. Briefly a glint of an ornate scepter glowed in the scant moonlight. It’s black furred body, and long taloned fingers shifting impatient. Another bellow and a hum filled the air, from what little you could see. The ever-changing shape of the masses of locust, which appeared out of nowhere. Summoned without difficulty.
When they to vanished into the night just like the sandstorm that would rival the tales of old, nothing was left. The trees were barren of their leaves, and small dunes of sand lay piled in places. The lush green grass nothing but a tainted memory. This was all the players could see till they were set free.
The screams from the unfortunate soul resounded hollowly in the silent night. As the bipedal black furred creature stalked away, it dragged the corpse along with it, and by the time dawn struck. Once more the corpse of StormDreamer was on the flat stone, this time though the body wasn’t carefully placed. It was shredded to pieces, guts and internal organs spilling over the corpses shredded sides. The entirety of StormDreamer interiors was shown in the day light, and you could hear someone from the crowd throw up at the gory sight. The blood dribbling over the sides of the stone into the grass. What was left of their face stared blankly up at the sky, terror filled was StormDreamer single remaining eye. You could only wonder where the other got off to.
A new sandstone tablet lay besides the stone a small locust crawling on it and when a person from the crowd stepped forwards it buzzed and hummed off. With a choked voice, the player grabbed the tablet hesitantly and scanned it slowly before reading it aloud.
How much does thy must give thee?
How much of thy’s wrath does thee have to procure?
Thee asks for more,
Thee scraps for more,
Scrapping for life,
Like some ruffian from midnights past.
In thy master’s sick & twisted game
Thee’s death is nigh,
Incompetence is poison
Seeping into your mortal bones.
Thee’s story is the same as thee’s last
Jubilant,
Celebratory when thee lives one day more,
As days pass,
The players grow disheartened,
Weary.
Become faint hearted
Wallowing in perpetual despair,
Screaming whose there?!
Paranoia bleeding their hearts till not a single drop is left
A silent killer in the night,
A killer before even thy can brush them with the kiss of death.
The night stalks thee,
Waiting and watching,
Waiting till thee’s frost covered tent melts.
Till then,
Thy wishes you a foreboding farewell
Safely sealed in thee’s tent one begins to ponder over forgotten lore,
Legends enrapturing thee’s soul in its lovely cage
when suddenly there comes a tapping,
As if someone gently rapping,
rapping at thee’s fabric chamber door
Thee waits in habitual uncertainty
Filled with terrors never once felt before
Till thee’s heart settles its unusual pace,
Thee opens the flap of thee’s fabric chamber,
Finding darkness there, and nothing more
Staring frightfully into the darkness,
Sat there for some time wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no player ever dared to dream before,
The silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token.
The darkness tis naught but an illusion of thee’s soul
Then if the darkness is so impenetrable, Thee’s soul to is lost in the game.
Thee’s death comes quickly on silent wings
Screams,
Thee’s final words
So, pray heed and harken thy’s plea for an answer little player,
What is it like to be the one the owl prays on?
What is it like to be taken by death?
Is it still and calm like the firsts?
Or is it cruel and vicious like the lasts?
Thy is certain you want a hint to win?
So, thy will give it,
Careful now
If you wonder to cautiously,
Thee shall be bewitched
Go back four and you’ll find sancta’s rest
Go back more and you’ll find nothing but the silence of past,
Long since gone.
The master appeared at the edge of the now barren tree line and murmured quietly to himself as he approached, “My, my, it seems like someone let it all loose last night.” Speaking louder for most to hear, “Now wasn’t this night exciting? Such wonders what rage will do to a creature who wields such power.” A twisted, bemused smile on his lips.
“Albeit, too messy.” Snapping his fingers, and shadows appeared from the roses and engulfed the corpse leaving it sealed safely in a black cloud. Not a blood drop more was wasted, contained nicely in the shadow cloud. With that he turned around, “Enjoy your day, I’m rather pleased this result.” Walking off, and the cloud following behind him. Leaving the crowd in disturbed silence.
-StormDreamer, Healer, also known as Mikji, was killed
-Ability responses will be sent out shortly
-Day 3 has begun and will end on the 18th at 12:00
-A player has been poisoned
Players: @Ghostray @Nerasis @MagykalWagykal @Sirenia @Raya36 @Rangiku @Tanglefire @TheNightDancer @PurpleHibiscus @kaymontacell @WaywardWillow @Kamme @Kyumileo @JaguarCutie224
Spectators: @GilatheHybrid @Epioth @CrystalBones @Moonbeams @Cognitive @StormDreamer @Tristess
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Mai/Mat he/they/it |
ENTP- True Neutral- she/her- +3 FR time
