Advent Prompt 10

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Rhalia
New Adventurer
Posts: 50
Joined: Sun Apr 26, 2020 6:56 pm

Advent Prompt 10

Postby Rhalia » Fri Dec 10, 2021 3:00 pm

Slowly, my hearing began to return, everything starting out as a low muffle and gradually becoming more clear and distinguishable. The warm and familiar glow of the life monument outside of Branishor a bitter-sweet comfort.
I silently cursed under my breath before offering up another prayer to the gods in thanks for their foresight and beneficence in the life monuments. Sitting up, I leaned against the warm glowing thing and replayed the events that brought me back there.
I was training in the Verthedge Forest, having finally been able to make my way there, despite my friend's cautions that I may not be ready. But stubborn as I am, I went anyway.
Taking in the sounds of the forest, distant memories flooded my mind. Vague whispers from long ago. That's when I heard it. The howl of wolves. But they were not like the cries of the wolves I frequently encountered in the Dark Forest. They seemed... larger.
Before I knew it, I heard the unmistakable sound of growling and panting on either side of me. I drew my warrior excellent broadsword and readied my shield of eternal light, determined to advance.
I felt the ground shake as one of the wolves massive forepaws came down nearby. With my keen senses, I heard the wolf behind me preparing to pounce.
I leapt to one side, rolling as I landed. Searing pain in my leg. I wasn't sure which one it was, but one of them had gotten a swipe in. Both wolves now in front of me, I focused my senses. They were moving, trying to flank me once again. Their growling and snarling giving them away.
Choosing one, I waited for the right time and swung my sword. I felt the tough hide of the beast give way to my blade, though it was much thicker and tougher than any other wolves I had encountered before.
Just then, more pain. The force of the blow staggered me as I felt wet warmth down my back. The blasted second wolf must have gotten a good swipe on me.
My head began to swim and my hearing began to dim as the blood ebbed from my body. The last memory was of the sound of that growling and the tremble of the ground.
Having regained myself, I stood from the life monument. Perhaps my friends were correct, as usual. But I would not be deterred. I just needed better equipment.
I had heard rumors of a creature deep in the mines where I might be able to gain a rare item. I Checked my supply of potions and set out.
The trek to the mine was an easy one, the mountain gremlins that inhabit the area giving me little trouble. Finding the entrance to the mines barricaded, I searched for another way in. There had to be a ventilation shaft or something. I climbed a moderately steep incline and placed an unwary foot on the edge of one such shaft and tumbled down. Landing with a crash, I found myself in the mines.
With a groan, I got to my feet. Listening intently, I heard the distant sound of clanging to the east. I guessed it was east anyway, the fall had me somewhat disoriented. Shrugging it off, I started out.
Battling my way through the mine, I finally arrived to a crevice in the wall. I squeezed my way through and heard the unmistakable sound of rushing water, an underground river.
I chose a direction and continued my slow and laborious trek. Again, I battled my way through the cavern, finding a waterfall and a thin ledge on which I could shimmy along.
A dead end. Again, I cursed under my breath.
Turning back, I once again fought hoards of beasties to return to the crack I had slipped through.
Then, I felt it. Her presence. The overwhelming aura of divinity.
I immediately dropped to my knees and bowed my head in reverence. I trembled, whether from excited fear or the sheer magnitude of her power I know not.
“You may rise, mortal”
Her lilting voice, though soft and soothing like Birdsong carried on a gentle breeze, was also powerful and terrible, carrying all of the authority of her station like the raging tempest of a hurricane. I was instantly on my feet.
“I have been observing you mortal. Your dedication to your training and propensity for difficult battles are to be admired.”
I suddenly felt the third finger of my ride hand being constricted. I could feel a warm glow emanating from the point of pressure, As well as vigor flowing into me.
“Take this ring with my blessings and know that I am pleased. Continue on your quest mortal, I shall be watching.”
With that, I heard the distinct sound of a blade being drawn from it’s scabbard and The whoosh of air as the blade was swung.
The stale air of the cavern hummed and crackled with energy as a rift opened. And like that, in a brilliant flash of violet light that registered even to my sightless eyes, she was gone.
Dumbfounded, I stood there for a few split-marcs. I fiddled with the ring upon my finger, as though to assure myself that I had not hallucinated the experience. The blessed energy coursing through my body ensured I would not tarry long however.
I proceeded on my course in a strangely lucid daze. Enemy after enemy I effortlessly slew until I finally found myself battling the alabaster monstrosity. It gave me little more trouble than the waves of minions that preceded it. Before I knew it, I was prying the alabaster gauntlets from it’s corpse, a pittance compared to the blessed ring I received from Magistra Kailani.
From that turn on, I have endeavored to be more devoted to the gods and offer a prayer of thanks as I awaken each turn.

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Bifrost Janger
Experienced Adventurer
Posts: 412
Joined: Mon Jan 02, 2017 12:02 am

Re: Advent Prompt 10

Postby Bifrost Janger » Sat Dec 11, 2021 3:33 pm

Bif awoke with trepidation on a Tuesday. He'd slept down in the hole. With his back propped against a mound of dirt; his feet straight out before him.

He heard the muffled calls of the Crier; affirming that it was the dawn. It was impossible to tell down here. Bif had been down in his hole for so long that he was losing sense of turns and time.

He needed a bath. His hands cracked and flaked mud as he unfastened his flask and poured himself a cup of hot tea. His brow felt stiff beneath it's mar of grime. He was tired; but not that tired yet. The mad passion that often envoked Bif to do the things that he did still burnt within him. He was a young man, and he was still fired. Looking back at his old notes, it was nearing five years since he had become a Gremlin Watcher. Five years of plodding. Though this turn, Bif felt as though he was nearing something. He was too close to whatever it was to give up now.

So, a few cycles prior Bif had tacked a notice to the board - calling for aid. He had asked his fellow adventurers to come and help him dig. Though, this morning, as he sat in the quiet dark of the tree and listened to the Crier's call, he was assailed with the first fingers of doubt. Not everyone had always agreed with his beliefs. And Bif knew that there would be no gain to be had down in this dark hole for anyone that came. He offered coin to foot the bill. But most of his peers didn't need his money...

There were no feats of glory to be had down here. It was just a hole. A hole like any other. In fact, it might be even lesser a hole; what for its placing and purpose.

Bif had heard most all of it over the years. Fanatic. Lunatic. Scaring off Initiates. Most recently, it had been said that he had forgotten friends in his obsession. Bif had squabbled and puffed about it at the time. But now, as he swallowed his tea and felt his insides curdle, he could not help but worry.

What if nobody came? What if he'd be left to dig alone. It would take him till next year to achieve such a thing alone. And that was without expertise; the tunnel would likely cave on him and crush him before he ever made it that far.

What would happen then? Would they come and fetch him out? Tut over his silly, skinny body? Dirt in his ears. Mud in his lungs. Crushed. Bury him outside the Hollowed Tree and leave his momento out for all to see? It brought to mind the graveyard; Fall Fest. Troll toast.

Bif shuddered and forced himself to eat a bread cookie. It felt like imagined dirt in his mouth but he forced himself to swallow it down. A weak body would do him no good this turn.

The marcs dragged by as he waited. Bif mulled over the Bone Wall. The crack. Sometimes he swore he heard strange noises coming from beyond it. But maybe it was just the scuffing of Gremlin feet. Apparently there had been some hullabaloo with the wall the night prior. Bris had written him in panicked scrawl. Soul Harvesters and an explosion. Raffe's lantern (that he had left hung on a root) had been dented and smashed to pieces. It was the old sort of lantern; the kind that the Iron Knights had carried back when Bif was just a boy. It seemed silly to fret over; it was just another broken thing that was his fault. Add it to 'the list'.

But at last the mark came that Bif heard other noises; the unmistakable voices of his peers and fellows as they came down the tunnel. And the creeping doubt that had encroached upon him all turn slowly ebbed away.

It seemed foolish, now, that he would ever give them doubt. Bris, who had supported him always. Ivan, who had been so delighted over his tiny shovel. Raffe, who had never scolded him despite their vast differences. His guildkin Zarock. Pallas, who had never been afraid to get his hands dirty. Even Low was there; who had been so disheartened by him just turns before.

Avedis, who said he only ever loved coin; but Bif felt sure that he knew there was none to be found here. Zibathia, who barely knew him at all. And Topaz who (he strongly suspected) believed him to be the biggest nuisance in all of the lands. They all came.

It seemed like it was in no time at all, when they broke surface just paces from Low's hut. The stars were waiting out to greet Bif; the air fresh, crisp and bracing as he pulled himself free of the earth. The Gremlins were on his heels, following him out into the night.

But it wasn't until later, when Bif was alone and wading out into temperate waters, that he realised what he had achieved. His body stank of sweat and dung; he left a cloud of muck in his wake. But, he had crawled through junk, plastered himself in manure, and came out on the other side to the laughter of a Goddess.

It had been a good turn, and this, thought Bif, must be what victory felt like.
Fear is a strange soil. It grows obedience like corn, which grow in straight lines to make weeding easier. But sometimes it grows the potatoes of defiance, which flourish underground. - Terry Pratchett


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