Escape at Twilight

[Pallas]

As Sunrifter slips below the horizon bringing the twilight and creatures of the night, summer fades, making way for the cool winds of autumn -- and Fall Festival. We know you've probably been caught somewhere you shouldn't have been whilst under the cover of twilight.
Pick one of the scenarios below and regale us with your tale of heroism, foolishness, cowardice, bravery, death, etc. Tell us of a time where you barely escaped with your wits, or about a time you were so scared you can only just bring yourself to repeat what happened. Old story, new story, truth, non-truth -- we won't know the difference !!
You may share your tale through a short story or poem. Something that gives enough detail to immerse the reader in your heroic tale. This contest is open to all except officers of Twilight Serenity.


Rules:
Entries should maintain the spirit of Valorn using one of the presented scenarios.
One entry per character.
Please post submissions in this thread, including character name and number
Deadline for entries - Sunday November 5th, 7pm EST, midnight GMT
The entries will be judged shortly after the end of FallFest and the result announced in this thread.

Prizes
First prize Treasure box plus 1500 potions of choice
Second prize Deaths reset scroll plus 1000 potions of choice
Third prize 500 plat plus 500 potions of choice

Choose one of the following scenarios

The Duberry Swamps
Follow your nose, they said, when you asked directions to this swamp. And sure enough the foul stench led you here. But now, it seems the noxious gases which bubble from the mud have dulled your sense of direction. You've struggled through black water and oozing mud for marc after marc with no recollection of which way you came. Even the vegetation of this benighted area seems ready to kill you should you let it. You hear the sound of creatures hopping or slithering through the festering swamps - and you suspect that some other, larger creature may be on your trail. As twilight fades to darkness you know you must find sanctuary in Dundee. Please tell us the tale of your adventures as you seek the safety of the Inn.

Midnight Beach
One by one the companions with whom you set out on this venture have disappeared. You've watched in sadness as some have been sent to a life monument by one of the creatures that infest the area, whilst others have sought the comparative safety of a niche in the cliffs with the intention of taking their rest. There is precious little to tell you how far along the beach you've strayed. In the distance lie the remains of some lost ship, but otherwise all you see are a range of cliffs, the expanse of the beach, and the waves of the shark-infested waters that pound the shoreline.
The fading rays of Sunrifter disappear into the blackened stones littering the beach as twilight falls. You hear iguanas slithering around you, and sea turtles scuttle past. The wind brings from afar the sound of pirate scouts and crab-things engaged in deadly combat. You must find refuge - and quickly! Please, tell us of your adventures as you make your way to the pub at Caernivale.

Spiders and Termites and Vultures...Oh My!
You've been strolling around Laleldan village in the gathering twilight, chatting with the traders whilst making a few purchases of clothing and foodstuffs. As you turn to head home you are suddenly aware of a skittering sound, and catch glimpse of some foul-looking creatures with far too many legs running about. Sure enough, the Crier confirms your suspicion that water spiders are infesting the village! Other creatures have been disturbed from their usual haunts at the old mill, for the shout goes up -- termites have been seen in Milltown! And dark vultures, lured by the chance of a freshly-killed meal, are on the path between Milltown and Dundee.
You begin to shake and sob like a little girl. "Spiders. Why did it have to be spiders?!" If you can pull yourself together, please share with us what happened as you make your way to safety,


And of course, the classic (And Ellyana's personal favourite) ...

The Mayoral Basement
The wall you find yourself leaning against is coated in slime and the light here is so dim you cannot see what is emitting those moans and groans, but the shuffling is awful familiar. You light the torch in your shaking hand and the now burning flame briefly covers the putrid, rotting stench that reaches your unhappy nose. You hold out the lit torch, waving away the smell with your free hand, wondering "How did I get here? Last thing I remember it was twilight and I was just about to have an ale ...” and that is when you spot the disgruntled horde. Zombies! Everywhere ... and they are advancing on you! Tell us the story of your daring escape back to your ale!

Pallas
53943

[Alfred Elpin]

The Mayoral Basement

Alfred looks down into the amber-colored ale, his skin still pale from the night's events. Speaking to no one in particular, the old farmer continues his tale of escape.

"...And that's when I thought to myself, 'How did I get here? Last thing I remember it was twilight and I was just about to have a... mead...' But, suddenly the wall that I was leaning against gave way and I fell backwards, landing hard on my back. Y'know, for an old man, that isn't the best of places to land, not the worst, but definitely not the best."

Alfred swirls his drink as his shoulder rise and fall with a deep breath. He shudders before continuing.

"I had a torch in my hand. I am not sure where it came from, but it lit on the first try and that's when I saw..." Alfred audibly gulps. "The Horde. These were no ordinary zombies shambling about mindlessly. I could feel their eyes fixated upon my chest, as if they could hear the rapidly increasing heart hammering away within.

It was a night of celebration. I had come back from the family farm and was waiting for my dear... friend... at Cerbie's. I had a costume to show her, a gnome-gods how I hate gnomes. But, it was a joke and I knew she'd get a kick out of it. So, I wasn't carrying my usual gear. I was dressed in my usual farmer smock and hat, some woven sandals, and I had my faithful pruning knife on my belt.

I couldn't fight the Horde with just a pruning knife, so I ran. I mean, I ran. I threw that torch into the Horde and took off the other direction. Of course, that didn't go too well, either. Now I'm night-blind by the torch, running in the nearly complete darkness, and there is a Horde slowing hunting me.

I looked behind me for a moment, trying to measure the distance I had put between me and the Horde using the light of the torch as a marker. But they were so thickly marching together that the light was extinguished almost immediately. I looked ahead just in time to see a root at about head level growing from out of the wall. I managed to miss most of it, but a jagged piece was jutting downwards and cut my shoulder.

I didn't have time to stop the bleeding, I just kept running. The tunnel I was in turned abruptly one way, then the other. Until finally, it led to a dead-end. There was no way the Horde could still be hot on my trail, right? I backtracked, but there weren't any other openings. Anywhere! I made my way back towards the end of the tunnel and stood there, waiting for my demise.

That's when I felt warm liquid - no, not that warm liquid! There, in the middle of the cobblestone path, was a stream of gods know what. Thankfully, it was dark and I can pretend it was just rainwater that had seeped through the earthen tunnel walls. I knelt down and felt for which direction the water was flowing. I followed it for a bit knowing that it had to be coming and going. Sure enough! There was a grate for the liquid to pass through. I managed to wedge it open far enough to slip inside and then I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I don't know how many marcs I spent in that little grated escape, but the horde eventually shuffled by. I urged my beating heart to still and quiet itself so I could hear their footfalls. After at least another marc, I crawled out and made my way back towards the other end of the tunnel. However I ended up in that tunnel, the Horde must have smelled my captor and hung around for him to return. There, at the top of some very slick stairs, was a door.

With a bit of force, I pushed it open and made my escape. And that's how I found myself here." Finally, he looks up and locks eyes with a local butcher sitting at the other end of the bar. "Wait... Wasn't I drinking mead before? Where am I?" His vision blurring as the local butcher, now standing at the end of the bar, casts a dangerous eye towards the barkeep before approaching Alfred. The night's events beginning again.