Night Tortures

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GuyroneRanger
Posts: 4
Joined: Tue Aug 11, 2015 3:43 am

Night Tortures

Post by GuyroneRanger »

Guyrone softly pads his way through the woods, his skill in walking silently having improved since his eighteenth birthday, more than a hundred years have passed. Dark shadows stretch across the forest floor, each one cast from the sun almost hidden above the treetops. A tall oak tree stands ontop of a small hill in front of him, he rubs his eyes, worn with exhaustion, as he doesn't remember seeing the tree there moments earlier. His Great Bear padding along beside him turns and looks at the elf and tilts his head gently to one side. "I know Oak, I'm not sure where it came from either, let's get a little closer and check this out"
As the duo get closer to the tree, a dense fog begins to fill the area, the ranger holds his hand out in front of him, only able to see the outline of his fingers through the haze. He takes two steps more, resting his hand on the trunk of the tree. The Great Bear next to him lets out a low growl, sending vibrations through the bones of Guyrone. He looks up into the branches of the large tree, trying to scan it's boughs for anything out of place, but the fog is too dense for him to make out any details. Suddenly with a loud crack a large tree branch breaks and begins falling to the ground, Guyrone takes a step to the side, then tucks into a sumersault trying to roll away from the branch before it can hit him. As the branch hits the ground, a large pit opens up, swallowing the branch, the ground begins to crack and open up wider and wider. Guyrone's surefooting seems to faulter as he slips and falls, grabbing onto the ledge of the ground, his legs hanging in the pit. With his free hand he reaches into his pouch and pulls out a bear claw stabbing it into the wall of the crevice trying to gain some traction. He looks up to see Oak, his Great Bear standing at the edge of the pit. With a roar, the bear lifts his great paw and swipes out towards the elf's hand still holding onto the edge of the ground. Suddenly Guyrone begins falling, and falling and falling.."

With a start, Guyrone jolts upwards in bed, the soft cotton sheets wrapped around his legs and arms in an unmanageable tangled mess.
GuyroneRanger
Posts: 4
Joined: Tue Aug 11, 2015 3:43 am

Re: Night Tortures

Post by GuyroneRanger »

Zanus rises over the night sky, outlining the silhouette of a tent resting on a hillside. Guyrone strides up the hill, his pouch full of bone darts gently rattling against his thigh. Approaching the tent, he stops to gather more kindling, knowing that he will have to start the campfire again. Bending over, he strikes his flint, small sparks erupting, after a few strikes, he begins blowing gently, stoking the embers into a bright, but small flame. Gently he places a few larger logs over the flame, and turns to let the fire catch. He turns to his tent and strips down, gathering his clothes in a pile to take to the nearby lake to wash. He reaches over his shoulder and brushes his hand over a scar that runs along his shoulderblade. His eyes cloud over for a moment, it seems as if he's always had the scar, it feels familiar, but he can't remember how he got it.

Mentally shrugging the feeling away, he grabs his pile of clothes and makes his way to the lake. His skin reflecting the moonlight, he crouches low, submerging his gear and rubbing it along some stones to try to pull the grime and dirt off of them. After a short while, he turns, laying out the clothes on the ground to dry during the night and the early morning sun. He dives into the water himself now, submerging his body beneath the gently rippling surface. He holds his breath as long as he can swimming just under the surface, allowing the water to wash over his skin. He comes up for air, running his hands through his hair, pulling out smal leaves and twigs that have come to rest in his blonde locks. His eyes look around the lake for a moment, and he dives back under, swimming back and forth, using all his energy to go faster and faster. Hoping if he exhausts himself, perhaps he can fall into a deeper sleep that night. Finally, he wades out of the water, the cool breeze against his wet skin causing him to shiver immediately. He works his way back to the tent, crawling into his bedroll for warmth.

Tossing back and forth, the elf can't seem to find a comfortable position to fall asleep. He opens a flash near his head and takes a long pull of it's contents. Returning the flask's cap, he wipes his mouth off with his hand. Looking down, in his palm is a strange sight, a single tooth. He reaches up to his mouth quickly, his eyes opening wide in surprise. Brushing his tongue along his teeth, he can feel the emptiness where the tooth was moments earlier. He touches the next tooth over, and it falls out. A state of panic takes over as each of his teeth begin to fall from his mouth. His heart beats quickly as he screams loudly.


Sitting on a thick branch of a treetop, Guyrone opens his eyes and looks out across the wood. His hand goes to his mouth out of reflex to find all is as it should be, but his eyes grow wearier still.
GuyroneRanger
Posts: 4
Joined: Tue Aug 11, 2015 3:43 am

Re: Night Tortures

Post by GuyroneRanger »

The smell of the sweat coming from the band of dark elves drifted slowly in the wind, reaching Guyrone's nose. Lurking in the shadows, the elf pulls out a bone dart and takes aim, throwing it into the back of the nearest dark elf. With a groan and a thump, the warrior falls, dropping his sword onto the cobbled floor of Oligar's Fortress. The remaining Dark Elves turn quickly, two notching an arrow onto their bows, and the other holding his dark mithril sword at the ready.

Guyrone steps out, a dart twirling between his fingers.
"I followed you since I saw you scouting out the Redwood. What business did you have there"

With a snarl, one of the dark elves releases their arrow, sending it flying towards the blonde ranger. Ducking into a somersault, Guyrone rolls away quickly, throwing another dart in mid roll. The dart flies truly, and strikes the archer in the knee. Charging forward the warrior swings his mithril blade, causing a spark as it misses Guyrone, but strikes the stones forcefully.

Guyrone reaches down to his pouch of darts once more, as his hand withdraws, a strange sensation causes him to look at his fingers curiously. Instead of dart, a small spider crawls across his hand. Quickly he shakes his hand and reaches towards his pouch, once again ducking away as the sword swings down. Another two arrows are loosed in quick succession by the archers. One of them strikes his arm, hitting just over his elbow. He pulls his right hand out of the pouch holding the wounded arm by reflex. As he looks down to judge the severity of the wound, three more spiders crawl off his hand and across his arm, quickly skittering, their mandibles clacking as they crawl towards his shoulder. He turns his head slightly towards his pouch, as an endless stream of spiders pour out of it, quickly covering his thighs and waist in a black sheet of quickly moving legs. In horror he looks up just in time to see the sword swinging towards his head, ducking under the swing he takes two steps before the spiders have continued to flow from his pouch of darts, making their way up his chest. He yanks quickly on the arrow in his shoulder, screaming in pain. The wound pulsates as more spiders begin crawling from the open hole instead of blood. As the spiders make their way up his neck and around his hair, he looks towards the dark elves as an arrow flies towards his face. Time seems to slow down as the spider legs crowd his field of vision, the last thing he sees is the black head of an arrow before darkness envelops him.


A small tabby cat rests soundly on the chest of the ranger Guyrone as he sleeps fitfully in a cot in Omnicat's temple. He opens his eyes slowly, sweat soaking the sheets as the cat leans forward, licking a bead of sweat from his face.

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