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Twelvegage

Twelvegage

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The rhythm of the beast’s beating heart had lulled most to sleep. They'd traveled quite far now, far from safety or hope of rescue. Sight was useless in the black hollow; he heard them cry out faintly, smelled the pungent musk that was their fear saturating the enclosed space even as they slept. The fetid odor of the others and sultry atmosphere was making him nauseous.

He stood and felt his way to the opening of their den and slithered into the crack. With every exhale the dry, hot flesh pressed against his face and chest. He wasn’t quite sure how’d he gotten them to follow him into this dark crevice where the living walls seemed to try and crush any visitor.

After a short time, that might have been quite long for all he knew, the walls spread apart; he emerged into the frigid blackness outside. Maybe he shouldn’t have left his heavy coat inside. Sweat that had pooled around underarms, groin, and forehead began to freeze. Soon he was shivering violently and his mind began to wander.

“It’s just a short walk, Tier. You scout around. Maybe shoot an arrow at something, let Vero map some things out, and then you’re back.”

“A short walk,” He brushed back almond brown strands of hair from a sharp, hawkish face. “Yet plenty of others have never come back from this ‘short walk’.”

“Dunderheads and fools the lot of them. If you’* look at the past lists you’ll recognize a number of known cowards and undesirables who were drafted,” he paused and dropped his voice to a whisper. “For the sole purposing of purging them from our illustrious society.”

“I’ve read your current list, friend, and I found several drafted ‘undesirables’ on this expedition as well.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you did, but again; they’re only there to pad the group. Hopefully they’ll be the only ones to not return if something goes awry. Glory, honor, position: all these could be yours for the price of a dozen cycles of the sun.”

05-Jul-2015 05:38:11

Twelvegage

Twelvegage

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"Don’t forget the blood and souls of myself and the others.” Tier muttered. Despite his misgivings he knew he wouldn’t pass up the chance. Complaining was merely part of the ritual to delude himself into thinking he actually gave a damn about anyone else.

A distant sound akin to a long, pleasant moan broke through his remembrance. Perhaps it was something out in the dark calling a mate, tracking a kill, or gathering its pack; whatever it was Tier decided he didn't want to meet it at night.

Now he was all too happy to let the walls of flesh hug him and leech the cold from his bones. The heat and confined space had a comforting effect, a kind of peace settled over him while he wormed his way back toward his group.

---

One by one twelve elves worked their way free from the cleft and into the dull haze of morning. Tier stared off into the distance. Nothing but a landscape of jutting bone and rolling flesh as far as his eyes could see.

The weight of a blade at his side, a bow in his hand, quiver and pack slung over his shoulder: all these things gave a false sense of safety. Even Vero slept with his sheathe cradled in his arms like child clinging to a doll. They were well and truly lost; the wildness they traversed a breathing behemoth that grew beneath their feet. Only luck and quick wit might save them now.

"Fall in behind me. Keep an eye out.” Tier led the column off into the fog.

Can be MIA: Yes

Can be killed: With permission

Can be resurrected: Yes

Can self-resurrect: No

Retinue:
Vero: A veteran scout with a penchant for cartography. He is competent archer, but his swordsmanship is rather haphazard.
Ten elves, trained in bow and blade, but fear riddled and unused to the horrors of the world.

Company: 57th Expeditionary Force of Yggd*asil

Location: The Surface

05-Jul-2015 05:39:21

Twelvegage

Twelvegage

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((Honestly, I'm horribly embarrassed by this, but I'd spent at least an hour staring off and on at a blank page so I decided I'd write, suffer the embarrassment, and perhaps try out some less generic things later. I might stick with the bio format after reading your example; it was quite descriptive and well written.))

05-Jul-2015 05:41:38

Azigarath

Azigarath

Posts: 9,271 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Review

Hey there; I really like how the story begins. The first paragraph really helps create the claustrophobia the characters must feel, and the doom Tier probably thinks will happen. Yet, at the same time, those fleshy walls do sound nice and warm! Ah, the group of adventurers are Elves.

“Even Vero slept with his sheathe cradled in his arms like child clinging to a doll.”
Ha, this stood out to me, very nice. This really shows just how desperate the Elves are. It ends shortly after they make their way out.

Well, I’m not sure why you’d be embarrassed by this, personally I found this to be a good read, and you do a good job creating this looming atmosphere, especially when your descriptions include musk and hugging by the walls of flesh. I suppose the Elves are unarmoured?

Anyways, thanks for stopping by, I will be putting your work in the Index soon. I am hoping to be able to make another example or story tomorrow after work.



Also, I just made a few minor updates in the locations as well as more info on the flesh beasts.
Those who come from the citadels are called Citadelians, those who live on the surface are Surfacers, those who live underground are Dwellers, Dwarves are Dwarves, Elves are Elves, undead are undead, demons are demons, mechanicals are mechanicals, and so on.

For example, my bio Kirby would be an Armoured Machine Surfacer.

05-Jul-2015 07:05:08 - Last edited on 05-Jul-2015 07:50:27 by Azigarath

Twelvegage

Twelvegage

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(( I tend to be very self critical, and judge my own writing harshly. So I often expect others will see it the same way I do thus my embarrassment.

Thank you for the kind comments, I'm glad I managed to convey the mood clearly.

The elves are unarmored; I figured a scouting group with that many members would want to travel light. Minimum of supplies, armor, and weaponry.

Is the temperature fairly cool on the surface during the daylight hours? ))

05-Jul-2015 08:14:37

Azigarath

Azigarath

Posts: 9,271 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
(( Ha, I also tend to be self-critical, I suppose it's natural for people who create literature. Honestly, if I actually lived in such a world, I'd probably wear armour all the time.

Daytime tends to be cool, yes, but, like in real-life, there can be heat waves. I will have to mention that somewhere. I envision the story to begin during autumn, but I was also thinking of chaotic weather, so there could be a heat wave one day, and then a rainstorm, thunderstorm, snowstorm, or hurricane the next, but we'll see! ))

(( Oh, and it's past midnight where I live, and I have to get up at five in the morning, so I have to get to bed pretty soon, but I'll be back after work tomorrow! ))

05-Jul-2015 08:22:03 - Last edited on 05-Jul-2015 08:22:51 by Azigarath

Zangaro1

Zangaro1

Posts: 338 Silver Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Name: Sangrio

Race: Demon

Gender: Ambiguous

Height: Non-physical

Build: Non-physical

Dead or alive: Dead

Form: Spiritual

Appearance and features: Sangrio inhabits his sword from before he lost his body. The weapon features a blade of twisted metal, with a jagged edge. At first glance the weapon may appear to be made of flesh and bone; however, it feels cool and metallic when touched.

Weapon(s): Besides literally being a weapon, Sangrio wields occult magic. This magic runs off the life force of his victims, which he feeds on as they die, and can be used for a variety of offensive purposes.

Armour and clothing: None

Equipment: None

Strengths: It’s pretty hard to kill a demon possessed sword.

Weaknesses: The sword itself is largely immobile. Sangrio is capable of leaving the sword to possess another object; however, he can only stray a little ways from his weapon. This means he requires a host to actually function at maximum capacity.

Psychology: Being a demon, Sangrio is not the most mentally stable individual. He’s power hungry and vengeful, and his best method of gain the power he desires in by killing others and sucking out their life forces.

Other: N/A

Background: Before losing his physical body, Sangrio was a combatant, skilled in magic and sword combat. He still retains much of his magical abilities; however, without a body his sword skill is largely useless.

History: Sangrio was killed in battle by another demon causing him to lose his physical body. Rather than finishing Sangrio off, his opponent dropped him off in the middle of nowhere, bound to his old sword. Sangrio now seeks vengeance on his foe… well as soon as he has a means to actually seek him given he’s a currently immobile sword.

Quest: Kill the demon responsible for the loss of his body.

05-Jul-2015 17:31:21

Azigarath

Azigarath

Posts: 9,271 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
(( Oh my, hello there Zang, I did*’t expect another person to appear so quickly. Now we have at least three characters so far. This Sangrio consists of a possessed sword somewhere on the surface , and who knows where his killer may be. I suppose whoever wields the sword also receives empowerment? Thank-you for posting the bio, hopefully it’ll be used for good purposes. ))



(( I also added a short story about my bio on page 3 to serve as an example. ))

(( Finished two new bios on page 3 ))

05-Jul-2015 23:02:20 - Last edited on 06-Jul-2015 09:46:50 by Azigarath

sword king

sword king

Posts: 2,716 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Sound of the forest

The sound is the worst. Most people, human or otherwise, who have entered the Flesh Forest and lived agree that the sound is the worst. Not the earth that bleeds. Not the eyes watching you from above and below, sticking out of the flesh. Not the house-high lungs. Not the bone trees, mangled in their shape as they tower thicker and thicker around you. It’s the sound in the air. The sound of nail to bone. That’s the sound of the denizens of this place. That’s the sound that they’re coming for you.

The hunter leaps through the trees. Nails grinding into bone, jump after jump, high above the oozing ground. Sharp eyes flash around, looking for prey, then picking a next bone. Four red-black legs ending in claws extend, a four-foot orange body stretches, then the claws dig into the destination. The creature pauses. An extended orange snout goes back and forth, a nose sniffs. An alligator-mouth with black lips goes open. Two rows of dagger-shaped teeth produce a sound not dissimilar to the sound of the claws to the bone. A red tongue flicks around the mouth, dripping with a bright yellow liquid.

Spitlings, they were called. For some reason, someone somewhere had decided these creatures needed a name, and couldn’t think up a better one. Calling them ‘The Creatures that kill from the Trees’ had probably gotten old. Not that it changed things. Whoever ventured in here better keep an eye on the skies, else the Spitlings would jump on their necks before they know they’re there. And that would end most life. Dumb as the name was, it described their danger. Their teeth weren't made for chewing. Their mouth hurled a powerful acid, that could dissolve flesh and bone in a matter of seconds. There were stories of Spitlings grabbing people around the head and dissolving the neck and face before the victim could scream. It was sometimes joked the name was only caused by someone yelling in fear before he died.

07-Jul-2015 22:32:35 - Last edited on 08-Jul-2015 01:28:11 by sword king

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