I like this story, definitely a very good start to a very promising character. I like this Noir chap.
On Sun, Jul 24, 2016 at 9:57 PM, <[email protected]> wrote: > Send MKGuild mailing list submissions to > [email protected] > > To subscribe or unsubscribe via the World Wide Web, visit > http://lists.integral.org/listinfo/mkguild > or, via email, send a message with subject or body 'help' to > [email protected] > > You can reach the person managing the list at > [email protected] > > When replying, please edit your Subject line so it is more specific > than "Re: Contents of MKGuild digest..." > > Today's Topics: > > 1. Re: This is a story submitted by bloodonthewinds at aol.com > to the mailing list but not everyone got i! (christian okane) > > > ---------- Forwarded message ---------- > From: christian okane <[email protected]> > To: <[email protected]>, <[email protected]> > Cc: [email protected] > Date: Sun, 24 Jul 2016 21:54:29 -0400 > Subject: Re: [Mkguild] This is a story submitted by bloodonthewinds at > aol.com to the mailing list but not everyone got i! > > > > Welcome to Metamor Keep my friend! > > > > > > > > *From:* [email protected] [mailto:[email protected]] > *Sent:* Wednesday, July 13, 2016 11:39 PM > *To:* [email protected]; [email protected] > *Subject:* This is a story submitted by bloodonthewinds at aol.com to the > mailing list but not everyone got i! > > > > This is a story submitted by bloodonthewinds at aol.com to the mailing > list but not everyone got i!. I am reposting it > > Chris > > > Standing outside the gates of Komley, William Pernese shaded his > cinnamon colored eyes from a late March sun. The day was calm, making the sun > feel a little bit hotter, and even at this early time in the morning one > could feel that it would be a beautiful day. It's too bad the eighteen year > old man could not enjoy it. > > > > > > In fact he was feeling almost mutinous, seeing as he had been forced > to join this trading mission his cousin cooked up. His parents idea, of > course, to make him stop trying to join the military. His one dream, to fight > amazing battles among his brothers-in-arms, like Captain Kaltro in the town > guard. His parents, though, wanted him to become a glassblower. > > > > > > >>> A glassblower is not exactly exciting. > > > > > > Tradition, how he hated that word, for the second son to uphold his > father's honor and become an apprentice. It didn't matter how much pride his > father showed when William proved to have a knack for shaping glass, it was > what he'd wanted after all, it didn't matter how William felt. > > > > > > Looking moodily at his leather-clad feet in the sandy brown dirt, > William's sullen thoughts were interrupted by his cousin's loud voice. > > > > > > “We begin, gentlemen!” Betan proclaimed, spreading his arms in a > grand gesture William found over dramatic. “After planning this trip for > three months the time has come to make a small journey for big profit! In > just under five days we will be in the cursed valley of the demon-beasts.” He > took a pause to meet the gazes of them all, William last, “But fret not, we > will only stay long enough to make a bargain. After that we will all be > richer men.” > > > > > > >>>Not exactly subtle :) > > > > > > William snorted quietly. A soldier didn't need riches, he needed a > blade, good boots, and a strong arm. Patting his new iron knife, the young > man felt just a little better...And it really was going to be a beautiful day. > > > > > > A large man, the largest in the group at a full head above William, > spoke up at this point with a heavy accent. “Mister Pernese, what of this > curse? I have heard it turns grown men into children, warriors into mad > fanged demons, and goodly women into succubi.” > > > > > > Betan shook his head, “The curse transforms people, but my father > assures me that as long as we don't stay inside the valley too long we will > be fine. The people there are godless monsters, but they still need goods and > trade to survive. Apparently they can still reason like people.” > > > > > > “What about pay?” This from a pale thin man in dark clothing and a > hooded cloak to William's left. He was standing away from the rest of the > group a little, he made the others uncomfortable. > > > > > > His cousin smiled, though it was clear he wasn't very happy with the > dark man's company, “I have given you a stipend for supplies. As I said, once > the journey is complete you will receive payment in full...plus any expenses > for a celebration when we return.” > > > > > > The dark man only nodded, William stared at him until his black eyes > raised, and William looked away. The stranger made him uncomfortable. > > > > > > “Anything else? No?” With this Betan gestured to their guide, a short > fat man with a small dark goatee, who bowed briefly and scooped up his travel > pack. He started away, Betan close behind with a spring to his step, the rest > filing behind. > > > > > > William scooped up his own pack with his right hand and grasped the > pack mule's lead with his left. Trailing in the back of the group, he watched > the swish of the dark strangers cloak as he walked, thinking forlornly of his > room in Sorin and its lovely sea breezes. > > > > > > He hadn't wanted to come on this trip; it'd been his parent's > last-ditch effort to prevent him from joining the militia. Ship him off with > Cousin Betan on his first solo trading mission. Betan's father, Uncle Vince, > had organized the trip and given them the idea. > > > > > > So here he was trudging through the countryside with four strangers > and his headstrong, overconfident, butt-head of a cousin on a boring trading > run. > > > > > > At least the two mercenaries Betan had hired were interesting. > > > > > > The tall one's name was Dorian, thick as an old oak tree, but > pleasant enough so far. He wore only a simple cloth vest and pants, no shoes, > and a scary looking notched greatsword poked over his left shoulder under his > pack. His long blond hair and beard were uncut, which give him a wild looking > face, but his easy smile sort-of ruined the tough-guy he appeared to be at > first. > > > > > > >Nice description! > > > > > > Walking beside him was his half-brother, Haliard, who was a darker > shorter mirror of Dorian. Though the man didn't look half as wild, with his > hair pulled back into a braid and his face shaven, he looked every bit the > soldier. He seemed a very observant man, only spoke when it seemed important, > and otherwise was apparently a decent man. > > > > > > Then there was the dark man, known only to them as Cal, and he was > asked by Uncle Vince to be Betan's bodyguard. He was a thin, pale man with a > pockmarked face and shifty black eyes. He'd been the one who inspected the > mercenaries before allowing Betan to hire them. He was unpleasant but > necessary. > > > > > > The last man in the brown robes was a guide hired in Komley. William > didn't know his name yet, as he was only hired that morning, but he belonged > to a travelers guild who guided explorers as well as merchants to various > areas of the country. He hadn't seemed happy to get the job, though it > appeared that his guildmaster may have given him this assignment as a > punishment. > > > > > > All of them had been given a choice to join this expedition, for > whatever reason, except for William. Five days traveling with his cousin, > three heavily armed strangers, and an overweight guide who clearly wished to > have refused the position. > > > > > > With a long-suffering sigh, William pushed these thoughts from his > mind. It was looking to be a long trip. > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > * * * > > > > > > > > > > > > > > The last five days had passed far more pleasantly and quickly then > William had first imagined. Cal had begun to scout ahead for the group and > had come back twice to warn them of some danger. They had been forced to go > around it, costing the party almost a day's travel time. He rejoined them at > night where everything was broken down and watches were chosen. > > > > > > Being the pack leader, a fancy way of saying “the guy who watches > after the food and cares for the mule,” it was William's job to have last > watch, mainly so that things were packed, quietly, before setting off that > morning. > > > > > > Fortunately, the mercenaries were much more fun than it first > appeared. After camp had been set up they would share stories of their > adventures and the strange places they had visited. It had almost made the > trip worth it for William, who Dorian had apparently taken a liking to, which > also made a great deal of difference. > > > > > > Haliard did not seem to care much about his brother's new friend, > though the man would often interject to correct some of Dorian's wilder > claims or stories. The blond warrior took this in stride, pretending to have > forgotten or else admitting he'd been “trying to spice things up,” and never > did they fight. > > > > > > Betan, on the other hand, was constantly having quiet arguments with > Cal. Neither man seemed to have much like for the other, so when he wasn't > arguing, Cal stayed cold and quiet. His cousin had always been stubborn, it > wasn't a surprise to William that they had become lost somehow when Betan had > put his foot down. As Tradesmaster he had the right to supersede the others, > so they had been forced to go east around Midtown to avoid the crowds and > market. > > > > > > None of the detours or the fights bothered the youngest man, who had > to grudgingly admit he was having fun, but being lost so far from home was > not sitting well with anyone. > > > > > > The goal was to approach a town called Jetta from the southeast, > without passing through Midtown, and save a day from the trip. This did make > some sense, though Cal argued hard for a stop in Midtown, and they continued > on well into the night. > > > > > > > > > > Just after a stop for supper, with the sun already low on the > horizon, they had spotted a sign warning them that the boundary of this > valley's curse lay near. Discussing this briefly, the guide (who went by > Samual) spoke up to let them know that Jetta is very close. > > > > > > They walked for about two hours, the sun had set by now, and a light > fog had settled on them. With the torches lit they continued, met up with > Cal, then came upon the edge of a forest. Within a few confused moments it > was decided that they should stop for the night while Samual checked his maps. > > > > > > With the mule settled for the night, at the edge of the forest, > William approached the brothers for the customary story. As per usual all six > bedrolls were arranged in a protective circle around the packs. With the warm > spring night a fire was both pointless as well as dangerous, so the brothers > and Betan were sitting on their bedrolls, while Samual sat apart with a > hooded lantern and poured over his maps. The only sounds in the creepy fog > were Samual's muttering to himself. > > > > > > Cal stood a short distance away, gazing into the tree line, arms > crossed and tense-looking. > > > > > > Dorian looked up as William approached; he smiled, though this time > it didn't reach his eyes, “Hey buddy. Sorry, but there won't be any stories > tonight.” He motioned towards the bedroll and William sat down. Shortly the > three men were continuing a conversation they'd been having all evening: How > had they gotten lost? > > > > > > The conversation was fairly repetitive, not to mention boring, and > William's thoughts wandered aimlessly. Though this had been an interesting > trip, he missed his bed at home, not to mention the salty air from the docks. > Being lost now only made it worse and William realized how homesick he felt. > > > > > > Bittersweet thoughts of his family filled his mind. He missed them > all, from his stern but loving mother, to his father's quite smiles, and even > his stupid little brother being so serious all the time. He'd spent so much > time dreaming of being a great soldier that he had never considered what it > meant to leave home. It was this sobering reflection that he drifted off on, > frowning slightly. > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > * * * > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Soon enough something prodded William's side hard, Cal's cold voice > hissed from somewhere above him, “Wake up you miserable piece of dung! Arm > yourself and keep your eyes up.” > > > > > > William rolled over blearily, removed his hunting knife from the > tangle of his bedroll, and stood up rubbing his eyes. He blinked at the sight > before him. > > > > > > The fog had thickened so that the trees were barely perceptible; the > mule looked like a shadow in the white mist. By its motion beside the tree to > which it was tethered, and the small noise it made, the animal was clearly > upset about something. > > > > > > With the six of them standing around their gear with weapons drawn, > William came fully awake with a trill of fear riding his spine. “What is it?” > He whispered to Haliard on his left, watching the fog with wide eyes, > “Bandits? Wolves?” > > > > > > Haliard shook his head, but Dorian answered quietly from the other > side, “There was a strange noise just a moment ago...listen.” > > > > > > At first there wasn't anything to hear, then through the white cover > came a noise none of them had ever heard before. It sounded like wood or bone > being banged together, except it came very rapidly, a sound no human could > hope to recreate. Right as the first one died, an answering clatter came from > somewhere else, but direction was hard to figure through the blanket of fog. > > > > > > “What is that horrible noise?!” Samual asked, terror in his voice, > “It gives me chills.” > > > > > > “...Chills?” Dorian spoke barely above a whisper, just before another > staccato burst sounded, “Teeth...it's teeth banging together.” > > > > > > And it was, the mental image fit perfectly, but it didn't take away > the eeriness of the sound that continued to increase in pitch and number > around them. Time seemed to carry on slowly as the chattering quieted again, > everyone shifted nervously about for what felt like hours, then they jumped > as a loud scream split the air. > > > > > > “Look!” William pointed with his right hand at where he'd tied the > mule. It was now thrashing on the ground as if fighting for it's life, except > there wasn't anything to fight. They watched it, cringing slightly as it > struggled, completely transfixed. After a few more seconds it made an awful > noise and flopped into stillness, a dark lump on the ground. > > > > > > 'Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack!' > > > > > > > > >>> Oh this cannot be good! > > > > > > The noise came from behind them, making them all spin with a sharp > intake of breath, but nothing appeared in the mist. > > > > > > “There!” Betan shouted, pointing off to the right and making them > spin again. > > > > > > “What?” Dorian asked tensely > > > > > > “I saw a shadow, in the mist,” Betan replied in a choked voice. “It > was some kind of animal, a big one.” > > > > > > Cal snorted, “It's the fog, makes things look bigger the they are. > It's probably just a pack of wolves, or wild dogs.” > > > > > > “Wild canines don't make that noise,” Haliard stated calmly. He stood > between Betan and William, each hand holding a curved sword. > > > > > > “What does?” William ventured, his knees shaking. > > > > > > “I don't know,” came the reply from Haliard. William didn't > understand how he could stay so calm. > > > > > > “Daemons!” Samual squeaked, “Gods preserve this mortal coil, if I > should die let my soul be lifted into etern-” > > > > > > “Shut up, you sniveling coward!” Cal spat, “No god wants to save your > worthless hide.” He then sheathed his short sword to ready his hunting bow, > notching an arrow. > > > > > > “Okay, whoever you are, come forth so I can kill you!” Cal snarled, > “I want to see the whites of your eyes.” > > > > > > Silence reigned for several long seconds before the clacking started > up, seemingly from all around them. Shadows began to materialize from the > fog, a dozen shadows standing on four legs, each one was at least the size of > a large dog. They began to growl menacingly between bursts of clacking, the > largest of them stood opposite Cal, and they stopped right outside the > group's ability to make out any other details. > > > > > > “I told you,” Cal muttered, “cursed dogs.” With this he drew back on > his bowstring, sighted down the arrow, and let fly. > > > > > > William heard the 'twang' as the bowstring released, then almost > immediately a meaty thud, followed by a shallow hissing noise. He turned in > time to see the large shadow advance, to Cal's shock, and come within easy > (not to mention uncomfortably close) sight. > > > > > > The thing was the size of a mountain cat, though it was shaped like a > greyhound. That is where the nightmare began. It was pitch black from snout > to tail with very little fur, the body was bony and it's pitch black skin > looked oily. Where the bones weren't showing beneath its glossy skin it had > well defined sinewy muscle bulging under the surface. Starting at the top of > its head was a ridge of long stiff hair that stands up all the way to the > base of it's tail, which was long, ropy, and thin. > > > > > > Its face was the most horrible. > > > > > > It looked to be canine in shape but it was as if all the flesh had > been burnt off, leaving a blackened skull showing through. There were no > ears, just holes on the sides of its head, but two luminescent white eyes > peered at them with cold hatred. The thing's maw had no lips, letting the row > of sharp, yellowed, fangs be seen in all their terrible glory. Even as they > watched, transfixed, it let out a low snarl and began clacking its teeth > rapidly. An arrow protruded from the side of its throat dripping a thick > black blood that seemed to smoke as it hit the air. > > > > > > “Hellhounds,” Samual breathed, barely containing his fear. > > > > > > Terror seized William, he almost dropped his blade, he couldn't do > this. > > > > > > “Not a hellhound,” Cal said, shaking his head without taking his eyes > off of the monster. > > > > > > “What is it?” Dorian and Haliard asked in unison. > > > > > > “I don't know,” Cal returned through gritted teeth. > > > > > > Meanwhile, William's bowels felt like water, the young man was > shaking so bad he bumped into Haliard. The mercenary caught his eye, nodding > encouragement, and Dorian spoke from the other side, “steady there.” > > > > > > Dorian's voice brought back memories of the brief lessons William had > learned about knife-fighting. Though he still felt unsteady he took a breath > and shifted into a fighting stance, blade held defensively before him. > > > > > > “'atta boy.” The large warrior said without looking. > > > > > > As if frustrated with the distraction, the beasts advanced, they > tightened the ring so the companions had to stand almost shoulder-to > shoulder. Just to the left of the largest one with the arrow in its neck, > another one advanced further with a snarl, only to be snapped at by its > brother. Then the large one made a noise that sounded horrifyingly close to: > > > > > > “Mine!” > > > > > > Samual let out a whimpering cry of fear at this and dropped his > quarterstaff, instead opting to hide midst their belongings. > > > > > > Cal dropped his bow to draw the short sword again, making a 'come get > me' gesture with his other hand at the beast. He was rewarded with a low > snarl followed by a chorus of clacking jaws. > > > > > > Suddenly the thing vanished, without making a sound, and Cal had a > few heartbeats of confusion before the beast materialized right inside the > reach of his outstretched arm. He let out a startled cry as it bore him to > the ground. > > > > > > For William, time appeared to slow down to a crawl. He watched as Cal > struggled beneath the evil hound thing, grunting, crying out in pain, then > watched the rest of the monsters begin attacking as well. Many of the other > creatures...blinked like the first one, some of them just charged. It felt > like hours, fighting the beasts, being bitten a dozen times, hearing the > others as if far away crying out. In reality it was maybe two desperate > minutes. > > > > > > The end of the fight found William alone, buried beneath Dorian's > bulk as he'd tried to shield the young man from one of the larger beasts, and > fighting for his life with the same beast that had just finished off his > companion. Desperate, tired, one arm trapped under the strangely bloodless > corpse atop him, William could only gasp in the things fetid breath as it > tried to rip his face off. He had his only free hand around the thing's > throat to stop it from killing him, the teeth snapping so close to his face > he could feel the concussion. > > > > > > Just when a sob broke from William's throat, as he prepared to let > the monster end his struggle, a bright flickering light washed over him. The > beast above him froze mid-snap, its pale eyes looking at something he could > not see from his position, and it stopped trying to kill him for a span of > several heartbeats. > > > > > > A roaring noise followed by a blast of heat...then the thing was gone > with a yelp. There were several yelps, snarls, and other noises, before the > night fell quiet once more. William let his hand fall into the wet grass, > suddenly aware how badly he hurt, and stared at a fog-free sky full of stars. > > > > > > The flickering light moved, washing out his view of the sky, and > something very bright forced him to close his eyes for a moment. Squinting > up, William was unsure what he was seeing. > > > > > > At first it was just a bright wash of flame seen through his > eyelashes, then it...dimmed enough that he could make out a vague human > shape. It appeared to be a man, made out of rolling flames, the man was hard > to look at directly, but it had a definite human shape. There were no > features to the Pyre-man, but somehow William knew it was looking at him, and > he wasn't scared of it. > > > > > > Pyre-man kneeled in the grass beside him, the damp grass hissing, > then paused as it flickered briefly, growing dimmer. It reached out one of > its hands, plunging it through Dorian's unmoving chest, before William could > cry out in weak protest. > > > > > > He felt the flame limb enter his chest, it didn't hurt, and he looked > at the Pyre-man's face in confusion. The face was much easier to gaze at, it > had dimmed from a blaze to a flicker, giving him his first glace at its > expression. It looked...scared? In pain? Impossible to tell for sure, as the > fires that continually rolled over the features made them difficult to read. > > > > > > >>>What? Wild! > > > > > > > > Briefly, William felt something tug inside him, it wasn't a physical > sensation, but he felt it all the same. It was a very queer feeling, then > something spoke to him from inside. It was more like listening to thoughts > than hearing words, and also strangely intimate. > > > > > > <=Do not fear me...=> > > > > > > “I...I don't,” William stammered, “You saved me.” > > > > > > There was a pause where the Pyre-man regarded him, <=Drove them > away...they will return...no time=> The thoughts seemed weak somehow; they > were getting harder to grasp. > > > > > > William nodded, “I don't think I can move.” > > > > > > Flickering, the thing dimmed again briefly, <=We > are...dying...wounded...together...survive=> > > > > > > Swallowing hard past his dry throat, William shook his head, he > didn't want to die, “I don't understand.” > > > > > > It pointed first to him, then to itself, and shook its head slowly, > <=separate...dead.=> Next it made a fist, <=together...strong.=> > > > > > > “How?” William asked in a whisper. > > > > > > Pyre-man leaned in close, dimming further so his “flesh” became > speckled with ashes, <=bond with this one. Be one...not two.=> > > > > > > Whatever connection the flame creature had made was weakening it > further, causing blackened bits to show through the flames of its body. > Somehow, through the connection, William felt its grip slackening. Even so > his body was cold and heavy despite the proximity of the living fire, he felt > like sleep would be so blissful. He had to fight to make his thoughts connect. > > > > > > “Please,” the weakness of his voice scared him, “I don't want to d-.” > William swallowed, unable to utter the word. > > > > > > The flame being appeared to sigh and collapse inwards, giving William > the frightened impression that it had died, but as it collapsed it grew > brighter until a little ball of fire drifted down the flame arm still inside > him. > > > > > > He could feel it the instant it touched him, his whole body warmed, > then burned until he gasped in agony. It felt as if his very self was being > burned away, but the burning subsided into a comfortable feeling. He became > acutely aware of his body and the warmth spreading to every tinniest piece. > > > > > > Without knowing how long he lay there, absorbed in a feeling of > comfortable oblivion, eventually he was forced to surface from the bonding. > He felt decidedly strange, sort of disconnected from, yet still bound to, the > waking world. > > > > > > He kept getting disparate flashes of memories, both being his own > somehow, and he could not untangle them. Trying to puzzle them out gave him a > headache, he spent long seconds trying to recall what a headache was and when > he'd last had one. With his mind foggy, putting the wondering on hold, he > turned his attention to his aching body. > > > > > > Vaguely, he remembered the man named Dorian atop him. Images came to > him, the blond man grinning widely, stories shared by firelight. Sorrow > claimed him at the same time as curiosity as to why this human had been so > important. Wiping his face, his fingers came away damp...how odd. > > > > > > He regretted having to shove and wiggle his way out from under the > corpse, then lay in the scorched grass for a bit to gather his strength. He > felt this was very inefficient but, as there was not a nice hot fire nearby, > he stood up eventually to look around. > > > > > > He stood in a patch of burnt grass beside a dead man, who was > currently smoldering, and there were three other corpses nearby as well. > Something about those four dead men bothered him; he could not think what, > though he supposed if it had been important, he'd remember. > > > > > > Instead he searched through the trampled bags in the center of the > area to find a large bag of trailfood, a handful of golden metal discs, a > small fragrant leather pouch that seemed important, and a wooden chest > slightly bigger than his outstretched hand. These things he gathered into a > haphazard bundle, swung them over his shoulder, and began to walk away into > the woods. > > > > > > > > > > > > > > * * * > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Days passed in a sort of blurry fog. The man didn't think he was > particularly injured, but it was as if he had two conflicting thoughts about > everything. Like catching himself staring at a perfectly normal tree in > complete confusion one day. These moments were disturbing, to say the least, > so he did his best not to think about them too much. Luckily time appeared to > help his condition, as these moments of conflict grew shorter in duration and > strength. > > > > > > At one point he felt a strange...something settle over him, causing > him to panic. Running didn't seem to make a difference; he didn't know what > it was, though it made him afraid as well as uncomfortable. Whatever it was > didn't ebb or go away, it clung to him like cobwebs, and it was a constant > presence. > > > > > > Over the next week he felt random pains, particularly in his joints, > as well as bouts of itchy patches on his skin. He knew he was transforming; > he couldn't miss the thick soft black hair on his arms, or the way the lower > half of his face slowly pushed out. He'd ditched his damaged shoes a while > back after they stopped fitting properly; eventually his shirt went, too, > after it became more of a nuisance to wear. > > > > > > Growing tired easily was also a problem; he was running low on food > despite the foraging he'd done since starting this venture, so he often had > to take a seat for an afternoon doze. It was in one of these dozes, lying > with his back against a tree, that he heard a voice. At first he thought it > was one of the nightmares he suffered, before waking, but this voice sounded > way too polite for such a thing. Upon opening his eyes he came face-to-face > with a dark brown reptilian head with copper colored eyes looking right at > him. > > > > > > He let out a manly scream of shock, shoving the packs, much lighter > now, at the gargantuan snake. > > > > > > Letting out a noticeably human scream of surprise of its own, the > snake reared back itself, raising its arms to protect its face. > > > > > > Arms? > > > > > > The partially transformed man stared up from his spot on the ground, > leaning back on his hands with his legs splayed before him, eyeing the > half-human half-serpent. It seemed to be doing the very same thing. > > > > > > “What?” He asked, intelligently, his voice a rasping croak from > disuse. > > > > > > “What?” The snake lowers its arms, seemingly confused. Fourteen feet > long from nose to blunt tail, it was mostly covered in small tightly packed > brown scales the color of milk chocolate, with its broad under-scales a light > creamy yellow. It wore a skirt-like dark orange cloth around its middle where > the waist would be on a person with a single strap holding it up over one > shoulder. Strapped around the top of the garment was a medium sized pack > resting against its spine. > > > > > > “I'm sorry if I scared you,” snake-man said, ”I was passing by and > saw you lying here....I thought you might be hurt.” > > > > > > He stared up at the thing for a second before responding, “Are you a > cursed human?” > > > > > > It paused for a few seconds, a forked black tongue popped from its > mouth briefly, “Yes. I was a cursed human, but I'd prefer the term 'morphed' > to 'cursed.' It's more polite.” Softening his posture, the snake morph > offered a hand to help the man up. > > > > > > A moment passed where he sighed, then took the snake's cool, dry, > hand and accepted help to his feet. They both mutually, silently, gathered > the scattered items and replace them into a manageable bundle. After that > they stared at each other in a sort of embarrassed moment of quiet. > > > > > > Breaking the moment by rubbing the back of his scaled head, the snake > spoke first, “Listen...this is an awkward question but you do know you're > partially transformed yourself? It looks like you've been out here for a > while, the cur-I mean transformation, is already pretty far along.” > > > > > > He looked down at himself with a frown. > > > > > > His legs and feet had already mostly finished becoming digitigrade as > well as being covered in long black hair. All except for the bottom of his > feet, which were tipped with very bright orange fur. His hands were mostly > normal but they, too, had begun showing signs of growing thick black pads. > His torso was in various stages, sort of like a patchwork, of conversion as > there were places one could still see pale skin beneath. A tiny tail-nub > poked out over the top of his breeches, covered in orange-tipped fur duskier > that that on his feet flowed all the way up his back and across both > shoulders. > > > > > > >>> One small comment. Might want to describe what ditigrade is. > > > > > > > > Strangest of all, his head had transformed in a patchwork manner, > giving him a sort of frightening visage. The top right half of his face still > appeared human, with one cinnamon colored eye, a shock of wheat hair, and an > ear still apparent. The rest of his face was in transition, though. One > triangular ear, somewhat stunted, was almost to the top of his head. His > muzzle had already started showing itself. His nose changed by flattening > out, his teeth becoming larger, and his left eye had gone a shocking shade of > bright green. > > > > > > “It doesn't matter,” he gave a shuddering sigh. > > > > > > Concerned, the snake man reached out, patted his shoulder, then > looked curiously at his own hand. He then placed his hand on the man's > forehead, “You're burning up!” > > > > > > Confused, he put his own hand to his head, “Really? I feel fine.” His > stomach chose this moment to growl very loudly. The blush could still be seen > on the human side of his face. > > > > > > The snake regarded him a moment, tongue flicking out, “Here.” He > reached behind him, his head rotating inhumanly (if that word could even > apply anymore). He soon produced a package wrapped in paper. Undoing the > twine revealed a sort of large meat pasty wrapped in cabbage leaves. > > > > > > Offering the food, the snake nodded, “I was saving this for > tomorrow's lunch but...I think I should get you to a healer.” > > > > > > Sheepishly taking the bundle, the young man dug into the pasty before > answering, “Thanks.” > > > > > > Regarding him curiously again, the snake placed its hands on its > hip-area, “Well maybe its just me being cold-blooded but...I still think you > should come to the keep. I can tell you from experience, it will be easier if > you can see others like us. It helps to know you can still be happy. Besides, > we're supposed to bring lost morphs we find to the keep, to get them sorted.” > > > > > > “I suppose I don't have many other choices, do I?” He asked, offering > back the half-eaten pasty, “You can finish it. I don't want to eat all of > your lunch.” > > > > > > “No!” The snaked waved him off, “No, you're fine! I'll go hunting > tonight for us; you can finish that while we walk.” With this he turned > swiftly and literally started to slither away. > > > > > > Hustling a bit, the man catches up, careful not to step on the > snake's large tail. They made steady pace through the trees, headed north, > both of them rather quiet for a time. It didn't take too long before he was > finished with the pasty, unconsciously running a large tongue over his lips > to sweep up crumbs. > > > > > > “So,” the snake asked suddenly, “What is your name? Mine is > Psylaphen.” > > > > > > “I-” he paused, unsure, “I don't remember.” This was only partially a > lie, as he could remember being called William, but he was also > > called something else, too. Trying to reconcile both sets of memories often > left him confused and sad, so instead he'd chosen to be someone new. > > > > > > “Hmm,” Psylaphen mused, eyeing him. “Well, as most of the others come > to the keep on a stretcher, I guess you can count yourself lucky.” As he > spoke he slid right over a fallen tree, which the former human had to walk > around. Upon seeing his crestfallen face on the other side, the snake bowed > its head slightly. “Sorry. I don't mean to make fun of you.” > > > > > > The man shook his head. > > > > > > “Well,” Psylaphen began, rubbing the scales at his throat, “would it > be rude if I gave you a name? At least until you remember yours,” he amended > quickly. > > > > > > Meeting those slitted pupils, the former William gave a weak smile. > > > > > > “How about,” Psylaphen looked him up and down a little, then pointed > at him with a triumphant nod, “Noir?” > > > > > > “Nwar?” He scrunched up his brows. > > > > > > “N-O-I-R,” the serpent spelled out, “I read it in a book at the keep > once. It mean's 'black' in another language.” > > > > > > Looking down at himself, he let out half a chuckle, “You'd literally > name me for my fur?” It was a strange thing, to have to consider a name for > yourself, but given everything that had happened so far...maybe something so > simple and exotic was just what he needed. > > > > > > “It was a first attempt!” Psylaphen said, somewhat defensively, “Give > me-” > > > > > > “I like it,” he decided. “It fits.” > > > > > > Taken aback, the reptile reared up a bit, then dipped down in a small > bow. “Well, Noir,” he says with amusement in his voice, “It's nice to meet > you.” > > > > > > Bowing back stiffly, Noir matched the smile heard in the snake's > voice, “Nice to meet you, Psylaphen.” > > > > > > “You can call me Syl,” he explained. “Come on. We have a long trail > ahead.” > > > > > > As Syl the snake morph started to glide off, the newly dubbed Noir > took a deep breath of warm air. Letting it out slowly, he allowed some of the > tension bleed away. He was alive, he wasn't alone, and he didn't have to > focus on things before the bonding for a time. Starting anew felt right, a > new chapter to start... > > > > > > A new chapter at Metamor Keep. > > > > > > >>>Nice story. Good descriptions and it flows along nicely! Were there any > >>>other survivors? > > > > > > Chris > > The Lurking Fox > > MK Controller > > > > > > ------------------------------ > > More information about the MKGuild mailing list > <http://lists.integral.org/listinfo/mkguild> > > _______________________________________________ > MKGuild mailing list > [email protected] > http://lists.integral.org/listinfo/mkguild > >
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