Personally, I'd like to see the guy who likened
the women of Metamor to Succubi to have to put
up with some "Succubus Womanhood".... 24/7! *snicker*
In all seriousness it would appear Furry TF
dominates MK and although that's favorable,
Furry TF Dominating in a Furry TF setting (I
take we've all read Paradise and saw the TG
Dominating there), I wouldn't mind seeing more TG and AR.
In my stories I tried to keep it somewhat
balanced... which explains some recent reveals about Malakai and Sargosa.
Great story so far, I'd love to see more of the
place this Noir guy goes even if it doesn't have
TG, but I'd love to see TG rear its head. Just throwing things out there.
On Wed, Aug 3, 2016 at 1:36 PM,
<<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]>
wrote:
Send MKGuild mailing list submissions to
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   Â
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or, via email, send a message with subject or body 'help' to
   Â
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When replying, please edit your Subject line so it is more specific
than "Re: Contents of MKGuild digest..."
Today's Topics:
  1. Re: MKGuild Digest, Vol 113, Issue 2
(<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected])
---------- Forwarded message ----------
From:Â <mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]
To:Â <mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]
Cc:Â
Date:Â Wed, 3 Aug 2016 13:35:07 -0400
Subject:Â Re: [Mkguild] MKGuild Digest, Vol 113, Issue 2
Nice story. Good descriptions and it flows along
nicely! Were there any other survivors?
That is yet to be seen.
-----Original Message-----
From: mkguild-request
<<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]>
To: mkguild <<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]>
Sent: Wed, Aug 3, 2016 12:02 pm
Subject: MKGuild Digest, Vol 113, Issue 2
Send MKGuild mailing list submissions to
<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]
To subscribe or unsubscribe via the World Wide Web, visit
<http://lists.integral.org/listinfo/mkguild>http://lists.integral.org/listinfo/mkguild
or, via email, send a message with subject or body 'help' to
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You can reach the person managing the list at
mkguild-<mailto:[email protected]>[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: MKGuild Digest, Vol 112, Issue 19
(<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected])
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Message: 1
Date: Mon, 1 Aug 2016 17:31:22 -0400
From: <mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]
To:
"<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]"
<<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]>
Subject: Re: [Mkguild] MKGuild Digest, Vol 112, Issue 19
Message-ID:
<CAGvZ7X=BYk0gTgBw+PT=M=5Ma4Z2CfQ=-LfMQB_A-<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="utf-8"
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,
<mkguild-<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]> wrote:
> Send MKGuild mailing list submissions to
> <mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]
>
> To subscribe or unsubscribe via the World Wide Web, visit
>
<http://lists.integral.org/listinfo/mkguild>http://lists.integral.org/listinfo/mkguild
> or, via email, send a message with subject or body 'help' to
> mkguild-<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]
>
> You can reach the person managing the list at
> mkguild-<mailto:[email protected]>[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 <http://aol.com>aol.com
> to the mailing list but not everyone got i! (christian okane)
>
>
> ---------- Forwarded message ----------
> From: christian okane
<<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]>
> To:
<<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]>,
<<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]>
> Cc: <mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]
> Date: Sun, 24 Jul 2016 21:54:29 -0400
> Subject: Re: [Mkguild] This is a story submitted by bloodonthewinds at
> <http://aol.com>aol.com to the mailing list but not everyone got i!
>
>
>
> Welcome to Metamor Keep my friend!
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> *From:*
<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected] [mailto:[email protected]]
> *Sent:* Wednesday, July 13, 2016 11:39 PM
> *To:*
<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected];
<mailto:[email protected]>[email protected]
> *Subject:* This is a story submitted by
bloodonthewinds at <http://aol.com>aol.com to the
> mailing list but not everyone got i!
>
>
>
> This is a story submitted by bloodonthewinds
at <http://aol.com>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>http://lists.integral.org/listinfo/mkguild>
>
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