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Hey, Forumers. You had better find something to eat before night comes...



67 members have voted

  1. 1. What do you think about this new story type thing.

    • Really cool, have my reputation!
    • It's neat.
    • Eh, meh...
    • Nah.
    • I wish it would die in a muddy ditch, alone, without friends, family, or HOPE!

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(I'm still epicly confused about how this is going to be handled, Battal. I want to say i'm in on this, but i'm going to hold off until another roleplayer has been introduced into this storyline before I do anything.



Edited by Silentdarkness1
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Segment Four


Lord Battal stumbled away from the rocky area as fast as he could, one hand clutched on his side.  After some running, he stopped, looked around, and decided the coast was clear.  He removed his skeletal hand from his injury and examined it.  The bleached-white bone was stained crimson with blood.  The tallbird had sliced him sometime during their confrontation, and now he was bleeding profusely.  He had to get some kind of medical implements, or else he wasn't going to last long.  Battal looked at his bloody hand for a few moments, then thought, If I die from a giant chicken...


He collapsed to the ground before he could finish that sentence.



Some time later, Battal woke with a groan of pain.  Then, seconds later, panic, as he saw the sun was almost hidden behind the horizon.  "No, no, no, no," He said while rushing around, desperately searching for fire materials.  Seeing some grass, he rushed towards it and started picking it as fast as he could.  Right when he finished collecting it, the sun was gone, and there was only a little bit of light left.  Battal desperately tried to light the grass.  It was too wet.  It wasn't working.  Almost completely dark.  A hissing sound rang out through the night, growing closer and closer to Battal.  He was dead.  It was over -


FWOOSH!  The grass ignited in a burst of light, providing barely enough illumination to keep Battal safe.  The hissing had stopped, but a dark presence still remained lurking in the shadows, waiting for its chance to strike.  After some time in this stalemate, a voice began whispering in Battal's ear, so warped and ruined it was impossible to decide upon a gender.  It wanted him to put the light out, to find the wonders that the dark had to offer.  it spoke of the cool, night breeze, the feeling of floating, the beauty of the stars.  But Battal was no fool, and while the offers of beauty and wonder could have moved a weaker man, Battal was near-unfeeling for such things.  The grass burned on.


And the night went on, the moon creeping its way across the starry sky.  The voices became inpatient, more forceful in their demands to put the light out.  It had become a true mental assault, and Battal could feel his sanity dripping away like wax from a candle.  He knew he had to stay strong, or else, hallucinations would come.  Shadows incarnate, who would extinguish his fire, or even his life.  The shadows closed in as his grass tuft slowly burned away.  You will soon be in the dark.  The voices said.  Then you will experience the beauty... 


Then, when the grass was almost burned away, Battal heard a massive explosion far away, and then a crackling sound.  He turned around, and his eyes were welcomed with - fireworks?  Was this some kind of sick trick from Maxwell, a celebration for Battal's incoming demise?  But no - the shadows around him were just as intrigued as he was.  Another explosion, another flash of color across the sky.  With one final hiss, the Grue withdrew from Battal's location, and within seconds the dark presence was gone.

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