- Joined
- Jan 2, 2019
- Messages
- 131
You stumble across a bit of extra firewood. Another log or three wouldn't hurt right? 
Let's just grab it...and....YOW!
You fall over, face in the grass. A stone! Before you have a chance to recover yourself, you feel a faint ticklish feeling on the sleeve of your upper arm. Feels like a friendly hand! All of a sudden, it becomes a fierce fierce grasp. A clutch on your shirt, almost digging faintly into your arm. The hand isn't letting go. You feel hard and strong fingers, but slender ones.
You manage to crane your neck around whilst scrambling half to your feet. You see in closer detail an extremely quivering forearm, in an old beat up ragged shawl. Long, ghostly like wrists. You feel the living nightlights scared out of you in the commotion.
"EHHHH, where do we think we're slippin' to? This time o' night, who knows what might be out."
You see a man staring at you, still not letting go of your arm. Difficult to make out in the dark, he appears to have a faint smile. In his other hand, he seems to be clutching a lantern! Maybe he can help! But do I want to trust this guy?
"I...I...I - just got...careless!"
"I, I, I, me boy, let me tell ye"
The man loosened his grip a little, and his hand became still. It was as if, he were still holding your sleeve in his hand. He lightly put his hand on your shoulder affectionately. It was an old man, and he had missing teeth.
"You be careful in these woods. I hear some nasty Nerubians around here like to eat young men like yerself."
You feel still in a state of shock. Even though his touch is light, something is still just strange about this man. He is rather short, at about 4 foot 5 or so. But he still seems powerful. A thought rushes through, "Could he know magic?", as you try to hint that you wish to return back on your way.
"You know, -"
"Aye me boy, it ain't the witchies you need. It's this here compass from yer old pal."
The old man clasps your hand forcefully, again not letting go. You feel a rusted metal compass pressed against your palm. You yelp a bit,
"AH! That's my hand!"
You catch a little glimpse of his eyes in the dim hazel light, and you see his eyes are not focused on you. He seems to be staring off under your arm or somewho. Pupils extremely dilated, and his irises are very narrow and lower near his bottom eyelids.
"H-HOW did you get this? I thought he never made it out? Did you see him or something?"
The man loosened his grip a little.
"Hehe. Sure, he's right over there. Come, bring your friends."
You really don't want to. But maybe we can trust this man?
"Guys! Come here!" you call out.
The old man grabs a hold of your wrist, like a child. And he lightly nudges you along.
Let's just grab it...and....YOW!
You fall over, face in the grass. A stone! Before you have a chance to recover yourself, you feel a faint ticklish feeling on the sleeve of your upper arm. Feels like a friendly hand! All of a sudden, it becomes a fierce fierce grasp. A clutch on your shirt, almost digging faintly into your arm. The hand isn't letting go. You feel hard and strong fingers, but slender ones.
You manage to crane your neck around whilst scrambling half to your feet. You see in closer detail an extremely quivering forearm, in an old beat up ragged shawl. Long, ghostly like wrists. You feel the living nightlights scared out of you in the commotion.
"EHHHH, where do we think we're slippin' to? This time o' night, who knows what might be out."
You see a man staring at you, still not letting go of your arm. Difficult to make out in the dark, he appears to have a faint smile. In his other hand, he seems to be clutching a lantern! Maybe he can help! But do I want to trust this guy?
"I...I...I - just got...careless!"
"I, I, I, me boy, let me tell ye"
The man loosened his grip a little, and his hand became still. It was as if, he were still holding your sleeve in his hand. He lightly put his hand on your shoulder affectionately. It was an old man, and he had missing teeth.
"You be careful in these woods. I hear some nasty Nerubians around here like to eat young men like yerself."
You feel still in a state of shock. Even though his touch is light, something is still just strange about this man. He is rather short, at about 4 foot 5 or so. But he still seems powerful. A thought rushes through, "Could he know magic?", as you try to hint that you wish to return back on your way.
"You know, -"
"Aye me boy, it ain't the witchies you need. It's this here compass from yer old pal."
The old man clasps your hand forcefully, again not letting go. You feel a rusted metal compass pressed against your palm. You yelp a bit,
"AH! That's my hand!"
You catch a little glimpse of his eyes in the dim hazel light, and you see his eyes are not focused on you. He seems to be staring off under your arm or somewho. Pupils extremely dilated, and his irises are very narrow and lower near his bottom eyelids.
"H-HOW did you get this? I thought he never made it out? Did you see him or something?"
The man loosened his grip a little.
"Hehe. Sure, he's right over there. Come, bring your friends."
You really don't want to. But maybe we can trust this man?
"Guys! Come here!" you call out.
The old man grabs a hold of your wrist, like a child. And he lightly nudges you along.
