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Long nights and short days

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#1Noel 
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Long nights and short days  Empty Wed Mar 08, 2017 2:53 pm

Noel


Maarschalk
Oak > Era








Who am I.

An after image of a man blimped from the corner of a mirror. Thoughts rushed to the surface; fabricated thoughts -- perhaps the safest way to go on about this situation was to assume that a mistake in the matrix had finally been found.

But no.

There was no mistake in the matrix.

The nights of Oak were interesting; people were more into alcohol than he could determine from other places -- more into drugs too, Oak didn't seem out of the ordinary until he saw a man run around in his birthday suit. Even if the man was a seasoned troubadour; a professional stranger; a wanderer, this city still stuck out like a sore thumb.

After having accomplished his tasks there was no motif for Maarschalk to remain. Packing up a few bags and using his back as a support to carry those bags was not the tricky part.

The tricky part was saying good bye;

But there was no- one to say good bye to. Leaving this place, this rotten place, was not difficult. The only thing that this place has compared to other cities is the social stigma of doing something 'good', whatever that meant. Maarschalks interpretation was that the forces of evil that lurked within the shadows of this city were quietly running the show behind the scenes.

It is not unusual for an alignment of evil or good to take complete control over a town -- the strange part about it was that in this town there was no opposing side; 'good' is completely eradicated in Oak. For every corner on the streets was occupied or watched by an agent.

Even causing a ruckus drew the eye of many mysterious figures. Perhaps this town was just edgy; or the forces of evil had completely covered it. There was no motif for the man to find out what the origin of the evil was.

Maarschalk set way point to Era. The city of 'holy', whatever god they believed in was a false one. Being alone for most of his travels was not very unusual for an individual like Maarschalk -- he used to travel a lot with his children; show them the 'beautiful' sides of life before showing them the bad sides. Whether that had a deep impact on their growth still remains unclear. He had not seen them in a few months -- maybe a visit to the League of Shadows was a good idea.

Amidst his travel, he came across a lake - it seemed translucent from the surface, but after sticking his hand in the water it was opaque. This lake had strange and interesting capabilities.

After he left the lake he was at the middle of his journey. Around the forest of Woodsea he trekked from place to place. The nights were long and the days were short.

Hunting for supper was not his favorite activity - but in a land, such as this one he was force to kill or die. Capturing an animal with his bare fists was not an easy task; considering his speed and the speed of many other animals. He was but an amateur in the animal kingdom; a beginner - but he had the mind of a hunter. And this was supposed to carry him. The mental effort he put into his hunt worked and he got lots of suppers doing the same thing that worked over and over again. He pretty much just climbed a tree and waited for animals to come close to it; let himself fall off of the tree and crush an animal with his weight. Since he was a big guy, for you, he could pull it off whilst also not killing himself which proved to be quite the feat. Doing this with his endurance resulted in no damage being received by doing this. Making a meal in the wild was one of the things he was motivated for; seeing all those shows about survival men made him quite lusty - but as it turned out most of the meat he consumed in the wild tasted like shit anyway. Maybe it was better this way, staying in the woods. But after a few days of surviving he begun to yearn after civilization again - truly he was a social being that missed the company of others.

His memories begun to fade the closer he came to Era. Like a sickness, a dark spirit grew over him and sapped him of his energy without him realizing. Travelers fatigue was a real thing - even those who sit in a train all day can feel the same fatigue that Maarschalk thought he felt. Instead the dark mojo that had corrupted his state of well-being didn't publicly announce its intentions. First, he begun to sweat; noises he begun to hear -- eventually he could hear his ears ringing. Then it all became black and he passed out.

//exit to Era

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