Dystopia

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The Journey

The main seaport of Xexoria. Outside the city, brief sections of farmland quickly give way to miles upon miles of desert dunes. Among the cliffs and sands lie ancient ziggurats and structures, but inside the city lies ancient knowledge...

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The Journey

Postby SeditiousAmbitions on Wed Jun 16, 2010 10:34 pm

~~I have interjected a character into the 'world' without any history or background. This thread will serve as a means for me to add that information. Please do not reply. If anyone wishes to RP something out with this character he or she should PM me and we'll take it from there. Thank you.~~

It was cold at the top of the world. Lamashtu hadn't stopped moving for three days for fear of freezing in place. The pass through the mountains was not kind and obviously not suited for travelers. It almost looked like nothing ever crossed through here but the blood drops in the snow indicated otherwise. The deer had run away so fast, Lamashtu lost site of it almost instantly. Fortunately, he had made a clean swipe across the left haunch. The thing was bound to die soon or at least stop from loss of blood. That is what he thought yesterday when he had first wounded the creature. Here he stood, trudging along frozen paths in the middle of nowhere. His empty stomach coerced him forward. the air was so clean he could actually smell the faint and freezing blood on the snow. No doubt the harsh conditions made him a much better hunter.

The tracks in the snow swerved a few times. Lamashtu could see where the deer had fallen or tripped from long slides in the snow or big impressions but each time it got back up and pressed on. The elf was beginning to admire the animal. For something so small and simple to be able to press on the way that this deer had was certainly impressive. Lamashtu, a capable and strong elf was almost regretting his decision to follow the cursed thing up into the pass. Frostbite was setting in all over his body. He was wrapped from head to toe in animal skins and everything stuffed with dead grass and leaves trying to create insulation but it was not enough. He could feel the pins and needles of numbness creeping through his extremities. He could also feel the burns on his face, feet, and hands.

Lamashtu blinked his eyes a few times to keep them from freezing open again and paused to refocus. He had to blink three more times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. The wounded deer was standing ten feet in front of him. It stared at him with those big doe eyes.

"Looks like you have accepted your fate. I will not prolong your suffering."

Lamashtu moved slowly and smoothly towards the meal. The deer allowed him a step, then another, and another. One his fifth step, the elf was almost within reach. It was now that the deer moved. It flung itself off the pass. Lamashtu lunged but was not fast enough. He landed on his belly where the deer had been standing. He watched it fall into the clouds and disappear from his sight. Lamashtu brought himself up to his feet and started walking. he could not believe it. He had never seen an animal sacrifice itself. He did not think they were capable of such a thought. He grumbled and steeled his reserve. The spirits were playing tricks on him; mocking him. He would show them. He would show them all. It would only be a matter of time until he accomplished his objectives and then all would owe him. He glanced ahead and saw the pass opening up on the other side. The black rocks of the mountains parted just enough to reveal something bright and tan. Lamashtu increased his pace at the thought of being out of the cold and snow. On top of that, warmer climates generally had more abundant food sources.

"I don't care what it is so long as it's warmer."

Be careful what you wish for.
You should learn to listen to me; I'm usually right.
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SeditiousAmbitions
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Re: The Journey

Postby SeditiousAmbitions on Fri Jun 25, 2010 8:46 pm

Lamashtu pressed on with a much greater will. The heat coming from the valley had taken the frozen corridor of the pass and opened it up into a much more inviting hallway. The snow was melting away and the stream began to babble again. The elf trudged forward with every step getting lighter and quicker as the chill gradually left his bones. Lamashtu got to where the trail softened from a ridge to an actual path and paused here. He knelt down next to the flowing water and cupped his hand in it. It was cold and clear. He splashed it up into his mouth several times and then across his face several more. The elf rose and looked down the face of the mountain. He was completely exhausted and simply laughed. It was a sardonic and echoing laughter. The oasis he thought he sighted was in fact, a desert wasteland.

~~~

After three days of trekking through dune after dune of agitating, coarse, searing hot grains of sand; Lamashtu was once again exhausted. The desert was a strange atmosphere. In the day, it was so hot and dry that the warrior would often bury himself to avoid overexposure and to conserve what little moisture he could retain. At night, the desert became cold but just as arid. The elf would run to keep his body temperature up and pause only by the sparse vegetation to leech out what moisture he could. It was one of these breaks where his course would change. While chewing on the soft new growth of a cactus plant, Lamashtu caught sight of a strange building. It was something of a pyramid but there was something different about it. The shadows of the night kept the true nature of the structure from the elf’s vision. He finished his snack and took off in the direction of the mysterious tower.

His hair whipped at his chapped face and his muscles burned. The elf could not bring himself to stop and thus the true rest his body required was denied. This created only a deeper sense of will. Lamashtu had never failed at anything in his entire life. He had never even dreamed that life itself could ever be so difficult. Still, he pressed onward. The warrior covered ground very quickly. He found that shorter and lighter steps were far more efficient to cross the shifting sands than his normal long strides. It was getting warmer and the sky was turning a weird shade of purple. The sun would be up soon. Lamashtu increased his efforts. He had to reach the ziggurat before the sun came up.

Lamashtu ran to the base of the wonder before him. A single stone was taller than a man with his arms outstretched while standing on a horse. The way that they were stacked indicated some sort of concept of engineering. It was remarkable how old the structure looked. Lamashtu had no sense of magic but he assumed that without some obscure power or arcane methods, the building of pyramid would have been impossible. He was beginning to sweat and knew he had little time. Lamashtu circled the base of the ziggurat until he found where one of the massive stones had been worn away by the sands. It presented enough of a cave for him to slide under and avoid the day’s heat and the sun’s ability to dry out a body. Here, the warrior slept. Nightfall would bring the challenge of climbing the massive building to gain perspective and figure out where to go from here.

~~~
You should learn to listen to me; I'm usually right.
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SeditiousAmbitions
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