nobble
One Thousand Club
Background
As the sun slowly sets the large figure stoops down to pick up his fallen walking stick behind him a small animal watches him, if a little too closely. The sun's dying light turns the figure into a dark shape on the horizon. A dark bulky shape with small round ears on the top of its head. The ears twist around as if hearing some sound and the figures large head turns to face the small animal. It is a large round face its distinctive patterning in the shadow of the sun, a low grumbling growl can be heard as its gaze fixes on the small animal. Darting away the small animal disappears under nearby foliage. The large figure shakes his head slightly and then moves off heading deeper into the wyld away from civilisation, away from his pain, away from his shame.
....A young boy runs across the open grassy common to the small pond that sits in the middle of the village surrounded by small houses. He is laughing and chasing his friends....
....He bows to his sensei and drops into the ready stance attempting to feel for the flow of essence that surrounds him and everything else. There is nothing....
....He sits breathing slowly, eyes closed slowly feeling for that what surrounds him. Days have past for him yet he doesn't move. It is yet another fast for him one of many in the years since he arrived here at the temple....
....He passes into his twenties and his hopes of exaltation into the Lords of Creation, the Dragon Blooded, dies. He throws himself further into his studies, further into the strict regime, into the training, into the diet....
....It happens he wakes and looks over the dead in his temple, unsure as to why he survived, the fae attacked wiping out everyone else but leaving him....
....He moves to a new temple, new rank, new sensei, new studies....
....The world opens out before him he sees the ebb and flow of essence and can feel it within himself....
....He is honored, he stands in line with the others that have been chosen to join with the hunt; the hunt for the vile corruptors; the hunt for the Anathema....
....He spins away from the anathema, his arm hangs loose, but his distraction was all that one of the lords of Creation needed to finish the corruptor. He breaks into a smile as its breastbone is split as the Dragon Blood's Dire Lance thrusts through its back impaling and lifting it off the ground. It twists and screams before falling limp....
....He works his arms again, slowly building the strength back into it he continues to push himself to the limit to recoup the movement and strength in the injured left arm. The scar gleams redly, the trophy of his valour and the glory of the defeat of one of creations enemies....
....Another hunt and another pass successfully, he is called up more and more. He survives when others don't though he rarely returns from a hunt uninjured....
....He stands looking over his companions, his friends and his comrades of many a hunt still not understanding what happened or coming to realise that he now was what he until recently called Anathema. He, Chosen of Lunar, had help kill another Solar, and when he and the rest of the surviving hunters got their breath back, he was touched by Lunar. They attacked and in their weakened state they stood no chance. He turns looks over them again and flees south....
....He pauses by a river to take a drink before sobs rack his body. The immaculate lies were stripped away from him in that single moment. But it is only now does he realise that his actions over the last 10 years were nothing but state sanctioned murder, and not only that, that state caused his friends death. Caused him in his confused state unsure of his own strength to kill them. Caused them, like he would of only a few hours ago, to attack him, the anathema before them to save creation. How wrong they were....
The small animal darts forward and somehow leaps onto the large figures back. He spins around trying to get it off him, suddenly there is a small man before him who looses a swift kick into his nethers. The large figures eyes cross and the extreme sick-feeling rises up from his groin into his stomach, weakening him, draining his strength. The figure growls and throws a clawed hand out at the little man, who runs up the figures extended arm and kicks him on the side of the head. The large figure falls.
---------------------------------
Day of the Hunt
He kneels down behind the wall of the inn, his breathing is laboured and he can feel the tension rising as the adrenaline bursts around his body. Slowly he closes his eyes in an attempt to get his breathing and shaking hands under control, it is not the first time he was called up for the great hunt. He is honored many times when he is chosen before others. At his and many of the surrounding temples his face is know he is the survivor. How they would laugh if they could see him now. He slows his breathing down and seeks that peaceful section of his mind, seeks the candle in the dark that ever present flame within him that he can feed his fear into, take the shakes and slowly still them.
He wipes his palms down the front of his gi. Slightly damp but now he can feel his heart no longer is trying to escape from the front of his chest. His sword lies on the floor beside him, he trusts its weight, balance and durability, its never failed him even against the magical daiklaives of the anethema. Not that he has allowed it to meet one full on, but never the less it has served him well. He feels its weight again in his hand it is comforting, and his breathing falls into a regular rhythm. Soon.
A roar breaks the silence and the time to act is now. He surges to his feet, all doubts, all fears set aside, he is only focused on the task ahead. To his left and right are his companions from the temple rise as they were instructed by the Dragonblooded. Swords and spears lead against he filthly thief, the disgusting anethema, stealer of the moons power, thief most vile shapeshifting trickster, beast worse that then most evil of mutants and as vile as the infernals. Seiri is torn in two as we reach the beast, some strange mix of beast; a bear, boar, and a bull, wielding a large silver daiklaive. Teifer is the next to fall, his shoulder and arm cut away fromhis body, i stagger backwards as the bloodspray blinds me for a moment, and that is what saves me but not Hernous. He dies as he head sails over my left shoulder....where are they... my precious sword stops the creaturs next thrust I manage to just get it in the way of the creature's thurst, but it pays with its life as splitters of it pierce my chest, arms and legs. Struggling I fall, then to see it tower over me ready to finish me... no him.. me.. i stand over him.. the others fell quickly but this one took a little longer, he even wounded me, but no worries Lunar is with me.. -pain- -pain- i feel the pain of it entering my back and look down to see the spear surge out of my chest... i look up and see the creature.. to see me transfixed.. to see it... me die.. and me tended by the Hunt's medics....
As the sun slowly sets the large figure stoops down to pick up his fallen walking stick behind him a small animal watches him, if a little too closely. The sun's dying light turns the figure into a dark shape on the horizon. A dark bulky shape with small round ears on the top of its head. The ears twist around as if hearing some sound and the figures large head turns to face the small animal. It is a large round face its distinctive patterning in the shadow of the sun, a low grumbling growl can be heard as its gaze fixes on the small animal. Darting away the small animal disappears under nearby foliage. The large figure shakes his head slightly and then moves off heading deeper into the wyld away from civilisation, away from his pain, away from his shame.
....A young boy runs across the open grassy common to the small pond that sits in the middle of the village surrounded by small houses. He is laughing and chasing his friends....
....He bows to his sensei and drops into the ready stance attempting to feel for the flow of essence that surrounds him and everything else. There is nothing....
....He sits breathing slowly, eyes closed slowly feeling for that what surrounds him. Days have past for him yet he doesn't move. It is yet another fast for him one of many in the years since he arrived here at the temple....
....He passes into his twenties and his hopes of exaltation into the Lords of Creation, the Dragon Blooded, dies. He throws himself further into his studies, further into the strict regime, into the training, into the diet....
....It happens he wakes and looks over the dead in his temple, unsure as to why he survived, the fae attacked wiping out everyone else but leaving him....
....He moves to a new temple, new rank, new sensei, new studies....
....The world opens out before him he sees the ebb and flow of essence and can feel it within himself....
....He is honored, he stands in line with the others that have been chosen to join with the hunt; the hunt for the vile corruptors; the hunt for the Anathema....
....He spins away from the anathema, his arm hangs loose, but his distraction was all that one of the lords of Creation needed to finish the corruptor. He breaks into a smile as its breastbone is split as the Dragon Blood's Dire Lance thrusts through its back impaling and lifting it off the ground. It twists and screams before falling limp....
....He works his arms again, slowly building the strength back into it he continues to push himself to the limit to recoup the movement and strength in the injured left arm. The scar gleams redly, the trophy of his valour and the glory of the defeat of one of creations enemies....
....Another hunt and another pass successfully, he is called up more and more. He survives when others don't though he rarely returns from a hunt uninjured....
....He stands looking over his companions, his friends and his comrades of many a hunt still not understanding what happened or coming to realise that he now was what he until recently called Anathema. He, Chosen of Lunar, had help kill another Solar, and when he and the rest of the surviving hunters got their breath back, he was touched by Lunar. They attacked and in their weakened state they stood no chance. He turns looks over them again and flees south....
....He pauses by a river to take a drink before sobs rack his body. The immaculate lies were stripped away from him in that single moment. But it is only now does he realise that his actions over the last 10 years were nothing but state sanctioned murder, and not only that, that state caused his friends death. Caused him in his confused state unsure of his own strength to kill them. Caused them, like he would of only a few hours ago, to attack him, the anathema before them to save creation. How wrong they were....
The small animal darts forward and somehow leaps onto the large figures back. He spins around trying to get it off him, suddenly there is a small man before him who looses a swift kick into his nethers. The large figures eyes cross and the extreme sick-feeling rises up from his groin into his stomach, weakening him, draining his strength. The figure growls and throws a clawed hand out at the little man, who runs up the figures extended arm and kicks him on the side of the head. The large figure falls.
---------------------------------
Day of the Hunt
He kneels down behind the wall of the inn, his breathing is laboured and he can feel the tension rising as the adrenaline bursts around his body. Slowly he closes his eyes in an attempt to get his breathing and shaking hands under control, it is not the first time he was called up for the great hunt. He is honored many times when he is chosen before others. At his and many of the surrounding temples his face is know he is the survivor. How they would laugh if they could see him now. He slows his breathing down and seeks that peaceful section of his mind, seeks the candle in the dark that ever present flame within him that he can feed his fear into, take the shakes and slowly still them.
He wipes his palms down the front of his gi. Slightly damp but now he can feel his heart no longer is trying to escape from the front of his chest. His sword lies on the floor beside him, he trusts its weight, balance and durability, its never failed him even against the magical daiklaives of the anethema. Not that he has allowed it to meet one full on, but never the less it has served him well. He feels its weight again in his hand it is comforting, and his breathing falls into a regular rhythm. Soon.
A roar breaks the silence and the time to act is now. He surges to his feet, all doubts, all fears set aside, he is only focused on the task ahead. To his left and right are his companions from the temple rise as they were instructed by the Dragonblooded. Swords and spears lead against he filthly thief, the disgusting anethema, stealer of the moons power, thief most vile shapeshifting trickster, beast worse that then most evil of mutants and as vile as the infernals. Seiri is torn in two as we reach the beast, some strange mix of beast; a bear, boar, and a bull, wielding a large silver daiklaive. Teifer is the next to fall, his shoulder and arm cut away fromhis body, i stagger backwards as the bloodspray blinds me for a moment, and that is what saves me but not Hernous. He dies as he head sails over my left shoulder....where are they... my precious sword stops the creaturs next thrust I manage to just get it in the way of the creature's thurst, but it pays with its life as splitters of it pierce my chest, arms and legs. Struggling I fall, then to see it tower over me ready to finish me... no him.. me.. i stand over him.. the others fell quickly but this one took a little longer, he even wounded me, but no worries Lunar is with me.. -pain- -pain- i feel the pain of it entering my back and look down to see the spear surge out of my chest... i look up and see the creature.. to see me transfixed.. to see it... me die.. and me tended by the Hunt's medics....
