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Taj
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Mar 17, 2004
- Messages
- 226
- Points
- 16
Stapleton stirred, then opened his eyes. He squinted up at the sun, and realised he was on the ground. But for how long, he was unsure. He could feel a dull throbbing pain in his head. Slowly he sat up and observed his surroundings. Nothing looked familiar to him now. Unanswerable questions now poured through his head. Where was he? How had he gotten here? How long had be been outcold? The answers did'nt come to him at all. The last thing he remembered was heading towards a mountain...then nothing but a blankness he could'nt seem to overcome, no matter how much he tried.
He looked around the area. The river he had been once following was nowhere in sight, the rocky surface of the mountain he was heading towards was no longer visable, and to top it all off...where in the world was Makambo? Stapleton looked anxiously around the area, and called his werewolf's name repeatedly. There was no response from any direction. He suddenly felt a cold fear creeping into his spine. He did'nt know how long he was out, so to determine how long Makambo had been gone was unknown to him. This worried him greatly, since he had not been seperated from his faithful friend and protector for more than a few hours at a time. A full day at maximum.
He searched his belongings and found everything was where he had left it. His makeshift pack, the fire stones, his leaf type plate, and the large spoon made from bark. Giving a final yell for his companion, he decided to press North, in hopes of running into his wolf, or hopefully a traveller who could tell him where he was. He squinted up at the sun, and from its position, determined which way north was. His body felt achy from not moving for what must have been a day or two. He moved slowly at first, allowing his muscles to regain their strength. Before long he was walking with a purpose through the now unknown area.
As he walked, he tried to recall the events of the last day he could remember. A mountain...he was heading towards a mountain...but why?....Makambo had been with him...playing with the fish in the river as they went...a careless snap of a branch...no intruders visible...looking around...no-one in sight...Makambo barking, growling, leaping into the bush with speed...sounds of a struggle...sounds of approaching footsteps...starting to turn around...then a blank. Stapleton was getting worried for Makambo's safety. Angry at himself for being careless enough to allow someone to approach him. Allowing himself to be overpowered...surprised. He walked more quickly now, hollering for Makambo as he went....
He looked around the area. The river he had been once following was nowhere in sight, the rocky surface of the mountain he was heading towards was no longer visable, and to top it all off...where in the world was Makambo? Stapleton looked anxiously around the area, and called his werewolf's name repeatedly. There was no response from any direction. He suddenly felt a cold fear creeping into his spine. He did'nt know how long he was out, so to determine how long Makambo had been gone was unknown to him. This worried him greatly, since he had not been seperated from his faithful friend and protector for more than a few hours at a time. A full day at maximum.
He searched his belongings and found everything was where he had left it. His makeshift pack, the fire stones, his leaf type plate, and the large spoon made from bark. Giving a final yell for his companion, he decided to press North, in hopes of running into his wolf, or hopefully a traveller who could tell him where he was. He squinted up at the sun, and from its position, determined which way north was. His body felt achy from not moving for what must have been a day or two. He moved slowly at first, allowing his muscles to regain their strength. Before long he was walking with a purpose through the now unknown area.
As he walked, he tried to recall the events of the last day he could remember. A mountain...he was heading towards a mountain...but why?....Makambo had been with him...playing with the fish in the river as they went...a careless snap of a branch...no intruders visible...looking around...no-one in sight...Makambo barking, growling, leaping into the bush with speed...sounds of a struggle...sounds of approaching footsteps...starting to turn around...then a blank. Stapleton was getting worried for Makambo's safety. Angry at himself for being careless enough to allow someone to approach him. Allowing himself to be overpowered...surprised. He walked more quickly now, hollering for Makambo as he went....
Taj
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Mar 17, 2004
- Messages
- 226
- Points
- 16
Stapleton still did'nt know where he was, and after travelling for what seemed like hours he finally stopped to rest. He felt exhausted, desperate, and sad all at the same time. The whereabouts of his beloved companion was still unknown, and no sign of where he could possibly be upset him greatly. However, his stubborness (obviously from his Orc side) would not allow him to give up. Finding some edible berries from a nearby bush, he managed to relieve his hunger for the time being. The meal was small and unsatisfying, and Stapleton's current state of mind did not help matters any. He had hoped to find a village, or a traveller by now in hopes of helping him find his wolf, which was at the top of his priorities.
After some rest and renewed determination, Stapleton pressed on in his nothern direction. He would stop every now and then, sqatting down and listening intently. His accute eyesight picked something up on the ground just a few feet away from him. He crept closer and gently ran his fingers over the disturbed wild grass. From the way it lay, he knew that something had been dragged in this direction. His heartrate increased as he searched the area. The dirt had shown paw marks that seemed to dig and drag in the ground. There were also boot prints in the earth, which seemed to dig in the opposite direction of the paw prints. Whatever had been dragged, was obviously resisting its captor. Judging by the depth of the boot prints, the struggle was great, but the captor must have been more powerful, since the boots seemed to continue North East, with the paws dragging behind him.
Stapleton's breath became quick as he stood up and began to run in the direction of the prints. Hopefully the boots did'nt belong to some trapper, and although it was impossible to tell what kind of animal was being dragged along, the size of the prints, were about the same size as Makambos. He hoped this was'nt some wild goose chase he was on. As he ran through the woods, a cold ball of anger began to grow in the pit of his stomach. Hopefully, if it was Makambo, for the sake of the trapper, his companion was unharmed....and still alive.....
After some rest and renewed determination, Stapleton pressed on in his nothern direction. He would stop every now and then, sqatting down and listening intently. His accute eyesight picked something up on the ground just a few feet away from him. He crept closer and gently ran his fingers over the disturbed wild grass. From the way it lay, he knew that something had been dragged in this direction. His heartrate increased as he searched the area. The dirt had shown paw marks that seemed to dig and drag in the ground. There were also boot prints in the earth, which seemed to dig in the opposite direction of the paw prints. Whatever had been dragged, was obviously resisting its captor. Judging by the depth of the boot prints, the struggle was great, but the captor must have been more powerful, since the boots seemed to continue North East, with the paws dragging behind him.
Stapleton's breath became quick as he stood up and began to run in the direction of the prints. Hopefully the boots did'nt belong to some trapper, and although it was impossible to tell what kind of animal was being dragged along, the size of the prints, were about the same size as Makambos. He hoped this was'nt some wild goose chase he was on. As he ran through the woods, a cold ball of anger began to grow in the pit of his stomach. Hopefully, if it was Makambo, for the sake of the trapper, his companion was unharmed....and still alive.....
Kalamos
Level of Lemon Feather
- Joined
- Jul 13, 2003
- Messages
- 12,887
- Points
- 63
Lost.
Active Character:
Stappleton.
Your head is aching - and your stomach is hurting from the pent-up anger and frustration.
All you remember was you... and Mokambo... following a trail to a shrine.
Then...
You massage your throbbing head, concentrating hard to recognise your whereabouts; you were directed up-hill, west-ward, a few miles south of Bisanthium.
Or so you believed...
Just *where* are you, now?
Feel free to check the Tharagyan maps.
-> http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=14114
Active Character:
Stappleton.
Your head is aching - and your stomach is hurting from the pent-up anger and frustration.
All you remember was you... and Mokambo... following a trail to a shrine.
Then...
You massage your throbbing head, concentrating hard to recognise your whereabouts; you were directed up-hill, west-ward, a few miles south of Bisanthium.
Or so you believed...
Just *where* are you, now?
Feel free to check the Tharagyan maps.
-> http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=14114
Taj
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Mar 17, 2004
- Messages
- 226
- Points
- 16
Lost
Stapleton trudged blindly through the wooded area, his eyes red from tears of frustration. His thoughts, maddened from lack of food or sleep. Makamabo was the only vision in his mind. He had followed the trail as best he could, but his heart sank as a hard rain began to fall, destroying the only trail that might lead to his companion.
He had quickened his step, but all for not. The footprints had been washed away by the rain. Finally he stopped under a large tree, with low hanging branches. His breathing was harsh, as his lungs desperately sucked in air. He was shivering, as he leaned against the trunk of the tree. His clothes, soaked with rain and sweat. He would wait here, and rest for the moment, hoping the rain would ease up, so he could continue on this almost pointless journey. He hugged his armes around his mid-section, in a feeble attempt to warm his freezing body.
Finally, the rain had let up to a light shower. He looked out from under the branches, hoping something...anything would look familiar to him. His ears picked up on a sound familiar to him. He held his breath and listened. The noise was different from the falling rain, yet somewhat similar. Almost like a...hard shower...or a...he stood to his full height...a waterfall...which meant he was near a cliff of some sort. He began a slow jog towards the falling water, stopping every now and again to tune his ears to the direction of the falls. His pace quickened as the falling water became louder in his ears.
Almost in a blind run, he suddenly had to stop short to stop himself from tumbling head first into the water. His breathing was again quick and harsh. He spotted the falls and realized in a sudden rush where he was...the memories flooding back to him like the falling water. He looked up towards the source of the falls, which towered high above his current position.
The cliffs he faced was steep...almost straight up. The side of the cliff was scattered with rocks and wild sparatic growth of moss, small trees, and grass. Stapleton squinted his eyes as he stared hard at the cliff. The rocks seemed somewhat familiar to him. The positions they took on the cliff side stirred a memory deep within him. Something his addopted father had told him. The rocks told...a story?...no...a direction? "Come you naive fool, think!" he commanded himself. A map..."A MAP!!" he shouted, hearing the echos fade into the distance. From a certain position, the rocks told how to reach...something important...something about Stapleton's people's past...but from where? From where was he to stand? In the distance, he spotted a small natural landing on a hillside. Keeping the rocks to his left, he began running towards the landing...hoping to remember where he was...
Stapleton trudged blindly through the wooded area, his eyes red from tears of frustration. His thoughts, maddened from lack of food or sleep. Makamabo was the only vision in his mind. He had followed the trail as best he could, but his heart sank as a hard rain began to fall, destroying the only trail that might lead to his companion.
He had quickened his step, but all for not. The footprints had been washed away by the rain. Finally he stopped under a large tree, with low hanging branches. His breathing was harsh, as his lungs desperately sucked in air. He was shivering, as he leaned against the trunk of the tree. His clothes, soaked with rain and sweat. He would wait here, and rest for the moment, hoping the rain would ease up, so he could continue on this almost pointless journey. He hugged his armes around his mid-section, in a feeble attempt to warm his freezing body.
Finally, the rain had let up to a light shower. He looked out from under the branches, hoping something...anything would look familiar to him. His ears picked up on a sound familiar to him. He held his breath and listened. The noise was different from the falling rain, yet somewhat similar. Almost like a...hard shower...or a...he stood to his full height...a waterfall...which meant he was near a cliff of some sort. He began a slow jog towards the falling water, stopping every now and again to tune his ears to the direction of the falls. His pace quickened as the falling water became louder in his ears.
Almost in a blind run, he suddenly had to stop short to stop himself from tumbling head first into the water. His breathing was again quick and harsh. He spotted the falls and realized in a sudden rush where he was...the memories flooding back to him like the falling water. He looked up towards the source of the falls, which towered high above his current position.
The cliffs he faced was steep...almost straight up. The side of the cliff was scattered with rocks and wild sparatic growth of moss, small trees, and grass. Stapleton squinted his eyes as he stared hard at the cliff. The rocks seemed somewhat familiar to him. The positions they took on the cliff side stirred a memory deep within him. Something his addopted father had told him. The rocks told...a story?...no...a direction? "Come you naive fool, think!" he commanded himself. A map..."A MAP!!" he shouted, hearing the echos fade into the distance. From a certain position, the rocks told how to reach...something important...something about Stapleton's people's past...but from where? From where was he to stand? In the distance, he spotted a small natural landing on a hillside. Keeping the rocks to his left, he began running towards the landing...hoping to remember where he was...
- Status
