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FoxFire

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  1. “The twilight age of humanity is here. Nature has made an insurrection, and has toppled mankind from its lofty throne, and now the beasts have become the new masters. Everyone had a vague perception that the end was (eventually) nigh, but not one could have predicted that it would come so swiftly. Worst of all, no one knows for sure what happened. Legends say that there was a blinding flash followed by a deafening worldwide thunderclap so powerful that it shook the foundations of this very world we stand on. The thunderclap is said to have been the tell-tale call of the Last Seamstress - the supposed goddess whose golden thread of life holds the very fabric of reality together. The tale goes on to say that she was rendered aghast by humanity’s inordinate wickedness, and made the decision to travel deep within the earth to retrieve her gilded thread so that she may claim the misused gift that she’d bestowed upon us. Devastating earthquakes rended the land as she cleaved deeper and deeper into our planet. The ground shook for weeks, sending millions if not billions to oblivion. Those who had managed to escape the devastation did so out of sheer luck, or by cowering in massive floating cities, anchored fat into the stratosphere. When the destruction seemed like it couldn’t possibly get worse - the ‘quakes stopped. For the first time in what must’ve felt like an eternity, an eerie silence permeated the air. The survivors of that catastrophe made their way from their tombs, and with bleary eyes, took in the newly formed world around them. Almost all traces of humanity had been wiped from the surface, save for only the most hardy of edifices. The infrastructure wasn’t the only change mind you, it seemed that the woe the Seamstress brought drove deep fissures into the earth, splitting the continents and diverting entire oceans. Believe me when I say that it was the least of the survivor’s problems. Arcane power restrained by the Seamstress’ gilded thread had been released, causing anomalies of all kind to seep out into this shattered world of ours. It was first said to have been contained deep within the networks of caves beneath our very feet, transforming the beasts and fungi into something far more frightening. But like a miasma, it crept up through grottos, and polluted the soil. This is said to be the very original the the strange beasts that roam the wilds, as well as the catalyst for the rebirth of magic into our world. What’s that look for? I said this was a legend, didn’t I? It’s not like any of this could have possibly happened, that story is eons old. The world has always been like this, no use pretending otherwise. And sky people? They’d up and freeze that high up! Fookin’ A’, if I had a sky city...” -Olathe, Grand Artifex of Lud _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Legend or not, the world has been broken. Towering ruins of steel and stone dot the countryside, and what once were grand arcologies have now been reduced to thatch villages. And amidst all the destruction, new life is born. Towering groves of God-Trees and rolling meadows have reclaimed the land. The massive canyons that carve through the earth are teeming with life. But what would a meadow be without its sheep? Strange creatures now roam this new earth. Floating bioluminescent gasbags, Man-sized scorpions, hive-minded snakes twisted into humanoid form, and flightless birds the with size and ferocity of wolves are all some examples of what an unlucky wayfarer might find out in the wilds. It’s become increasingly obvious that most of these creatures are unnatural in origin. It seems that whatever cataclysmic event actually occurred brought a spark of magic into the world. However, little bits and pieces of the old-world remain Bizarre and exotic artifacts of old lay, strewn about, just waiting to be found.The world is in a transitional state between old and new. One may even observe situations in which chain-mail clad mercenaries will march beneath crumbling steel bridges to face off against a restless cyborg older than time itself. But the story of this wicked world is finished. This story is about you. You are Iggith, Daughter of None. In the language of your kin, your name means “The Negator”, but in all honesty, you’d prefer it if people called you “Iggy”. You are… A budding artifex from the Spire of Lud. Far off in the southern mountains lies gargantuan stone tower rising to dizzying heights in the sky. From the outside, the tower is a twisted mass of buttresses, arches, and suspended bridges seemingly leading to nowhere. The tower’s design seems like a combination of a stereotypical brutalist tower combined with several gothic flairs - gargoyles included. From within however, is another story. The interior of the tower is best summed up as the world’s largest workshop, twisted in itself sevenfold. Each of the numerous floors of the tower are crammed with laboratories, studies, production centers, and of course, innumerable technological wonders, both old-world and new. The few outsiders allowed into the spire have found it quite disconcerting, as they claim to feel growing disorientation with every step. Admittedly, tower is bleak and it’s philosophy denounces individuality. Very little of the twisted halls of the tower has been devoted to its inhabitants. Dormitories are far and few between, and there is very little in the way of recreation. There have been rumors that on a hidden floor, tucked away in some secret broom closet, there is an orchid garden with the mystic ability to aid in meditation and study, but it’s but a rumor. The Spire has always struggled with both agriculture and horticulture. Almost all sustenance has to be brought in from the surrounding rural villages in the lower hillocks. As a journeyman artifex, you’ve been tasked with learning about the truths of technology, both old world and new. You are to travel into shattered world and retrieve or invent a piece of technology for the good of the Spire, before you are to become a true Artifex and discover your greater purpose. So you’ve departed Lud, and set out scour the world for knowledge. Pros: +Incredibly intelligent +Possess knowledge of old world technology +Can construct and repair machinery on the fly +The mountainous climate has made you resistant to cold and low-oxygen environments Cons: -In pursuit of your studies, you’ve neglected proper combat training -You don’t understand the scientific backing of magic, and are unsettled by its effects. -You’ve only read about survival skills. A graduate from the “Grove” -- a sizable mystic commune settled in the western woodlands. The commune itself was situated between two God-Trees, trees that have grown to impossible heights and have since pierced the clouds. It was intentionally never given a proper name, lest even a hint of its existence escape into the open world. Creatures of magic aren’t held in the highest regard in this world. They’re regarded as daemons, deviants, and abominations. As such, those who possess some manner of mystic ability and wish to continue to harness that power must seek outside means to learn. Thus, communes similar to Grove have sprung up all over the globe. They act as safe havens for mystics and psykers to perfect their craft away from the prying eyes of the world. The commune itself consists of two segments. The first of which, is a sprawling forest clay adobe-brick city that surrounds and protects the twin God-Trees. Since psykers and mystics are always in short supply, the commune has allowed in a select few people to tend to both forge and field. They reside here. The second, is the massive latticework that intertwines the God-Trees, and allows construction all the way to the upper canopy of the tree. All those who are capable of harnessing arcane energy, be it psychic power or magic, spent their days here among the clouds. The Mystics responsible for this construction (who have been mistakenly dubbed druids) have also managed to engineer a way to burrow into the trunks of the tree without harming the tree itself by using a specialized form of magic that would “trick” the tree into growing around objects, or creating cavities within itself. Each tree has miles and miles of these carved tunnels spanning from the root to crown. You’ve spent the bulk of your life within these tunnels, learning how to control and amplify your abilities. Now that you’re of age, the higher powers of the commune have called upon you to deal with a rather pressing matter. They believe that a group of mercenaries and cultists calling themselves “The Häxprocess” have been locating and sacking communes left and right. You’re to investigate this matter for the good of the Grove. You’ve never been outside the commune before, and you eagerly accept this adventurous proposition, not once considering what dangers might be involved. *Unlike the previous choice, you’re going to have to choose which branch of the arcane you’ve gotten involved with. You’re a psyker, a child born with hair white as snow and the uncanny ability to tap into minds then sunder them with your dazzling abilities. Pros: + +You can tap into the thoughts of those around you and telepathically communicate. +You have the strange ability to calm animals of all sorts. +The commune taught you the necessary skills you’ll need to survive outside of the Grove. Cons: -You’ve never left the commune, and are quite naive about the world and it’s history. -You’re hair is white as snow. You stand out more than you’d like to. -You’re physically sensitive. Any other psykers are going to have field day with you. You’re a mystic, Harold. You’ve got basic control over the arcane energies filtering into this world, and can bend them to your will. This ranges from firing bolts of concentrated energy, to charging ice particles in the atmosphere in order to create a massive thunderstorm. Unlike a Psyker, you have no physical differences from the average human. Pros +Sir Isaac Newton can suck it, because you control physics now. +Did I mention you can literally start a localized lightning storm? +Because that’s something you can do. Cons -You’re a massive nerd. -You’re well versed in the knowledge of the arcane, but know nothing about technology. -You’re not as physically fit as a psyker. Good luck outrunning those beak-dogs. -You’ve got a fear of beak-dogs. -You’re a closet glutton, and will consume more as well as hunger quicker. *Note, as a psyker or mystic, using abilities will increase your fatigue. As a psyker, playing with the minds of others has a small chance to impact your mental state. You’re a vagrant. You’ve got no quest, you’re just trying to stay alive. You’ve seen the world in all its cruelty and realize that you swear no allegiance to anyone. You’ve got some choices here as well! You’re a barbarian exile. The plains barbarians are a nomadic yurt-bearing people known for sweeping through the world leaving destruction in their wake. But not you. You did something to anger those people, who have since cast you out. You’ve got to forge your own path without them, so you’ve taken to the road in search of something to fill the void. Pros +You’re strong as an ox. +You’ve got a weapon, and you know how to use it. +You’re a wayfarer, and don’t often get lost. Cons -You don’t know what the “old-world” is and you don’t understand its strange technologies. -You’re not good with people. -You’ve never had any education other than what your caretakers have taught you. You’re a dreamer. You were awoken by a loud hiss, and the cool spray of mist across your face. You’ve found yourself in what appears to be a sleek metal casket kept in a blank slate room. You try and get a clear picture of the room you’ve found yourself in, but the world is spinning, everything is spinning… You feel nauseous. You don’t know what this is or where you are, but you have to wake up. Just as your vision begins to clear, you hear the soft footsteps of Mother, just down the hall. Pros +Where am I? +Who am I? +Mother…? Cons -I have to wake up. -Mother, no! -No escape. You’re a rebel without a cause. You’re runnin’ and you don’t remember why. You figured that mercenary work might suit you, so with song in your heart and a weapon in tow, you set off for the nearest town. Pros +Zero commitments. +You’ve got some keen street sense. +You’re okay with sleeping outside, even in the rain. Cons -You’re flat broke. -You’re just some average bloke. -You’re well mannered, but you have the reading ability of a six-year-old. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Each of these fates have their own “sidequest” attached to it, but there is an overarching goal that you’re going to need to face. Try not to think about it, even more so if you pick “Dreamer”. That’s a nightmare in it of itself. I apologize for the atrocious text formatting I've used here. This post editor is not working with me today.
  2. Hey LI, I found an image that's most certainly yours, and I haven't seen it posted anywhere on this site. It's of this red-skinned woman with these wicked-sharp looking gauntlets, who happens to be absolutely annihilating her trousers. Mind if I post it here?
  3. Starting COBALT. . . failed COBALT has failed to start. A recent recent hardware or software change might be the cause. Launch COBALT Diagnostic & Repair (Y/N)? Launching Startup Diagnostic. . . Auditory Sensors. . . Disabled Optical Sensors. . . Disabled Olfactory Sensors. . . Disabled Kinesthetic Sensors. . . Disabled Artificial Cortex. . . Disabled Auxiliary Drive A. . . Enabled Auxiliary Drive B. . . ERROR Synthetic Heart. . . ERROR Starting Onboard Repair. . . Artificial Cortex Enabled! Charging Defibrillator. . . 25% 75% 100% Applying Defibrillator. . . failed - Severe Tissue Damage Detected Retry (Y/N)? Charging Defibrillator. . . 10% 20% 50% 90% 91% 100% Applying Defibrillator. . . Resuscitation Successful! Synthetic Heart Enabled! Auditory Sensors Enabled! “Stealing?! It’s not stealing! She swung first, and by international law of ‘fuck you’, that means I’m entitled to her kit.” “Still sounds like stealing to me.” “That’s because you’re weak, which is also why you’re never going to get ahead in this world. Now stop moanin’ and help me pry out her eyes. If you look in real close you can tell they’re cybernetic. Could you, just for a second, imagine what we could get for these things? We’d be set for life! We could make our ascent and get off of this rock!” Optical Sensors Enabled! Your eyes dart open, and you’re immediately greeted by several sights, each more shocking than the last. You’ve found yourself lying face-up in an grimy alleyway littered with rubbish and the occasional discarded needle. The sky above is overcast with blackened clouds, but you can see an unnatural amber glow through several cracks in the clouds. Looking of to the side, you see that you’re lying in a pool of something red that seems to grow larger the longer you look at it. Standing at the very edge of the puddle is a figure with some sort of firearm slung about a holster on his hip, and a pair of pliers in his hands. You can’t quite get a good look at his face, as it’s obscured by some sort of full-face rebreather. Standing behind him is a slightly shorter figure with an identical mask. Even though their face is hidden, you can sense an aura of worry around them. “Oh God, not again! She’s... still alive! I- I can’t look!” The smaller figure covers the lenses of their mask as they staggers backwards. “Jotun, please make this one quick! I still have nightmares about that d-dog.” The other figure scoffs and gestures dismissively at his counterpart. “Yeah yeah whatever, I’ll tell you when it’s all over, you fuckin’ pussy. You know the drill, go to your shame corner while Uncle Jotun sorts shit out for you.” As the masked goon ambles toward you, you can only hope your internal BIOS switches your muscles back on soon enough. You quite enjoy having eyes, and would prefer to not let them depart anytime soon. Olfactory Sensors Enabled! Goddamnit all. You’re going to die an unjust death alone in alleyway. At least you know that your grave smells faintly of mushrooms and disappointment. Jotun walks over to your paralyzed form, and tugs at your eyelids, holding them open as he clicks his pliers a few times. “I should really just cut these off, It might make-” “Please don’t!”, yells a faint voice from just beyond your peripherals. “Fine, fine!” barks Jotun, before lowering to a whisper only you can hear. “Ah, the things I do for that little gremlin.” Jotun resumes prying your eyelid open, and pulls himself closer to you as he inspects the socket. For a second there, you could swear he just winked at you through his mask. Satisfied with his findings, he pulls back, and forces the plies in close. In vain, you try to wince, to brace, to do anything other than just lay there -- but you’re completely immobile. You’re forced to sit there as this monster takes your eye. Kinesthetic Sensors Enabled! You feel the cold sting of the pliers as the metal just skims your eye as your nerves kick back in causing you to flinch and punch Jotun so hard, he flies back and slams into the wall of the alley, sending the pliers asunder. The sheer sound of the impact causes the other figure -- who had been dutifully sulking in the corner-- to jump in shock, and trip over his own feet. Sick of the view from the floor, you leap to your feet, and in an instant you wish you hadn’t. You stagger slightly as pain accosts you all over, particularly centered in your head, chest and abdomen. That bastard must’ve hit you bad while you were out. You push aside your tattered clothing and take a cursory look at your wounds, you notice that most seem to be superficial, bruises, a nick, a knot on your head, and a gigantic godawful scorch mark emblazoned on your chest. Huh, so that’s what probably stopped your heart. Checking look at your abdomen, but find no source of the acute pain. Internal damage maybe? You look at your former captors as they lie on the ground, one silent, one cowering. Time to- Auxiliary Drive B Disabled! Hardware Error Detected! Continue Boot (Y/N)? Starting COBALT. . . Welcome, Operative LYNN! Initializing HUD. . . Structural Integrity - Heavily Damaged (Minor Lacerations, Major Burns, and possible concussion.) System Integrity - Inhibited (Auxiliary Drive B Damaged, Synthetic Heart Damaged) Consciousness - Wavering Bioelectrical Reserves - Low Inventory - Padded Synthweave suit (Heavily Damaged) Bladder - Brimming... Stomach - Error! Ecch, you forgot how personal those programmers got back at base. You briefly wrestle with the idea of filing a complaint to HR, but toss it aside as you realize that the HUD is a necessary evil. With that out of the way, you can now focus on the task at hand. Well, task(s). The brass back home sent you here to inspect The Athame, a gigantic tower that seems to phase in and out of reality. But that tasks seems to have been briefly put aside, for now you turn to face the the once-towering figure with his back pressed against the thin wall. You grin as you clench your fists, and begin to walk towards him and- Auxiliary Drive B Enabled! Warning! Hardware Error Detected! Loading Personality Module(s). . . Backup 1 (Currently Loaded): DEFAULT.cbb Backup 2: DIVINYLS.cbb Backup 3: NEVER_OPEN.cbb Backup 4: EXPERIMENTAL.cbb Backup 5: ERROR Outwardly, you’re looming intimidatingly over the broken man against the wall with a macabre grin plastered on your face, but inwardly, you’re struggling with a needlessly complex system that should’ve been updated two decades ago. That blow you took to the head seems to have scrambled your drive! Oh, that is the last time I save my backups to an additional drive. The menu seems to have bugged out, and won’t let you stay with your default setting! You’re going to have to load in a new personality if you want to continue! Why did I name all the files something retarded?! Okay, let’s think this through calmly and- “W-what are you waiting for?! Do it already!” cries out a familiar voice from below. OKAY THE TIME FOR THINKING IS OVER! Backup 2 has a sweet-talking charismatic version of me, but that version doesn’t know anything about combat or more technical things. Backup 3 has a berserker version of me that’s constantly seeing red and can crush all opposition! Unfortunately, that version of me is brash, rude, and too crude to talk her way out of anything without accidentally causing a brawl, and doesn’t even know how to operate the most basic machinery. Backup 4 is a shy and unassuming version of me that likes to solve problems from behind the scenes. She’s a little awkward in most social situations, but can manage. Combat doesn’t seem to be too much of a problem as long as she’s got a gun in her hand, and technology is a breeze to her. Probably wouldn’t even be having this problem if right now if I was her. And backup 5? I didn’t save a backup to slot 5, but it’s letting me select it anyway. I wonder- “I said do it!” Out of time, better just pick one! Do I load: A: Backup 2 B: Backup 3 C: Backup 4 D: Backup 5 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Let me explain some of this mess before we move on. First up, you’ve got the HUD. It’s a jumbled cybernetic head-up-display that Lynn sees in the back of her head. This displays your current status and possessions. Structural integrity states the status of your more organic bits. Flesh, bones, organs, all that nice stuff. Pretty self explanatory. If one part takes too much damage, it might just fall off if the breeze hits it too hard. If that happens, you'll have to get a cybernetic or prosthetic replacement. System integrity states the status of your cybernetic bits. If one of your systems is critically damaged, it starts to bug out and function improperly. If it gets destroyed, well, you best hope that it wasn't important, otherwise you can kiss your shiny metal ass goodbye. Right now, your heart is a little worn from taking a hit, but your onboard system repair is working on that, so I wouldn’t worry about it too much. A more pressing matter is your Auxiliary Drive, which got scrambled as your brain-pan took a hit from a mugger. Consciousness is just that. It can be raised and lowered by time, drugs, and pain. If it goes too high, you’re a hyper-aware cybernetic meth-head that's bound to have a panic attack. If it goes too low, you might just black out. Whenever you black out, there’s a slight chance that Drive B drops its spaghetti and bugs out, in which you’ll be forced to choose a different backup. Bioelectric reserves is just a fancy and contrived way to say “stamina”. If it gets too low, strenuous activities become quite a bit harder, and you start to do things sloppily. You can restore this through eating, drinking, and doing hard drugs in an alleyway. Inventory is just what you’re wearing, wielding, and what you’ve got stashed in your breeches. Bladder is exactly what it sounds like. For Lynn’s sake, try to keep it low, otherwise you’ll end up with a mortified cyborg. Stomach is the counterpart to Bladder. It serves two functions, to keep track of everything you’ve imbibed, and to take care of “other” functions. If you don't eat or drink, you're gonna end up as a desiccated cyborg. Eat or drink too much and you might make yourself sick. As for the other functions... I'm sure you'll be fine. I mean, it's not like Lynn is a preschooler, she can probably hold it. Right? In terms of the backups, they’re just personality things. If you choose Pissed Off Lynn (Backup 3), you’re not going to be completely unable to reason with someone you don’t want to fight, you’re just going to be a little hindered in doing so, or do it in a way that might abhor Backup 2. Backup 5 is “insert your own personality”. If you’re not satisfied with my (admittedly) sparse personality choices, feel free to choose your own! If I like it enough (which I probably will because I’m easily amused), I’ll choose it and make it work! The background lore is intentionally sparse. You’ll most certainly™ find out more about the setting and your task as you explore the dreary underbelly of Heron. Or don’t, it’s up to you! If you have any questions or concerns, please voice them! I'd love to hear feedback. This is my first run of a thing like this, and I'd really benefit from and tips or cautions you may have. I really hope that none of you know anything about computer BIOS, because I made all of that up. I have no idea how any of that works.
  4. Not sure what the policy on COMMITTING THE DARK ART OF NECROMANCY on your own posts is, but I'm gonna risk it. I think I total of four people including myself saw this, and I don't really want to repost this just to get some visibility.
  5. So I rifle through this board all the time, and I thought to myself "I want to do that!". So I sat down did that! This is part one in a part whatever series. That means that if people think this is shite, I'll scrap this and write something better. Spell checking provided by Google Docs and several cursory checks by me! If you find any errors, please let me know, I'll angrily type at them until they go away. It was a generic but idyllic morning in the village of Dove. The dew coated grass had been caught by the dawn’s light at a fantastic angle, making every lawn near and far seem like prisms full of colors. Swathes of young green wheat swayed in the gentle breeze, watchful crows perched on the timber roofs cawed and croaked at passersby, and without a single thundercloud in sight, a gigantic crimson lightning bolt arced across the sky, striking a young blacksmith’s apprentice right in the forehead. In that very instant, the whole town stopped what they were doing, and looked on in abject horror. The farmers milling about in their fields threw down their seeds, and ran indoors. The beekeeper lost his concentration, dropped a hive’s section, and screamed in horror as swarms of extremely pissed off bees reminded the beekeeper with a blinding flurry of stings that they weren’t kept inside hives all this time for the bees safety. The Blacksmith was the most distraught of them all, as in an instant, he lost both his personal cook and his professional gopher. He buried his face into his blackened palms and wept. The smoke from the crater that used to be the apprentice cleared and revealed- wait, the apprentice?! Yes! The young redhead hadn’t been reduced to finely ground powder! In fact, she seemed to be absolutely radiating with health! Literally! An unearthly red glow illuminated her entire body. She blinked, and looked at her hands. “Unlimited power…” she whispered under her breath. Suddenly, she began to levitate! Just a centimeter or two at the start, but then to a meter, then two meters! Her eyes now crackled with a sinister energy, and with an audible pop, they exploded to reveal two motes of pure electrical energy. “Yes! ARISING THUNDER!” the girl cried out as she imagined a sick guitar riff blaring in the background. She didn’t know what a “guitar” or a “riff” was, but they probably sounded cool as hell. Her voice echoed through the village, past the hills, and in through the valleys, insuring that all mortals nearby could hear her call. She then began to experiment with her newfound powers. This began with simple science experiments, such as lightning plus cottage roofs equals “oh goddamnit, you set fire to me ma”. She then repeated this sick “experiment” with all the cottages, then the sheds and barns, and finally all of the crops. She laughed with childlike glee as she rained down pain and suffering in electrical form to all those who once laughed at her. Cries of horror could be heard all throughout the village, ranging from “You set fire to my-- everything!” to “OH FUCK, FLAMING BEES”. “Bow, to your god-emperor, Yvonne!” she belted out, punctuating the pauses with her incredibly sinister laugh. Eventually, she had managed to level the entire village, farms and all, giggling as she watched all its denizens flee for the hills. She was tempted to chase after them and start tiny fires in their hair, but then she realized that she simply could not be bothered. After committing dozens of acts of arson, Yvonne finally felt content. Except… Something wasn’t quite right. Besides the whole “Yvonne scorched the world”, something wasn’t quite right here. Then from the ashes the village pavilion sprouted a tall white tree. At that instant, Yvonne lost whatever dark power that had manifested within her, and fell back to the earth like a sack of lead bricks. She hit the dirt face first with a satisfying thwack! This knocked the wind out of her, and when she came to, she frantically searched her limbs for any sign of that sickly-sweet red glow from before, but the only bit of red on her now was the thin trickle of blood running down from her probably broken nose. She beat the ash-laden ground next to her in a childlike fit of rage before hitting a hidden stone, and recoiling back “Ow! Goddamnit! None of this is fair! Why can’t they let me enjoy this?!” She moaned, fighting back tears of bitter defeat. While Yvonne was mourning the loss of her power and the subsequent abuse thereof, the white tree called out to her. “Child.” Yvonne wiped the blood and vengeful tears from her face, and slowly looked up to the tree. “Oh, it’s you.” she said, feeling her face contort to an involuntary scowl. “Seek out the-” “-The petrified birch at the city of Kestrel. Yeah, that’s what you say every single time this happens.” Yvonne interrupted. She’d heard this arboreal speech enough times to remember it by heart. “Have you ever considered that maybe I don’t want to?” One she realized what she had just said, she immediately covered her mouth in an attempt to take back what she said, but the damage had already been done. The tree said nothing at first, y’know, like a normal tree. What had appeared to be a simple knot in the base of the tree suddenly parted, revealing a single squid-like eye, bulbous and terrible. The eye seemed to stare not at Yvonne, but through her. She felt her stomach drop about ten-thousand leagues under the sea as a strange primal fear began to grip at her very being. She couldn’t explain why, but something about this tree unsettled her. She tried to break the gaze by looking away and shutting her eyes as tight as they could go, but even as she broke eye contact, she could still feel the tree’s presence in her mind. Without warning, strange macabre visions began to flash throughout her mind. Her limp body hanging limply by a chain noose affixed to a white tree. Being bound to a white tree as archers atop a hill pincushion her body. Having a white sapling burst from her stomach in her sleep. White, blood red, white, red, the visions all followed a terrible pattern. Absolutely terrible things happening to her while the tree watched, ubiquitous to every scene. She flung herself to the ground, covering her ears, shutting her eyes, and resorted simply screaming to get these dark visions out of her head. She wanted to ball up and cry, but the tree would not relent. Enough images to fill a children’s picture book series when finally, a hollow voice echoed through her mind. “Child, can’t you see? There is no other option.” Yvonne could only respond with screams. “AaaaaaAAAAAA!” Yvonne cried out as she bolted awake. Bleary eyed and terrified, she drew several heavy breaths and frantically searched the room for any signs of that white spindly bastard. Finding nothing, she fell backwards and collapsed back into bed with a soft thump. “Just another dream, nothing to be afraid of.” Yvonne mumbled as she rolled over and buried her entire head into her soft down-feather pillow. It was at moment that she realized how incredibly uncomfortable she was right about now. Her heart beating like a tone-deaf drummer, and she felt absolutely clammy all over. “Eugh, gross.” she mumbled into her pillow as she blindly felt around for the source of the dampness. To her relief, it was mostly just nervous sweat, but she always had to check. Lately the dreams have been getting pretty bad. Not just inconspicuous wet spot bad, but rather “wake up yelling while sitting in a pond” bad. Many of these dreams had left Yvonne running through the village, red faced and smelling of terrified wee, off to do her secret laundry in the creek nearby. The worst part was, she couldn’t explain herself to anyone if she ever got caught. What was she supposed to say? “A demon tree in my dreams is making me wet the bed, sorry!” Yvonne tried closing her eyes and going back to sleep, but once you’ve seen that, there’s no going back. She shut her eyes tight, and tried counting gnomes in her head, but even the gnomes seemed like they were scarred for life. There’s simply no helping it, I’m not going to get any sleep like this. She thought, letting the pessimistic side of her brain reign free. With no hope for sleep, she let herself drift over to the edge of the bed and let gravity do its thing. With a thunderous thump she fell to the wooden floor, dragging the sheets, the blanket, and a single pillow off the bed and down to the abyss with her. Like a butterfly in a net, the sheets encased her and left her squirming uncomfortably on the bedroom floor. Taking after the mighty salmon, she then mustered up all the strength in her limbs to blindly flail around and free herself from the rat’s nest of bedding that had become her prison. After several seconds of blind fury, she freed herself from her fluffy prison! “I really need to do more cardio.” she reminded herself as she shakily rose to her feet. Feeling a bit wobbly after her skirmish with the bed, she laid a hand against the bedroom wall to steady herself. “Yeah, I’m gonna just… stay here awhile.” ~+~ After a minute of deep contemplative thoughts that only a good lean against the wall can give, Yvonne finally felt that she might be ready to actually get something done. She walked over to her closet, and began rifling through nearly identical articles of clothing. The dark gray coat, or the light black tunic? So much to choose from these days… The only thing that ever set her apart from a moving shadow was a mauve scarf that she absolutely had to wear, even in the summer. Everyone is still surprised that she hasn’t succumbed to heatstroke yet. After deciding on the “slightly darker than black coat and slate gray trousers”, she lazily put them on over her pajamas. As she walked over to the door out of her bedroom, she noticed her worn leather boots tucked away in the far corner of the room next to the door. She narrowed her eyes as she stared the blighted things down. “Not today!” she hissed as she kicked them across the room. She completed the act of a raving madwoman by throwing open the door, and running down the hall barefoot and totally prepared to take on the challenges of today. Despite her extreme confidence, she couldn’t help but feel like she forgot something incredibly important. Her 100 meter dash down the hall took an abrupt halt as she expertly turned on her heel right at the end only to be met with a precarious wooden staircase, to which she only scoffed at. She gripped the staircase balustrade, and with a mighty laugh, thrust herself over the edge as elegantly as possible. Yes, soared like a great red heron, and fell harder than a dodo as she crashed down the second set of stairs below the balustrade. Each single step greeted her with a nice whack on the side as she took her tumultuous voyage down the staircase. As she lay at the foot of the staircase, she felt herself all over in search of any mortal wounds. Everything hurts… she thought, hoping that her final thoughts might end up in a fantastic opera one day. One she figured out that she wasn’t actually dying, she took stock of her newly gained bruises. One on my knee, one on my- hey wait a second, why is my abdomen kinda feelin’ like-- OH WAIT! she yelled in the safety of her own mind. I never went to the bathroom, did I?! So used to the demon tree literally scaring the piss out of her nigh on every night, she never went to the bathroom at all this morning. Just then, she heard a door open somewhere in the house. Heavy footsteps made the floorboards creak like the house was about to come down. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, and Yvonne heard a sigh from somewhere to her right. She quickly got up and looked around, but could only see a short silhouette leaning against the balustrade right above her, thanks to the dim light of the morning. “Let me guess, demon trees again?” The figure said with barely veiled irritation in his voice. “Shhh! Don’t say it out loud! It makes me sound crazy when you say it out loud!” Yvonne whined from the bottom of the stairs. Not liking being overshadowed, she bounded up the staircase, three steps at a time until she was once again at the top and face to face with the figure, only to find that it was her master, Mr. Goff. “No, Yvonne, it makes you sound insane. Do you have any idea what time it is?” The figure said, making his point with a slightly stifled yawn at the end of his sentence. “Too bloody early for this?” “Too bloody early for this.” Goff repeated with a scowl and a nod. “Too bloody early for this.” Yvonne parroted back, wrinkling her face into a frown to try and complete the effect. She’d gotten the harsh Northern Gull accent perfectly, but the face could really use some work. “Hilarious, now knock it off, we’ve got stuff to do.” He said, rolling his eyes all the while. “Hilarious, now- wait, what?” Yvonne gasped theatrically “Wasn’t today supposed to be our day off?” “Hah, not likely. Where’d you get that notion from?” Goff said, looking up to Yvonne with inquisitive eyes. Yvonne may dwarf Goff, but no matter what, Goff always won when it came to a piercing visage. “But- You- Remember that thing you said last week? About how you, quote, “Were getting too tired for this shite” Yvonne said, perfecting his accent and lisping the s’s like he always does. “Ah. Yvonne, you’ve got much to learn. The life of a smith is dangerous, and fraught with peril and sarcasm. It’s a li-err, what are you doing?” Goff stopped mid ramble, and eyed Yvonne’s legs curiously. Only then did she notice that she was pressing her legs together and fidgeting periodically. She immediately straightened out and tried to act like she was absolutely fine. “Err, nothing!” She offered a nervous but reassuring smile to seal the deal, but she could feel her bladder taking the rest of her body hostage, and she was not having it. “What, did the ol’ demon tree put ants in your bed too?” Goff muttered just barely audibly causing Yvonne to scowl heavily. “Careful, frowning like that gives you will prolly’ give you wrinkles!” Yvonne tried to pretend that she didn’t care, but the thought of having her face resemble an old leather wallet scared her almost as much as the demon tree did. At that moment, she felt the muscles around her bladder spasm, and visions of her having to mop liquid embarrassment off of the hardwood floors suddenly flashed through her mind, causing her to wince. “Probably just kidding!” Goff blurted out, taking note of the obvious look of discomfort on her face. “I’unno much about faces. Anyway, remember that madman at the edge of town, next to Miller’s warehouse?” “Y-yeah!” Yvonne stammered, trying and failing to mask her discomfort. This really wouldn’t be nearly as bad if I could move around. “The one that wanted to, what was it? ‘Revolutionize the countryside with electricity!’ Well, he burned down his workstation when he poured some caustic crap over something he shouldn’t have and caused a catastrophic fire like the genius he was.” “G-great!” Yvonne realized that at this point, she should probably just stop trying to talk. “Yeah, and the best part is, he wants to start the whole bloody thing over again? Crazy right? Right?” Goff said this as he stared at Yvonne, waiting for a “right!”. When the response never came, he sighed and continued his spiel. “Okay, I’ll make this short. He requested 200 meters of copper wire, he’s already paid, and all you have to do is run there give it to ‘im, and run back. The parcel’s in the shop where I usually keep deliveries, simple enough?” “Can I j-just-” “No, you can’t just go back to bed, off you go! Scatter! Flee!” Goff quickly interjected. When Yvonne still looked unsure, he spun her around and launched her forward towards the stairs. Yvonne kept running after being tossed. At this point, to stop was to die. Because face it, wetting yourself in your master’s house and trying to blame the puddle on a spilled glass of whatever is basically the social equivalent of death. She treated the house like a labyrinthian dungeon, and tried to work her way through methodically and efficiently as possible. In her second mad dash around the house today, she came upon a closed door! Thankfully, Yvonne was a certified door expert and made the well researched decision to open it by throwing her weight at it at full force rather than turn the handle, because that’s just how she rolls. She leaped and angled herself so that she’d body-check the door with her side. However mid-flight, she realized that she probably weighed less than a burlap sack of feathers. This realization came far too late, however, and time itself seemed to fracture as the door rapidly approached. Yvonne shut her eyes tight, and yelled out “Not like this!” as imminent doom came forth. She hit the door at mach five which left her stunned and reeling. Suddenly, she felt something warm run down her leg, and she immediately froze. “No! Not after all of that! This isn’t how this should end!” she shouted out as her hand immediately shot down to her crotch and inspected the damage. It was just.. A beat of sweat?! “Victory!” She shouted as she threw her arms back -- and drew them back in after a particularly bad spasm made her double over to regain her composure. The urgency seemed to subside for a time, allowing her to concentrate on not screwing absolutely everything up today. “What in the seven hells are you going on about down there?!” The voice of Goff echoed from above. “Sorry! Just got a little excited!” She yelled back. Okay, the workshop is behind this door, let’s try this again. After surviving a near-fatal crash, she swung open the door to the workshop, and took a good look around, and surveyed for the package. “Anvil? No, not quite. Countertop? Nah, too heavy. Brown paper package on the countertop? Let’s hope so!” she said aloud, just quiet enough not to attract the ire of Goff. She nabbed the package, stowed it underarm, and threw open the other door in the workshop that lead the the glorious outdoors. She took in the the fresh scent of the early morning, bathed in the dim glow of the morning sun, then remembered that she was supposed to be rather urgent at the moment. Leaving thin wisps of dust as she ran down the unpaved roads, she sprinted through town like a madman was chasing her. It didn’t take long for the lungs to pretend they were on fire, causing her to have to slow down, and catch her breath. Left bent over and wheezing, Yvonne realized that this was going to take a lot longer than she thought, and the heavy package of copper really wasn’t helping. “I really shouldn’t have worn two layers of clothing for this.” She noted as she picked at the shirt under her coat. “I feel absolutely gross, maybe I should go back to the house and peel off first?” Then she remembered “Guardsman Goff” standing at the door, eagerly awaiting her return, so she kept trudging on. She felt thin beads of sweat run down her legs again, but didn’t bother checking after all those false alarms, so she continued shuffling on down the road. The sweat persisted, and also seemed to be followed by a quiet hiss. Wait a second… Sweat doesn’t hiss! Yvonne looked down, hoping for a different outcome --any other outcome other than what she was about to see. She looked down at the exact moment her bladder decided to usurp total control, and release its entire contents. She felt a dreaded warmth run down her legs, and with a startled yelp, she cast the package aside, and let her hands once again dive for her crotch in a half hearted attempt to stem the flow, but it just ran through her fingers and cascaded down her legs, darkening both her pajama shorts, meticulously chosen pants, and reddening her face. The puddling urine lapped against Yvonne’s bare feet as she stood there, absolutely petrified. She remained standing in an awkward stance until her accident finally drew to a close. At first she said nothing, the silence only punctuated by droplets of urine falling from the hem of her pants and into the the puddle below. She felt her fists start to clench as a rage she’d never felt before took hold of her. She looked skywards, and bellowed forth. “THAT FUCKING TREE!” And somewhere in an abandoned courtyard in Kestrel, a lone birch cackled.
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