Quote:
Originally posted by Larry_OHF:
The Undead Grimlock Army Advanced ~Events that occurred days ago.
Sweet had been the kills so far, yet the undead were insatiable in their appetite. The grimlock army had risen from the ground where they had been left to rot during Battle of the Gnomes, and now were driven by a hunger not of this world. Those along their pathway perished in terror and pain.
Slowly, the army advanced Westward from where they had climbed out of the depths of this forum's dark tunnels and made their way to a location that they could not perceive. A driving force led the way. They came to a small forest on the outskirts of a town, where other creatures of the grave had already been doing business...but had left for now. The grimlocks had no reason to care for this. They continued onward, unhindered by anyone until they arrived at a location where much life was present. Cats, actually. They smelled cats. The dead grimlocks surrounded the area and charged in, their rusty weapons and decaying claws ripping into all life they encountered. The screams of life being ended in such mass numbers was not heard however, and no rescuing hero would save these poor beasts as they died in terror at the sight of their killers as they perished.
All too soon, it was over. None had survived. The grimlocks however were not filled, nor their bloodlust sedated. They continued onward, driven by a powerful force.
OOC>>>The camp where Liam lived and the party had resided temporarily has now been destroyed along with all those cats that refuged there.
Liam...come and get it.
|
ooc- *rubs hands together in glee, then winces* ow.. splinter...
*kicks gardening tools*
ic-
The once picturesque glade was ruined. The surrounding trees and foliage that once had burst with emerald green life lay in tatters, scarred by blood and claws and hate. The wind moaned quietly through the shattered cabin, whose windows stared sightlessly at the carnage with broken panes. Flies gathered greedily over the small pitiful corpses, feeding on the wake of death left behind. Blood and fur were everywhere, covered with dust and decay. Nothing moved, except for the shimmering from the hot sun and the lustful flies. Then, something stirred on the edge of the destruction, disturbing some of the flies who flew up in a cloud with annoyance before alighting on another corpse.
It was hard to tell what manner of creature it was, beneath the filth and mud that caked its hide. Its lackluster eyes blinked gnats away, half-lidded from the shimmering heat. The miserable creature could still smell the stench of fear beneath the death, and the hate and lust of those who had attacked with such wanton vengeance. Hip bones sticking gauntly from the ragged body, the dusty mass picked its way over to the cabin, avoiding the bodies as best as it was able. Unseeing, glazed eyes of a large tiger stared almost accusingly at the creature as it walked by, causing the scrawny thing to flinch away as if stung.
In the cabin, nothing remained untouched. Everything broken and shattered, defiled in some way. One far wall had been caved in maliciously, causing a pool of dirty water to collect in the corner. Shambling over, the creature drank from the mud thirstily. Raising its head and sloppily licking its muddied maw, it pawed in the collapsed corners and piles of ruin of the cabin. Giving up, it staggered back out to the shattered deck, daylight streaming jaggedly through the broken roof. Collapsing next to the accusatory corpse, riling up a cloud of dust, the ragged creature peered around at the carnage again, ears flicking back and forth distractedly from the flies. As if coming to a decision, it rose up with claws unsheathed. Walking over to the first pile of bloodied, matted bodies, it began to scratch tiredly at the dirt.
Many hours later, the wind blew mournfully over the fresh mounds of dirt and rocks marking the graves of the slaughtered innocent. Whistling emptily through the cabin, the breeze coiled and twisted around the dying trees lining the path of destruction in the direction of the departed grimlocks. A brown leaf, disturbed from its perch by the passing wind, slowly fell to cover a fresh paw print winding a path southeastward.
ooc- how’s that for a comeback? am I a bit rusty? I hope not… :x
[ 07-19-2005, 12:17 PM: Message edited by: Skydracgrrl ]