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The Heroes of Winterhaven - updated 8th June - Ryam Plays Dice
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<blockquote data-quote="Mathew_Freeman" data-source="post: 4511754" data-attributes="member: 1846"><p><strong>The Flame Harvest</strong></p><p></p><p>It was neither night nor day but another time when death and disease are burned from the earth and become black smoke where otherwise would be seen sun or stars. They castrated the bull calf amidst a field of corn on fire, it kicked and grunted as blood spattered the stubble at the epicenter of the geometrically perfect corn circles.</p><p></p><p>When the old men finally released their grip on the beasts hind legs it kicked so fiercely that the bamboo trap bent and split. The young bull stumbled to its feet and ran panic stricken into the blackened corn field, disappearing into billowing smoke and the deafening roar of the flames, whereupon the scrawny child prophet raised a dripping knife skyward and lowered his head.</p><p></p><p>"Shavod, we curse you. We call your seed nameless and utter the words of your enemies. Shavod, look upon this ruined land and turn away, for your seed is this day killed by the fires of man and emptiness awaits you once more. Shavod, fade into the night. Let thirst take you. Let hunger waste you. Let loneliness unface you, and look not upon this world again."</p><p></p><p>Only the broad concentric circles cut from the blanket of corn kept the fire from them, and, as the wind cast this way and that, black smoke engulfed the huddled figures momentarily. There they waited for 3 days and nights, lying without sleep on the corn stalks until each one was blackened with smoke such that not even a fleeing crow could distinguish the men from the land around. </p><p></p><p>When finally they arose, the child led the old men staggering back to the river where they washed. There he saw that he had a deep gash on his thumb, having cut himself with the knife while inside the beast. This, the people of the paper village later said, made him and the bull blood brothers, naming him 'Sacred Bull' in their language.</p><p></p><p>When the Witchhunter General one day rode into the village wearing a demon mask atop his painted wooden armour the farmers and the skywatchers were slaughtered. All except the wretched child prophet, who was now a youth, as the soldiers feared the disease that had frosted his eyes would depart his fallen body in spirit form and possess them. Bound in captivity, the time of the time of the Flame Harvest came and went without notice. The corn came high across the meadows, a glorious golden graveyard that grew over the bones of a forgotten people.</p><p></p><p>When eventually the soldiers no longer brought food or water, the boy grew so thin he could step between the poles of his bamboo cage. The Eternal City was quiet and still but for the swarming clouds of flies that made dusk of the noonday sun. The youth made his way barefoot through the corpse-littered wooden avenues and out of the city, where, on the Westward Road, he watched the stars appear again one by one in the evening sky.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: orange">Note: This is a tale from Sabbat Fau's past, written after I requested additional background information on the PC's. The events of this story may yet end up influencing how things go in the future.</span></p><p><span style="color: orange"></span></p><p><span style="color: orange">Next update: A Dwarven Birth - we discover the identity of Rangrim's parents. We'll be returning to the adventure logs in due course - hang in there!</span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Mathew_Freeman, post: 4511754, member: 1846"] [b]The Flame Harvest[/b] It was neither night nor day but another time when death and disease are burned from the earth and become black smoke where otherwise would be seen sun or stars. They castrated the bull calf amidst a field of corn on fire, it kicked and grunted as blood spattered the stubble at the epicenter of the geometrically perfect corn circles. When the old men finally released their grip on the beasts hind legs it kicked so fiercely that the bamboo trap bent and split. The young bull stumbled to its feet and ran panic stricken into the blackened corn field, disappearing into billowing smoke and the deafening roar of the flames, whereupon the scrawny child prophet raised a dripping knife skyward and lowered his head. "Shavod, we curse you. We call your seed nameless and utter the words of your enemies. Shavod, look upon this ruined land and turn away, for your seed is this day killed by the fires of man and emptiness awaits you once more. Shavod, fade into the night. Let thirst take you. Let hunger waste you. Let loneliness unface you, and look not upon this world again." Only the broad concentric circles cut from the blanket of corn kept the fire from them, and, as the wind cast this way and that, black smoke engulfed the huddled figures momentarily. There they waited for 3 days and nights, lying without sleep on the corn stalks until each one was blackened with smoke such that not even a fleeing crow could distinguish the men from the land around. When finally they arose, the child led the old men staggering back to the river where they washed. There he saw that he had a deep gash on his thumb, having cut himself with the knife while inside the beast. This, the people of the paper village later said, made him and the bull blood brothers, naming him 'Sacred Bull' in their language. When the Witchhunter General one day rode into the village wearing a demon mask atop his painted wooden armour the farmers and the skywatchers were slaughtered. All except the wretched child prophet, who was now a youth, as the soldiers feared the disease that had frosted his eyes would depart his fallen body in spirit form and possess them. Bound in captivity, the time of the time of the Flame Harvest came and went without notice. The corn came high across the meadows, a glorious golden graveyard that grew over the bones of a forgotten people. When eventually the soldiers no longer brought food or water, the boy grew so thin he could step between the poles of his bamboo cage. The Eternal City was quiet and still but for the swarming clouds of flies that made dusk of the noonday sun. The youth made his way barefoot through the corpse-littered wooden avenues and out of the city, where, on the Westward Road, he watched the stars appear again one by one in the evening sky. [color=orange]Note: This is a tale from Sabbat Fau's past, written after I requested additional background information on the PC's. The events of this story may yet end up influencing how things go in the future. Next update: A Dwarven Birth - we discover the identity of Rangrim's parents. We'll be returning to the adventure logs in due course - hang in there![/color] [/QUOTE]
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