Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.
Rocket your D&D 5E and Level Up: Advanced 5E games into space! Alpha Star Magazine Is Launching... Right Now!

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Ravilah" data-source="post: 1581808" data-attributes="member: 19724">As he opened his eyes, Bobby wondered why his bed was so uncomfortable. As he shifted his body, piles of dirt and gravel slid around him, reminding him of what had happened. "I fell," said a passing coherent thought. His legs and his back greatly resented the attempts to climb out of the dirt that half buried him; and his head throbbed so badly his eyes watered.  Despite the pain, however, Bobby got to his feet, and could finally observe where he had fallen. He stood on the bottom of a tall, steep slope, the top of which could not be seen through a cloud of thick mist high above. Around him lay scattered bits off pebbles and rocks, along with larger boulders and rocky outcroppings.  Below him stretched a landscape of thick, dark forest, all the way to the horizon. The crispness of the air confrimed it: he was on the side of a mountain.  Bobby rubbed his bruised shoulders, letting his thoughts sort themselves out.  It was miraculous that he hadn't broken any bones; he had no fat and little muscle to help soften the blows he had taken on his way down the slope.  But everything still seemed to work properly, if painfully. His legs could walk, and his arms could still bend. He flexed an empty hand. The sword. His eyes scanned the rocks until he saw the glint of steel and gold sticking out of a dirt pile.  Bobby retrieved the blade from the dirt, and lofted it awkwardly with both hands.  This, surely, belonged to some antique dealer or British museum.  Those  guys in the factory probably stole it, along with all those statues. Memory of the statues was like ice water in his stomach.  The flexing hands and pawing feet sent shivers through his mind. He abandoned the thought.  "I need to get back to town," he thought, "I must be somewhere a bit north of Anaheim." He knew that there were mountains and forests in Northern California, though if he had known how far they were from Anaheim he would never have made such foolish conclusion.  Dragging the sword in his left hand, Bobby looked for a way down to the forest floor.  The rest of the mountian side sloped much more gentley than it did near the top, so he had little difficulty in making his way among the rocks.  Before long, the rocks became interspersed with long grasses and wild flowers, followed soon by small, hardy trees.  As the scenery grew more verdant, the sun began to set, casting long shadows and turning the sky a blazing orange and violet.  He couldn't have journeyed far, but in his battered condition, he felt like he had run fifty miles.  On top of that, he could hardly remmeber ever being so thirsty. As the sky grew less orange and more deep purple, Bobby's ears caught the delicious sound of rippling water.  He groped toward the sound, the sword bobbing in front of him like the stick of a clumsy blindman.  Then, through the growing shadows,  he spotted a row of small trees with drooping limbs, like willows.  Passing through them, Bobby found a large pool gleaming at the base of a cliff, with a trickle of water splashing down from a hole in the rock face.    A space of thick grass surrounded the water, and the willows pressed in from all sides like a garden wall.  Bobby stumbled to the water's edge and scooped up a glittering handful.  He paused for a moment as a pang of guilt washed over him. It wasn't exactly dinner (or even food), but Bobby said grace over the water, and asked God to forgive him for taking the gangster's money. That said, he started scooping liquid to his lips until he couldn't hold any more. No longer thirsty, hunger set in fiercely. But Bobby had gotten used to hunger by now, and being just shy of exhausted, he threw himself down on the grass and went to sleep.He remembered dreams of haunting lullabies when he awoke.  The blueness of the sky told him that he had slept late into the day, and the feeling in his stomach told him that he seriously needed some breakfast.  But water was the only breakfast available, so Bobby rolled over to the edge of the pool and had another drink before getting to his feet.  Getting to his feet proved to be a strangely difficult process.  He stumbled twice, feeling oddly off balance. His feet, he noticed, were painfully sore, but the rest of him felt surprisingly free of aches and pains.  He bent down to get the sword, and found it a great deal lighter than yesterday.  He could hold the hilt with one hand, he realized, and it was then that he noticed what had happened.  His hand.  Whereas before he could clasp all of his spindley fingers around the hilt, his hands now had the large, strong digits of an athete. His eyes went from his hands to his arms, then down to the rest of his body. He had grown into the massive form of a college football player.  His shirt pulled tight over muscles he had never had before, and his feet cramped painfully in undersized shoes. At his feet he now saw that his glasses lay cast off in the grass, yet he could see clearly still. Shock and wonder lasted for quite some time.  To be honest, a great deal of posturing and sword swinging lasted for some time as well.  But eventually, Bobby's practicality took over again.  "I might still be dreaming, of course. Or I could have gone mad. Or maybe something in the water could have messed with my head.  Then again, maybe this is real, and I'm really bigger than dad," Bobby scowled for a minute, "I need to get home."</blockquote>

Verification