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Naunet · **12-09-2013, 07:03 PM**

Follow? The man blinked and then startled as the Duskwight faded into the shadows. "Hey, wait!"

Scrambling to his feet, there was a moment of dizzy confusion where his limbs took longer than expected to remember how to support him and the canopy seemed to spin above him. The smells of the forest hammered at his senses so chaotically that he had no way to pick out the Duskwight in the mess, save for the general direction the old elezen had drifted towards.

"Wait!" He called out again and stumbled around the hole he'd crawled from, staggering into the thick, moss-covered trunk of a tree, which he leaned against for several seconds before recalling the Duskwight's words. Letting out a noise of frustration, he shook his head, felt as though the action rattled his whole brain about in his skull, and then hurried after the old man in the shadows.

Twinflame · **12-10-2013, 06:37 PM**

The beasts frothed in their confusion, and Antelope were the least among them. Claws and teeth gnashed and tore at the earth, drool matting coarse fur on the chins of a half dozen beasts that on any other day would have no common cause. Obscured, the features of the Duskwight and the unearthed Miqo'te were like a shadow slipping inside shadows. The Shroud's quarry was maddeningly invisible to the forest, and the beasts who knew only the instruction to seek and kill, saw nothing but anonymous passersby.

And the beasts, dull and agitated as they were, attacked. The forest, in its callousness and blindness, attacked without thought.

The Duskwight was not kind to the forest in return. Two beasts were torn from the ground, bones snapping, caught up in strange snares that placed their weight on branches that could only hold their writhing forms for a moment before they crashed down. The silent forest shivered with bestial death throes and snapping limbs, groaning trees in anger, and even the earth shuffled as the roots beneath writhed in desperate wish to find the invisible quarry.

In all of this, the Duskwight was a rickety black form, slipping through the shadows like an orobon through muck. His ancient steps and bent spine were oddly unable to snare him, his aged limbs somehow carrying him though they moved weakly and slow. Darkness and thunder, no lightning, the screeches and coughs of dying animals and the groan of wood, a distant scream without source, and the voice of the Duskwight in the dark, "Follow me. Do not slow. Follow."

Naunet · **12-10-2013, 07:36 PM**

Strange beasts the mud-stained miqo'te did not recognize bounded from the bushes and thick trunks hemming them in, only to buckle and wail, seemingly caught up in the shadows themselves. Each snap of their bones and roar from the forest echoed in his skull and sent a shiver down his ragged tail, which trailed like a banner behind him. He could make out the tall, thin form of the Duskwight ahead, and though the old man seemed to move with an ancient slowness, the unearthed miqo'te struggled to keep up. Roots and vines jutted up from the ground, tripping up his feet as though seeking to ensnare him, and twice in the chaos, lost in the impossible complexities of earth and blood and something very, very old that confused his nose, he found himself turned around, following a spectre that was only a bush or a thin stump.

Pushing red, matted hair from his eyes, careful not to disturb the mud markings obscuring his face, the miqo'te stumbled on. With each step, he became aware of a growing frustration simmering in his belly, a slow awareness of rebellion. He wanted to turn on the forest, to bare his teeth and arms and dare it to take him, dare it to drag him back to the hole he'd clawed his way from, and then tear apart whatever came for him. That suffocating oblivion was for worms and bones - not him!

The Duskwight's words, however, kept him moving, though to where he didn't know.

Twinflame · **12-14-2013, 02:08 AM**

Gridania was not their immediate destination. They would reach there in time, but to the Duskwight, the Woodwailers and Conjurers of the Gridanians were no different than the beasts that he slew. A diremite spat bile and gore, its exoskeleton cracking loudly as the Duskwights knife broke through its shell from several different angles and then returned to his pocket. A Woodwailer would break as easily, and utter far less pleasant sounds as they frothed and twitched. This, he knew from experience.

The unearthed man was following well, considering that it was unlikely he had much experience in fleeing the woods, or unburying himself. He would most likely not appreciate the next part.

"Here!" He led the unearthed man to a patch of death, where brittle roots crossed over one another and the canopy pulled away. Silver moonlight filled the place and for a moment the unearthed man was a wiry figure, patches of black earth on his dirty skin. His eyes caught the light to shine, though, and the Duskwight stood before him like a specter half on the wrong side of death.

Then the ground cover broke, and the Duskwight cast the unearthed man into a fresh pit. The ancient voice echoed down after him, "Do not panic. Do not struggle. This hole will protect you, but it will not contain you. Do you understand? Remain until daylight! I will return!"

Naunet · **12-14-2013, 02:43 AM**

There was time only for a confused huff when the Duskwight paused, and then the ground the miqo'te stood upon crumbled. He let out a shout, grasping at debris that fell with him, and hit the earth below with a heavy grunt. His tail folded painfully beneath him as he stared up at the now impossibly small and far hole, moonlight piercing through enough to cast a thin line of white across his chest.

He heard the Duskwight's words, shuddered, and a roar of protest burst from his lungs. How dare he send him back to the earth, back into the darkness with the worms and old, dead things! The mud-caked man writhed at the bottom of this new pit, rolled to one side, and reached up to claw at the wet, root-riddled walls, clumps of soil tearing free in his hands.

Thunder cracked above, with a violence that seemed to shake the walls and floor of the earthy cage, and the the man fell back to the ground. Images of ravenous beasts flashed across the back of his skull, their forms illuminated by the faint moonlight peeking through the gap above, and he growled in confusion.

He could try to drag himself out of this pit, just like he'd done with the first, he realized, but the forest in its incomprehensible rage would be waiting. Yet it wouldn't find him in this hole? Was this not where it wanted him? What reason did he have to trust the old Duskwight?

But then, a better question would be: What better choice did he have?

Cracked nails dug into dirty palms, grinding the mud deep into the seams of his skin as he glared upwards and waited.

Twinflame · **12-14-2013, 03:24 AM**

Morning had a different tone to it. The beasts couldn't hide their forms in the dark. They could not menace from the shadows, waiting to spring upon the unsuspecting. The thunder no longer rolled without its lightning, and no one screamed in the distance. At the monument, the Duskwight stood, looking at the pit that the unearthed man had crawled out of. The inscribed stone and whatever enchantment had been upon it were broken, shattered perhaps by an animal, and thick roots held its broken fragments.

With a swift motion, the Duskwight severed all of those roots. He could hear the silent wail of the forest in response to this action, but he ignored it. In one thin, ancient arm, he hefted the bundle of stone and roots. Would Conjurers come to investigate this place soon? This was obviously something the Shroud and its spirits felt very strongly about.

Well. He would not be here. The unearthed man would not be here. The monument would not be here. Hopefully the Gridanians enjoyed their inexplicable hole in the ground.

The pit he'd left the unearthed man in the night before was some ways distance, and he arrived with unlikely speed. His weathered, weary body bent over the hole and looked in, casting a long shadow. He caught a glimpse of angry eyes, and before anything could be said, he extended one old hand and dropped a plain wooden mask into the pit. It was the same kind of mask many Conjurers wore for their rituals. How had it been obtained? Surely the breath that might tell would never be drawn.

Vanishing from over the pit for the slightest moment, the ancient body swung back and threw down a rope. "Put on the mask, and climb."

Naunet · **12-14-2013, 03:45 AM**

Biting words leapt to the dirt-stained miqo'te's throat but stilled as something wooden and oblong dropped to the ground beside him. He snatched it up and directed his glare to the object: a smooth, wooden mask with two, perfectly round holes carved out of its surface through which eyes could see. "More hiding from angry spirits?" he spat, but the anger began to dull not long after those words. This grudge did not seem right to keep.

As long as the Duskwight did not try to send him into anymore pits.

He made to wipe his face free of the thick mud that had dried in broad streaks across it, but he had little clean space on skin or clothing available to him, so all he really managed was to smear it around and knock off the thickest of the chunks. The dirt might not have bothered him if it hadn't smelled of that ill earth he'd crawled from, but he ground his teeth and secured the mask anyway.

It felt strange on his face, restricting to the expression of his features, and it caught his breath and bounced it back to him, creating an uncomfortable warmth beneath his nose and lips. Again he wondered if there was any truth to the Duskwight's insistence of hiding his face, but for now there seemed no harm in playing along.

"Eh, what's another hole when you've already climbed out of the worst of them," the unearthed man muttered and stood, stretching up along one wall and feeling around for roots to use as hand and footholds. The rope he largely ignored, until he ran out of other things to grab.

He put the pit to his back gladly when he finally emerged, pleased that his legs felt more stable now. The forest's chaotic smells still confused his senses, but there was less chaos in his mind to mix with it. The questions remained, but they had settled, smoothed over. He turned his masked face to the Duskwight, squinting a bit as he peered through the holes. "As much as I'd like to say I can handle it from here, I've got no clue where I am." He dropped his eyes briefly to the bundle in the Duskwight's arms and bit back an unnerved shiver, though his ears shifted in mud-caked hair to press against his skull.

Twinflame · **12-14-2013, 03:53 AM**

The old Duskwight hummed at the unearthed man, and after a moment he bent down to the man's level, which was a laborious task for his old spine. Looking into the holes of the mask, at those eyes, he said, "You intrigue me, stranger. Oschon guided me to... this monument," he hefted the thing in his hands. "It was warded, I think to protect you from the Woodwrath. A young Miqo'te girl erected it, and buried you, and left you, and then you unburied yourself. Do you know, Thal, why you have come to Eorzea is such a vessel, and why your acolyte left you in such a state?"

After asking his question, the Duskwight rose again, still staring down at the much shorter man. His old ears listened to the woods, for any hint of Woodwrath. He could sense spirits stirring, searching for something they had lost, but unable to find it. To the Shroud, both the Duskwight and the unearthed man were invisible.

Naunet · **12-14-2013, 04:26 AM**

The unearthed man swung his head to one side and then the other, taking in the forest now in the dim light of morning. His tail flicked behind him, still aching from the fall. He saw trees all around, trees and brush and tall, broad-leafed plants reaching for the last bits of sunlight where they could manage to squeeze in. It seemed less foreboding in this light, if not any less confusing. He could not tell any direction, and it all looked and smelled the same.

The Duskwight's words he chewed over in silence for a time, scratching at his cheek beneath the mask and flaking away more dried mud. If someone had buried him, did that mean he had died? "I don't feel dead," he observed with a shrug and a half-grimace. He tried to search his memory, straining for any thought or sense of a young girl, or his relation to her, or what might have transpired, but just like all else, he found himself facing nothing but cold emptiness. The pit in his mind stared back at him like the pit he'd crawled from. He didn't like it and did not want to dwell on it.

"I don't know. Your guess is as good as mine."

Twinflame · **12-14-2013, 04:46 AM**

"I tried to find the girl last night," the Duskwight said, looking off into the forest. "After I left you here. I thought that I had heard her calling out. But perhaps the Shroud was just trying to confuse me. Oschon did not bring me to her, so it seems the Wanderer would have me focus my attention here."

He turned slowly, his old, hunched form swinging around and his feet moving a small distance forward. "With that mask, you will be welcome in Gridania. Come, it is not far. Though," he let out a chuckle, "I will take a very long time getting there. Night like this past one do leave me quite rigid in the morning." He leaned against a tree for balance as he walked, and after a moment, he added, "Oh! And do not touch the trees for now. Just in case."

Naunet · **12-14-2013, 05:05 AM**

With nothing else to do, the unearthed man followed after the Duskwight. The slower pace suited him just fine; he didn't think he felt like dealing with other people quite yet anyway. Hopefully by the time they reached... "Gridania? A city, right?" The name was vaguely familiar, but he had no thoughts or images to associate it with. This annoyed him, and he resolved that the first thing he would do would be to establish a sense of direction. Rubbing at the mud smeared in dry patches down one arm, the man found himself casting his gaze about him in search of something, but when he realized he didn't know what, he ceased. A moment later, he snatched a broad leaf from a bush as they inched by and began to scrub at his arm with it.

"Not sure if I should thank or be angry at that girl," he mused as he scraped at the mud.

Twinflame · **12-15-2013, 04:50 PM**

As the unearthed man finished speaking, he would find himself face-to-face with the Duskwight. The ancient body was in his path, bent low, placing those silver eyes right where they could look into the holes in the man's mask. "I just told you," the weary voice said, "Do not touch the trees!" The unearthed man's leaf was in the Duskwight's fingers, having been so smoothly and quickly ripped from that muddy hand that the motion almost had not even happened.

Standing away again, the Duskwight tore the leaf to bits. He spoke with a lecturing tone, "Do not overlook that the forest is conspiring to kill you. It cannot see you as long as you wear the mask, but if you put your skin to wood and leaf, it just might feel you." He began to slip backwards through the trees, old steps plodding but smooth. "I'd rather not have to save your life again."

Naunet · **12-15-2013, 05:13 PM**

The unearthed man brought both hands up in front of him in a surrendering gesture, pausing his steps to declare, "Alright, yeesh. How am I supposed to know what this crazy forest can or can't do?" He regained his pace then, ragged tail swishing in broad arcs behind him. For a few long moments, he just watched the Duskwight's back, the old man's form bending and swaying in an invisible wind as he moved. The unearthed man turned his face upward, peering through the holes of the mask towards the canopy, and managed to make out glimpses of blue through the trees.

The sky. Inexplicably, it bolstered him to be able to see it. He could almost remember how open spaces smelled...

This thought confused him, so he shook his ears and brought his gaze back to the Duskwight. "I don't really understand how a forest can want to kill people anyway. I haven't done anything to it, except... well, not be dead." There was a pause, and then a bit quieter he added, "Thanks, though."

Twinflame · **12-15-2013, 05:29 PM**

With a dubious groan, the Duskwight muttered, "The Shroud is authoritarian. Those who do not follow its wishes, forfeit their lives. Your life is against it wishes, so tell me where there leaves you."

Gridania was half-days' walk from where they had begun, and it was past noon when they were within sight of the roads that would lead to it. The Duskwight took the unearthed man to the road, but stopped there, his keen ears able to pick out the movements and voices of distant Woodwailers in the direction of the city. He said, "The people who dwell in Gridania do the bidding of the Shroud, but as long as they do not realize that the forest desires your death, they should be agreeable. Do not hint to anyone that you might be a victim of the Woodwrath. Ask for no aid that you do not need direly." Still standing off the wood, amonth the boughs, the Duskwight finished by saying, "I will not enter Gridania. I am not welcome there."

Naunet · **12-15-2013, 06:04 PM**

The unearthed man chuckled where he now stood in the road, then seemed to consider the Duskwight's words. "Wait... You're serious?" He certainly looked it, the man thought as he squinted towards the Duskwight in the brush. "Hm."

Casting a look about the road, which seemed to wind out from one identical patch of forest and bend off into another, the miqo'te quirked his mouth behind the mask and ran one dirty hand through his hair. "So. Just stay on the road, huh." He wasn't sure how he felt about being deposited on some strange road in a strange forest to make for a (supposed) city that was surely just as strange as everything else. Then again, it wasn't as though he were completely helpless; perhaps it was just that time to move on, just as he had needed to move on from the chaotic questions in his mind and the strange emptiness that refused to answer them.

"If I come back out here, could I find you again?" He swiveled his head towards where the Duskwight had stood.

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Monument [closed, ooc welcome]

RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes