Post by Morrigan on Mar 4, 2024 4:03:38 GMT -5
An anxiety had begun sweeping through Korin Forest. The people of the tribal grounds, once beneath the now-mobile Lookout, felt as much anyway. It started by word of a child who claimed to see a pale something from across a clearing. This much wasn’t enough to draw concern, but it was not the last of such a sighting. So too did they begin to find bloody bandages and strange symbols drawn into the ground. Whenever a villager would wipe them away in the dirt, it would reappear shortly thereafter, until eventually found carved messily into the bark of a tree as though by a claw. Over the course of only a few days, dread had slowly started spreading at what kind of creature had taken root past the treeline…
Oblivious to all of this, Morrigan knelt by a river, her reflection trembling in the water while she cleaned her arms with help of a bottle of alcohol. She winced at the stench more than the sting, thankful for when she was finished. Sitting back with a huff, she inspected the burns still lingering on her skin. Her recovery felt slow in the days following the Central City attack, but her injuries hadn’t worsened and she had hope that there would be nothing left of them given time. Waiting a short time for her hands to dry under the sun’s warmth, she took up a roll of bandages and wrapped her arms once more, looking nearly mummified when she was done. She was starting to think she was going through them too quickly… Trying to accelerate her healing by pushing herself only seemed to lead to more wounds reopening than it was worth. More than any possessed Earthling or necromancing alien though, she felt like the inaction was going to end up killing her.
Maybe she was exaggerating, but still. There was too much that she could have been doing better. Her siblings would probably tell her the same thing her parents had; take the time to rest. Morrigan would never say as much or even let herself feel the irritation it caused, that they still didn’t understand what she was after. Still, she was forced to delay any physical improvement in lieu of meditation. And when she grew weary of that, she worked on her spellcraft. In light of recent developments she’d sought something new, but she needed something in the vein of a rune to ground the magic. Though working out the composition had proven difficult when she had no writing supplies on hand and drawing it in the ground only let it be swept away. Probably by some large animal. Using her nails to dig notches into bark hadn’t been her first choice, but it seemed the most practical at that point.
Realizing she’d gotten lost in her thoughts, Morrigan interlaced her wrapped fingers and took a breath. She spared a glance upward to the afternoon sun and the outline of the temple that followed it. It had always been a mystery to her. Of the Earth’s mystic novelties, it was one of few her Master had nothing substantial to tell her about, and the tribespeople below where it was once fixed had been unclear. It had been a long time since she had asked though. She had the opportunity now, but as well more important things to attend to. She was not a little girl any longer. Lowering her eyes, Morrigan crossed her legs and shifted until she was comfortable, distancing herself from her surroundings to contemplate further. Yes, many more important things.
Oblivious to all of this, Morrigan knelt by a river, her reflection trembling in the water while she cleaned her arms with help of a bottle of alcohol. She winced at the stench more than the sting, thankful for when she was finished. Sitting back with a huff, she inspected the burns still lingering on her skin. Her recovery felt slow in the days following the Central City attack, but her injuries hadn’t worsened and she had hope that there would be nothing left of them given time. Waiting a short time for her hands to dry under the sun’s warmth, she took up a roll of bandages and wrapped her arms once more, looking nearly mummified when she was done. She was starting to think she was going through them too quickly… Trying to accelerate her healing by pushing herself only seemed to lead to more wounds reopening than it was worth. More than any possessed Earthling or necromancing alien though, she felt like the inaction was going to end up killing her.
Maybe she was exaggerating, but still. There was too much that she could have been doing better. Her siblings would probably tell her the same thing her parents had; take the time to rest. Morrigan would never say as much or even let herself feel the irritation it caused, that they still didn’t understand what she was after. Still, she was forced to delay any physical improvement in lieu of meditation. And when she grew weary of that, she worked on her spellcraft. In light of recent developments she’d sought something new, but she needed something in the vein of a rune to ground the magic. Though working out the composition had proven difficult when she had no writing supplies on hand and drawing it in the ground only let it be swept away. Probably by some large animal. Using her nails to dig notches into bark hadn’t been her first choice, but it seemed the most practical at that point.
Realizing she’d gotten lost in her thoughts, Morrigan interlaced her wrapped fingers and took a breath. She spared a glance upward to the afternoon sun and the outline of the temple that followed it. It had always been a mystery to her. Of the Earth’s mystic novelties, it was one of few her Master had nothing substantial to tell her about, and the tribespeople below where it was once fixed had been unclear. It had been a long time since she had asked though. She had the opportunity now, but as well more important things to attend to. She was not a little girl any longer. Lowering her eyes, Morrigan crossed her legs and shifted until she was comfortable, distancing herself from her surroundings to contemplate further. Yes, many more important things.
Thread PL: 50,000
PL: 5,000 (Suppressed)
WC: 604
PL: 5,000 (Suppressed)
WC: 604