I’m a warrior seeking peace and an end to bloodshed. I’m on pilgrimage to the Temple to No Gods in the distant City of Gulls. My pilgrimage has brought me to the Desert of Spires, inhabited by the encamped army of a king who has sworn vengeance upon me. My goal is to pass safely through and continue my pilgrimage.
You, my friends online, play the world. Your goal is to see me to my doom, instead of safely on my way. You’re allowed only to directly answer my direct questions, though, so you might not be able to do it.
The rules:
1. Only answer my questions.
2. If you don’t already know the answer, make something up.
3. Keep your answers short.
4. If your answer’s disruptive, I’m allowed to ignore it.
5. Otherwise, I have to go with the first answer somebody gives.
6. You may post to subscribe to this thread if you like. Please use the sentence ‘no gods watch over you’ to do so.
No gods watch over you.
No gods watch over you.
No gods watch over you.
No gods watch over you.
An unearthly howl, barely audible, under suddenly intensifying winds.
The caw of a murder of crows as they take flighter after being interupted from their feast upon the carrion of an unidentifiable animal.
No gods watch over you.
A tingling on the back of your neck, you think you are being watching, but then the feeling goes away as if your mind is playing tricks on you.
No gods watch over you.
No gods watch over you.
No Gods watch over you.
A broad expanse of dust and heat awaits. Looks like three, maybe four hours of uncomfortable slog before reaching the next patch of shade.
You can smell burning. You can (just) hear some people singing, some kind of ritual chant perhaps.
No Gods watch over you.
The basin is dark, but unnaturally so. A nearly oppressive blackness sits heavily, contained by the basin's boundaries.
Through your feet you can feel a slow impact, as if a massive drum set in the earth is being struck. You can almost hear the vibrations as they travel up your legs. The sands near the edge of the basin whisper down into the blackness with each steady beat and you imagine the heart of some enormous, slumbering beast.
Due the darkness you do not see much of anything, though you do think you see some form of light briefly on one side, moving towards your position.
Casting your gaze along the edge of the basin, you can see the sand slowly drifting into it, through the beat of the...drum...that steadily rumbles the earth beneath you. But aside from that and an occasional dust devil brought about by a hot gust of wind, you can see nothing that would slow your travel. You are unsure if something inside the basin would see you if you skirted the edge but nothing you can see would indicate any immediate danger.
When you dip your sword into the sand of the basin, it seems to catch on something momentarily - a small tug, as if something pulls gently on it from below the sands. A simple jerk frees it, but the half the length of the blade seems tarnished, off-colour.
Uncoiling from my hiding place, I set out along the edge of the basin, treading swiftly but softly as my teacher trained me those many years ago. I'm travelling opposite where I thought I saw light or movement, hoping to avoid whatever caused it.
As I walk, I take out my sword. I dip it into the sand of the basin, curious about this oppressive blackness. I wonder if this is natural, or some new trick of my enemies.
Do I hear pursuit behind me?
Anyone should answer.
You hear nothing behind you but feel a sudden dry, dusty, noiseless wind pick up; you are walking into it.
As the blade approaches the spire, you feel a slight resistance, as if the air grows thicker, or more viscous. The feeling intensifies as the sword gets closer to its target. It takes more energy than it should to make contact with the spire, and even so, the contact is not as firm as it should be.
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