Today begins the tale of
MacHeath Hok. She begins this tale naked in an odorous cave, no memory of her past or surroundings, gripping only a copper spear and a large copper dagger. One other thing blazes across her otherwise empty mind - "Kill Fima."
Down the cave she crept, looking for others of her kind, passing by seams of lignite, hematite and magnetite, unknowingly passing by wealth any dwarven clan would give his left eye to excavate. Deeper and deeper she crept through the dimness, following the downward path she knew not where.
A full day she crept downward, feasting upon freshly slain giant rat at one point until at last she came upon another of her kind, a man of tanned cinnamon skin and eyes as green as jades. Seeing her creeping along the wall, clad only in the grisly blood of the rat she'd slain in the passage far above, he took a chance and called out to her.
"Hello! I am Stonedabble the Wood burner. Who might you be?"
"Mac", she replied warily, drawing back her spear in defense.
He raised his empty hands palm-out "I mean you no harm, miss. Come, let us talk awhile."
She considered him for a moment longer before strapping the spear to her back and the naked blade to her forearm. "All right, Wood burner. Talk."
"Well", the man said, lowering himself to the floor and resting his back against one wall. "We are currently in a cave named 'The Scaly Hollows', but that many just call 'Lashgutters'. I and a few others journeyed here to reclaim this place for The Society of Veils. Have you heard of them?"
She indicated she did not, so he continued: "The Society of Veils has tasked us with creating an emergency bunker here with the aid of the dwarves, a place of secrecy and safety in case one of the Living Gods decides to destroy the towns and villages nearby."
With disinterest, she began to toy with the hilt of her plain copper dagger, his tale so much flapping of lips. What were these things to her? She had but one directive: 'Kill Fima', whatever that happened to be. All other things seemed so far away and uninteresting. What was a Fima anyway?
He prattled on for a bit longer, about this dragon or that bronze colossus before falling silent once more.
"The others are below." He ventured after the silence had crept on for awhile. "Would you like to meet them?"
"Yes" she replied cautiously, but he merely gestured farther down and replied calmly: "Follow me."
They traveled down again still deeper into the very roots of the earth without speaking. Every once in awhile, she would see him glance quickly at her then away again, but she remained ready for an attack that never came after all. Eventually, they came upon another person, this time a tall, tanned woman wiry with muscle and wearing the green of a ranger.
"Well met, Stonedabble, what have you brought with you?"
"Well met, Loverodor", he replied formally before gesturing to his silent companion, "She says her name is 'Mac', but she doesn't know anything about The Society."
Loverodor's eyebrows raised in appraisal and surprise. "Oh Really, now?" She mused aloud. "Does she say much else"?
"Kill Fima", muttered Mac, "Kill Fima!"
"Fima? What's a Fima?" Loverodor asked Stonedabble.
"Nothing I've ever heard of. I thought she might be one of those 'big game' hunters, so I mentioned the local terrors, but she didn't seem to care about them one way or another. Just this 'Fima' thing."
"Better send her down to the others, " she countered grimly, "maybe someone else knows about this 'Fima' thing."
She gestured to the pit behind her, "Mac, go on down and introduce yourself. Maybe someone can help you find this 'Fima'."
Without another word, Mac strode to the pit and down further still into the depths. She could swear she felt Stonedabble's eyes caressing her back and she gingerly stepped down the slope of loose gravel, but like the veins of riches, she passed through his gaze without hurrying or pausing, set upon her one driving purpose...
She met and spoke briefly with a peasant and a mechanic, neither of which knew much else, other than the the fact that they were given the authority to reclaim this cave by 'The Council of Gliding'. None knew of a 'Fima', but knew of many other great beasts such as hydras and hill titans. Still she crept downwards, seeking others below who might know of the object of her quest.
The narrow passage finally widened into an expansive cavern that continued on into the dimness. In it grew pale, luminous mushrooms the size of trees and moss coated the floor in a soft, spongy mass beneath her feet. Venturing into this, she crept, until she came upon an incredibly muscled woman napping beneath one of these luminous "trees". The woman spoke calmly, her azure eyes opening suddenly, "Are you going to stick me with those?"
Mac stopped, then angled the points of her spear and dagger away.
"Good.", replied the woman "I'd hate to ruin my nap taking those away from you. Now, who might you be?"
"Mac"
"Ah. I am called Spikebreach. Why are you sneaking about clothed only in blood?"
"I don't know. Do you know what a 'Fima' is?"
"No, can't say as I have. What's a 'Fima'?"
"I must kill it. That's all I know."
"...I don't think you'll find a 'Fima' down here. Frankly, it sounds like some creature of the upper world. You should go seek it there first. Without armor or even clothing, you'll not last long down here."
So Mac turned her steps back up to the sunlit realm, having found only mystery here in the depths.
After a while, she passed by all those whom she'd met on her journey into the depths, greeted and passed them before soon stumbling out into the cold, day-lit pile of snow. Her feet burned with the cold and she shivered violently, but she ventured out nonetheless. Perhaps the 'Fima' was somewhere out here.
Outside, she searched in a widening spiral around the hill that was the upper entrance to Lashgutters until she came upon a woman who warmed herself next to a fire. Putting her weapons away, as she had learned to do with the humans in the cave, she approached the woman cautiously.
"Your fire is warm."
The woman started visibly at the naked woman who had come out of the snows to greet her thusly. "Come and warm yourself, traveler." She replied
Crouching next to the flames, Mac comforted her chilled body.
After a while, the woman spoke again. "I am Sat Bonesplatter, the one who rules here by authority of the Council of Gliding. Who are you?"
"My name is Mac, I must kill the Fima"
"I've never heard of a Fima. What manner of thing is that?"
"I don't know!!", cried Mac in frustration, I only know my name and that I must kill this 'Fima' - nothing else! I woke in your cave over there with only this dagger and this spear near me. That is all!"
"Ah, " The Cheiftess replied musing, "You are purpose made flesh: A Seeker."
"A...A Seeker?"
The Cheiftess added more wood to fire before continuing. "A Seeker is a divine instrument, often a spear or a dagger, that is wielded by a mortal with no memory, no family and no other possessions. Unlike regular spears or knives, these divine weapons wield whomever bears them as the weapon - imbuing them with the instrument's purpose, just as we would give purpose to a regular blade. The person is driven to complete this purpose before the instrument frees them or until they die, but the spear or dagger will silently call to passer-by to take them up again, and those who are unfortunate enough to do so become Seekers themselves until the divine instrument's purpose has been fulfilled. What is your full name?"
"MacHeath the Knife"
"So." The Cheiftess bowed to the copper dagger while carefully not touching it. "Well met, Seeking Dagger. May you fulfill your purpose soon."
In horror, Mac stumbled away from the fire, running from the Cheiftess' pitying gaze.
For several hours she trudged through the snow, the overcast clouds defying the sun admittance for more than a murk until finally she stumbled from the icy plain into an equally cold forest of silent trees. Her mouth was dry with thirst, but she had no water to drink, so she continued on in roughly the direction she had been going, looking for she knew not what. The trees held silent vigil to the steady tread of her benumbed feet and legs, her arms clamped about her body as she progressed from shivering to the certainly that she would never be warm again, but walking on her numb feet, using her spear as an aid to keep herself upright warmed her body enough to continue on.
The sun's glow changed direction in the gloom as night approached, when a giant weasel came across her path. Quick as a wink she threw her spear and chased the weasel down. Raw weasel meat steamed in her mouth - its warm life's blood adding to the gore her body wore, but the recently living meat gave her torpid limbs new energy and she held the gory mess in her hands with giddy pleasure - this was how she would warm herself, come nightfall: she would find some large beast and climb inside it!
Alas, the weasel was the only beast to be seen in the silent, frozen forest, so when she found a frozen stream, she followed along its bank, trying to find a place where the ice was thin enough to break through, so that she could sate her dry throat's thirst. The weasel's blood was not enough - attempting to drink it only made her queasy, so she had to find something else instead.
As night fell, she followed the river bank, eventually curling up next to a frozen waterfall to await the brightening murk that signaled morning, for she feared that in the night she might pitch headlong into some hole or fall victim to some night predator. The morning found her cold and hungry, so she breakfasted on the remaining hunks of yesterday's weasel and bore her burning thirst once more, seeking along the river to find a place that could sate it.
Some instinct bid her depart from the frozen shores of the stream she'd been following and to turn towards the brightest area of the murky sky. She traveled for several hours until coming to a patch of greenery in the forest and a stream running through it that smelled vaguely of sulfur. She greedily gulped the mineral rich water down, however - it was the sweetest feeling as her parched throat was finally soothed. Drinking with her were large hoofed animals with two strange bumps on their backs, one right after the other. Knowing she would soon be hungry, she hunted one of these beasts with casts of her spear, but they proved too agile for her, so when another giant weasel showed itself, she took its offering instead and toted its corpse with her on her trek westward. When she needed to eat, she would have brought her meal with her
Later that morning, she came across a chattering group of strange creatures: naked humans with the head and crests of songbirds. They all quieted for a moment upon beholding her before excitedly exclaimig that they had just assaulted her, even though they were still some distance off.
"I am the Seeker, Mac!" she called to them, "Do you know where the 'Fima' is?"
"Oh! We assaulted her right here in the Jungles of Luster!"
"That we did, that we did, oh, such excitement!"
"Yes, right here in the Jungles of Luster!"
They seemed to be conversing, but when she approached them, they told her excitedly that several of their number had attacked Mac the Knife.
"I am Mac the Knife!" she shouted at them and they excitedly started telling each-other how Mac the Knife ALSO shouted in the Jungle... They were quite brainless after all. She butchered the weasel corpse and left all but the meat with the bird-people. Perhaps they would tell each other about it for awhile.
West she traveled all day, west across the desert of blades and west still for a long while after that. Soon the sun began to set in the west once more and she found herself next to a stream's source. Where bird-men chattered pleasantly while swimming in the pool just below the spring. She set her burdens down, and slept by that pleasant area, wondering if ever she would find the 'Fima', for the world was by turns warm then cold again here.
That sunset was she last saw, for bogey-men found her sweet and supple flesh there upon the pleasant bank and feasted upon her brains with great delight. The Seeking Blade remains there, its purpose unfulfilled. Do you think a bird-man will take it up in her stead?
https://www.dropbox.com/s/r9d14534u88rm1s/King%20of%20the%20Kill.zip?dl=0
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Topic: King of the kill, adventure mode succession game (Read 7575 times)