01-30-2017, 08:21 PM
It wasn’t easy to tell when the sun was setting in the Pale Moors, with its perpetually dark and ominous skyline. Baldur was able to identify it right away, however. If there was one thing that the Pale Moors shared with the Goron’s home verse, it was the uninviting sky above. Brooke seemed either unaware or uncaring. Either invited its own share of concerns into the stone man’s heart, but he followed her up the last hill anyways.
At the crest of their final ascent, they found themselves at the entrance to a dilapidated town. Broken windows, collapsed roofs, and debris filling the street were only sights to take in. The village’s ideal position atop a hill was reinforced by eroded fortifications that clearly hadn’t seen maintenance of any sort since the battle for the Black Gate. There was a distinctive howling as the wind ripped through the deteriorated town that sent a chill down both travelers’ spines.
Then, they heard what sounded a lot like a door slamming somewhere within the town limits.
“Nope,” Baldur immediately announced, turning on a heel and marching right back the way they’d come from.
“Baldur!” Brooke protested, grabbing one of his arms to try and stop him. The Goron barely felt her, and ended up dragging her several feet without even noticing, even despite her surprised screams. “Hey, whoa, Baldur!”
The Goron finally stopped and looked down at his human companion. “I am not going in there.”
“It's the wind. Will you just trust me, you big wuss?” Brooke implored her giant friend, though admittedly with little to back up her own words. Brooke suppressed a shudder when she remembered how close the forgotten village was to the Black Gate. There was no telling what monstrosities from the legendary battle were still lurking in the area.
“This is a land where ghost stories are just stories, and we’re supposed to wander into a place like this?” Baldur scoffed incredulously.
Brooke rolled her eyes, but all the same, she drew her revolver from its holster in what was perhaps the biggest indication she knew Baldur was right.
“It’s just a quick in and out,” Brooke reminded him, simultaneously opening the map in her other hand. “We made it this far, right?”
Baldur hesitantly nodded in agreement, after a moment of reflection on that point. “We just have to be careful. This far in, we’ll run into the most dangerous monsters of all.”
“No arguing with that,” Brooke admitted.
The two slowly advanced down the empty streets. Brooke kept her handgun aimed forward to deal with any threats that might suddenly arise, while Baldur followed at the rear. The Goron seemed to be on a swivel as he walked, continuously turning and watching every single corner of the ghost town that he was able to lay eyes on. Brooke trusted Baldur’s nearly crippling paranoia well enough, so she simply worried about the map and reaching their destination.
To the Goron’s displeasure, they followed several ruined roads and turned many times, effectively making Baldur lose his sense of direction. He didn’t like that, but he was more than prepared to blitz straight in any direction, buildings or other obstacles be damned. He would get out of here if he needed to.
Brooke looked up from the map as they entered a wide-open area within the town. It appeared to be some sort of depraved, paganistic town center. There were stone tables, unlit torches, a hangman’s noose, and many torture devices that looked like they belonged in the deepest depths of a medieval dungeon. Perhaps the most horrifying part of all was that none of this was on the map. It was all supposed to be another block of houses.
“Wh-what the hell!?” Baldur gasped as he looked at the sight before them.
Brooke rolled her eyes at Baldur’s instinctive fear of the unknown. Like the guy couldn’t tear free of any of these devices in under a second, should he somehow find himself locked in them. Admittedly, it was quite an unsettling sight to her, but she knew she needed to press through and be done with this disturbing place. Deciding not to poke her companion’s insecurities, she decided to leave out that this little community area was a recent addition. She just hoped that the object they were searching for wasn’t in one of the leveled houses.
They made their way through the demonic clearing, looking at everything a bit closer as they passed. A horrible stench lingered in the air. The Pale Moors in general smelled like death, but here the stench was close and intimate. She looked down and saw ash lying on the ground by the torches, not yet swept away by the wind. Her own heart pounded. This place had seen use very recently. It was entirely possible that they were not the only ones in the supposedly deserted village at that given moment.
Upon leaving the strange, ritualistic area, they moved down another small street. At the end of it was the house they were seeking, but they both noticed the same thing about it.
“There’s a light in there,” Brooke whispered, watching the soft glow that came from the window.
The words barely escaped her lips before there was a loud sound to the side closest to the human member of their duo. Brooke raised an arm to shield her eyes from the splinters that erupted from the building beside her. This defensive maneuver prevented her from seeing anything else, particularly the object that struck her head and plunged her into unconsciousness.
At the crest of their final ascent, they found themselves at the entrance to a dilapidated town. Broken windows, collapsed roofs, and debris filling the street were only sights to take in. The village’s ideal position atop a hill was reinforced by eroded fortifications that clearly hadn’t seen maintenance of any sort since the battle for the Black Gate. There was a distinctive howling as the wind ripped through the deteriorated town that sent a chill down both travelers’ spines.
Then, they heard what sounded a lot like a door slamming somewhere within the town limits.
“Nope,” Baldur immediately announced, turning on a heel and marching right back the way they’d come from.
“Baldur!” Brooke protested, grabbing one of his arms to try and stop him. The Goron barely felt her, and ended up dragging her several feet without even noticing, even despite her surprised screams. “Hey, whoa, Baldur!”
The Goron finally stopped and looked down at his human companion. “I am not going in there.”
“It's the wind. Will you just trust me, you big wuss?” Brooke implored her giant friend, though admittedly with little to back up her own words. Brooke suppressed a shudder when she remembered how close the forgotten village was to the Black Gate. There was no telling what monstrosities from the legendary battle were still lurking in the area.
“This is a land where ghost stories are just stories, and we’re supposed to wander into a place like this?” Baldur scoffed incredulously.
Brooke rolled her eyes, but all the same, she drew her revolver from its holster in what was perhaps the biggest indication she knew Baldur was right.
“It’s just a quick in and out,” Brooke reminded him, simultaneously opening the map in her other hand. “We made it this far, right?”
Baldur hesitantly nodded in agreement, after a moment of reflection on that point. “We just have to be careful. This far in, we’ll run into the most dangerous monsters of all.”
“No arguing with that,” Brooke admitted.
The two slowly advanced down the empty streets. Brooke kept her handgun aimed forward to deal with any threats that might suddenly arise, while Baldur followed at the rear. The Goron seemed to be on a swivel as he walked, continuously turning and watching every single corner of the ghost town that he was able to lay eyes on. Brooke trusted Baldur’s nearly crippling paranoia well enough, so she simply worried about the map and reaching their destination.
To the Goron’s displeasure, they followed several ruined roads and turned many times, effectively making Baldur lose his sense of direction. He didn’t like that, but he was more than prepared to blitz straight in any direction, buildings or other obstacles be damned. He would get out of here if he needed to.
Brooke looked up from the map as they entered a wide-open area within the town. It appeared to be some sort of depraved, paganistic town center. There were stone tables, unlit torches, a hangman’s noose, and many torture devices that looked like they belonged in the deepest depths of a medieval dungeon. Perhaps the most horrifying part of all was that none of this was on the map. It was all supposed to be another block of houses.
“Wh-what the hell!?” Baldur gasped as he looked at the sight before them.
Brooke rolled her eyes at Baldur’s instinctive fear of the unknown. Like the guy couldn’t tear free of any of these devices in under a second, should he somehow find himself locked in them. Admittedly, it was quite an unsettling sight to her, but she knew she needed to press through and be done with this disturbing place. Deciding not to poke her companion’s insecurities, she decided to leave out that this little community area was a recent addition. She just hoped that the object they were searching for wasn’t in one of the leveled houses.
They made their way through the demonic clearing, looking at everything a bit closer as they passed. A horrible stench lingered in the air. The Pale Moors in general smelled like death, but here the stench was close and intimate. She looked down and saw ash lying on the ground by the torches, not yet swept away by the wind. Her own heart pounded. This place had seen use very recently. It was entirely possible that they were not the only ones in the supposedly deserted village at that given moment.
Upon leaving the strange, ritualistic area, they moved down another small street. At the end of it was the house they were seeking, but they both noticed the same thing about it.
“There’s a light in there,” Brooke whispered, watching the soft glow that came from the window.
The words barely escaped her lips before there was a loud sound to the side closest to the human member of their duo. Brooke raised an arm to shield her eyes from the splinters that erupted from the building beside her. This defensive maneuver prevented her from seeing anything else, particularly the object that struck her head and plunged her into unconsciousness.