Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27550231-20170522170711/@comment-27550231-20170522170733

It all seemed like a dream, the battle, the monsters, and they very town he fought in. It was all so… surreal. Everything was a blur; a fever dream of sorts and it refused to end. The world shook to and fro as if it all rested on the decks of a great galleon out on the open seas. He does not know when he escaped the noxious sewers, nor he does not know how he entered this forsaken forest nor does he care. All that he can think about is the never-ending agony he suffers from the gaping wound in his neck and the blurry visage of his daughter… one that grows more and more convoluted with every passing second. His life was a living hell at the moment. His loved ones lost, his home tarnished, a fugitive on the run and now fallen from the goddess’s grace. Jorge braces against what seemed to be a tree to catch his breath but instead falls to his knees and starts to cough up red sputum. “Gahhh! Haaa! Haaaaa! Daaaa- it…” His vision clears up just slightly as he looks up at the tree and sees it move, reaching for him. In his weakened state Jorge cannot defend himself from the Dryad, the living tree, and forces himself to stand and painfully stumbles away from the monster. The fog comes and goes with every ragged breath he takes giving him fading glimpses of his surroundings and the dangers that lurked around every corner. Jorge was not a man who knew the fear of death; well he has not known true fear in years but this day he learned. He learned what those who fought him felt. He learned what his family felt. He learned to fear and respect death.

“Neiiiiiiiggggh!”

Jorge stops dead in his tracks frantically looking for the origin of the sound. [What was that?] He thought to himself. [It’s almost as if I heard a horse?] He paused for a full minute before continuing on his path but this time a little faster than before. His vision continued to fade in and out with every painful breath he took and he cursed every second that he continued to suffer.

''“What’s the matter? Are you ok?”'' A small fairy flew by him; the small glowing ball hovered before his helm buzzing incessantly. “Go away.” He struggled to mutter, the words caused him great pain and his grip on his throat tightened. ''“You sure? You don’t seem to be alroight… Looks like you got conked real good you did! And you’re bleeding.”'' Jorge rolled his eyes as he grunted and continued to limp along. [You don’t say you absolute genius! I’d crush you if… if… forget it.] ''“What happened? Cheshire got your tongue? Hehehehehe!” ''The fairies high pitched voice was getting on Jorge’s nerves and the thought of crushing the small creature grew more and more appealing. She waits for half a minute before she starts to talk again. ''“Strong silent type is you? Well that’s alroight. The girls saw you limping into the woods but you ignored them when they hollered at you. They was awfully worried about you mister! There’s a big kerfuffle going on in the desert a stretch away and we was worried you might have came from there.”'' Jorge slowly reaches for the smiling fairy until he hears it. A deep and sinister laugh followed by the neighing of a horse.

“AHAHAHAHAHA!”

“NEEEIIIIIIGGGHH!”

A thick fog rolls in blotting out the sky and the forest goes silent save for his ragged and labored breathing. [What’s going on?] The knight’s head darted left and right as the galloping got closer and closer and louder and louder. Jorge limped forward in a desperate attempt to escape as fear dug deeply into him on an instinctual level. He huffed and puffed as the clopping circled him. His pace quickened as he no longer cared the direction he was heading to all he wanted to do was escape whatever specter was haunting him.