Post by Angelo on Apr 19, 2016 7:52:06 GMT
Using this place as a placeholder for my post. Seeing as there is no Work in Progress section here for posts.
Angelo knelt in a bed of trampled grass and scanned the tracks with a practiced eye. The prints told him that the boar had been in the meadow half an hour ago. Soon, the pack would lie down for the night. His target, a small wolf with a slight limp on its right forefoot, was still with the herd. He was amazed that the wolf made it soo far without falling behind or being targeted by a kobold. The boy guessed that its injured leg wasn't serious enough.
The sky was clear and dark, and a slight breeze stirred the air. A wispy cloud drifted over the forest that surrounded him, its edges glowing with the faint light that was cast from the silvery moon above. The trees rustled ominously and emitted a sound that almost sounded like a moan. A brooding mist crept along the forest's floor, almost thick enough to obscure his feet.
Angelo was seventeen, less than a year from adulthood. Trimmed eyebrows rested over his emerald-colored eyes, staring farther down the path where the wolves went. His original clothing was black in color, with minor variations to the shirt and pants. The boy opted not to wear the beginner's armor; his reasoning being that it would create less sound and friction, as well as make his body considerably lighter, making his footsteps lighter and more nimble. A long curved sword rested by his hip, sheathed in an identically-shaped leather cover.
The wolf had led him deep into the Dark Forest, a mysterious forest area that spanned the edges of the very first floor of Aincrad. Strange tales were spoken about the forest, about how people can wander endlessly into the forest and never reach the end unless they turn around or how the sound of kobolds enticed adventurers, only to never be seen again. Despite that, Angelo did not fear the forest. This was his rite of passage to make himself believe that he could complete the hundred floors. If he couldn't complete this task by himself, then why should he even try later on? It has been several hours from the beginning of his hunt, and his food rations were starting to become low. If he couldn't kill the wolf, he would be forced to return back to the Town of Beginnings empty-handed, with nothing to show of his success.
Angelo stood with quiet reassurance in the dusky moonlight, then strode into the forest toward a clearing where he was sure the wolves would rest. He looked at the tracks occasionally so he would not lose his way. At the clearing, he unsheathed his sword and knelt down low to the ground. The moonlight revealed seven or so motionless lumps where the wolves lay in the grass. The wolf he had wanted was at the edge of the pack, its right foreleg splayed out awkwardly to the side.
The white-haired boy slowly crept closer and closer, keeping his sword steady. All of the work he put into this past half day would culminate at this specific moment. He took a last steadying breath and—a roar rang out close by. The pack bolted. Angelo lunged forward, racing through the grass as the thick mist parted. He slid closer to the running wolf and took a swing at the fleeing target. He missed by an inch as the wolf bounded away into the darkness. The teenager cursed and turned his head to the direction of the roar. It sounded like a kobold, and it was awfully close to the level one player.
Mist was flowing randomly in every direction while his eyes were trained in the approximate direction of the kobold's roar. The green-eyed teen quickly hid behind a tree. He watched for danger for several long minutes, but the only thing that moved was the mist. Cautiously, he released the grip on his sword slowly and was about to move forward. Moonlight cast the towering kobold in a pale shadow as it appeared from across the clearing. Its nose was sniffing the air, trying to figure out what exactly was in his forest. It wore a leather harness on its chest and black cloth pants. On its back was a gigantic two-handed axe. For a moment, the kobold's head turned in the direction of where Angelo was hiding. The boy kept his breathing as silent and composed as much as he could do, but sweat was already starting to form on his forehead. He would die should the giant kobold spot him. Several more minutes passed as the kobold moved closer and closer to where the white-haired boy was. He closed his eyes and was already resigned to death, fully knowing that it wouldn't take long before he would be found.
Another roar emanated from the northern side of the clearing, drawing the kobold's attention away from Angelo. It unsheathed its axe and held it in one hand. It growled and began walking out of the clearing. The boy would remain still for about half an hour. A flicker of indecision ran through him, but decided to move out of the forest. It was already too late in the night for him to stay here. As fast as he could run, the teenager dashed out towards the forest's edge, eager to leave the nightmarish location.
After an hour of travelling south in the Great Plains, Angelo spotted the familiar sight of white walls. The Town of Beginnings. A heavy fog clung to the ground, obscuring Angelo's sight of the town's gate until a westerly wind blew the mist away. The town was contained behind a white wall—fifty feet tall and five feet thick—and a walkway on top for sightseeing. Two guards stood outside of the town with their spears, blocking the way inside. The teenager guessed that because it was soo late in the night, they were posted to keep any monsters or red players out of the town. He walked towards the gate, appearing as casual as he could. When they noticed him coming, they straightened themselves and blocked the gate with their weapons.
"Halt! What's yer name?" one of the guards asked in a bored tone.
"Angelo. I'm a green player, as you can see," replied the boy, pointing at the location of the invisible crystal on his head. Although one could see other people's crystals that indicates what morality level they have, they couldn't see their own. Green was good. No recent misdemeanors or anything bad of sorts. Yellow was minor problems that had occurred recently. Orange was a grave offense that wouldn't allow you to go inside any town. Examples were murder and repeated theft.
"Alrighty. Head on in, but don't cause a disturbance." The spears parted, allowing Angelo to proceed through the gate and reenter the Town of Beginnings. The stalls lining the streets were abandoned, its owners sleeping soundly in their beds at this time. The lack of people gave this safe haven on the first floor an entirely different vibe compared to
The Moving Of Bodies
The Moving Of Bodies
Angelo knelt in a bed of trampled grass and scanned the tracks with a practiced eye. The prints told him that the boar had been in the meadow half an hour ago. Soon, the pack would lie down for the night. His target, a small wolf with a slight limp on its right forefoot, was still with the herd. He was amazed that the wolf made it soo far without falling behind or being targeted by a kobold. The boy guessed that its injured leg wasn't serious enough.
The sky was clear and dark, and a slight breeze stirred the air. A wispy cloud drifted over the forest that surrounded him, its edges glowing with the faint light that was cast from the silvery moon above. The trees rustled ominously and emitted a sound that almost sounded like a moan. A brooding mist crept along the forest's floor, almost thick enough to obscure his feet.
Angelo was seventeen, less than a year from adulthood. Trimmed eyebrows rested over his emerald-colored eyes, staring farther down the path where the wolves went. His original clothing was black in color, with minor variations to the shirt and pants. The boy opted not to wear the beginner's armor; his reasoning being that it would create less sound and friction, as well as make his body considerably lighter, making his footsteps lighter and more nimble. A long curved sword rested by his hip, sheathed in an identically-shaped leather cover.
The wolf had led him deep into the Dark Forest, a mysterious forest area that spanned the edges of the very first floor of Aincrad. Strange tales were spoken about the forest, about how people can wander endlessly into the forest and never reach the end unless they turn around or how the sound of kobolds enticed adventurers, only to never be seen again. Despite that, Angelo did not fear the forest. This was his rite of passage to make himself believe that he could complete the hundred floors. If he couldn't complete this task by himself, then why should he even try later on? It has been several hours from the beginning of his hunt, and his food rations were starting to become low. If he couldn't kill the wolf, he would be forced to return back to the Town of Beginnings empty-handed, with nothing to show of his success.
Angelo stood with quiet reassurance in the dusky moonlight, then strode into the forest toward a clearing where he was sure the wolves would rest. He looked at the tracks occasionally so he would not lose his way. At the clearing, he unsheathed his sword and knelt down low to the ground. The moonlight revealed seven or so motionless lumps where the wolves lay in the grass. The wolf he had wanted was at the edge of the pack, its right foreleg splayed out awkwardly to the side.
The white-haired boy slowly crept closer and closer, keeping his sword steady. All of the work he put into this past half day would culminate at this specific moment. He took a last steadying breath and—a roar rang out close by. The pack bolted. Angelo lunged forward, racing through the grass as the thick mist parted. He slid closer to the running wolf and took a swing at the fleeing target. He missed by an inch as the wolf bounded away into the darkness. The teenager cursed and turned his head to the direction of the roar. It sounded like a kobold, and it was awfully close to the level one player.
Mist was flowing randomly in every direction while his eyes were trained in the approximate direction of the kobold's roar. The green-eyed teen quickly hid behind a tree. He watched for danger for several long minutes, but the only thing that moved was the mist. Cautiously, he released the grip on his sword slowly and was about to move forward. Moonlight cast the towering kobold in a pale shadow as it appeared from across the clearing. Its nose was sniffing the air, trying to figure out what exactly was in his forest. It wore a leather harness on its chest and black cloth pants. On its back was a gigantic two-handed axe. For a moment, the kobold's head turned in the direction of where Angelo was hiding. The boy kept his breathing as silent and composed as much as he could do, but sweat was already starting to form on his forehead. He would die should the giant kobold spot him. Several more minutes passed as the kobold moved closer and closer to where the white-haired boy was. He closed his eyes and was already resigned to death, fully knowing that it wouldn't take long before he would be found.
Another roar emanated from the northern side of the clearing, drawing the kobold's attention away from Angelo. It unsheathed its axe and held it in one hand. It growled and began walking out of the clearing. The boy would remain still for about half an hour. A flicker of indecision ran through him, but decided to move out of the forest. It was already too late in the night for him to stay here. As fast as he could run, the teenager dashed out towards the forest's edge, eager to leave the nightmarish location.
After an hour of travelling south in the Great Plains, Angelo spotted the familiar sight of white walls. The Town of Beginnings. A heavy fog clung to the ground, obscuring Angelo's sight of the town's gate until a westerly wind blew the mist away. The town was contained behind a white wall—fifty feet tall and five feet thick—and a walkway on top for sightseeing. Two guards stood outside of the town with their spears, blocking the way inside. The teenager guessed that because it was soo late in the night, they were posted to keep any monsters or red players out of the town. He walked towards the gate, appearing as casual as he could. When they noticed him coming, they straightened themselves and blocked the gate with their weapons.
"Halt! What's yer name?" one of the guards asked in a bored tone.
"Angelo. I'm a green player, as you can see," replied the boy, pointing at the location of the invisible crystal on his head. Although one could see other people's crystals that indicates what morality level they have, they couldn't see their own. Green was good. No recent misdemeanors or anything bad of sorts. Yellow was minor problems that had occurred recently. Orange was a grave offense that wouldn't allow you to go inside any town. Examples were murder and repeated theft.
"Alrighty. Head on in, but don't cause a disturbance." The spears parted, allowing Angelo to proceed through the gate and reenter the Town of Beginnings. The stalls lining the streets were abandoned, its owners sleeping soundly in their beds at this time. The lack of people gave this safe haven on the first floor an entirely different vibe compared to