Post by stretch on Jun 18, 2016 8:09:35 GMT -5
The village was a ruin, skeletal building frames jabbing out of piles of ash. Django and Thistle were in the distance arguing, probably because Django thought this treasure wasn't shiny enough. It may not be too shiny, but there was lots of it!
Stretch crept across the the heaps of ash on all fours, his overlong limbs giving the appearance of a humanoid spider, snuffling at the ground like a truffle pig. He'd already found half of a doll, two unburned chair legs, and seven human teeth. An excellent haul for four hours of treasure hunting. And then he came across something shiny.
The handle of the rod was ebony as dark as midnight, wrapped in wide strips of human flesh. It tapered only slightly to the child's skull that topped it, held in place by eight serrated spikes. Stretch stared at this incredibly shiny and spiky treasure, then scuttled at top speed to where Django and Thistle were arguing.
"It's to throw the high-altitude spy dragons off our- what is little guy?" Thistle was packing the bowl of a pipe as Stretch arrived, squatting down to her level.
"Look at this. It's shiny, it's great shiny!" Stretch put the ebony rod, now humming slightly as the light around it grew dim, into his mouth and started chewing on it. There was a gust of cold win, a far off echoing scream, and with the sound of men being decapitated by fish hooks a rend, purple and black, was ripped into the empty air in front of the trio. From within could be heard thousands of voices, obviously in pain, chanting in Latin ominously. A silhouette formed in the center of the darkening rift, drawing ever closer to the edge of the portal.
"Wull," Stretch said, the end of the rod still wedged in his mouth, "I wundur who thet ish."
Stretch crept across the the heaps of ash on all fours, his overlong limbs giving the appearance of a humanoid spider, snuffling at the ground like a truffle pig. He'd already found half of a doll, two unburned chair legs, and seven human teeth. An excellent haul for four hours of treasure hunting. And then he came across something shiny.
The handle of the rod was ebony as dark as midnight, wrapped in wide strips of human flesh. It tapered only slightly to the child's skull that topped it, held in place by eight serrated spikes. Stretch stared at this incredibly shiny and spiky treasure, then scuttled at top speed to where Django and Thistle were arguing.
"It's to throw the high-altitude spy dragons off our- what is little guy?" Thistle was packing the bowl of a pipe as Stretch arrived, squatting down to her level.
"Look at this. It's shiny, it's great shiny!" Stretch put the ebony rod, now humming slightly as the light around it grew dim, into his mouth and started chewing on it. There was a gust of cold win, a far off echoing scream, and with the sound of men being decapitated by fish hooks a rend, purple and black, was ripped into the empty air in front of the trio. From within could be heard thousands of voices, obviously in pain, chanting in Latin ominously. A silhouette formed in the center of the darkening rift, drawing ever closer to the edge of the portal.
"Wull," Stretch said, the end of the rod still wedged in his mouth, "I wundur who thet ish."
