OP
apocalypticCritic
Demon Girl Master
- Joined
- Oct 18, 2012
- Messages
- 158
- Reputation score
- 11
Re: The Primordial Seed
Vote Results
The girl decided not to consume the crystallized Seed just yet. Better to use it when she was ready for it, after all.
The Deprived was a somewhat tempting target. Too far gone to react to her approach, the man growled and snarled at the wall, smacking his own broken sword against the wall without force. The girl set the hilt of her own knife against the heel of her hand, and struck out quickly, the dagger flashing twice across the Deprived’s back.
It wasn’t even a challenge. The man stiffened, reacting sluggishly to the pain, and started to turn around, before the light faltered in his eyes and he stumbled, then slumped to the ground with a rattling groan. The girl fell to her knees over the Deprived, and began carving the man’s ribcage and stomach open, digging deep into the man’s guts, and focusing for a moment. From deep within him, a milky white globe rose, attached to her hand. A meager amount of Seed - but it was some, and it absorbed readily into the girl’s body through her hand, leaving her covered in slime and gore.
Finally, there was the path. Without any hint, she picked a direction almost at random, heading left down the hall. This path took her down further, winding around a few other empty cells. She could hear a few groans as she walked down, until she came out into the middle of what had once been a common area for the prisoners. Once, it was probably brightly lit, if made of stone, with a small library and several tables. Over the centuries, though, this wing had been almost completely abandoned, save for the prisoner herself. Though apparently other prisoners had been forgotten down here - entering the room, the prisoner found herself facing three Deprived. Like the last, they were not terribly aware - but they were more aware than he was, because two of them turned to face her and groan feebly, and the third stirred and started stumbling forward, hollow eyes locking onto her.
Three Deprived wasn’t much more of a challenge than one, but they were already moving toward her, raising their own weapons. She could retreat - this direction did not take her anywhere useful, anyway - or she could try her luck fighting three - and actually fighting, this time, not just slaughtering a helpless target.
Fight? Or flee?
Vote Results
B, A, Left
The girl decided not to consume the crystallized Seed just yet. Better to use it when she was ready for it, after all.
The Deprived was a somewhat tempting target. Too far gone to react to her approach, the man growled and snarled at the wall, smacking his own broken sword against the wall without force. The girl set the hilt of her own knife against the heel of her hand, and struck out quickly, the dagger flashing twice across the Deprived’s back.
It wasn’t even a challenge. The man stiffened, reacting sluggishly to the pain, and started to turn around, before the light faltered in his eyes and he stumbled, then slumped to the ground with a rattling groan. The girl fell to her knees over the Deprived, and began carving the man’s ribcage and stomach open, digging deep into the man’s guts, and focusing for a moment. From deep within him, a milky white globe rose, attached to her hand. A meager amount of Seed - but it was some, and it absorbed readily into the girl’s body through her hand, leaving her covered in slime and gore.
Finally, there was the path. Without any hint, she picked a direction almost at random, heading left down the hall. This path took her down further, winding around a few other empty cells. She could hear a few groans as she walked down, until she came out into the middle of what had once been a common area for the prisoners. Once, it was probably brightly lit, if made of stone, with a small library and several tables. Over the centuries, though, this wing had been almost completely abandoned, save for the prisoner herself. Though apparently other prisoners had been forgotten down here - entering the room, the prisoner found herself facing three Deprived. Like the last, they were not terribly aware - but they were more aware than he was, because two of them turned to face her and groan feebly, and the third stirred and started stumbling forward, hollow eyes locking onto her.
Three Deprived wasn’t much more of a challenge than one, but they were already moving toward her, raising their own weapons. She could retreat - this direction did not take her anywhere useful, anyway - or she could try her luck fighting three - and actually fighting, this time, not just slaughtering a helpless target.
Fight? Or flee?
A. Fight
B. Flee
B. Flee