Topic: Introduction to The Fellsmire
FractalDactyl started this discussion 13 years ago #28,998
He was a hunter of sorts, however, not in the typical sense. He lives among the wet and cold muck of The Fellsmire, a smear of filth painted across the Brighthaven Woodland. The bog is sunk into the ground, like a stagnant canyon and is forever blanketed in fog. A large handful of unlucky souls, including this hunter, call the place home. He just left one of the few dry spots of the swamp, a spit of mud winding between the trees that had managed to rise up above the waterline. The hunter's boots were now half submerged in the water, a filthy brew composed of three parts water, three parts muck and too many parts bad luck. Water seeped in through the soles of his shoes, the chill being an understood discomfort that he was all too familiar with. It seemed that no matter how many times you oil slicked your boots, The Fellsmire always found its way in. He thought something brushed against his leg as he waded deeper into the murky waters, but whether it was a creature or his own uneasiness would forever be unknown to him. Upon clearing the skeletal trees, he happened upon the rotting wooden ruins of a settlement before his time.
When The Fellsmire was first discovered, the land was bought by several families, just a few gold pieces per acre. The foolish settlers had high hopes for their new land and attempted to colonize the area by creating stilt houses in the water. It only took a generation's folks to discover that the mud bars provided the only suitable ground. But where there were dead homes, there were also dead people. The hunter found a small floating board, half rotted away. Barely visible words were carved into it. When there was no land to bury someone, this was what you did. He pulled the board and the attached rope up, revealing a bundle of bones, weighted with rocks. He began the morbid task of inspecting each one, putting his ear up to it, listening for the faint crackling sound of the bonewurm larva. A waterlogged forearm held his prize, and he snapped the bone over his knee, the wet and sickening crack seemingly lingering in the air for a few extra seconds longer than it should. He inspected the marrow free remains and scooped the chattering wurm larva out, emptying it into a small vial. After completing the grim task, he gathered his things and set out for drier land.
He had made his way back to his boat, a long and narrow flat bottomed canoe, guided by the hunter's intuition and a lantern that hung from the bow, which did next to nothing against the blanketing mist. But after spending your life in The Fellsmire, the ever changing swamp could only do so much against your muscle memory. Before long, he had reached his cabin, a creaky little shack on the outskirts of a small settlement. The place smelled of rotting wood and a mixture of potions' past. He gathered various vials and jars of mysterious liquids and homemade brews, bundles of strange plants, and small bags of rarer components. He set to work, mixing and mashing with his mortar and pestle, creating a thick paste. Finally, he added today's catch: the bonewurm larva. The hunter smirked at his finished product. Just add water and you had the perfect alchemical method of tracking a witch....
When The Fellsmire was first discovered, the land was bought by several families, just a few gold pieces per acre. The foolish settlers had high hopes for their new land and attempted to colonize the area by creating stilt houses in the water. It only took a generation's folks to discover that the mud bars provided the only suitable ground. But where there were dead homes, there were also dead people. The hunter found a small floating board, half rotted away. Barely visible words were carved into it. When there was no land to bury someone, this was what you did. He pulled the board and the attached rope up, revealing a bundle of bones, weighted with rocks. He began the morbid task of inspecting each one, putting his ear up to it, listening for the faint crackling sound of the bonewurm larva. A waterlogged forearm held his prize, and he snapped the bone over his knee, the wet and sickening crack seemingly lingering in the air for a few extra seconds longer than it should. He inspected the marrow free remains and scooped the chattering wurm larva out, emptying it into a small vial. After completing the grim task, he gathered his things and set out for drier land.
He had made his way back to his boat, a long and narrow flat bottomed canoe, guided by the hunter's intuition and a lantern that hung from the bow, which did next to nothing against the blanketing mist. But after spending your life in The Fellsmire, the ever changing swamp could only do so much against your muscle memory. Before long, he had reached his cabin, a creaky little shack on the outskirts of a small settlement. The place smelled of rotting wood and a mixture of potions' past. He gathered various vials and jars of mysterious liquids and homemade brews, bundles of strange plants, and small bags of rarer components. He set to work, mixing and mashing with his mortar and pestle, creating a thick paste. Finally, he added today's catch: the bonewurm larva. The hunter smirked at his finished product. Just add water and you had the perfect alchemical method of tracking a witch....
Anonymous B joined in and replied with this 13 years ago, 4 minutes later[^] [v] #426,107
@OP
What is love?
What is love?
Anonymous C joined in and replied with this 13 years ago, 1 hour later, 1 hour after the original post[^] [v] #426,108
Anonymous B replied with this 13 years ago, 3 minutes later, 1 hour after the original post[^] [v] #426,109
Freddie Mercury !wY5SpLUKH. joined in and replied with this 13 years ago, 24 seconds later, 1 hour after the original post[^] [v] #426,110
Anonymous B replied with this 13 years ago, 9 minutes later, 1 hour after the original post[^] [v] #426,111
@previous (Freddie Mercury !wY5SpLUKH.)
What is Schtick?
to the tune of Haddaway's What is Love
What is schtick
Oh baby, don't troll me
Don't troll me no more
Oh, baby don't troll me
Don't troll me no more
What is schtick
Yeah!
Oh, I don't know it's up in the air
I think there's a real "you" in there
So what is true and what are lies
Gimme a sign
What is schtick
Oh baby, don't troll me
Don't troll me no more
x2
Oh, I don't know, where you begin
and where your persona ends
I keep reading posts, searching for you
I can't go on
What is schtick
Oh baby, don't troll me
Don't troll me no more
x2
Whoa whoa whoa, oooh oooh
Whoa whoa whoa, oooh oooh
What is schtick, oooh, oooh, oooh
What is schtick, oooh, oooh, oooh
What is Schtick?
to the tune of Haddaway's What is Love
What is schtick
Oh baby, don't troll me
Don't troll me no more
Oh, baby don't troll me
Don't troll me no more
What is schtick
Yeah!
Oh, I don't know it's up in the air
I think there's a real "you" in there
So what is true and what are lies
Gimme a sign
What is schtick
Oh baby, don't troll me
Don't troll me no more
x2
Oh, I don't know, where you begin
and where your persona ends
I keep reading posts, searching for you
I can't go on
What is schtick
Oh baby, don't troll me
Don't troll me no more
x2
Whoa whoa whoa, oooh oooh
Whoa whoa whoa, oooh oooh
What is schtick, oooh, oooh, oooh
What is schtick, oooh, oooh, oooh
Anonymous C replied with this 13 years ago, 29 minutes later, 1 hour after the original post[^] [v] #426,114
Anonymous B replied with this 13 years ago, 3 minutes later, 2 hours after the original post[^] [v] #426,116
beckyderp !8ElfFaoFao joined in and replied with this 13 years ago, 4 hours later, 6 hours after the original post[^] [v] #426,129
I like it.
Anonymous F joined in and replied with this 13 years ago, 2 hours later, 8 hours after the original post[^] [v] #426,152
Is this Cathy's autistic friend?
TTEH !JXsxEkDBLs joined in and replied with this 13 years ago, 8 minutes later, 8 hours after the original post[^] [v] #426,155
Fake anon !ZkUt8arUCU joined in and replied with this 13 years ago, 2 days later, 2 days after the original post[^] [v] #426,516
bump