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Man of the Cloth, Man of the Mountain (OPEN)

The third most powerful nation of Feila, ruled by the Canine. The current system of government is Feudalist/Absolute Monarchy, with the monarch as the control of power and the aristocracy. It's military is fourth largest in number, and weaker than Gawain's or Edwin's. It consists of the Domus Army and Navy. It is geographically one of the smaller nations of Feila. Similar to Earth's medieval France.
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Re: Man of the Cloth, Man of the Mountain (OPEN)

Post by The Friar » Sun Apr 29, 2018 11:08 pm

Soon, the sun begins to get lower in the sky, with the diminished light casting a somber pall over the entire journey. In a matter of eerie coincidence, this is also when the path being taken itself becomes ever darker and darker. At this point, the only thing keeping the travelers on the path are the guidance of the scribblings on the trees. The dirt path is completely overgrown with weeds and grass, and completely covered by a layer of leaves and other dead plant matter. The drawings carved into the trees also become significantly more morbid and surreal, particularly those featuring the two stick figures. The two figures are portrayed committing horrific acts towards one another including murder, mutilation, assault, cannibalism, immolation, and other acts which are simply...unspeakable. In all of these disturbing images it is notable that the taller, robed figure is always depicted as the aggressor, or the otherwise dominant party.

At one point, where the leaf litter is particularly deep, there is a bizarre sight before the travelers. In the middle of the path, several feet away from the group, is a dead tree with the face of a male raccoon dog carved into the bark in detail that is a marked upgrade from the stick figures they had seen so far; a primitive, stone hatchet has been buried deep into the center of this carving.
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Re: Man of the Cloth, Man of the Mountain (OPEN)

Post by Chester » Mon Apr 30, 2018 6:56 pm

As the woods surrounding them began to grow more dim by the minute, Chester kept a more frantic eye about him. Although he stopped examining the images a little while back, as they grew more horrific he began to take more interest. Finally his curiosity peaked and he padded over to a nearby tree. Its mangled bark bore a scribbled depiction of a gruesome act, and he began to notice the patterns in similarity between them all, particularly those involving interactions between the two figures. As he ran his fingers over the wood curiously, the handle of the hatchet which jutted out sharply from the wood had caught his eye.

Someone clearly wasn't too terribly happy with this raccoon dog. Chester stared at the disturbing display for but a few moments before glancing up at the mountainside, from which the voice from earlier had shouted from. It would only make sense that the voice belonged to whoever had scrawled such depictions, though he didn't like the thought. As much as he stared at the strange carvings, he could not find meaning in them. Perhaps the fox they were tracking was one of the figures in the depictions, though he didn't know enough about the fox to know which one. Though whoever this strange animal was, Chester decided he wasn't too enthusiastic about meeting him.

Finally deciding he was done staring at the image, Chester pushed onward. Seeing as no more dramatic changes occurred in the carvings, and they all followed the same gruesome pattern, he took no interest unless they strayed from this formula. Thus he kept on the trail, guided by the string of slashed trunks and strange depictions, all of which told him he was on the right path.

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Re: Man of the Cloth, Man of the Mountain (OPEN)

Post by HawkerTheGreat » Fri May 04, 2018 1:56 am

(Forgive the slight wait, irl came up.)

It had grown darker quickly as the sun set and the overhead trees blocked out most of the sky. With a lack of path, the obvious choice was to follow the strange carvings - these only slightly bothered Umbra. Yet he padded along with the group, his bare paws slowing him down in the undergrowth as the terrain began to slope more and more upwards. With a gentle paw, Umbra fumbled with the hooks on his belt, he unhooked a steel lantern. Its sides were protected with glass, which revealed its cloth wick. The top of the cage had its own hook, with a loop that had a steel striking tool and a rough flint shard strung together with a thin cloth strand.

What seemed like a rather fresh wick lighted easily with a careful strike or two from the flint shard, sparks flying wildly from inside the lantern till a steady flame took hold. Once the flame had taken hold and the lantern had been sealed back up, Umbra looped the string tied flint and steel back onto the top of the lantern and hooked it back into the ringed belt holding his Field Plate together with its hauberk vest. While it was still fairly bright, the small flickering flame would make it considerably easier to navigate the mountains once the sun fully set.

Further along the path the carvings became more intense, darker and quite a bit morbid at times. It unsettled the Draconian seeing these images, but none as much as the final one. After Chester moved past the tree, Umbra stepped forward,stepping through the deep litter of leaves in the front of the tree, stopping at the carving. 'Could this perhaps of been the Fourier the female had mentioned? Was he in fact pushed over the edge by the other brothers and sisters of the monastery?' Gripping the handle of the hatchet, Umbra went on about the details Jéanne had mentioned in his head. While it wasn't enough to completely understand the orphan's downfall, it all came together into a terribly sad story.
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