It was awful. The night seemed to last forever, and they couldn't change anything about the outcome. The hunt was supposed to be a success, but there was nothing even remotely successful about this. All of the deer that were supposed to be migrating north across the sparsely forested plains were dead. It wasn't as if they'd been killed by predators such as umber wolves or cave bears —but instead, it was something far more sinister in design; it appeared as if the deer had been dead for quite some time. Their carcasses were rotted inside-out; no hint of viscera was left —just husks of loose skin and fur sagging over brittle bones. The smell was so putrid that the misty fog surrounding the corpse-herd had turned a sickly green; it stung the group's eyes, and even had a taste —reminiscent of the most bitter anesthesia imaginable mixed with eggs that had been sitting under a desert sun for weeks. The muddy ground beneath their feet felt like a bubbling swamp of stomach acid and postmortem death juices.Hundreds, possibly thousands of silvertail deer —and they were all long dead.
Layne awoke with a silent start —he briefly panned his eyes across the room, just to be certain, but saw nothing. The dream he'd had started pleasantly, but went horribly wrong faster than he cared to recall; peculiarly, the fear eased itself within moments, and he was able to fall back asleep —albeit with a hint of caution. Beside him on the floor below, Ren was sleeping lightly, perhaps also dreaming —with little regard for her friend's sudden awakening.
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Come morning, and all the memories of last night's dream had receded; Layne woke up first, dressing himself and walking downstairs to prepare breakfast. Dragging the bear pelt carpet aside, he lifted a hatch that led to the food cellar, which was always kept cool by the lack of sunlight. He pulled a string and lit a small lantern that dangled from the ceiling at the center of the room. There were shelves, counters, and cabinets lining the walls —he had recently restocked on bread, cheese, and spices thanks to the surprisingly large amount of imperial welfare he'd received last night.
He picked up an old kitchen knife from atop a small wooden stool to his left; walking over to the pantry, he removed three pocket-sized wheels of cheese, each of a different kind, and set them down on a mahogany cutting board —slicing them each into bite-sized cubes as he'd done to the hunk of venison from yesterday.
Picking out a basket of gray mushrooms, he poured them into a tin strainer and rinsed them underneath a sink at the back of the room; he moved back to the counter, pouring the mushrooms onto the cutting board with the cheese cubes and using the knife to section them. Striding up into the living room, he briefly traveled to the garden outside, harvesting seven carrots and four potatoes before climbing downstairs once more to slice them on the cutting board with the cheese cubes and mushrooms. Kneeling down and opening one of the many cabinets in the cellar, he took out a jar of made-from-scratch, creamy tomato soup; removing a large maple wood bowl from the same cabinet he'd found the soup, he set it down on the counter, pulled the lid from the soup jar, and poured it in along with the other ingredients on the cutting board.
Upon climbing back upstairs and tasting the leftover venison, Layne found that it would go well with his concoction; instead of preparing a separate dish, he poured it in with the stew to save time. Setting his breakfast stew down on the dining table, he closed the cellar hatch and placed the carpet back on top of it.
He heard Ren shifting around upstairs; she'd woken up relatively late by hunter standards, at about five thirty in the morning. Hunters were always supposed to either get up at the crack of dawn, or just stay home; it quite frankly irritated him for her to be so sluggish —especially after her rant from yesterday about not wanting to hunt with "slow pokes." Still, he chose to humor her and let it go.
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Dark Earth: Nocturne (I)
FantastiqueLayne was an average citizen in Maire Village, foraging and hunting solely for food. He lived frugally and humbly, as anyone would. While out on an expedition with his friends, he's captured by a shadowy figure and taken to a tomblike prison of nig...