Siege of Gundabad RPG

[piosenniel]

Novnarwen's post

He washed, the cold water making him giggle. Roughly, he was rubbing his face, trying to wipe away the dirt. His sister had taught him this. It was like magic, he thought, seeing how within seconds the dirt was gone from his face and he was clean. Watching himself in the mirror, he grabbed the kitchen knife. The brown-grey hair was growing out of his face again, something he found very frustrating. He took a hold of his beard with his left hand, and held the knife in his right. With a sudden movement, he had cut of most of his beard, leaving it uneven. It was burning with pain; his cheek. Red liquid started to run down from his chin, and onto his stubbles. Bending, he plunged his face into his little wash-tub. When rising, he looked satisfyingly into the mirror. After a few seconds however, something red was again running from his chin. Sighing, being rather frustrated, he turned quickly towards the door.

The weather was cold, but pleasant. The sun was casting long beams over the landscape. A thick white carpet was covering what once had been green fields. He frowned. When touching it, his fingers froze. When tasting it, his throat went cold and numb. He dropped dead. He looked down at his feet, pained by the coldness of the snow. He went hurriedly inside, finding his boots. He pulled them on, went for the door and slipped outside again.

He giggled to himself and called out. “Aeeeeeeeeeeieeeeeeeeeeia!” He held his hands in the air, running around and at last casting himself to the ground. The snow was piercing through his thin clothing, making him shiver with cold. He did not care though. The feeling of lying here was too great for him to abandon so quickly. He lay still, taking in the fresh winter air.

For a while, he lay motionless on the ground. At last he could not take it anymore; his teeth chattered, his legs were stiffening and his lips were turning blue. His whole body was trembling. Rising, he heard the sound of heavy boots. Being alarmed, yet not afraid, he looked desperately around. Who was coming at this hour? His sister! His sister! He was about to get up, but then he spotted several figures approaching his cottage. They didn’t at all look like his sister, or any other he had ever met. Not daring to move, he watched them. They were many. He giggled, wanting to run towards them, but his body was stiff, his limbs were numb.

It didn’t take long, before they took their leave again; their heavy boots echoing. Dragging himself forth, he suddenly discovered smoke. His cottage was hid behind a mixture of colours; orange, red and yellow. Slowly, he was drawn by the heat coming from it. He laughed merrily, feeling better at once. After a few hours, his cottage had disappeared; the ground where his cottage had stood was black; just like magic he thought.