Present
Still some time before the sunrays of dawn would kiss this land, and before green and pink would meet at the horizon, I was out in the forest, following my prey. I moved slowly, watching every step I took as with the slightest of noise those black eyes would look in more directions than I ever would be able to. I wondered what magic was responsible for deer possessing eyes that faced sideways, offering them a rather peripheral vision. It has them uniquely adapted to detect and escape those who hunt them. In the world below this crust, almost everything was a predator, but also a prey since there always appeared something bigger, meaner or simply something with teeth that were sharper than the other.
The Surface came across as alien to me, and the first time I started observing these herds of deer, I wondered how it was possible they even existed. They appeared no hunters nor predators themselves, nor were they powerful or did they possess any magical abilities. All they had was their speed and their senses. In the Underdark that wouldn’t be enough, but out here, they simply seemed to exist and even co-exist with those who hunted them. The answer why was rather simple though. There weren’t as many predators on the Surface as in the world below. People, and also deer were relatively safe when considering their death rate in nature.
When considering these woods not even that far from Baldur’s Gate, it was as if I was the only soul to have ever walked here. When I stopped, all I could hear was a very very soft susurration of the leaves in early morning breeze. Normally, this kind of silence would have chilled me in the caverns below, especially when standing in a near inky darkness. But not today, and not out here. With dawn coming, the trees became silent silhouettes against a gradually brightening sky. In the Underdark, path and feet just melt together in blackness and it was undeniably dark like forever.
I froze as there was a crunch of leaf and twig, but it wasn’t me. The deer I was following had started to move again. For a moment I wondered what its thoughts were if it possessed such. These animals were born to live freely and fully, yet at the same time couldn’t always afford to walk with nonchalant ease. Neither were they born to be brave or capable of pushing fear aside. If their young would be in danger, they would likely surrender them, knowing they weren’t able to fight. Perhaps they would mourn over their loss, likely, and their only lesson they may draw from it was perhaps to be more careful next time.
Not careful enough though. The deer neared the glade where I -once it abandoned the bush- would have a clean shot. Already I could see its furry coat shining like silver in the morning twilight. I frowned as I aimed. Maybe…. maybe it prayed for a safe passage. Maybe it was even aware I was there, and it was hoping that it could reach the other side of the forest. Perhaps to reach its herd, or perhaps to find a new. Maybe. But not today.
There was a soft click-thunk of the firing mechanism as I pulled the trigger, followed by muted twang of the crossbow-string. A bolt headed for the deer’s neck which stuck out from the foliage. I know the area where its lungs or heart sat would have been a larger target for a perfect shot and kill, though it was its windpipe which proved more of a challenge. I stepped forward cautiously, and moments later my hand touched the deer’s forehead. Did I feel guilty over how comforting and safe this deer may have considered these assumed empty woods? Have I never turned to Ibrandul and prayed for safe passage through the darkness when I explored the next passage, road or street new to me… ?
Engine of survival - Rift
-
luminus
- Posts: 115
- Joined: Mon Dec 15, 2014 6:39 am
Re: Engine of survival - Rift
Past
Standing surrounded by total silence and darkness is an experience I thought I would never fully grown used to. And it’s not like I was ever blind down there. Luckily I was able to rely on a gift that seems to have been granted through my bloodline, as well as a feat that I have obtained through an evolvement process of long duration. On top of that I have picked up a couple of tricks which allow me to adapt to my environment without the toxic levels of stress a normal surface human would encounter. Of course I’m not so stupid to think that I can outsmart those that have been built upon five thousand years of evolution. But when conditions are good, and with a few subtle physical ‘nudges’ that’ll allow me to either become invisible or become one of them, I actually get a long way.
Naturally, you also have to be willing to use others for whatever means suit your purpose, and you have to be prepared to feel indifferent to their suffering. If you are weak, you need to hunt for your food, if you are cold you have to find ways to warm yourself, and if you don’t want to get petrified you’ll have to lash out at the basilik’s head. Although for the latter I just always carry a mirror with me attached at the inner side of my shield. It’s all rather plain and simple. Face a threat and bypass it like any other problem. Overcoming darkness... I admit, is not easy. Deep within caverns, tunnels and caves, the darkness equals with something like eternity. It’s like an invisible force, ready to crush your body and squeeze the life out of you if you allow it to get to you. That, was my first lesson when I was abducted from the surface…
By the time I met my last master I was already quite the few years there, and still said lesson hadn’t finished for me yet.
Kneeling, I stared at my new tyrant’s feet, feet that were sitting in dusty boots. Under his soles I envisioned the crushed bones, the blood and the tears of creatures and people who even have been better than me. In this lightless realm I, I was nothing. And this wasn’t about just some insecurities. I figured I must have been even less than nothing in his eyes. That is what I assumed cause that is how it always was and always has been to me. I have no idea though why he was just looking down on me without a word, and for so long. It didn’t matter, I thought, since were I to come to them voluntarily, I still would have to give them everything. My heart, my sweat, my body, my blood and my soul. I still would find myself wrapped in chains and beaten with a stick, or worse. Just cause for their pleasure, not because I didn’t obey. Their torture wasn’t just physical either. When they know we have family, they seperate us to make sure we are alone and feeling as such. Children saw their parents never again, just like I did, and any inquiring about them was whipped out of you. They even whipped my name out of me. I no longer possessed one. Names were considered a property and thus illegal for a slave to have.
All that time though, I have tried to regard my body as a sealed cave for a spirit they cannot touch, a spirit with only one desire. A desire of being free. Death was not the answer for this spirit however. So for now, since several years, my eyes were dimmed, I was completely submissive to their abuse, and I pretended to be an empty shell. That is how I sat there, on my knees, with my wrists behind my back and chained to my ankles, like as if I were some dangerous monster. Maybe I had that in me, but I just didn’t realize at the time being. I sensed the sharp stones of the underground merciless pushing into the flesh of my knees and lower legs. Yet, I’ve been through worse. Much… much worse. And strangely enough, that idea gave me some strength, perhaps just a tiniest fraction of hope. The idea of a life where the whip may come down less than regular, filled a moment my mind.
The woman I was was dying already though, no longer the person, the little girl I once used to be. My memory of the surface and of my family has faded over time, and a flashback to my capture seems only linked with puddles of blood that lie dark on a road under a starry night. And about the years after? In my memories I only see looks of annoyance crossing obsidian faces. Like as if I was the one giving them such a hard time. Another mouth to feed. Another back to whip. Every cycle they killed the basis of my original identity a little more. And every day they killed people around me, not always slaves, but often. I had lost so much, if not everything. My body was theirs as well,... that little ember inside, never. And sometimes an ember is all one needs…
He stepped away, without a word, my new master. I watched his boots disappear through a door before I finally dared to look up. Someone grabbed me by my chain, and removed me from the setting like as if I were some material or a piece of equipment...
Maybe I was.
Standing surrounded by total silence and darkness is an experience I thought I would never fully grown used to. And it’s not like I was ever blind down there. Luckily I was able to rely on a gift that seems to have been granted through my bloodline, as well as a feat that I have obtained through an evolvement process of long duration. On top of that I have picked up a couple of tricks which allow me to adapt to my environment without the toxic levels of stress a normal surface human would encounter. Of course I’m not so stupid to think that I can outsmart those that have been built upon five thousand years of evolution. But when conditions are good, and with a few subtle physical ‘nudges’ that’ll allow me to either become invisible or become one of them, I actually get a long way.
Naturally, you also have to be willing to use others for whatever means suit your purpose, and you have to be prepared to feel indifferent to their suffering. If you are weak, you need to hunt for your food, if you are cold you have to find ways to warm yourself, and if you don’t want to get petrified you’ll have to lash out at the basilik’s head. Although for the latter I just always carry a mirror with me attached at the inner side of my shield. It’s all rather plain and simple. Face a threat and bypass it like any other problem. Overcoming darkness... I admit, is not easy. Deep within caverns, tunnels and caves, the darkness equals with something like eternity. It’s like an invisible force, ready to crush your body and squeeze the life out of you if you allow it to get to you. That, was my first lesson when I was abducted from the surface…
By the time I met my last master I was already quite the few years there, and still said lesson hadn’t finished for me yet.
Kneeling, I stared at my new tyrant’s feet, feet that were sitting in dusty boots. Under his soles I envisioned the crushed bones, the blood and the tears of creatures and people who even have been better than me. In this lightless realm I, I was nothing. And this wasn’t about just some insecurities. I figured I must have been even less than nothing in his eyes. That is what I assumed cause that is how it always was and always has been to me. I have no idea though why he was just looking down on me without a word, and for so long. It didn’t matter, I thought, since were I to come to them voluntarily, I still would have to give them everything. My heart, my sweat, my body, my blood and my soul. I still would find myself wrapped in chains and beaten with a stick, or worse. Just cause for their pleasure, not because I didn’t obey. Their torture wasn’t just physical either. When they know we have family, they seperate us to make sure we are alone and feeling as such. Children saw their parents never again, just like I did, and any inquiring about them was whipped out of you. They even whipped my name out of me. I no longer possessed one. Names were considered a property and thus illegal for a slave to have.
All that time though, I have tried to regard my body as a sealed cave for a spirit they cannot touch, a spirit with only one desire. A desire of being free. Death was not the answer for this spirit however. So for now, since several years, my eyes were dimmed, I was completely submissive to their abuse, and I pretended to be an empty shell. That is how I sat there, on my knees, with my wrists behind my back and chained to my ankles, like as if I were some dangerous monster. Maybe I had that in me, but I just didn’t realize at the time being. I sensed the sharp stones of the underground merciless pushing into the flesh of my knees and lower legs. Yet, I’ve been through worse. Much… much worse. And strangely enough, that idea gave me some strength, perhaps just a tiniest fraction of hope. The idea of a life where the whip may come down less than regular, filled a moment my mind.
The woman I was was dying already though, no longer the person, the little girl I once used to be. My memory of the surface and of my family has faded over time, and a flashback to my capture seems only linked with puddles of blood that lie dark on a road under a starry night. And about the years after? In my memories I only see looks of annoyance crossing obsidian faces. Like as if I was the one giving them such a hard time. Another mouth to feed. Another back to whip. Every cycle they killed the basis of my original identity a little more. And every day they killed people around me, not always slaves, but often. I had lost so much, if not everything. My body was theirs as well,... that little ember inside, never. And sometimes an ember is all one needs…
He stepped away, without a word, my new master. I watched his boots disappear through a door before I finally dared to look up. Someone grabbed me by my chain, and removed me from the setting like as if I were some material or a piece of equipment...
Maybe I was.
-
luminus
- Posts: 115
- Joined: Mon Dec 15, 2014 6:39 am
Re: Engine of survival - Rift
Present
Humans…
They both claim and appear to be a race that is among one of the most adaptive species on the Surface. And yet, when I observe them, they are also among the first to complain or even cry when things don’t go the way they are ‘supposed’ to.
It’s truly a sad conclusion I have reached based upon small encounters, cause for a moment I found myself… fascinated by them. If there was at least one race in this world that truly could survive anything… then it would have been humans. Or so I thought.
And yes, I do realize I am part human as well.
They however do not seem to fully realize that change is the one constant in life. It’s actually a law for that matter. They should not be bleating like those woolly creatures on four legs, but prepare for said change. It both saves time and resources, and offers control and choice. That is how one grows resilient, and gets prepared for unexpected events.
If I would have resigned to my fate as a slave, and suffered from passivity without prospect, I likely would have killed myself, even if not physically. Instead, by turning it around, I learned to survive. They speak about a comfort zone. I have the power of choice.
And even with all that knowledge I am gathering… I find it hard to survive in this world myself. I sense I do not connect well, whilst I see others do so with an ease that is on par with my skill to navigate through the world under the Surface.
Today I’ve tried to make a list of the most scary things I could do in my life. It was hard to sum up a sufficient number of things, but what ‘shines’ at the top are steady social encounters. I’m not afraid to approach people, nor to stand with them. Nor am I afraid to address them. But to truly remain with them for a longer period, or meet again, or schedule recurring moments. No, I can’t allow to start feel like I’m depending on others rather than myself. Others cannot guarantee my survival.
Only I can. With Ibrandul’s will.
Eventually I will solve the ‘matter’. I only don’t know how yet.
Humans…
They both claim and appear to be a race that is among one of the most adaptive species on the Surface. And yet, when I observe them, they are also among the first to complain or even cry when things don’t go the way they are ‘supposed’ to.
It’s truly a sad conclusion I have reached based upon small encounters, cause for a moment I found myself… fascinated by them. If there was at least one race in this world that truly could survive anything… then it would have been humans. Or so I thought.
And yes, I do realize I am part human as well.
They however do not seem to fully realize that change is the one constant in life. It’s actually a law for that matter. They should not be bleating like those woolly creatures on four legs, but prepare for said change. It both saves time and resources, and offers control and choice. That is how one grows resilient, and gets prepared for unexpected events.
If I would have resigned to my fate as a slave, and suffered from passivity without prospect, I likely would have killed myself, even if not physically. Instead, by turning it around, I learned to survive. They speak about a comfort zone. I have the power of choice.
And even with all that knowledge I am gathering… I find it hard to survive in this world myself. I sense I do not connect well, whilst I see others do so with an ease that is on par with my skill to navigate through the world under the Surface.
Today I’ve tried to make a list of the most scary things I could do in my life. It was hard to sum up a sufficient number of things, but what ‘shines’ at the top are steady social encounters. I’m not afraid to approach people, nor to stand with them. Nor am I afraid to address them. But to truly remain with them for a longer period, or meet again, or schedule recurring moments. No, I can’t allow to start feel like I’m depending on others rather than myself. Others cannot guarantee my survival.
Only I can. With Ibrandul’s will.
Eventually I will solve the ‘matter’. I only don’t know how yet.