HOME | DD

Description
I lived for adventure. I loved traveling across the vast landscape, the sun above my head, the grass under my feet and the ruins to explore. Day and night I traveled, resting for as little time as humanly possible in order to see as much of this once great world as I could. This lifestyle was not without its dangers--The undead came crawling out of their holes at night, and there was always the odd brigand-- but I had my trusty iron sword and some nice leather pants colored green from cactus pulp, so I felt safe.
I was heading to a town I knew was nearby to trade and repair my sword. I was supposed to get there by midday. I don't know what happened--more than likely I got turned around--but come nightfall the town was nowhere in sight. Fearlessly I kept searching for the town, hoping to see torches lighting up the night sky to let me know I'd finally made it. I never found it.
The undead came up, rattling skeletons and shambling zombies in their hordes. The masses were especially thick tonight. As I searched I avoided the throngs when I could, strafed and cut my way through them when I couldn't. I was doing pretty well for myself, but then disaster struck.
While I was busy cutting apart three particularly foul smelling zombies I heard a sickening snap and watched with dismay as the top half of my sword went flying off into the grass. "Shit!" Without a second thought I turn and run, sprinting as fast as I could away from the three, leaping without looking over any raised terrain or obstacle in the path of my flight.
I was faster than the zombies without a doubt, but I couldn't shake them. They just kept coming, determined to have a bite of my succulent flesh. I was an idiot, and stopped watching the path in-front of me to look and see how close they were behind me. they were close. And then I fell foot first into a pit someone sometime had dug out.
As I landed there is a crack as my leg broke and I screamed out in pain. I could do nothing but lie in the pit helplessly and watch the sky, moaning. Within moments the zombies were at the edge of the trap I had caught myself in. The searched with that peculiar stiff movement of theirs for a safe way down.
One had just found a way and had started its descent when I heard a soft twang. Out of nowhere a feather sprouted from the zombie's chest. It staggered then fell lifeless into the pit. Several more arrows quickly filled the other two and drained them of their undeath.
Surely I was saved. With that hope I stretched my neck as far as it would go in order to see behind my head and catch my first glimpse of my rescuer. He was a man in all Iron carrying a re-curve bow in his left hand and with a quiver of arrows on his right hip. He looked down into the pit and made a tsking noise. My heart sank. "You poor thing," He almost sang, "There' only one thing I can do for you."
The last thing I saw was him pulling one last arrow from his quiver. Then I closed my eyes and prayed he was aiming for my head.

Description
I lived for adventure. I loved traveling across the vast landscape, the sun above my head, the grass under my feet and the ruins to explore. Day and night I traveled, resting for as little time as humanly possible in order to see as much of this once great world as I could. This lifestyle was not without its dangers--The undead came crawling out of their holes at night, and there was always the odd brigand-- but I had my trusty iron sword and some nice leather pants colored green from cactus pulp, so I felt safe.
I was heading to a town I knew was nearby to trade and repair my sword. I was supposed to get there by midday. I don't know what happened--more than likely I got turned around--but come nightfall the town was nowhere in sight. Fearlessly I kept searching for the town, hoping to see torches lighting up the night sky to let me know I'd finally made it. I never found it.
The undead came up, rattling skeletons and shambling zombies in their hordes. The masses were especially thick tonight. As I searched I avoided the throngs when I could, strafed and cut my way through them when I couldn't. I was doing pretty well for myself, but then disaster struck.
While I was busy cutting apart three particularly foul smelling zombies I heard a sickening snap and watched with dismay as the top half of my sword went flying off into the grass. "Shit!" Without a second thought I turn and run, sprinting as fast as I could away from the three, leaping without looking over any raised terrain or obstacle in the path of my flight.
I was faster than the zombies without a doubt, but I couldn't shake them. They just kept coming, determined to have a bite of my succulent flesh. I was an idiot, and stopped watching the path in-front of me to look and see how close they were behind me. they were close. And then I fell foot first into a pit someone sometime had dug out.
As I landed there is a crack as my leg broke and I screamed out in pain. I could do nothing but lie in the pit helplessly and watch the sky, moaning. Within moments the zombies were at the edge of the trap I had caught myself in. The searched with that peculiar stiff movement of theirs for a safe way down.
One had just found a way and had started its descent when I heard a soft twang. Out of nowhere a feather sprouted from the zombie's chest. It staggered then fell lifeless into the pit. Several more arrows quickly filled the other two and drained them of their undeath.
Surely I was saved. With that hope I stretched my neck as far as it would go in order to see behind my head and catch my first glimpse of my rescuer. He was a man in all Iron carrying a re-curve bow in his left hand and with a quiver of arrows on his right hip. He looked down into the pit and made a tsking noise. My heart sank. "You poor thing," He almost sang, "There' only one thing I can do for you."
The last thing I saw was him pulling one last arrow from his quiver. Then I closed my eyes and prayed he was aiming for my head.