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darkredThough only half again as large as the scrubland across which Slough traveled, the desert proved far vaster than might be expected. The shifting sands troubled the decaying deer’s hooves, slowing her pace drastically. With neither food nor water available, the arid waste tormented Slough by forcing her to rely on her internal life-power for sustenance. In doing so, her body atrophied all the faster, however much it regenerated. If a lost eye were to glimpse the Rottenbone, they would observe little more than a shaggy, shambling skeleton trekking painfully over the barren. Black, foul-smelling rot flowed from her necrotic flesh, but it spattered weakly against the soil, giving rise to only thorny bushes and burrowing flies that might have just as well been dead from the start.
Along with the agony and bleakness, however, another constant presence hounded Slough: the White Giant of Toun. Though she skirted around it just yesterday, the lumbering construct had been following her ever since, spurred on perhaps by its urge to protect life but for all of its might totally unable to render Slough any protection from the harsh elements. Instead, it merely followed, sometimes close enough to provide the dying goddess shade, but often farther back, far enough so that the desert mirage distorted its shape or made it appear to be not one, but two.
When Slough finally crested a dune and glimpsed in the distance an inviting and sparkling line of blue, the White Giant stood alongside her. Eager to sate her thirst, Slough bounded down the sandy slope with a rickety enthusiasm, but paused at the hill’s foot to look back at the unmoving giant. As she watched, the guardian turned around, but not so quickly as to escape the vicious pounce of another creature, like it but malformed and ashen. The two giants rolled down the hill in a pile, fighting brutally all the while. While the pure giant battled with an undiluted strength, its ashy foe exhibited a manic drive and a propensity for growing new limbs to attack with. Panic flooded Slough, freezing her in the spot. In only moments the fight was over; the pure giant lay in still-living pieces, and the Ashling, its hatred craving a greater death, threw itself toward Slough. Only after it struck her and sent her flying, tufts of fur and shards of bone scattered across the sand while she shrieked, did the Rottenbone start to run. From the pieces of herself that fell, twisted briars sprang into existence, tangling the Ashling just long enough for Slough to pick up speed. Blinded by fear and pain, she galloped straight for the Fractal Sea with the Ashling not far behind. Despite all those who pledged to defend life, only the creation of the perfectionist strived to fulfill his pledge, and with it in pitiable chunks, there existed no salvation for the Deepwood’s ghoul.
As Slough neared the sea, the ground grew harder, more dirt and clay than sand but no more green with life. Globules of rot that flew from her body evoked grass and flowers from the surface, but the Ashling thundered over them. If not for the fallen giant’s wounds, it would have caught Slough easily and torn her apart, but the doe managed to douse her ankles in the Fractal Sea’s water before her pursuer could create a lance of ash to gouge her flank and make her fall. Shrieking again, Slough stumbled and flopped onto her side, her empty eye socket fixated upon the mad thing that stood above her. An odd light entered the eye, and before the Ashling could crush her, the light shot from her socket with the force of a cannon to smash against the giant’s head. With a mighty bellow it tumbled backward, shaking the ground with its impact. Slough painstakingly stood up as the white ball of light hovered in front of her, and watched while her rot created a new creature. It appeared to be a lion, red-furred and with the shelled tail of a scorpion, whose gorgeous orange mane opened up into a fanged mouth to snap the orb from the air. After that, the golden eyes of the beast’s mask glared to life.
It looked back at Slough, warily observing, and after a moment prostrated itself before her in a crude imitation of kneeling. The roar of the Ashling, however, caught its intention, and the beast leaped to catch the fallen giant in mid-jump. The two wrestled, claws and fangs ripping and tearing, and this time the Ashling was torn apart.
The next moment, the two beasts stood together on the edge of the Fractal Sea. Slough glanced at the beast, who waited attentively and silently, and she knew it not only meant her no harm, but would be her guardian where the others failed her. She limped to the water’s edge to drink, and Custodian Esau followed suit.
Meanwhile, the scrubland left behind by Slough blossomed into an expansive and beauteous savannah. Hills and odd formation of land, all carpeted by strange gold-flecked grass, interrupted the flatness. Sacs for the first members of new species arose from the ground rather than trees, and life flourished in the Gilt Savannah—now a place of beauty and nature approaching the Deepwood in splendor.
Along with the agony and bleakness, however, another constant presence hounded Slough: the White Giant of Toun. Though she skirted around it just yesterday, the lumbering construct had been following her ever since, spurred on perhaps by its urge to protect life but for all of its might totally unable to render Slough any protection from the harsh elements. Instead, it merely followed, sometimes close enough to provide the dying goddess shade, but often farther back, far enough so that the desert mirage distorted its shape or made it appear to be not one, but two.
When Slough finally crested a dune and glimpsed in the distance an inviting and sparkling line of blue, the White Giant stood alongside her. Eager to sate her thirst, Slough bounded down the sandy slope with a rickety enthusiasm, but paused at the hill’s foot to look back at the unmoving giant. As she watched, the guardian turned around, but not so quickly as to escape the vicious pounce of another creature, like it but malformed and ashen. The two giants rolled down the hill in a pile, fighting brutally all the while. While the pure giant battled with an undiluted strength, its ashy foe exhibited a manic drive and a propensity for growing new limbs to attack with. Panic flooded Slough, freezing her in the spot. In only moments the fight was over; the pure giant lay in still-living pieces, and the Ashling, its hatred craving a greater death, threw itself toward Slough. Only after it struck her and sent her flying, tufts of fur and shards of bone scattered across the sand while she shrieked, did the Rottenbone start to run. From the pieces of herself that fell, twisted briars sprang into existence, tangling the Ashling just long enough for Slough to pick up speed. Blinded by fear and pain, she galloped straight for the Fractal Sea with the Ashling not far behind. Despite all those who pledged to defend life, only the creation of the perfectionist strived to fulfill his pledge, and with it in pitiable chunks, there existed no salvation for the Deepwood’s ghoul.
As Slough neared the sea, the ground grew harder, more dirt and clay than sand but no more green with life. Globules of rot that flew from her body evoked grass and flowers from the surface, but the Ashling thundered over them. If not for the fallen giant’s wounds, it would have caught Slough easily and torn her apart, but the doe managed to douse her ankles in the Fractal Sea’s water before her pursuer could create a lance of ash to gouge her flank and make her fall. Shrieking again, Slough stumbled and flopped onto her side, her empty eye socket fixated upon the mad thing that stood above her. An odd light entered the eye, and before the Ashling could crush her, the light shot from her socket with the force of a cannon to smash against the giant’s head. With a mighty bellow it tumbled backward, shaking the ground with its impact. Slough painstakingly stood up as the white ball of light hovered in front of her, and watched while her rot created a new creature. It appeared to be a lion, red-furred and with the shelled tail of a scorpion, whose gorgeous orange mane opened up into a fanged mouth to snap the orb from the air. After that, the golden eyes of the beast’s mask glared to life.
It looked back at Slough, warily observing, and after a moment prostrated itself before her in a crude imitation of kneeling. The roar of the Ashling, however, caught its intention, and the beast leaped to catch the fallen giant in mid-jump. The two wrestled, claws and fangs ripping and tearing, and this time the Ashling was torn apart.
The next moment, the two beasts stood together on the edge of the Fractal Sea. Slough glanced at the beast, who waited attentively and silently, and she knew it not only meant her no harm, but would be her guardian where the others failed her. She limped to the water’s edge to drink, and Custodian Esau followed suit.
-=-=-
Meanwhile, the scrubland left behind by Slough blossomed into an expansive and beauteous savannah. Hills and odd formation of land, all carpeted by strange gold-flecked grass, interrupted the flatness. Sacs for the first members of new species arose from the ground rather than trees, and life flourished in the Gilt Savannah—now a place of beauty and nature approaching the Deepwood in splendor.
