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allornothing

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  1. allornothing

    all0rnothing

    You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.” ((How do you respond?)) Abdi nods, his gaze shifting from the dimly lit surroundings to the mysterious old hag. He takes a cautious step forward, his voice steady but laced with curiosity. "I've heard whispers of this place, tales of secrets hidden in the shadows, and mysteries waiting to be unraveled. I've come seeking answers, seeking guidance, for there's something that tugs at my very soul. What can you tell me, wise one? How did you know I was coming?" He lowers himself onto the cushion, still observing the hag with a mix of respect and anticipation. "My story is a long and winding one, filled with encounters and choices that have led me here. But it's the next chapter that concerns me most. What do you see in my path, and how can you help me find the answers I seek?"
  2. allornothing

    madaboutafrica

    Zlog was born into an orc tribe indigineous to an archipelago located far off the coast of Arcas, a group that had left Arcas long ago to live away from the materialistic struggles of men. He was born to shipmaster Nargulg Muk, the leader of the nomadic tribe, who sailed from island to island to hunt for food. It was quickly discovered that Zlog was allergic to meat, causing his father great shame. At the age of seven, he was put into a raft and pushed off to sea to dispose of his weak genetics. Malnourished and dehydrated, the orc arrived at the Arcas coastline. Delirious, he aimlessly trudged forwards in a straight line, confused, until he came across a river he could drink from. With water in his system and plants in his stomach, he kept moving, reinvigorated. This continued for several years, the orc living in the middle of nowhere, far away from any interaction, growing up in the wilderness with a great surplus of instincts grown of what plants he could and could not eat, how to sleep in a tree without falling, and how to avoid the more dangerous predators that lurked in their leafy lairs. Zlog was twenty three years of age now - not that he knew that - and had already grown to eight feet tall. He had smelt a strange smell on winds and had traced it to the smouldering remains of an encampment, with not a soul in sight. He cautiously approached the embers, finding bloodied armour laying in the smoke stained fabric. Laying on eyes on the soot coated armour brought back barely intact memories of his own youth, faded recollections of ironclad warriors, riddled with piercings. With sparkling crimson eyes, The orc tugged the scorched armaments from the ruins to begin a new life.
  3. allornothing

    dogb0ner

    Zlog was born into an orc tribe indigineous to an archipelago located far off the coast of Arcas, a group that had left Arcas long ago to live away from the materialistic struggles of men. He was born to shipmaster Nargulg Muk, the leader of the nomadic tribe, who sailed from island to island to hunt for food. It was quickly discovered that Zlog was allergic to meat, causing his father great shame. At the age of seven, he was put into a raft and pushed off to sea to dispose of his weak genetics. Malnourished and dehydrated, the orc arrived at the Arcas coastline. Delirious, he aimlessly trudged forwards in a straight line, confused, until he came across a river he could drink from. With water in his system and plants in his stomach, he kept moving, reinvigorated. This continued for several years, the orc living in the middle of nowhere, far away from any interaction, growing up in the wilderness with a great surplus of instincts grown of what plants he could and could not eat, how to sleep in a tree without falling, and how to avoid the more dangerous predators that lurked in their leafy lairs. Zlog was twenty three years of age now - not that he knew that - and had already grown to eight feet tall. He had smelt a strange smell on winds and had traced it to the smouldering remains of an encampment, with not a soul in sight. He cautiously approached the embers, finding bloodied armour laying in the smoke stained fabric. Laying on eyes on the soot coated armour brought back barely intact memories of his own youth, faded recollections of ironclad warriors, riddled with piercings. With sparkling crimson eyes, The orc tugged the scorched armaments from the ruins to begin a new life.
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