5 Word Challenge #31

October Knight

Original poster
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
Fantasy, Horror and Sci-fi. I'll try basically anything though. I also love strange and unusual RP genre concepts. Different is good!
5 Word Challenge
Brought to you by: October Knight

[bg=#006633]This challenge is to help strengthen your vocabulary. You'll learn new words and how to use them in roleplay posts, stories, poems, etc!

1. Aim for a minimum of 1-3 paragraphs. If you'd like to write more than that, then go for it!
2. Make sure you use each word in your post. Be as creative as you'd like.
3. Style the writing like you would for a story. It can be describing a setting, or written from the perspective of a character. Whatever you feel would work the best.
4. Have fun with this, of course!

The Words:

  • Discrepant (adj.) - Opposite.
  • Indelible (adj.) - That can not be blotted out, effaced, destroyed, or removed.
  • Pastoral (adj.) - Having the spirit or sentiment of rural life.
  • Quietus (n.) - A silencing, suppressing, or ending.
  • Sarcophagus (n.) - A stone coffin or a chest-like tomb.

The city was burning. Tongues of flame worked danced around the one pastoral village whose houses were crumbling to the ground with the influence of the fire. Quaint wooden homes were too easy a target for the engulfing blaze and it was swallowing them whole with hardly a pause before moving on to another. Garden patches lit and filled the air with the heady scents of herbs being burnt, scorching the dirt beneath them.

People were fleeing the village, abandoning the remnants of their lives with blind terror, none the wiser as to what had caused the fire. They met their answer soon enough as they attempted their escape. Arrows flew through the air with lethal accuracy, embedding several inches into the backs of the townsfolk, the archers appearing from the acrid smoke like demons with their hands loosely gripping their bows. Still more people made a bid for escape from the fire only to stop in horror at people they once knew laying face down in mud made from blood mingling with the dirt. They hardly had time to register fear before they too were struck down.

A lone figure emerged at last from the smoke, his eyes scanning the scores of bodies surrounding him and the building smoldering to the ground. Amongst the murder and the destruction, he was the leader and the harbinger. He spread his arms wide as he surveyed the town, a feral smile gracing his features. Discrepant from his cold, merciless archers he was gleeful. The smell of burning and blood was enough to make him feel high with thrill. In his eyes he saw not a massacre but a conversion. He was their prophet and what he had given them was quietus from their heresy.

The man waved his hand to the archers, satisfied with the annihilation. Following tacit orders, they fanned out to the burnt shells of what were once homes. Sweeping aside his deep red robes, the leader began to pick through the home nearest to him as well. The elimination of obstacles was over and now they were searching. Keen eyes took in everything as nimble hands dug through the remains of the buildings.

After nearly an hour, the search was over. They had located their prize amongst the ashes of one of the houses and taken it greedily, spitting on its ruin. The archers who found it presented it proudly to their leader, bearing it between them to displace the weight. He whirled to face them and their favor was assured with his indulgent smile.

The object appeared to be a sarcophagus made seamlessly of only two pale stones. The bottom had not a single crack despite being roughly four feet in length and the lid fit on it perfectly. They set their burden down at the feet of their master and he kneeled, hardly aware that he was holding his breath. The lid was inscribed with a clearly indelible script, still perfect and unmarred despite the obvious age of the sarcophagus, and the letters gleamed bright, looking all the world as though they had been freshly painted with blood. He ran his fingers over the lettering, marveling that it was dry despite it appearances, and focused instead on reading the archaic language.

"Inside the confines of this stone rests the remains of their pretender to the divinity, their so-called goddess. Our destiny is half-complete, men."