The Bone's rattle till they rattle no more.

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by The Fox and The Spider, Nov 15, 2012.

  1. BeFunky_Nel_by_EntexImmer.jpg

    The rolling dunes of sand served as a testament that the universe is hostile. The dried bones which littered the vast landscape of nothingness; adorned a harrowing tale of life and it's constant struggles. Most who dare traverse this horrid environment alone would find themselves succumbing to mirages, dehydration and the countless venomous predators which stalked these sands. Finding relief only in the few settlements stretched throughout this sandbox. It was a realm where only the strongest survived. The notion of evolution and the prosperity of those species best outfitted to endure was a truth none dare refute. Here only a few deities were uttered. The God's of the frozen north and the flowery south had no place in such a trying realm.

    While most of the Providences have been explored and drawn under the banner of the empire. This harsh wasteland had escaped such oppressive hands. Permitting a beautiful free lifestyle void of the cultures of the other realms. It was this beauty which survived and endured the scorching heat and countless sand storms dancing throughout the land. But despite these harsh and unbearable condition life could be found. From the smallest of reptiles whom tread the surface, to the giant worms which slept under the warm sands, to the culturally rich locals. There were two type of people in this desert, those which hid behind stone walls and enjoyed a cosmopolitan existence. And those nomadic tribes which wandered the sands void of a home to call their own.

    These tribes have often served as tourist attractions and inspired a great many novels. Even the other nationals found themselves admiring the barbaric folks willingness to survive. In the eyes of the nomad, these people surrendered their heritage and powers for the delusion of security behind stone walls. The magic of old, which most had forgotten still thrived within their culture. And birthed quite the fearsome war machine. While most ignored the sands and their tales, these tribals have not forgotten their voice. And till this day find themselves lost to the deserts call.

    To the north just outside of the desert city of Eleanor such a tribe could be found. Seeking temporary shelter within the countless caves embedded alongside the mountain side. Here they trained, tended to livestock and engaged in rituals long forgotten by most outsiders. Life was difficult for them, but as a result life was something they cherished. It was a beauty they took not for granted. A gift they've learned to savor each seconds of.

    Though the group often traveled as one, every so often they would send out one of their war maidens to traverse the burning sands. Hoping to recon the area or find supplies if not good game locations. Miles from her home, Iris Boneword would boldly traverse the fearsome clime. Her toned frame adorned in various furs. Which left her abdomen exposed and only served to loosely guise her beautiful long legs. On her head could be found a skull, the skull of the first animal she killed. That being some sort of desert troll species. Around her neck rested a necklace composed of the bones and teeth of her prey. Ranging from beast to even a few subhuman species.

    With resolve erupting in her eyes she confidently strolled through the wasteland. Her stride being that of confidence earned and authority demanded. For hours she would walk without rest. Fending off against a few of the local giant scorpions along the way. Only knowing rest when she came across an oasis just a few miles from the vast city of stone. The arches of her lips would bend, plastering a grin of joy on her picturesque face. Abruptly she would halt as she peered down into the pool of water. Her fingers tracing the marking on her face as she leaned forward. Tongue shortly afterwards running along the outlines of her lips to moisten them as she fell to her knees. Cupping her hands as she brought some water to those deprived lips of hers. Closing her eyes as she felt life being brought back into her body.

    Here she would rest, planting her rear on the sand as she dipped her sore feet in the soothing water. With eyes filled with disgust she would find her gaze resting on the city. sighing heavily before raising her head skyward. Permitting her cerulean hair to blow in the gentle desert breeze. Moments like these were the one's she cherished the most.