The Good Hunter

If you were very quiet and very still, maybe you could hear the Walls breathe... Or the mutterings of a Madman trying to keep them alive desperately, along with everything trapped inside it.

Maybe he was scared- like a child grieving a not quite dead dog with a broken leg, even though they knew it was better to put down a suffering beast. But the walls breathed on, every shifting hallway, a new gauntlet to go through. How did time move here? Were your days, hours or weeks? Did it matter? Did the suffering endured change depending on the length of time in which it was experienced?

Theodor himself would only watch. maybe more would come. Perhaps more would change fate. Maybe just one more soul... One more mind... and if not that one then the next. For what else was there to do? Simply accept the inevitable? Oh no, no no no. Mourning Mortality was a mortifyingly mortal sin. There was no end goal but the same straight path as always, stretching far forward unto the horizon because what else was there...? Who would mourn a forgotten god? Certainly not Theodor. Not if there was no one left to mourn.

The definition of insanity: to do something over and over again with the feeble hope it will achieve different results.

"If it is of any use- I have been here a rather long time and I'm only human. I would make the argument I am still sane, and I do have a method to the madness deduced. For a place so all devouring, I don't think it actually... Does anything NEW."

The Hunter began to pace a moment, thinking to thrmselves for the most part aloud.

"Hm. What does everything else here have this doesn't?"

He stared at the lifeless eyes in annoyance.

"Pointless!" He repeated with a hiss, tail swinging back and forth in annoyance.

Then, he stopped, mouth agape as he thought of something that could be the answer. She looked up at The Hunter, tilting her head as she spoke.

He took off his bag and rummaged through it, sticking her tongue out as she concentrated. Finally, he gasped, eagerly standing up and running over to The Hunter to place a tiny black soul gem into their hand.

The Hunter narrowed their eyes.

"I HATE those fucking soul tomatos."

They shook their head.

If you were very quiet and very still, maybe you could hear the Walls breathe... Or the mutterings of a Madman trying to keep them alive desperately, along with everything trapped inside it.

Maybe he was scared- like a child grieving a not quite dead dog with a broken leg, even though they knew it was better to put down a suffering beast. But the walls breathed on, every shifting hallway, a new gauntlet to go through. How did time move here? Were your days, hours or weeks? Did it matter? Did the suffering endured change depending on the length of time in which it was experienced?

Theodor himself would only watch. maybe more would come. Perhaps more would change fate. Maybe just one more soul... One more mind... and if not that one then the next. For what else was there to do? Simply accept the inevitable? Oh no, no no no. Mourning Mortality was a mortifyingly mortal sin. There was no end goal but the same straight path as always, stretching far forward unto the horizon because what else was there...? Who would mourn a forgotten god? Certainly not Theodor. Not if there was no one left to mourn.

The definition of insanity: to do something over and over again with the feeble hope it will achieve different results.

"If it is of any use- I have been here a rather long time and I'm only human. I would make the argument I am still sane, and I do have a method to the madness deduced. For a place so all devouring, I don't think it actually... Does anything NEW."

The Hunter began to pace a moment, thinking to thrmselves for the most part aloud.

"Hm. What does everything else here have this doesn't?"

He stared at the lifeless eyes in annoyance.

"Pointless!" He repeated with a hiss, tail swinging back and forth in annoyance.

Then, he stopped, mouth agape as he thought of something that could be the answer. She looked up at The Hunter, tilting her head as she spoke.

If you were very quiet and very still, maybe you could hear the Walls breathe... Or the mutterings of a Madman trying to keep them alive desperately, along with everything trapped inside it.

Maybe he was scared- like a child grieving a not quite dead dog with a broken leg, even though they knew it was better to put down a suffering beast. But the walls breathed on, every shifting hallway, a new gauntlet to go through. How did time move here? Were your days, hours or weeks? Did it matter? Did the suffering endured change depending on the length of time in which it was experienced?

Theodor himself would only watch. maybe more would come. Perhaps more would change fate. Maybe just one more soul... One more mind... and if not that one then the next. For what else was there to do? Simply accept the inevitable? Oh no, no no no. Mourning Mortality was a mortifyingly mortal sin. There was no end goal but the same straight path as always, stretching far forward unto the horizon because what else was there...? Who would mourn a forgotten god? Certainly not Theodor. Not if there was no one left to mourn.

The definition of insanity: to do something over and over again with the feeble hope it will achieve different results.

"If it is of any use- I have been here a rather long time and I'm only human. I would make the argument I am still sane, and I do have a method to the madness deduced. For a place so all devouring, I don't think it actually... Does anything NEW."

The Hunter began to pace a moment, thinking to thrmselves for the most part aloud.

"Hm. What does everything else here have this doesn't?"

He stared at the lifeless eyes in annoyance.

If you were very quiet and very still, maybe you could hear the Walls breathe... Or the mutterings of a Madman trying to keep them alive desperately, along with everything trapped inside it.

Maybe he was scared- like a child grieving a not quite dead dog with a broken leg, even though they knew it was better to put down a suffering beast. But the walls breathed on, every shifting hallway, a new gauntlet to go through. How did time move here? Were your days, hours or weeks? Did it matter? Did the suffering endured change depending on the length of time in which it was experienced?

Theodor himself would only watch. maybe more would come. Perhaps more would change fate. Maybe just one more soul... One more mind... and if not that one then the next. For what else was there to do? Simply accept the inevitable? Oh no, no no no. Mourning Mortality was a mortifyingly mortal sin. There was no end goal but the same straight path as always, stretching far forward unto the horizon because what else was there...? Who would mourn a forgotten god? Certainly not Theodor. Not if there was no one left to mourn.

The definition of insanity: to do something over and over again with the feeble hope it will achieve different results.

"If it is of any use- I have been here a rather long time and I'm only human. I would make the argument I am still sane, and I do have a method to the madness deduced. For a place so all devouring, I don't think it actually... Does anything NEW."

The Hunter began to pace a moment, thinking to thrmselves for the most part aloud.

If you were very quiet and very still, maybe you could hear the Walls breathe... Or the mutterings of a Madman trying to keep them alive desperately, along with everything trapped inside it.

Maybe he was scared- like a child grieving a not quite dead dog with a broken leg, even though they knew it was better to put down a suffering beast. But the walls breathed on, every shifting hallway, a new gauntlet to go through. How did time move here? Were your days, hours or weeks? Did it matter? Did the suffering endured change depending on the length of time in which it was experienced?

Theodor himself would only watch. maybe more would come. Perhaps more would change fate. Maybe just one more soul... One more mind... and if not that one then the next. For what else was there to do? Simply accept the inevitable? Oh no, no no no. Mourning Mortality was a mortifyingly mortal sin. There was no end goal but the same straight path as always, stretching far forward unto the horizon because what else was there...? Who would mourn a forgotten god? Certainly not Theodor. Not if there was no one left to mourn.

The definition of insanity: to do something over and over again with the feeble hope it will achieve different results.

"If it is of any use- I have been here a rather long time and I'm only human. I would make the argument I am still sane, and I do have a method to the madness deduced. For a place so all devouring, I don't think it actually... Does anything NEW."

The Hunter began to pace a moment, thinking to thrmselves for the most part aloud.

If you were very quiet and very still, maybe you could hear the Walls breathe... Or the mutterings of a Madman trying to keep them alive desperately, along with everything trapped inside it.

Maybe he was scared- like a child grieving a not quite dead dog with a broken leg, even though they knew it was better to put down a suffering beast. But the walls breathed on, every shifting hallway, a new gauntlet to go through. How did time move here? Were your days, hours or weeks? Did it matter? Did the suffering endured change depending on the length of time in which it was experienced?

Theodor himself would only watch. maybe more would come. Perhaps more would change fate. Maybe just one more soul... One more mind... and if not that one then the next. For what else was there to do? Simply accept the inevitable? Oh no, no no no. Mourning Mortality was a mortifyingly mortal sin. There was no end goal but the same straight path as always, stretching far forward unto the horizon because what else was there...? Who would mourn a forgotten god? Certainly not Theodor. Not if there was no one left to mourn.

The definition of insanity: to do something over and over again with the feeble hope it will achieve different results.

"If it is of any use- I have been here a rather long time and I'm only human. I would make the argument I am still sane, and I do have a method to the madness deduced. For a place so all devouring, I don't think it actually... Does anything NEW."

The Hunter began to pace a moment, thinking to thrmselves for the most part aloud.

If you were very quiet and very still, maybe you could hear the Walls breathe... Or the mutterings of a Madman trying to keep them alive desperately, along with everything trapped inside it.

Maybe he was scared- like a child grieving a not quite dead dog with a broken leg, even though they knew it was better to put down a suffering beast. But the walls breathed on, every shifting hallway, a new gauntlet to go through. How did time move here? Were your days, hours or weeks? Did it matter? Did the suffering endured change depending on the length of time in which it was experienced?

Theodor himself would only watch. maybe more would come. Perhaps more would change fate. Maybe just one more soul... One more mind... and if not that one then the next. For what else was there to do? Simply accept the inevitable? Oh no, no no no. Mourning Mortality was a mortifyingly mortal sin. There was no end goal but the same straight path as always, stretching far forward unto the horizon because what else was there...? Who would mourn a forgotten god? Certainly not Theodor. Not if there was no one left to mourn.

The definition of insanity: to do something over and over again with the feeble hope it will achieve different results.

But there's the distinct sound of movement ahead. People talking. The fort might have residents in this hell after all. Bandits most likely. Something simple to start... Or perhaps end- with. One of the figures chatting looks a little different, clad all in leather and a bandana over their mouth. Maybe the Abyss used the appearances of real people to create it's pawns, this just being a starker looking stalker among the others.

If you turn around - the room you spent your last day in is gone. Disappeared. The warm hearth and tables of food traded for bricks and stone from the second you looked away. The only source of comfort gone... Traded for the endless halls of torment ahead.

You are alone among yourselves.

This time something new spawned- the bones around them digging their way out, some larger, and some smaller, and even a femur bigger than Rampage was. It almost looked like they were crawling out of the walls of the cave as they reformed into something large and angry and punishing.

A dragon, made of bones and teeth that didn’t necessarily fit its skeleton. It loomed over them and snarled, bits of dirt falling out of his mouth that had been carried with the bone.

The Hunter raised their hands non-threateningly.

"Uh... Oops?"

You did take a knock to the head when you fell, but.. you seem pretty lucid.

Drem, vomindok gein!

(Despite his better judgement, he puts away his sword and approaches.)

(He reaches out, slowly and carefully, giving the dragon time to pull away if he wishes to.)

(He does his best to think. All forms have souls, and all souls have ambitions, which are born of reasonable desires. What could he offer the Abyss in a situation like this?)

They grit their teeth in pain and fall to the ground. Their body spasms as their bones break to reform, and as their organs begrudgingly rearrange into this new, changed body. Finally, they get up, transformed into an Infernium.

Letting out a loud, otherwordly roar out of their mouth they shoot a molten beam at the skeletal dragon.

But there's the distinct sound of movement ahead. People talking. The fort might have residents in this hell after all. Bandits most likely. Something simple to start... Or perhaps end- with. One of the figures chatting looks a little different, clad all in leather and a bandana over their mouth. Maybe the Abyss used the appearances of real people to create it's pawns, this just being a starker looking stalker among the others.

If you turn around - the room you spent your last day in is gone. Disappeared. The warm hearth and tables of food traded for bricks and stone from the second you looked away. The only source of comfort gone... Traded for the endless halls of torment ahead.

You are alone among yourselves.

This time something new spawned- the bones around them digging their way out, some larger, and some smaller, and even a femur bigger than Rampage was. It almost looked like they were crawling out of the walls of the cave as they reformed into something large and angry and punishing.

A dragon, made of bones and teeth that didn’t necessarily fit its skeleton. It loomed over them and snarled, bits of dirt falling out of his mouth that had been carried with the bone.

The Hunter raised their hands non-threateningly.

"Uh... Oops?"

You did take a knock to the head when you fell, but.. you seem pretty lucid.

Drem, vomindok gein!

(Despite his better judgement, he puts away his sword and approaches.)

(He reaches out, slowly and carefully, giving the dragon time to pull away if he wishes to.)

(He does his best to think. All forms have souls, and all souls have ambitions, which are born of reasonable desires. What could he offer the Abyss in a situation like this?)

But there's the distinct sound of movement ahead. People talking. The fort might have residents in this hell after all. Bandits most likely. Something simple to start... Or perhaps end- with. One of the figures chatting looks a little different, clad all in leather and a bandana over their mouth. Maybe the Abyss used the appearances of real people to create it's pawns, this just being a starker looking stalker among the others.

If you turn around - the room you spent your last day in is gone. Disappeared. The warm hearth and tables of food traded for bricks and stone from the second you looked away. The only source of comfort gone... Traded for the endless halls of torment ahead.

You are alone among yourselves.

This time something new spawned- the bones around them digging their way out, some larger, and some smaller, and even a femur bigger than Rampage was. It almost looked like they were crawling out of the walls of the cave as they reformed into something large and angry and punishing.

A dragon, made of bones and teeth that didn’t necessarily fit its skeleton. It loomed over them and snarled, bits of dirt falling out of his mouth that had been carried with the bone.

The Hunter raised their hands non-threateningly.

"Uh... Oops?"

You did take a knock to the head when you fell, but.. you seem pretty lucid.

Drem, vomindok gein!

(Despite his better judgement, he puts away his sword and approaches.)

(He reaches out, slowly and carefully, giving the dragon time to pull away if he wishes to.)

(He does his best to think. All forms have souls, and all souls have ambitions, which are born of reasonable desires. What could he offer the Abyss in a situation like this?)

But there's the distinct sound of movement ahead. People talking. The fort might have residents in this hell after all. Bandits most likely. Something simple to start... Or perhaps end- with. One of the figures chatting looks a little different, clad all in leather and a bandana over their mouth. Maybe the Abyss used the appearances of real people to create it's pawns, this just being a starker looking stalker among the others.

If you turn around - the room you spent your last day in is gone. Disappeared. The warm hearth and tables of food traded for bricks and stone from the second you looked away. The only source of comfort gone... Traded for the endless halls of torment ahead.

You are alone among yourselves.

This time something new spawned- the bones around them digging their way out, some larger, and some smaller, and even a femur bigger than Rampage was. It almost looked like they were crawling out of the walls of the cave as they reformed into something large and angry and punishing.

A dragon, made of bones and teeth that didn’t necessarily fit its skeleton. It loomed over them and snarled, bits of dirt falling out of his mouth that had been carried with the bone.

The Hunter raised their hands non-threateningly.

"Uh... Oops?"

You did take a knock to the head when you fell, but.. you seem pretty lucid.

Drem, vomindok gein!

(Despite his better judgement, he puts away his sword and approaches.)

(He reaches out, slowly and carefully, giving the dragon time to pull away if he wishes to.)

(He does his best to think. All forms have souls, and all souls have ambitions, which are born of reasonable desires. What could he offer the Abyss in a situation like this?)

But there's the distinct sound of movement ahead. People talking. The fort might have residents in this hell after all. Bandits most likely. Something simple to start... Or perhaps end- with. One of the figures chatting looks a little different, clad all in leather and a bandana over their mouth. Maybe the Abyss used the appearances of real people to create it's pawns, this just being a starker looking stalker among the others.

If you turn around - the room you spent your last day in is gone. Disappeared. The warm hearth and tables of food traded for bricks and stone from the second you looked away. The only source of comfort gone... Traded for the endless halls of torment ahead.

You are alone among yourselves.

This time something new spawned- the bones around them digging their way out, some larger, and some smaller, and even a femur bigger than Rampage was. It almost looked like they were crawling out of the walls of the cave as they reformed into something large and angry and punishing.

A dragon, made of bones and teeth that didn’t necessarily fit its skeleton. It loomed over them and snarled, bits of dirt falling out of his mouth that had been carried with the bone.

The Hunter raised their hands non-threateningly.

"Uh... Oops?"

You did take a knock to the head when you fell, but.. you seem pretty lucid.

Drem, vomindok gein!

(Despite his better judgement, he puts away his sword and approaches.)

(He reaches out, slowly and carefully, giving the dragon time to pull away if he wishes to.)

But there's the distinct sound of movement ahead. People talking. The fort might have residents in this hell after all. Bandits most likely. Something simple to start... Or perhaps end- with. One of the figures chatting looks a little different, clad all in leather and a bandana over their mouth. Maybe the Abyss used the appearances of real people to create it's pawns, this just being a starker looking stalker among the others.

If you turn around - the room you spent your last day in is gone. Disappeared. The warm hearth and tables of food traded for bricks and stone from the second you looked away. The only source of comfort gone... Traded for the endless halls of torment ahead.

You are alone among yourselves.

This time something new spawned- the bones around them digging their way out, some larger, and some smaller, and even a femur bigger than Rampage was. It almost looked like they were crawling out of the walls of the cave as they reformed into something large and angry and punishing.

A dragon, made of bones and teeth that didn’t necessarily fit its skeleton. It loomed over them and snarled, bits of dirt falling out of his mouth that had been carried with the bone.

The Hunter raised their hands non-threateningly.

"Uh... Oops?"

You did take a knock to the head when you fell, but.. you seem pretty lucid.

Drem, vomindok gein!

(Despite his better judgement, he puts away his sword and approaches.)

(He reaches out, slowly and carefully, giving the dragon time to pull away if he wishes to.)

But there's the distinct sound of movement ahead. People talking. The fort might have residents in this hell after all. Bandits most likely. Something simple to start... Or perhaps end- with. One of the figures chatting looks a little different, clad all in leather and a bandana over their mouth. Maybe the Abyss used the appearances of real people to create it's pawns, this just being a starker looking stalker among the others.

If you turn around - the room you spent your last day in is gone. Disappeared. The warm hearth and tables of food traded for bricks and stone from the second you looked away. The only source of comfort gone... Traded for the endless halls of torment ahead.

You are alone among yourselves.

This time something new spawned- the bones around them digging their way out, some larger, and some smaller, and even a femur bigger than Rampage was. It almost looked like they were crawling out of the walls of the cave as they reformed into something large and angry and punishing.

A dragon, made of bones and teeth that didn’t necessarily fit its skeleton. It loomed over them and snarled, bits of dirt falling out of his mouth that had been carried with the bone.

The Hunter raised their hands non-threateningly.

"Uh... Oops?"

You did take a knock to the head when you fell, but.. you seem pretty lucid.

Drem, vomindok gein!

(Despite his better judgement, he puts away his sword and approaches.)

But there's the distinct sound of movement ahead. People talking. The fort might have residents in this hell after all. Bandits most likely. Something simple to start... Or perhaps end- with. One of the figures chatting looks a little different, clad all in leather and a bandana over their mouth. Maybe the Abyss used the appearances of real people to create it's pawns, this just being a starker looking stalker among the others.

If you turn around - the room you spent your last day in is gone. Disappeared. The warm hearth and tables of food traded for bricks and stone from the second you looked away. The only source of comfort gone... Traded for the endless halls of torment ahead.

You are alone among yourselves.

This time something new spawned- the bones around them digging their way out, some larger, and some smaller, and even a femur bigger than Rampage was. It almost looked like they were crawling out of the walls of the cave as they reformed into something large and angry and punishing.

A dragon, made of bones and teeth that didn’t necessarily fit its skeleton. It loomed over them and snarled, bits of dirt falling out of his mouth that had been carried with the bone.

The Hunter raised their hands non-threateningly.

"Uh... Oops?"

You did take a knock to the head when you fell, but.. you seem pretty lucid.

"Can't throw those. Glass explodes from the heat. Makes a bomb. It's how I attacked Hircine."

They took a flask anyway though to drink from- pulling their mask down and covering the lower half of their face with a hand in order to keep it secret while they drink.

But there's the distinct sound of movement ahead. People talking. The fort might have residents in this hell after all. Bandits most likely. Something simple to start... Or perhaps end- with. One of the figures chatting looks a little different, clad all in leather and a bandana over their mouth. Maybe the Abyss used the appearances of real people to create it's pawns, this just being a starker looking stalker among the others.

If you turn around - the room you spent your last day in is gone. Disappeared. The warm hearth and tables of food traded for bricks and stone from the second you looked away. The only source of comfort gone... Traded for the endless halls of torment ahead.

You are alone among yourselves.

This time something new spawned- the bones around them digging their way out, some larger, and some smaller, and even a femur bigger than Rampage was. It almost looked like they were crawling out of the walls of the cave as they reformed into something large and angry and punishing.

A dragon, made of bones and teeth that didn’t necessarily fit its skeleton. It loomed over them and snarled, bits of dirt falling out of his mouth that had been carried with the bone.

The Hunter raised their hands non-threateningly.

"Uh... Oops?"

You did take a knock to the head when you fell, but.. you seem pretty lucid.

"Can't throw those. Glass explodes from the heat. Makes a bomb. It's how I attacked Hircine."

They took a flask anyway though to drink from- pulling their mask down and covering the lower half of their face with a hand in order to keep it secret while they drink.

But there's the distinct sound of movement ahead. People talking. The fort might have residents in this hell after all. Bandits most likely. Something simple to start... Or perhaps end- with. One of the figures chatting looks a little different, clad all in leather and a bandana over their mouth. Maybe the Abyss used the appearances of real people to create it's pawns, this just being a starker looking stalker among the others.

If you turn around - the room you spent your last day in is gone. Disappeared. The warm hearth and tables of food traded for bricks and stone from the second you looked away. The only source of comfort gone... Traded for the endless halls of torment ahead.

You are alone among yourselves.

This time something new spawned- the bones around them digging their way out, some larger, and some smaller, and even a femur bigger than Rampage was. It almost looked like they were crawling out of the walls of the cave as they reformed into something large and angry and punishing.

A dragon, made of bones and teeth that didn’t necessarily fit its skeleton. It loomed over them and snarled, bits of dirt falling out of his mouth that had been carried with the bone.

The Hunter raised their hands non-threateningly.

"Uh... Oops?"

You did take a knock to the head when you fell, but.. you seem pretty lucid.

Drem, vomindok gein!

(Despite his better judgement, he puts away his sword and approaches.)