Om
not very good
by , 12-19-2007 at 02:17 AM (1248 Views)
Seven days and nights now we've been fleeing through this jungle, the beast's shrill cries growing louder and closer at night. We are all on edge; and some have fled, and some are dead, and there are six of us let together. The other men are bone tired and nearing psychotic or nervous breakdowns. The conditions make it as oppressive as if in a tunnel mine. There is no place to go; they had taken their best guess as direction and traveled straight, but found no end to the jungle; mountains and hills, streams in valleys and curious vegetation. The sun beat upon the jungle during the day while it grew cold and wet under the moon and stars at night. It would have been gorgeous had we not been in a state of terror and at danger to our lives.
We were on a mission to uncover a treasured artifact, when we awoke by mistake an ancient beast, tied to the artifact by magic or inscription. It was a fearsome goblin-hound, which we saw tear apart a man before our eyes back at the temple where we took the artifact. We have run since, and we have caught glimpses of it across a ravine, at night or in the morning.
We came to the top of a hill. There is a river that goes down to our right and a lake in front of us. To the left is a wide valley that stretches for several miles. Beyond it are more mountains.
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