RE: SeaWyrm's Talon Exercises
11-26-2012, 10:58 PM
No one came near the corridor if they could help it.
They took other avenues, or made excuses, or simply turned their back on it and abandoned their business. It was too evil, too dangerous. The stench of death hung too thickly around it.
It was called the Alley of the Rooks, named for the sinister representations of those birds carved into every cobblestone and emblazoned across every door frame - stylized, either in profile or in flight, and inked, when relevant, always in the same corpuscular purple.
The thing about it was, it was never in the same place twice. Any corridor or hall, backstreet or avenue, path or crawlspace could turn out to be the Alley of the Rooks. Usually, it turned up when and where it was least convenient. Sometimes, a brave soul with more impatience than common sense would use it as a shortcut - and sometimes, they would walk away unscathed.
Sometimes.
The day I set foot in the Alley was a cold winter's day when I was fifteen years old. I was walking home with a bundle of candles for the celebration. The sky was clear and the sun had not yet set, and though I was alone in an empty and quiet part of the city, I felt jollied by my anticipation of the upcoming festival and the friendly way the setting sun lit everything with a rosy glow. Still, I wasn't foolish enough to step into the Alley willingly - but when I tripped, and dropped my bundle, and saw an insignia of a rook in flight on the corner of the wall beside me as I bent to retrieve it, I didn't hesitate long before bending and picking it up.
I'd not intended to set foot in that alley, but apparently, bending into it was enough. As I straightened, clutching the candles to my chest, I saw rook-shapes everywhere. I took a step backwards and collided with a brick wall.
I shuddered. The other side of the Alley looked close - no more than ten feet away - but I knew from stories that this was deceptive. I was in terrible trouble, and I had a long way to go before I made it through - if I did make it through. And if you think that the fact that I am standing here before you, telling you this story, means I came through unscathed, then I'm afraid you don't understand the nature of the Alley of the Rooks at all.
---15 Mins---
They took other avenues, or made excuses, or simply turned their back on it and abandoned their business. It was too evil, too dangerous. The stench of death hung too thickly around it.
It was called the Alley of the Rooks, named for the sinister representations of those birds carved into every cobblestone and emblazoned across every door frame - stylized, either in profile or in flight, and inked, when relevant, always in the same corpuscular purple.
The thing about it was, it was never in the same place twice. Any corridor or hall, backstreet or avenue, path or crawlspace could turn out to be the Alley of the Rooks. Usually, it turned up when and where it was least convenient. Sometimes, a brave soul with more impatience than common sense would use it as a shortcut - and sometimes, they would walk away unscathed.
Sometimes.
The day I set foot in the Alley was a cold winter's day when I was fifteen years old. I was walking home with a bundle of candles for the celebration. The sky was clear and the sun had not yet set, and though I was alone in an empty and quiet part of the city, I felt jollied by my anticipation of the upcoming festival and the friendly way the setting sun lit everything with a rosy glow. Still, I wasn't foolish enough to step into the Alley willingly - but when I tripped, and dropped my bundle, and saw an insignia of a rook in flight on the corner of the wall beside me as I bent to retrieve it, I didn't hesitate long before bending and picking it up.
I'd not intended to set foot in that alley, but apparently, bending into it was enough. As I straightened, clutching the candles to my chest, I saw rook-shapes everywhere. I took a step backwards and collided with a brick wall.
I shuddered. The other side of the Alley looked close - no more than ten feet away - but I knew from stories that this was deceptive. I was in terrible trouble, and I had a long way to go before I made it through - if I did make it through. And if you think that the fact that I am standing here before you, telling you this story, means I came through unscathed, then I'm afraid you don't understand the nature of the Alley of the Rooks at all.
---15 Mins---