Of Fallen Faith [WIP/ OPEN REQ 3-4 PLAYERS]

If you're willing to consistently post a paragraph and want more depth than casual, try this on for size. (5-10 sentences per post, on average.)
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Of Fallen Faith [WIP/ OPEN REQ 3-4 PLAYERS]

Post by Lev » Wed Sep 18, 2019 4:59 pm

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The night was thick with wet heat when it all happened, as if the air were swelling with tears. Warriors who had been keeping watch overnight were dragging something large through the huts and out of the village. It was too dark for you to tell what it was, and the women couldn’t light torches fast enough to illuminate the scene. Between the shuffling shadows and the dim glow of early morning seeping through the trees, you could eventually see who it was.

It was Tipp. She was struggling against the grip of a brutish guard. You could tell by his stature and markings that he belonged to the Uchawadi, a group of exceptional fighters trusted with the duty of defending the people against threats and evil magic. His chest and face were aflame with the traditional yellow paints of his station. The guise was believed to trick violent spirits into thinking the Uchawadi were already dead, and the stench of the paints offended the sense of the living. They were the village's greatest shield against demons.

The yellow man had Tipp’s dark matted hair balled in his meaty fist. Her bare feet kicked up dust and dug into the ground for purchase until a trench of broken earth was left in their wake. Other armed warriors surrounded the two, keeping a wide perimeter. They marched cautiously through the village center like children with a snared animal.

The elder-father followed. Like the tail of an angry snake, he yelled and snapped from the end of the alarming procession. He warned the men about the reach of evil spirits, he told the women to shield their children, and he hawked guttural chants that were taught only to the protected few as ancient wards of protection. The layers of his robes hid the truth of his skeletal form.

By the time they reached the edge of the wilderness, the whole tribe was awake and watching the drama unfold. Without the cooking fires started, the comforting aroma of burning wood and fruit leaves was absent. The sun, too, had stretched above the horizon to expose the secrets that had festered in the dark.

You were at the front of the crowd, in clear view when the Uchawadi tossed Tipp across the border. A strand of decorative green and white beads tore from her wrap and skittered frantically across the dirt. Meanwhile, the guards stood fast, shoulder to shoulder, with their spears poised toward her. The village watched with hungry eyes. Hungry for answers. Hungry for drama.

“Away, Shetanisi,” the elder-father commanded. The people gasped. “Take the vessel you have stolen and be with us no more!”

“I am not a demon!” Tipp cried hoarsely.

The people erupted with superstitious whispers while you stared in awe.

The Pinhu tradition was worn most heavily by its women. Histories said that man was no more than a feral beast when Mu’um, the maker, first planted him in the forests and set him adrift across the sands. It was Mwok, the maker-wife, that separated man from the animals. She gave them her eyes so they might look ahead, her ears so they might listen to wisdom, and her voice so they might come together in song.

To honor those debts, every Pinhu woman was called to make her own sacrifice during a traditional ceremony of motherhood. After giving birth, she would pray to Mwok for the prosperity of her child. In return for the blessing, the maker-wife would mark the new mother with a pitch black hand and reclaim one of her gifts as payment. Tipp had been touched by Mwok, and forfeited her voice two years ago.

The people were taught that demons and the strong spirits of evil men could possess the living. It was considered an undeniable sign of possession when a marked woman had suddenly regained a gift that had already been sacrificed to Mwok. You had never seen a possession in your lifetime, but suddenly one was unfolding in front of you. Tipp, a trusted woman of faith and tragedy, whose mouth had been sealed with the black hand of the Mwok, broke her silence in a crying rage.

“My sister is taken and you do nothing!” She screamed. “I call for help.. you let them take her!”

The crowd shuffled nervously, yourself included. Their eyes searched one another, searching for common ground. Some were beginning to wonder if Tipp was a dangerous Shetanisi like they’d been told.

“Go, skin stealer! You will not trick the people with your poison tears. You, with your voice like splitting rocks!”

While the majority hid behind the faith of the elder-father, others still wavered. Some were too curious for their own good, or, at the very least, remained unconvinced. Tipp’s eyes locked on to their humanity, their empathy.

“Please,” she begged between choked sobs. Spit and tears flew from her lips. “Help me. My sister.. you know my sister. She could still be-“

The elder-father's beady eyes looked to the doubters and slammed his foot to the ground, casting his hand outward with bony fingers spread wide.

"The abomination is made bare, and we will not tolerate its evil any longer. Those who do not cast away this monster are, too, a disease that will rot and kill us all.”

The warriors pressed their spears toward Tipp, inching her further away. The elder-father’s stare pierced the crowd, waiting.

“All poison will be purged,” he hissed.

Your Choice
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

-Remain with the Tribe-
This option will require a convincing reason and a big commitment to the outcome of the story, as it would require me to split the story between two separate locations.


-Be Purged, and Follow Tipp Into Banishment-
Follow your gut, embrace your doubts, and follow the accused Shetanisi into a world with countless dangers and no guarantees.. maybe even learn the truth about the mystery?
Last edited by Lev on Thu Sep 19, 2019 3:35 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Re: Of Fallen Faith [WIP/ OPEN REQ 3-4 PLAYERS]

Post by illirica » Wed Sep 18, 2019 7:22 pm

I know it's still a WIP, but this looks really interesting.
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Re: Of Fallen Faith [WIP/ OPEN REQ 3-4 PLAYERS]

Post by Annasiel » Wed Sep 18, 2019 9:54 pm

I look in the water and fear what I see
I know it's no stranger but I know it's not me
My life is a lie that was uttered in jest
If I can't change at all, let me rest

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Re: Of Fallen Faith [WIP/ OPEN REQ 3-4 PLAYERS]

Post by Lev » Thu Sep 19, 2019 3:36 am

illirica wrote:
Wed Sep 18, 2019 7:22 pm
I know it's still a WIP, but this looks really interesting.
Thank you! I hope you remain interested while I continue to work on the piece!

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