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Made in us
Slaanesh Havoc with Blastmaster





The rain slid off his cloak and garments, the slight tingle of wetness crawled across his face. He was used to water, but not like this. It was gentle and the sound almost relaxed him, the constant sound of drizzle echoing around him. It had been a month since he'd been on the road, he being banished from Ci Za. Since then he'd been traveling to the closest city, where he could start over.

His feet sloshed on the wet gravel road, making small imprints with sand and dirt getting stuck on the bottom his boots. He was hungry and more so tired. But he could not rest, not now... not yet. Shelter was his first priority, next was food. His blood wasn't easily corrupted by sickness, but at this rate it was only a matter of time before an infection took his body.

He frowned as he walked. Why had they thrown him out? He knew the reason, he still saw the mans eyes bursting with his bodily fluid, the blood spurting out of his pores to the crowd that was watching the catastrophe in motion. It was the dead man's fault he was in this mess, but the world around him did not see it that way.

Yas'o moved with a quickened pace, the dreams were coming back, the visions, the chaos, and the pain coursed their way through his skull. Liquid flowing more and more through streams in his mind, he saw the ocean's currents in real time around him, he saw how air manipulated the water, how water and storms eroded the earth, how fire could blacken the sky. He frowned more than he was before, the misery of self pity playing with his mind.

The visions were coming in faster and more erratic than before. The water flowing around him magnified by the gentle rain droplets tapping the his hood. It was thunder to him, his senses heightened ten fold, the sloshing of his boots became earthquakes in the puddles below, the gentle wind becoming a hurricane that attacked his face. He was depressed, but survival was the only thing that drove him to continue.

His prayers were finally answered when he found himself staring at an old shack on the side of the road. Its thatched roof was in shambles,the wood work rotted, and the evidence of decades of abuse from the elements showed in its entirety. On the outside were words written in a language Yas'o couldn't understand. But shelter was shelter.

He moved inside through where the door was suppose to be, the rotten planks creaking as he placed his boots on them. It echoed in his mind, the sounds of rodents and insects crawling under the floor made him cringe as he made his way to a corner of the room. It reminded him of the day a hurricane descended on Ci Za, he winced. He would not think of that day.

He lowered himself to the floor, the wood creaked and yearned to snap as he placed his body down. He was cold, the water having soaked his blue vest and cloak, he could feel that water had crept into his boots and soaked his undergarments. Yas'o was an intelligent man but he was a man born in a different world. A world where he needn't worry about food or how to make a fire. He saw the irony in his needs, he was the opposite of fire, yet he craved it more than anything at the moment.

Yas'o closed his eyes drifting off into the madness that was his subconscious, the howls of souls tearing at his mind.

Light, bright light. Penetrating his eyelids reaching for the back of his skull. He opened his eyes to find it was sunny. Birds were singing, crickets and other insects came to life through the woods outside. The storm was gone and with it did the pain and sensitivity leave as well. Yas'o was unemotional. The only thing he felt was his stomach. It growled at him begging him for food. He had money, Ci Zi money, but what good was that to him now? all he could do with it was throw it in a fountain and make a wish.

He moved to get up, putting pressure on one of the planks with his left foot. The board began to creak and it seemed to almost cry. The wood gave out pulling his leg downward into the floor. His leg dangled below him, suspended in air. He wasn't surprised by the wood giving out, only surprised that there wasn't dirt beneath him. A basement, maybe some food or supplies stowed away.

He scanned the room and before him was a trap door in plain sight. He moved to it, carefully distributing his weight so he wouldn't fall or break another board. He couldn't imagine how he made it in the room the night before without falling through completely, the wood seemed to be almost disintegrating. Reaching the trap door he pulled on it to no avail. It was locked. He began to think about how to remove the rusty lock, maybe with a stone, or perhaps he could manipulate the water built up inside of it to unlock the pins.
Then the answer came to him.

Yas'o slammed his boot down on the door causing it to break apart into splinters. The boards around it cracked and shifted throwing him off balance and causing him to fall. He landed on the boards with a loud thud. They began to ache in cries of pain and age. Again he found himself motionless, trying his best to distribute his weight. Then another crack came, and then another. Within seconds Yas'o found himself falling.

Surprisingly his impact wasn't as hard as he expected it to be. Or it could have been his adrenaline prompting him to not feel the pain. He pulled himself up, the ground below him wet and damp. His wiped the mud from his face as he snapped back to reality.

"Preatorno," he whispered. Blue light filled his eyes, the glow illuminating the surrounding room... Then he noticed he wasn't in a basement. It was a cavern, hundreds of meters wide and long. Glowing mushrooms were littered across the base of the giant cave. Thousands of stalagmites reached down from above, their constant dripping of water echoing through the cavern.



Please critique it with ferocity.

Sua Sponte 
   
Made in gb
Longtime Dakkanaut





Scotland

Interesting start, it's nice to see someone to takes alot of care proofreading their work, there are hardly any mistakes. It seems quite rare, i myself often have to make frequent edits.

I very much enjoyed the sentence that begins 'It's thatched roof was in shambles.....' also how he describes his money as only being good for making a wish in a well. It shows a deft touch. I for one want to know what's in the cavern.

Mary Sue wrote: Perkustin is even more awesome than me!



 
   
Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim

As the poster above me said, well done and will await more.
   
 
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