In the wasteland, there was a gravestone. A single, weather-beaten grave, holding the remains of who knows what. Then, out of the dirt, pushed an arm. Then another. Then a skull and a ribcage. Slowly, ever so slowly, the skeleton pushed from the ground. Then more. And more.
Once 20 had come from their grave, their bones formed a whirlwind, and as they span they knitted together into a humanoid form. That form's eyes lit up, ominous points of blood-red light, casting around the wasteland they found themselves in.
Marikul, Neutral Evil god of undeath, was finally free.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hi! I'm EJO. I am a silly billy who forgets to play Genshin Impact every day and totally DOESN'T simp for at least three different ninja girls. Some other facts about me:
Milio has been ditched. Now Xerath is my friend.
My average accuracy in Marvel Rivals is about 15%.
Crotalus the Lord of Desert and Famine walks through his wasteland, finding pleasure in the heat of the sun and the barrenness of the landscape.
Here and there, however, he encounters small patches of mud, grasses, and hibiscuses.
He digs his bone fingers into the mud and it crumbles and cracks as water is drained from it. He brushes a skeletal hand over the grass causing it to grow knotted and nasty and dull its green color. His gaze falls upon a few hibiscus and they wither under his glare. "Who encroaches upon my domain?" His voice hisses like a dry wind across sun scorched sand.
Crotalus the Lord of Desert and Famine walks through his wasteland, finding pleasure in the heat of the sun and the barrenness of the landscape.
Here and there, however, he encounters small patches of mud, grasses, and hibiscuses.
He digs his bone fingers into the mud and it crumbles and cracks as water is drained from it. He brushes a skeletal hand over the grass causing it to grow knotted and nasty and dull its green color. His gaze falls upon a few hibiscus and they wither under his glare. "Who encroaches upon my domain?" His voice hisses like a dry wind across sun scorched sand.
Another voice whispers in response, like the flow of water along roots. “I encroach…”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Crotalus the Lord of Desert and Famine walks through his wasteland, finding pleasure in the heat of the sun and the barrenness of the landscape.
Here and there, however, he encounters small patches of mud, grasses, and hibiscuses.
He digs his bone fingers into the mud and it crumbles and cracks as water is drained from it. He brushes a skeletal hand over the grass causing it to grow knotted and nasty and dull its green color. His gaze falls upon a few hibiscus and they wither under his glare. "Who encroaches upon my domain?" His voice hisses like a dry wind across sun scorched sand.
Another voice whispers in response, like the flow of water along roots. “I encroach…”
"Ain't no one gonna trespass on my land bring their water and life with them. Show yerself." He says with a flap of his poncho. A few twisted tumbleweeds roll around his boots.
Crotalus the Lord of Desert and Famine walks through his wasteland, finding pleasure in the heat of the sun and the barrenness of the landscape.
Here and there, however, he encounters small patches of mud, grasses, and hibiscuses.
He digs his bone fingers into the mud and it crumbles and cracks as water is drained from it. He brushes a skeletal hand over the grass causing it to grow knotted and nasty and dull its green color. His gaze falls upon a few hibiscus and they wither under his glare. "Who encroaches upon my domain?" His voice hisses like a dry wind across sun scorched sand.
Another voice whispers in response, like the flow of water along roots. “I encroach…”
"Ain't no one gonna trespass on my land bring their water and life with them. Show yerself." He says with a flap of his poncho. A few twisted tumbleweeds roll around his boots.
Behind him is a medusa with sleek black scales and a serpentine bottom half. Her snake tail splits into muddy roots near the end, and blue and pink flowers bloom along her arms, tail, and spine. A pair of sodden dragonfly wings emerge from her back. Savut, Lady of the Swamp, is here to expand her domain.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Crotalus the Lord of Desert and Famine walks through his wasteland, finding pleasure in the heat of the sun and the barrenness of the landscape.
Here and there, however, he encounters small patches of mud, grasses, and hibiscuses.
He digs his bone fingers into the mud and it crumbles and cracks as water is drained from it. He brushes a skeletal hand over the grass causing it to grow knotted and nasty and dull its green color. His gaze falls upon a few hibiscus and they wither under his glare. "Who encroaches upon my domain?" His voice hisses like a dry wind across sun scorched sand.
Another voice whispers in response, like the flow of water along roots. “I encroach…”
"Ain't no one gonna trespass on my land bring their water and life with them. Show yerself." He says with a flap of his poncho. A few twisted tumbleweeds roll around his boots.
Behind him is a medusa with sleek black scales and a serpentine bottom half. Her snake tail splits into muddy roots near the end, and blue and pink flowers bloom along her arms, tail, and spine. A pair of sodden dragonfly wings emerge from her back. Savut, Lady of the Swamp, is here to expand her domain.
"So you ain't all to differnt than me. You got a clear love for serpents." A diamondback buzzes as it slithers from one of his eye sockets to another before disappearing in the darkness of his eyes. "All the same, I'd 'preciate it if you'd find somewhere else to wet the earth. There's plenty of land for the taking, you have no need to trespass on mine."
Crotalus the Lord of Desert and Famine walks through his wasteland, finding pleasure in the heat of the sun and the barrenness of the landscape.
Here and there, however, he encounters small patches of mud, grasses, and hibiscuses.
He digs his bone fingers into the mud and it crumbles and cracks as water is drained from it. He brushes a skeletal hand over the grass causing it to grow knotted and nasty and dull its green color. His gaze falls upon a few hibiscus and they wither under his glare. "Who encroaches upon my domain?" His voice hisses like a dry wind across sun scorched sand.
Another voice whispers in response, like the flow of water along roots. “I encroach…”
"Ain't no one gonna trespass on my land bring their water and life with them. Show yerself." He says with a flap of his poncho. A few twisted tumbleweeds roll around his boots.
Behind him is a medusa with sleek black scales and a serpentine bottom half. Her snake tail splits into muddy roots near the end, and blue and pink flowers bloom along her arms, tail, and spine. A pair of sodden dragonfly wings emerge from her back. Savut, Lady of the Swamp, is here to expand her domain.
"So you ain't all too differnt than me. You got a clear love for serpents." A diamondback buzzes as it slithers from one of his eye sockets to another before disappearing in the darkness of his eyes. "All the same, I'd 'preciate it if you'd find somewhere else to wet the earth. There's plenty of land for the taking, you have no need to trespass on mine."
“This is the place where I was born. I know no other lands. Who are you?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Vultures pinwheel through the air, taking in the scene.
As night rises on Herionidus’ grove, everyone hides beneath shelters and dead trees, in tents and in bushes. Plants have all wilted but a few are starting to sprout anew again, grass is coming into the land and a small rainstorm starts to form.
there are about a dozen groups of hundreds, possibly thousands of people that have stayed together and have created collective areas that are semi safe, with housing and leftover food. Anyone not in these groups, the majority of people, are alone or with their friends or families, hoping they aren’t the next victim.
The sun sets completely and a human who is limping towards their shelter as fast as they can is suddenly knocked over onto the ground by a horrible humanoid, with desaturated skin, black eyes, and pearly white teeth sharper than knives. The creature attacks the human, killing him within a mere second.
Five other creatures of similar appearance are stalking the lands as the sun falls, hunting and killing any humans near, before eating them. They don’t seem to ever be sated.
Crotalus the Lord of Desert and Famine walks through his wasteland, finding pleasure in the heat of the sun and the barrenness of the landscape.
Here and there, however, he encounters small patches of mud, grasses, and hibiscuses.
He digs his bone fingers into the mud and it crumbles and cracks as water is drained from it. He brushes a skeletal hand over the grass causing it to grow knotted and nasty and dull its green color. His gaze falls upon a few hibiscus and they wither under his glare. "Who encroaches upon my domain?" His voice hisses like a dry wind across sun scorched sand.
Another voice whispers in response, like the flow of water along roots. “I encroach…”
"Ain't no one gonna trespass on my land bring their water and life with them. Show yerself." He says with a flap of his poncho. A few twisted tumbleweeds roll around his boots.
Behind him is a medusa with sleek black scales and a serpentine bottom half. Her snake tail splits into muddy roots near the end, and blue and pink flowers bloom along her arms, tail, and spine. A pair of sodden dragonfly wings emerge from her back. Savut, Lady of the Swamp, is here to expand her domain.
"So you ain't all too differnt than me. You got a clear love for serpents." A diamondback buzzes as it slithers from one of his eye sockets to another before disappearing in the darkness of his eyes. "All the same, I'd 'preciate it if you'd find somewhere else to wet the earth. There's plenty of land for the taking, you have no need to trespass on mine."
“This is the place where I was born. I know no other lands. Who are you?”
"Surely a thing as water-soaked as you weren't born in my land. I'm Crotalus, Lord of the Desert. Now who are you?"
Crotalus the Lord of Desert and Famine walks through his wasteland, finding pleasure in the heat of the sun and the barrenness of the landscape.
Here and there, however, he encounters small patches of mud, grasses, and hibiscuses.
He digs his bone fingers into the mud and it crumbles and cracks as water is drained from it. He brushes a skeletal hand over the grass causing it to grow knotted and nasty and dull its green color. His gaze falls upon a few hibiscus and they wither under his glare. "Who encroaches upon my domain?" His voice hisses like a dry wind across sun scorched sand.
Another voice whispers in response, like the flow of water along roots. “I encroach…”
"Ain't no one gonna trespass on my land bring their water and life with them. Show yerself." He says with a flap of his poncho. A few twisted tumbleweeds roll around his boots.
Behind him is a medusa with sleek black scales and a serpentine bottom half. Her snake tail splits into muddy roots near the end, and blue and pink flowers bloom along her arms, tail, and spine. A pair of sodden dragonfly wings emerge from her back. Savut, Lady of the Swamp, is here to expand her domain.
"So you ain't all too differnt than me. You got a clear love for serpents." A diamondback buzzes as it slithers from one of his eye sockets to another before disappearing in the darkness of his eyes. "All the same, I'd 'preciate it if you'd find somewhere else to wet the earth. There's plenty of land for the taking, you have no need to trespass on mine."
“This is the place where I was born. I know no other lands. Who are you?”
"Surely a thing as water-soaked as you weren't born in my land. I'm Crotalus, Lord of the Desert. Now who are you?"
“I believe my name is Savut. But besides that, I can’t recall anything. I sprung up here, and the swamp followed. It is a part of me, and follows me. Even when it is reclaimed by the dry and dusty.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Vultures pinwheel through the air, taking in the scene.
As night rises on Herionidus’ grove, everyone hides beneath shelters and dead trees, in tents and in bushes. Plants have all wilted but a few are starting to sprout anew again, grass is coming into the land and a small rainstorm starts to form.
there are about a dozen groups of hundreds, possibly thousands of people that have stayed together and have created collective areas that are semi safe, with housing and leftover food. Anyone not in these groups, the majority of people, are alone or with their friends or families, hoping they aren’t the next victim.
The sun sets completely and a human who is limping towards their shelter as fast as they can is suddenly knocked over onto the ground by a horrible humanoid, with desaturated skin, black eyes, and pearly white teeth sharper than knives. The creature attacks the human, killing him within a mere second.
Five other creatures of similar appearance are stalking the lands as the sun falls, hunting and killing any humans near, before eating them. They don’t seem to ever be sated.
The vultures swirl closer and closer until whirling into a humanoid form and dropping from the sky. A gaunt figure with the head of a longhorn skull and in a sandy poncho lands on the ground and rises up. This god of famine approaches one of the beasts.
Behind him is a medusa with sleek black scales and a serpentine bottom half. Her snake tail splits into muddy roots near the end, and blue and pink flowers bloom along her arms, tail, and spine. A pair of sodden dragonfly wings emerge from her back. Savut, Lady of the Swamp, is here to expand her domain.
"So you ain't all too differnt than me. You got a clear love for serpents." A diamondback buzzes as it slithers from one of his eye sockets to another before disappearing in the darkness of his eyes. "All the same, I'd 'preciate it if you'd find somewhere else to wet the earth. There's plenty of land for the taking, you have no need to trespass on mine."
“This is the place where I was born. I know no other lands. Who are you?”
"Surely a thing as water-soaked as you weren't born in my land. I'm Crotalus, Lord of the Desert. Now who are you?"
“I believe my name is Savut. But besides that, I can’t recall anything. I sprung up here, and the swamp followed. It is a part of me, and follows me. Even when it is reclaimed by the dry and dusty.”
"Well now Miss, I suggest that you run along and find your own patch of land to soak. My desert don't need to be watered none." He sticks his thumbs into his snakeskin belt.
Behind him is a medusa with sleek black scales and a serpentine bottom half. Her snake tail splits into muddy roots near the end, and blue and pink flowers bloom along her arms, tail, and spine. A pair of sodden dragonfly wings emerge from her back. Savut, Lady of the Swamp, is here to expand her domain.
"So you ain't all too differnt than me. You got a clear love for serpents." A diamondback buzzes as it slithers from one of his eye sockets to another before disappearing in the darkness of his eyes. "All the same, I'd 'preciate it if you'd find somewhere else to wet the earth. There's plenty of land for the taking, you have no need to trespass on mine."
“This is the place where I was born. I know no other lands. Who are you?”
"Surely a thing as water-soaked as you weren't born in my land. I'm Crotalus, Lord of the Desert. Now who are you?"
“I believe my name is Savut. But besides that, I can’t recall anything. I sprung up here, and the swamp followed. It is a part of me, and follows me. Even when it is reclaimed by the dry and dusty.”
"Well now Miss, I suggest that you run along and find your own patch of land to soak. My desert don't need to be watered none." He sticks his thumbs into his snakeskin belt.
“Is that a threat? I don’t find this place appealing at all. It exists only to kill, whereas my lands are trials for the worthy who can prove their knowledge.” A dark cloud of midges has begun forming from hatching eggs on the knotted bark of Savut’s back.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Vultures pinwheel through the air, taking in the scene.
As night rises on Herionidus’ grove, everyone hides beneath shelters and dead trees, in tents and in bushes. Plants have all wilted but a few are starting to sprout anew again, grass is coming into the land and a small rainstorm starts to form.
there are about a dozen groups of hundreds, possibly thousands of people that have stayed together and have created collective areas that are semi safe, with housing and leftover food. Anyone not in these groups, the majority of people, are alone or with their friends or families, hoping they aren’t the next victim.
The sun sets completely and a human who is limping towards their shelter as fast as they can is suddenly knocked over onto the ground by a horrible humanoid, with desaturated skin, black eyes, and pearly white teeth sharper than knives. The creature attacks the human, killing him within a mere second.
Five other creatures of similar appearance are stalking the lands as the sun falls, hunting and killing any humans near, before eating them. They don’t seem to ever be sated.
The vultures swirl closer and closer until whirling into a humanoid form and dropping from the sky. A gaunt figure with the head of a longhorn skull and in a sandy poncho lands on the ground and rises up. This god of famine approaches one of the beasts.
It turns its head with a bone cracking jerk and with a smiling face of pointed teeth, it speaks in a voice as sweet as honey.
”Cro-Crotalus… A God of Famine in a land of Gluttons… how ironic…” it coos in its honey-sweet voice, blood running down from its mouth.
Behind him is a medusa with sleek black scales and a serpentine bottom half. Her snake tail splits into muddy roots near the end, and blue and pink flowers bloom along her arms, tail, and spine. A pair of sodden dragonfly wings emerge from her back. Savut, Lady of the Swamp, is here to expand her domain.
"So you ain't all too differnt than me. You got a clear love for serpents." A diamondback buzzes as it slithers from one of his eye sockets to another before disappearing in the darkness of his eyes. "All the same, I'd 'preciate it if you'd find somewhere else to wet the earth. There's plenty of land for the taking, you have no need to trespass on mine."
“This is the place where I was born. I know no other lands. Who are you?”
"Surely a thing as water-soaked as you weren't born in my land. I'm Crotalus, Lord of the Desert. Now who are you?"
“I believe my name is Savut. But besides that, I can’t recall anything. I sprung up here, and the swamp followed. It is a part of me, and follows me. Even when it is reclaimed by the dry and dusty.”
"Well now Miss, I suggest that you run along and find your own patch of land to soak. My desert don't need to be watered none." He sticks his thumbs into his snakeskin belt.
“Is that a threat? I don’t find this place appealing at all. It exists only to kill, whereas my lands are trials for the worthy who can prove their knowledge.” A dark cloud of midges has begun forming from hatching eggs on the knotted bark of Savut’s back.
"It ain't no threat, at least it don't have to be."
A rattling sound rings out when you say that. "The desert exists to be alive. It is a land meant to be thrived in. Sure it's harsh, so is life. My domain is full of trials for life to prove itself in and overcome. My land don't suffer fools lightly and I don't either. You think a canvas has to be dripping in thick clots of paint to be art. I'm a little more sparse with my paint strokes but my world's life ain't nothing to be scoffed at." You feel a wave of dry hot heat wash over you, emanating from the desert god.
Vultures pinwheel through the air, taking in the scene.
As night rises on Herionidus’ grove, everyone hides beneath shelters and dead trees, in tents and in bushes. Plants have all wilted but a few are starting to sprout anew again, grass is coming into the land and a small rainstorm starts to form.
there are about a dozen groups of hundreds, possibly thousands of people that have stayed together and have created collective areas that are semi safe, with housing and leftover food. Anyone not in these groups, the majority of people, are alone or with their friends or families, hoping they aren’t the next victim.
The sun sets completely and a human who is limping towards their shelter as fast as they can is suddenly knocked over onto the ground by a horrible humanoid, with desaturated skin, black eyes, and pearly white teeth sharper than knives. The creature attacks the human, killing him within a mere second.
Five other creatures of similar appearance are stalking the lands as the sun falls, hunting and killing any humans near, before eating them. They don’t seem to ever be sated.
The vultures swirl closer and closer until whirling into a humanoid form and dropping from the sky. A gaunt figure with the head of a longhorn skull and in a sandy poncho lands on the ground and rises up. This god of famine approaches one of the beasts.
It turns its head with a bone cracking jerk and with a smiling face of pointed teeth, it speaks in a voice as sweet as honey.
”Cro-Crotalus… A God of Famine in a land of Gluttons… how ironic…” it coos in its honey-sweet voice, blood running down from its mouth.
"You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name but I don't know yorn. You've got quite the appetite. Ain't sustainable."
*Freddy*
In the wasteland, there was a gravestone. A single, weather-beaten grave, holding the remains of who knows what.
Then, out of the dirt, pushed an arm. Then another. Then a skull and a ribcage. Slowly, ever so slowly, the skeleton pushed from the ground. Then more. And more.
Once 20 had come from their grave, their bones formed a whirlwind, and as they span they knitted together into a humanoid form. That form's eyes lit up, ominous points of blood-red light, casting around the wasteland they found themselves in.
Marikul, Neutral Evil god of undeath, was finally free.
Hi! I'm EJO. I am a silly billy who forgets to play Genshin Impact every day and totally DOESN'T simp for at least three different ninja girls. Some other facts about me:
Milio has been ditched. Now Xerath is my friend.
My average accuracy in Marvel Rivals is about 15%.
I like cheese.
Crotalus the Lord of Desert and Famine walks through his wasteland, finding pleasure in the heat of the sun and the barrenness of the landscape.
Here and there, however, he encounters small patches of mud, grasses, and hibiscuses.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
He digs his bone fingers into the mud and it crumbles and cracks as water is drained from it. He brushes a skeletal hand over the grass causing it to grow knotted and nasty and dull its green color. His gaze falls upon a few hibiscus and they wither under his glare. "Who encroaches upon my domain?" His voice hisses like a dry wind across sun scorched sand.
Another voice whispers in response, like the flow of water along roots. “I encroach…”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
The Red festival continues on.
So much blood.
so much screaming.
so much death.
So much food…
"Ain't no one gonna trespass on my land bring their water and life with them. Show yerself." He says with a flap of his poncho. A few twisted tumbleweeds roll around his boots.
Behind him is a medusa with sleek black scales and a serpentine bottom half. Her snake tail splits into muddy roots near the end, and blue and pink flowers bloom along her arms, tail, and spine. A pair of sodden dragonfly wings emerge from her back. Savut, Lady of the Swamp, is here to expand her domain.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Vultures pinwheel through the air, taking in the scene.
"So you ain't all to differnt than me. You got a clear love for serpents." A diamondback buzzes as it slithers from one of his eye sockets to another before disappearing in the darkness of his eyes. "All the same, I'd 'preciate it if you'd find somewhere else to wet the earth. There's plenty of land for the taking, you have no need to trespass on mine."
“This is the place where I was born. I know no other lands. Who are you?”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
As night rises on Herionidus’ grove, everyone hides beneath shelters and dead trees, in tents and in bushes. Plants have all wilted but a few are starting to sprout anew again, grass is coming into the land and a small rainstorm starts to form.
there are about a dozen groups of hundreds, possibly thousands of people that have stayed together and have created collective areas that are semi safe, with housing and leftover food. Anyone not in these groups, the majority of people, are alone or with their friends or families, hoping they aren’t the next victim.
The sun sets completely and a human who is limping towards their shelter as fast as they can is suddenly knocked over onto the ground by a horrible humanoid, with desaturated skin, black eyes, and pearly white teeth sharper than knives. The creature attacks the human, killing him within a mere second.
Five other creatures of similar appearance are stalking the lands as the sun falls, hunting and killing any humans near, before eating them. They don’t seem to ever be sated.
"Surely a thing as water-soaked as you weren't born in my land. I'm Crotalus, Lord of the Desert. Now who are you?"
“I believe my name is Savut. But besides that, I can’t recall anything. I sprung up here, and the swamp followed. It is a part of me, and follows me. Even when it is reclaimed by the dry and dusty.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
The vultures swirl closer and closer until whirling into a humanoid form and dropping from the sky. A gaunt figure with the head of a longhorn skull and in a sandy poncho lands on the ground and rises up. This god of famine approaches one of the beasts.
"Well now Miss, I suggest that you run along and find your own patch of land to soak. My desert don't need to be watered none." He sticks his thumbs into his snakeskin belt.
“Is that a threat? I don’t find this place appealing at all. It exists only to kill, whereas my lands are trials for the worthy who can prove their knowledge.” A dark cloud of midges has begun forming from hatching eggs on the knotted bark of Savut’s back.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
It turns its head with a bone cracking jerk and with a smiling face of pointed teeth, it speaks in a voice as sweet as honey.
”Cro-Crotalus… A God of Famine in a land of Gluttons… how ironic…” it coos in its honey-sweet voice, blood running down from its mouth.
"It ain't no threat, at least it don't have to be."
A rattling sound rings out when you say that. "The desert exists to be alive. It is a land meant to be thrived in. Sure it's harsh, so is life. My domain is full of trials for life to prove itself in and overcome. My land don't suffer fools lightly and I don't either. You think a canvas has to be dripping in thick clots of paint to be art. I'm a little more sparse with my paint strokes but my world's life ain't nothing to be scoffed at." You feel a wave of dry hot heat wash over you, emanating from the desert god.
"You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name but I don't know yorn. You've got quite the appetite. Ain't sustainable."