( AvidWriter-92 and I (William G. Thorne) have decided to come together and write a story. It is a pseudo-RP. I have separated the posts for the reader to be able to differentiate between us, though our writing styles are different. We hope that everyone enjoys!! )

William G. Thorne:: Deep within the Black Forest…

The tribesman's gaze was fierce as he stalked his prey, every movement was met with quick shifting eyes. Green, piercing eyes, much like the arrow he intended to nail through the bucks heart. He stood vigilant, the sharp rocks beneath his feet going completely unnoticed. His only thought was to kill. The buck dropped his head, taking a deep drink of the sulfur laced spring. The tribesman raised his bow, a sturdy bow of yew etched with symbols of his tribe. He lined up his shot and with a quick flick of his fingers let the arrow fly. The buck bellowed and took off in a full sprint. The tribesman followed, his bare feet pounding against the soft peat moss on the forest floor.

Broken branches and splotches of blood marked the trail the buck had taken. A crunch of leaves signaled the tribesman to the buck's fall, as quick as a wild cat the tribesman lunged and drew his blade. The buck's neck was strong, the leather creating a tough shield against thorns, yet not against the tribesman's blade. The buck's final breath yielded a cascade of warm, red blood. The tribesman sat back and admired his kill. It was this deed that would allow his tribe to sustain their selves at least for a few days. He admired the buck's strength, he had put up a worthy struggle. His sacrifice would not go unknown.

Dragging the buck back to the camp was the next task. As he finished roping his kill the tribesman looked around, wary of predators that might greet him with their hungry eyes. It was not uncommon for him to fend off his prey from these creatures, and often he would end up with nothing but a few strands of fur to remind him of his journey.


AvidWriter-92:: Looking around suspiciously, the tribesman whispered a silent prayer to the gods. Strapping his kill to several sticks, he made a crude sled to carry it on. Through the dense forest, he trekked, stopping and waiting to catch his breath when he grew tired. Before long, he noticed a small stream and bent to take a drink. Wiping the perspiration from his brow, he sighed. The buck had weighed more than he expected, he thought to himself tiredly. But, he reminded himself, the reward would be worth it; the smiling faces of his tribe encouraged him to go on. Surely, it would put their worry about food at ease, for a little while, at least. Sighing, he began to shoulder the heavy rope, when a glint of metal against the setting sun caught his eye. Walking towards it, he could only wonder what it was. Could it be a knife? he thought eagerly, and wondered how any hunter could drop it in his foolishness. But as he neared the flashing spot, he noticed that something was not right.

He edged nearer, his knife poised, and noticed that it belonged to a woman, slumped against a tree. The shining piece of metal was hanging loosely around her neck. The girl's appearance was foreign to him. Her skin was pale, where his was tanned from the sun. Nobody he knew had skin this light of a color. Her hair was the color of the sun, pale yellow, that framed her face in waves. Her clothes looked strange as well, he noted. A delicate green fabric clung to her body, and he thought to himself that it wouldn't be very warm or protective. And, there, against her neck was the beacon that brought him here; an engraved piece of metal with strange markings, unknown to him. He dropped his arm holding the knife, unsure what to make of this strange woman.

What was she doing here in the middle of their tribe's forest? She didn't look like she was in the best of shape, he thought to himself. Maybe she had run away from her tribe? But from where?

She looked so out of place among the thorns and leaves of the forest floor... Inching closer, he saw the even rise and fall of her chest. Cautiously, he felt the side of her neck, and felt the thudding of her heart against his calloused fingertips. Suddenly, her eyes fluttered open, and he froze.


William G Thorne:: The tribesman's eyes were wide with fear, he could feel his mind swirling with old myths about wandering women. He wouldn't be cursed by this temptress; no doubt she was here to lure the village's men out of the village and into her soft bosom. His ashen skin prickled with bumps, he could feel his posture turning into that of a wounded dog. Tail between his legs, he began to back away. The woman threw her arms to her side, her mouth wide, showing rows of shiny white teeth. The tribesman yelped and jumped back, his knife poised to strike. The woman gracefully blinked her eyes and peered up at the native, unsure of what to make of him she watched his little act.

By this time the tribesman wanted answers, though he already knew the stories were true. He was to be the first victim of this temptress, his tribe's elders had told them of how these women work. The tribesman began to straighten his posture and calm his nerves, accepting his fate. He took a deep breath and put his free hand out in front of him, gesturing towards the woman. the sweat on his skin glistening in the afternoon light. The ashes grey tint illuminated with specks of gold that had been tattooed on him during his rite of passage.

"You," his voice like the deep bellow of the buck he had killed earlier. "These are our forests, why do you bring your curse here?"

The woman was taken aback with his talk of a curse. "I know of no curse. Who is 'our' forest? I didn't realize this wood had an owner". She wanted to giggle at the sheer ignorance of this native character, the way he danced around with his blade and spoke of myths.

"We protect the forest, as it protects us… We are its guardians and its keepers. The Nicari stand proud against any threat to our sacred forest" His words dripping with pride. "I know you already plan on taking me to your bosom and absorbing my soul for your youth. I want answers before I die, why are you here in our forest?" the grip on his knife grew stronger


AvidWriter-92: The woman stared blankly at the small blade pointed at her face. Knowing that it was meant to intimidate her, her gaze flickered to the man's eyes. She smiled slightly as she saw the nervousness in them; no matter how brave he pretended to be, she now knew otherwise.

She smiled questioningly and tilted her head to the side. "What nonsense are you telling me? Kill you? Why would I want to do that? I know nothing about this strange forest, or the strange people that inhabit it."

"Then why are you here?" the man asked again.

"I have no purpose being here. I just am."

"Stop with your trickery, woman. I know that your kind are sent here to lure men away from their tribes. I know what you are here for-to kill me. Now be done with it," he nearly shouted at her, his frustration evident at her toying with his mind.

"Stranger," the woman said. "I am not here to kill you. I know nothing of these tales about women consuming a man's soul. I have no intention of stealing yours."

"But, you are a strange women in these forests. Why are you here?"

"I don't know!" she screamed, flinging her arms in frustration. The man yelped and his knife clattered to the forest floor. "I don't remember being sent here. All I know is that I was sleeping outside, and when I woke up, you were crouched over me, feeling my neck! I can't explain everything that you want me to simply because I don't know the answers myself."

The man was puzzled. Truly, this woman was not tricking him; her despair was too real to be a decoy. Tears were welling in her eyes, and he felt a strange pang in his gut. Pity? he thought, surprised.

Wiping her tears away, she smiled apologetically. "If you don't believe me, look at my necklace. It is of a much different design than yours."

It was true, the symbols on their necklaces were both foreign to each other's eyes. Cautiously, she reached forward, and felt the smooth piece of metal wrapped around his neck. His arm caught hers, and she tried to yank away, but he held a firm grip. He placed his palm against her struggling one, and realized that the silver sparkles in hers contradicted his. This girl was quite beautiful, he mused to himself. Smiling slightly, he grasped the oddly shaped piece of metal around her neck. "Tell me about this and where you come from. I might not kill you then."

Author's note:

End of Chapter 1, tell us what ya'll think! Reviews are most appreciated :)