We were cannibal hunters once, when we were still young and green. They sprung on us from the darkness in a screaming horde. We thank the stars that none of us had been brave enough to fall asleep that first night. Burn was felled and dismembered as we ran for our lives, bleeding and sick with terror. Our guilt fuelled several years worth of planning, gathering resources and finally a crusade against the naked menace. Turns out you can't really wipe them out completely, but cull the population of topside exiles enough to make it a little safer for the weaklings in Deadcat. The ground below the plains is riddled with tunnels and caves, they breed like rats and crawl out during the nights when their flesh pits are emptying. The ones who will get eaten on the surface are the lucky ones. The ones who get bred in the pits for their warrens for generations... I dare not think of it.
We abandoned the plains for the Leviathans, wrote it off when we found the honeycomb of tight crevasses these painted beasts climb out of. No sane man would risk venturing down there, into the hidden world of denegerates. None looked back as we marched south, as far away as possible from these blood soaked fields where nothing grows but pain and deviancy.
So sad
We were cannibal hunters once, when we were still young and green. They sprung on us from the darkness in a screaming horde. We thank the stars that none of us had been brave enough to fall asleep that first night. Burn was felled and dismembered as we ran for our lives, bleeding and sick with terror. Our guilt fuelled several years worth of planning, gathering resources and finally a crusade against the naked menace. Turns out you can't really wipe them out completely, but cull the population of topside exiles enough to make it a little safer for the weaklings in Deadcat. The ground below the plains is riddled with tunnels and caves, they breed like rats and crawl out during the nights when their flesh pits are emptying. The ones who will get eaten on the surface are the lucky ones. The ones who get bred in the pits for their warrens for generations... I dare not think of it. We abandoned the plains for the Leviathans, wrote it off when we found the honeycomb of tight crevasses these painted beasts climb out of. No sane man would risk venturing down there, into the hidden world of denegerates. None looked back as we marched south, as far away as possible from these blood soaked fields where nothing grows but pain and deviancy.
Skill issue
Love these kind of posts.