Let's Play the Doomed Pilgrim [Sundered Land]

edited July 2013 in Story Games
I’m a warrior seeking peace and an end to bloodshed. I’m on pilgrimage to the Temple to No Gods in the distant City of Gulls. My pilgrimage has brought me to High Graven's Pass in the Jagged Lands, inhabited by Ras Gula's Reavers (followers of a grim torturer-devil). My goal is to pass safely through and continue my pilgrimage.
You, my friends online, play the world. Your goal is to see me to my doom, instead of safely on my way. You’re allowed only to directly answer my direct questions, though, so you might not be able to do it.
The rules: 1. Only answer my questions. 2. If you don’t already know the answer, make something up. 3. Keep your answers short. 4. If your answer’s disruptive, I’m allowed to delete it. 5. Otherwise, I have to go with the first answer somebody gives. I’ll +1 it. 6. You may subscribe to this thread if you like. Please use the sentence ‘no gods watch over you’ to do so.


  • I have a long knife under my shirt, and the summoning-name of a ghost burned into my memory. I am stirring the dying embers of a small fire with a stick in a crevice between boulders, when something warns me of approaching danger. What warns me? Anyone should answer.
  • A piercing scream that suddenly dies down echoes through the pass. Then there is silence, before... drums.
  • I breathe deeply and relax into my feet as a bolt of fear passes through me. I slowly and smoothly get to my feet, my ears alert to nearby sounds. I wonder whether the drums mean that the Reavers are about to feast on a victim, or whether they've spotted me and are starting to pursue.

    Do I feel like I'm being watched? Anyone should answer.
  • You feel strongly that you are being watched. Emphatically, no gods watch over you.
    [Subscribed and intrigued.]
  • edited July 2013
    Feeling the eyes on the back of my neck, I decide there is no point in bothering to douse my fire - they already know where I am. I feel the reassuring weight of the knife under my shirt, and start to run, making my way between the jagged boulders covering the landscape.

    Is there a vantage point ahead from which I can observe any pursuers? Anyone should answer.
  • There is an odd rock formation up ahead; a path winds crookedly up it, leading to a narrow pinnacle from which one may observe the pass discreetly.
  • edited July 2013
  • [From 5, I have to take the first answer given!]

    I run quickly up the crooked path to the rock formation ahead and make my way cautiously up to the pinnacle. I lie down and peer over the edge, to see whether I can make out who is following me.

    What do I see on the pass below? Anyone should answer.
  • A hunting party of Reavers, two banging drums, all carrying cruel hooks and short-swords; there are five, but from what you've heard the ritualistic number in a hunting party is seven.
  • I groan. Five is bad enough, but where are the other two? I am concerned that they might already be ahead of me, maybe waiting in ambush. I retreat from the edge of the rock and start scrambling down. I can't afford to wait and make sure, or the Reavers will catch up. I use all my senses to scan the area, looking for an escape route.

    What is my best option to evade the Reaver party behind me? Anyone should answer.
  • Spill a substantial portion of your own blood on the ground to divert their attention towards it (and away from you).
  • Oh dear, I might spill my own blood, but then what if they catch me? I'll have no strength left to fight. I decide to make a run for it, and steel myself for a long, hard chase.

    Can I outdistance them? Anyone should answer.
  • You can outdistance the five, but alas, the two remain unaccounted for.
  • I am nearly at the limit of my strength when I pause to rest in the shadow of a cragged rock, panting. I finally allow myself to believe that I have lost the five Reavers. As I pause to drink from a small stream of water cascading down the cliffside, the thought of the whereabouts of the other two Reavers troubles me. I recall an old wives' tale about how sometimes the tribesmen of these parts were known to develop powers, including shapeshifting. Could the missing Reavers be of such a kind? I shudder at the thought. Perhaps even now one of them might be observing me. I look up at the sky, and carefully at the rocky landscape around me.

    Do I see anything out of place? Anyone should answer.
  • Yes you see something out of place. The water you are drinking is slowly turning red and beginning to taste...metallic.
  • edited July 2013
    [woops, I should refresh before posting]
  • I move quickly away from the blood red stream, sputtering and spitting. What devilry is this? Has some fell power turned water to blood? Then I look up as I notice a shadow fall over the spot where I was standing, to see a body falling silently from over the side of the cliff. I jump out of the way as it smashes with force into the rocky ground.

    The shattered body is clearly one of the Reavers, but it has been torn nearly in two, and that's before the fall. Never have I seen a weapon that could cause such horrific damage. Who - or what - was the agent of this man's demise? And where is the other Reaver? Was he the killer?

    I've had enough of subterfuge. "Scion of Ras Gula!" I call out, "show yourself! Face me!" After a brief pause, I notice a figure emerge from the rocks to my left. I quickly draw my knife and make ready for an attack, but then pause. He - or rather, she, as I quickly notice - is walking with a limp, but trying to disguise that she's in pain. Her dark hair, tied back in a warrior's knot, is coming loose. Her blue and gold body paint is consistent with that of the other Reaver. She levels her spear at me. Her eyes are cold, but I think I note a bit of fear in them. Perhaps she can be bargained with, and I won't have to spill more blood - or have my own spilled. I extend my hand in the universal gesture of parley.

    Can she be bargained with? Anyone should answer.

  • Can she be bargained with? Do you value your spleen? Definitely not. That fear in her eyes makes her dangerous, unpredictable.
  • [Since it's a fight, I need to roll, and get a 10 on a 2d6. That gets me "I might be able to overpower the enemy"]

    She responds to my gesture of peace with a snarl. "We are Reavers. We do not bargain. We torment and kill!" she spits out, and lunges at me with her spear. But she is wounded already, and I might be able to overpower her. Moving out of the line of her attack, I kick out at her hurt leg. She collapses on to one knee with a cry, but swiftly turns and lashes out with the spear again. I block the spear thrust with my knife, and twisting my body to the side I close with her, grabbing her weapon arm with my other hand. I apply a wrist lock with the help of my knee, and her spear clatters to the ground. She tries to draw something from her belt, but I quickly strike her in the temple with the pommel of my knife.

    Does she stop fighting long enough for me to get away? Anyone should answer.
  • This one will never let you get away. She keeps fighting hard, and calls out as if trying to let someone know of your location.
  • [This is the second round of the fight, and the last time I get to roll; I get a 4 on 2d6, which gets me "The enemy might kill me here"]

    The blow to her temple barely slows her down. She grabs my knife hand and pulls me down to the ground, trying to dislodge my grip. She does not have my skills or training as a warrior, but she is strong - almost superhumanly strong. I maintain my grip on the knife, but I am flat on the ground and she reaches for my eyes with her other hand. I block her, but she is too strong to fight directly, I have to turn her arm to the side as I try to escape. As we struggle on the rocky ground, images of past battles flash through my mind, all the violence and the blood. A wave of sadness passes through me; all I wanted was peace and an end to bloodshed, but now despite my best efforts I have to shed blood again.

    With a triumphant cry accompanied by superhuman strength, the Reaver grabs me by the throat and lifts me up in the air, smashing me back into the cliffside. Her left arm holds my right, my knife hand, trapped against the rocky surface as she chokes me with the other. Her cold eyes stare into mine, no doubt anticipating the life leaving them. Her strength is overpowering, probably supernatural. The vision at the edges of my eyes starts to go dim. I only have one move left.

    I let go of the knife with my right hand, catching it with my free left. Moving my hand up and down in an arc, I cut savagely into her right arm, opening the radial artery. Blood spurts from her arm. If she still cares about preserving her own life, she will let me go long enough to tend to her wound, which will enable me to escape.

    Do I have a chance to get away? Anyone should answer.
  • I quickly slip out from her clutches as her grip slackens, and run, gasping for breath as I do. I risk a quick glance behind me and see with dismay that she is reaching for the spear she dropped. Even if she can't catch me, with her supernatural strength she'll still be able to skewer me with a good throw; there is no suitable cover for me on the path ahead. The other Reavers begin shouting and screaming. Fearing the awful pressure of a spearpoint in my back, I run on with desperate energy, trying to move in an unpredictable path.

    I run on for awhile with no sign of a spear coming anywhere near me. What are the Reavers doing? I look back again to see an amazing sight. Holding her wounded arm against her side, the female Reaver is attacking the others, already having skewered two. Why? Do the others blame her for the death of the first Reaver? Did she transcend some ritual code, or is it simply a dispute over who gets to kill me first? I do not know; they are screaming at each other in words I do not understand. All I do know is that I cannot afford to miss this chance to flee.

    I will run, run like I never have before, and I will not look back again. I will run to whatever fate awaits me under this sky in this forsaken land. No Gods watch over me, so perhaps none of them will stand in my way.

    And so, at long last, the cries of the Reavers fade away, and I reach the end of the pass and leave the Jagged Lands behind me, happy to see their end.

    The End

  • Thanks very much to everyone who played with me, that was fun! I was sure I was going to die there :-) And thanks to Vincent Baker for the game!
  • That was sooooooooooooo cool.
  • That was very cool. I also tried it out in an open forum and thru email with friends and its a great little game! So many skills to master! :)
  • I really like playing the spectator in this game. "How about....BLOOD!"
  • I agree, a very creative, neat concept by Vincent. And I haven't been a spectator yet, but look forward to it :)
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