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Description
8. Their Haunt

Show us the area of their boundary where they feel most at home.

Where do they spend most of their time when they are in their boundary? Do they have any possessions or favorite locations?

Ruins stood just at the edge of the sandy ridge. His eyes peered out over the vast expanse of the desolate place he called home- the vision surreal. It was something that brought him true sadness, the dismal home that he could never repair. The rocks scorched with the fires that rampaged through not even months before. For them, no source of relief and no rains to quell their hot surface. The sun only amplifying the heat they gave off. All around him, the heavy sounds of insects chirping out in the sweltering heat. Chirping, croaking, and hissing as the cicadas chittered out their high-pitched song from the bark of the burned trees. They sung to each other, seemingly content in the scorching heat that swirled through the dusty land. It was so unbelievably hot, you could see the layer of blistering heat just above the surface. It was glassy and rippling, a mirror like surface that gave the illusion there was water somewhere. That’s all that it was, an illusion.

Yet Ruins called this place home, completely unwilling to vacate the hot fires of hell. So he stood there, his head swinging from side to side in disapproval. He sighed, heavily, his chest rising and falling with the motion as the grasses on his tree caught wind through them. They flowed with the dust that brushed off the surface of the ridge.

“Come Agni, let us go to the scorched tree.” He whispered quietly to both himself and his familiar. “I’ve had enough of this vision of desolation today. I cannot bare to look on anymore. Knowing there’s so much work that needs to be done.” He said to himself.

For a moment, his eyes closed and he remained there in silence, mourning the loss of the plains and all that who were there. After what seemed to be a few moments, ruins promptly turned on his hind paws and quietly walked away. For a while, he walked onward into the dusty plains. His paws kicked up ash and debris under them. He said absolutely nothing as he walked on. There was nothing to say, no one to talk to. Even his familiar seemed quiet and she flew a pace behind him. There was a sense of dread between them, depressed and heavy as they marched on. His eyes closed again as he approached a small curve to the land- a downward slope.

The hill just before it was steep, a chore for most normal creatures to walk up. The hill was nothing but sand, ash, and stone. It was formed during the following months after the fires, no trees to catch the wind that gusted through the open plain. Through time, a small mound formed, then more and more ash compiled onto it, cemented by the early morning’s dew. It made a thick mud that eventually hardened in the sun, cracked and breathing life under the arid sun.

The young esk stopped and glanced over it, wondering if it had gotten larger in the time that he was away. He couldn’t remember how large it was the last time, having been away for a month or two. But idly, he wondered if it had. Slowly, he ascended the slope until he reached the top of it. From the slope, he could view more of the scorched area, but he could also see an end to the sear that the fires left, soft grasses blowing out in the breeze. The winds here were different- different in the sense of their tranquility. They were gentle, and carried a soft scent of distant water to them. Life beyond the fires and scorched area. Ruins almost smiled inwardly, a rare gesture from the grief ridden esk.

“There.” He stated before glancing back at Agni. “It seems our venture has come to an end, the tree is just down there.” He said to himself, more of a comforting gesture than anything else.

He was right, nestled just beyond the dune they stood was a tree. A very large, very old tree. It was the first tree that ventured out into the plains, and the last tree that stood taller than the remnants of the fire. However, this tree was no longer alive with its own life. Instead, it fed the fires that licked at its very core. It crackled and smoldered for ages, too big to find peace in the rubble around it, and too stubborn to collapse into dust. So, the fires just ate away, slowly, and torturously. Ruins could only glance at it, bewildered and confused.

“Ahh, my friend. It has been too long.” He said to the tree. “Yet things remain unchanged. You still feed the fires within you.” He murmured as he walked down to stand before the smoldering tree. “I’m sorry that I haven’t found an end to your suffering. I know how you ache from feeding them for so long.” He continued on to the large tree.

Base Score: 16 AP (Writing: 830 words)
+50 AP (Origin Prompt)
+1 AP (Small Familiar/Swarm: 1 AP * 1)
+5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)
+8 AP (Storyteller Bonus: 8 AP * 1)
Total AP per submission: 80

Base Score: 8 GP (Writing: 830 words)
+10 GP (Origin Prompt)
+1 GP (Small Familiar/Swarm: 1 GP * 1)
+6 GP (Storyteller Bonus: 6 GP * 1)
Total GP per submission: 25

Description
8. Their Haunt

Show us the area of their boundary where they feel most at home.

Where do they spend most of their time when they are in their boundary? Do they have any possessions or favorite locations?

Ruins stood just at the edge of the sandy ridge. His eyes peered out over the vast expanse of the desolate place he called home- the vision surreal. It was something that brought him true sadness, the dismal home that he could never repair. The rocks scorched with the fires that rampaged through not even months before. For them, no source of relief and no rains to quell their hot surface. The sun only amplifying the heat they gave off. All around him, the heavy sounds of insects chirping out in the sweltering heat. Chirping, croaking, and hissing as the cicadas chittered out their high-pitched song from the bark of the burned trees. They sung to each other, seemingly content in the scorching heat that swirled through the dusty land. It was so unbelievably hot, you could see the layer of blistering heat just above the surface. It was glassy and rippling, a mirror like surface that gave the illusion there was water somewhere. That’s all that it was, an illusion.

Yet Ruins called this place home, completely unwilling to vacate the hot fires of hell. So he stood there, his head swinging from side to side in disapproval. He sighed, heavily, his chest rising and falling with the motion as the grasses on his tree caught wind through them. They flowed with the dust that brushed off the surface of the ridge.

“Come Agni, let us go to the scorched tree.” He whispered quietly to both himself and his familiar. “I’ve had enough of this vision of desolation today. I cannot bare to look on anymore. Knowing there’s so much work that needs to be done.” He said to himself.

For a moment, his eyes closed and he remained there in silence, mourning the loss of the plains and all that who were there. After what seemed to be a few moments, ruins promptly turned on his hind paws and quietly walked away. For a while, he walked onward into the dusty plains. His paws kicked up ash and debris under them. He said absolutely nothing as he walked on. There was nothing to say, no one to talk to. Even his familiar seemed quiet and she flew a pace behind him. There was a sense of dread between them, depressed and heavy as they marched on. His eyes closed again as he approached a small curve to the land- a downward slope.

The hill just before it was steep, a chore for most normal creatures to walk up. The hill was nothing but sand, ash, and stone. It was formed during the following months after the fires, no trees to catch the wind that gusted through the open plain. Through time, a small mound formed, then more and more ash compiled onto it, cemented by the early morning’s dew. It made a thick mud that eventually hardened in the sun, cracked and breathing life under the arid sun.

The young esk stopped and glanced over it, wondering if it had gotten larger in the time that he was away. He couldn’t remember how large it was the last time, having been away for a month or two. But idly, he wondered if it had. Slowly, he ascended the slope until he reached the top of it. From the slope, he could view more of the scorched area, but he could also see an end to the sear that the fires left, soft grasses blowing out in the breeze. The winds here were different- different in the sense of their tranquility. They were gentle, and carried a soft scent of distant water to them. Life beyond the fires and scorched area. Ruins almost smiled inwardly, a rare gesture from the grief ridden esk.

“There.” He stated before glancing back at Agni. “It seems our venture has come to an end, the tree is just down there.” He said to himself, more of a comforting gesture than anything else.

He was right, nestled just beyond the dune they stood was a tree. A very large, very old tree. It was the first tree that ventured out into the plains, and the last tree that stood taller than the remnants of the fire. However, this tree was no longer alive with its own life. Instead, it fed the fires that licked at its very core. It crackled and smoldered for ages, too big to find peace in the rubble around it, and too stubborn to collapse into dust. So, the fires just ate away, slowly, and torturously. Ruins could only glance at it, bewildered and confused.

“Ahh, my friend. It has been too long.” He said to the tree. “Yet things remain unchanged. You still feed the fires within you.” He murmured as he walked down to stand before the smoldering tree. “I’m sorry that I haven’t found an end to your suffering. I know how you ache from feeding them for so long.” He continued on to the large tree.

Base Score: 16 AP (Writing: 830 words)
+50 AP (Origin Prompt)
+1 AP (Small Familiar/Swarm: 1 AP * 1)
+5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)
+8 AP (Storyteller Bonus: 8 AP * 1)
Total AP per submission: 80

Base Score: 8 GP (Writing: 830 words)
+10 GP (Origin Prompt)
+1 GP (Small Familiar/Swarm: 1 GP * 1)
+6 GP (Storyteller Bonus: 6 GP * 1)
Total GP per submission: 25