Patrick

Cute little poem. Just a minor note: umarmung should be written with an uppercase u, being a noun. Nah, that's just nitpicking, given the fix format of what you had to write I think it is a pretty good poem.

I am slightly confused as to what our roles are reduced to now. Do we still make the calls of what we do in the game or do we just send you strategies?

Patrick sat quietly sipping his drink while all the commotion was going on. He seemed unaffected by everything going around him, but had someone been observing him closer they could have seen that he was closely following everything happening, his eyes darting between the cards on the table and the faces of the players.

 

Noticing Sweet looking at him he smiled and turned to look at her, then winked.

 

With a simple gesture of his left hand he ordered a tequila from the waitress. Taking it from the passing tray before the waitress had a chance to give it to him he turned back to the table and looked to see who's turn it was to play.

Chapter 4

 

Huddling from the thunderstorm in a small cave among the mountaineous regions two weeks travel south of the small village Jerrick looked at Olira, who exhausted from the day's walking had fallen asleep in his lap. Jerrick caressed her neck and Olira murmured softly in her sleep. He could have stayed the whole night like this watching her in the brief flashes of lightning, but he had something else to do.

 

Gently he put a hand under Olira's head and lifting it slid out from under her. He slid his pack under her head and laid it down. He checked to see whether she was still asleep and when satisfied walked outside into the storm.

 

The rain soaked him fully in less than a minute. The wind blew his shoulder-length hair behind him. Jerrick took out a small, oval shaped stone from an amulet around his neck.

 

"Calad i athrad!"

 

The amulet glowed faint blue, but did not have the effect Jerrick had been expecting. A massive bolt of lightning from the clouds above struck a cluster of trees on the hillside about five miles away. A large oak tree, maybe over a century old burst into flames, which started quickly dying out as the rain hit them.

 

Jerrick looked around unsure what he needed to do now. He had sent the signal, but he was unsure of what was going to happen now.

 

He waited fifteen minutes, then after nothing happened turned to go back towards the cave. The rain then suddenly got stronger and it was due to this that he did not hear the footsteps behind him.

 

----------°°°°°----------

 

"Olira! Wake up!" - the sun had risen on the far horizon and was slowly starting to dissipate the rain clouds. The storm had stopped and the rain was reduced to a mere drizzle.

 

Olira sat up, a sleepy expression on her face.

 

"Olira I would like you to meet Maqal Bazeplon."

 

A tall, dark haired man stood in the entrance to the cave. He nodded to Olira and then spoke to Jerrick fast, in a language which both of them seemed to understand, but was alien to Olira. Jerrick interrupted him.

 

"Maqal you can talk in the common tongue. I have nothing to hide from her."

 

"Jerrick, the events you have told me of last night are grave indeed. Piercers being used just against you. You must really be a thorn in their eye."

 

"Maqal you haven't heard all yet."

 

"What are you two talking about?" - Olira asked, a puzzled expression showing on her face.

 

"Olira, have you ever heard of the people known as the Kiriati?"

 

OOC: "Calad i athrad" is Sindarin for "light the way". Jerrick is not an elf, but I wanted to use a "mystical" language.

Belated congratulations! I have somehow missed this topic earlier.

~Brief Description~

 

Patham is a shapeshifter who is still learning the craft. Although he has the capacity to do other animals and is a quick learner, Patham is most interested in perfecting the form of an owl. Shy but open-minded, he had lost both his parents by the age of seven. He lived with his unassuming uncle until his sense of adventure saw him to the Pen.

 

This cleanshaven young human has dark brown hair, light blue eyes, and wears simple, everyday clothing. His lower back, which usually remains hidden, displays a tattoo of an owl flying toward an oak tree. Honest and highly principled, Patham carries a wooden amulet of his mother's and a small metallic dagger, its a wooden hilt carved by his father. Although he can defend himself, he prefers to avoid fights. He is trusting unless you betray his trust, and is searching for a long-term passion.

 

Disclaimer: This description was written by Katz as part of her quill-quest.

When Vene and Sweetcherrie walked back Patham was sitting in a chair next to where Sweetcherrie had been sitting, one of his feet still shaped like the foot of an owl.

 

"I can't seem to get this fully right...just two minutes ago it was perfectly human, and then abruptly changed back." - he said to Sweetcherrie.

 

He had a half-sad expression on his face.

 

"Would you know of any able shapeshifters able to help me out? I only learnt the basics so far and it seems I have problems with even that."

1) Sweetcherrie

2) tasmanian devil

3) procrastinating

4) Cyril Darkcloud

5) greenish-white

6) boxer shorts

7) motorized unicycle

at the end of the world

9) the Eiffel tower

10) delicious

11) particle accelerators

12) undoing

13) loud-speaker

14) beer

15) Margaret Thatcher

16) pink straw hat

17) book

18) chestnut brown

19) tip of hair

20) house

A small, only fifteen centimeter high owl flutters around the almost-dragons head and then tries landing next to Sweetcherrie, but messes up his landing and hits the newly arrived tea cup and knocks it over, spilling the hot tea over Sweetcherrie's lap.

 

Hooting sounds are heard as the owl tries to excuse itself and then he remembers that people can not understand him while he is in owl form. He jumps down, first to a chair and then to the ground then in a flurry of feathers and then gradually human limbs transforms into a human figure. However one of the hands still ends in feather and it takes about 15 seconds of shaking the hand for it to become the human hand.

 

With a shy smile on his face the shapeshifter turns to Sweetcherrie.

 

"I still need to learn this a bit. Still you must admit that I'm getting better. This morning I still had problems shifting my head back from owl form. You can imagine how ridiculous I looked with a partially human body and an owl head..."

 

He broke into a smile and then a puzzled expression appeared on his face. About a minute later it turned into an expression of relief as he remembered what he wanted to say.

 

"Ah yes, let me introduce myself. I am Patham."

 

He looked around to observe the others, then turned back to Sweetcherrie.

 

"Oh and sorry about the tea."

 

 

OOC: the beginnings of who I hope to make my pen character.

[joke]Sadly, not being able to find Dan the tv crew left him on the island...[/joke]

Johnny and Zak got rid of one of the other contestants the following challenge, by taking the majority of the items he/she had found and then voted off the other remaining contestant.

 

The next day they were going to have a mock final between the two of them, even though the money was going to be split between them anyway.

 

However Johnny's thoughts weren't on the final. They were totally elsewhere....

 

 

He knocked on the cabin's door where Jessica was staying since she had "lost" the challenge. The cameramen had agreed not to follow him this afternoon, seeing as their company had already gotten what it wanted.

 

Jessica opened the door and looked at Johnny curiously.

 

"You aren't allowed to be here."

 

"I know." - he said with half a smile, then held up Jessica's hair dryer. "This was left in the tent, when you left."

 

"Oh, I had been looking for that."

 

"But it isn't the main reason for which I have come."

 

"Oh?"

 

"I have come to apologize."

 

Seeing Johnny's serious expression Jessica invited him into her cabin and in there Johnny told her about the deal the TV people had made with him and Zak. He then told her about how they had manipulated the challenges, and how he himself had manipulated Jessica against his better judgment.

 

"So, basically it is because of me, that you have lost this game. I feel very sad at what I have done, and if I could go back I would change my decision now. But unfortunately it is too late for that."

 

He looked directly in Jessica's furious eyes and asked in an apologetic voice:

 

"Can you forgive me?"

~Magical abilities~

 

Can shift into an owl, due to containing the spirit of a wereowl inside of him.

~History~

 

This version of his history had been posted on a different forum as IC posts, so I kept that format. Italic text are the flashbacks and for easier comprehension I color coded the dialogues. Red is Plaxica, purple is the spirit inside of him, yellow is his childhood friend, blue is the guard captain where he was an apprentice, green is his father, gray is the priest in his hometown, uncolored is the mage

 

 

 

 

Yet he had a long journey to make and it was not going to be eventless...

 

It started a quarter of an hour after he had left the grove. He flew over a willow tree when the first memory hit him.

 

Plaxica looks around and sees all his friends running next to him. He is in front. It is a race to see which one of them reaches the shore first. Running around the big willow tree on the edge of the village, the young Plaxica glanced back around his shoulder to see Gary gaining on him. They passed the tavern, which was the last building of the village and a few dozen meters later Gary came level with Plaxica. Putting on a burst of speed he tried to distance Gary, but the shorter boy managed to keep up. And then about five hundred meters from the shore Plaxica's side started hurting. Coming to a halt and was only able to continue on at a walk. He looked back and saw the others off in the distance. He and Gary had always been the best runners of their age and usually Plaxica managed to beat his best friend. But he was just recently healed from a severe cold, so he did not want to force himself too much. Turning back towards the front he saw Gary ahead, shouting back at him.

 

"Come on Plaxica! You're better than this."

 

Holding his side Plaxica just waved at Gary to go on. Gary looked back and stuck his tongue out playfully then running on disappeared behind the sand dune just next to the shore.

 

That was the last time anyone saw the boy alive. When two days later the boys body was found his own parents could barely recognize him. His young body had been brutally mutilated and beside him a message had been written with his blood into the sand. Plaxica's father who was the mayor of the small village at the time did not let any of the children go near the body and when two of the older boys went to look the body and the message had already been removed. Further excursions to the shore were forbidden and the guard was doubled.

 

Snapping out of the vision Plaxica found that he was standing on a branch of the willow tree he had just flown past in owl form. Why had this event from his past come back? And why now? Gary had been his best childhood friend and had been brutally killed. Plaxica's father never revealed the message, which had been written in the sand that night.

 

"Do you know why I evoked that memory?" - the thought although he knew came from the spirit inside him caught Plaxica totally at the unawares and he nearly fell from the branch he had been holding on to.

 

"I have no idea."

 

"Observe further then." - was all the spirit communicated to him, and before Plaxica had a chance to reply he was plunged into the second memory.

 

It was winter. A winter, which had been especially heavy with lots of snow and temperatures well below freezing point. Not even the elders of the village had ever seen a winter this strong. Yet at the time Plaxica was not in the village. His father had sent him as an apprentice to the town of Algan Falls. Called thus because of the picturesque waterfall of the river Alg half a mile outside the town. Plaxica fourteen years old at the time was the apprentice of the renowned blacksmith and armourer Karan, called the Ironhand in some places. Karan had been a great adventurer in his own time and when he retired he became a blacksmith and getting old he took Plaxica as an apprentice. On the morning of that day Karan had sent Plaxica to gather some firewood around the falls of Alg. The falls were frozen, yet this was not what caught Plaxica's attention the most that morning.

 

Fresh tracks, maybe but a day old. Half a dozen men had crossed the river below the falls and had gone towards the town. Yet neither on the way to the falls, nor in town had Plaxica met any strangers and as far as he knew no one had arrived in the tavern in the last two weeks. And who would be outside in a cold like this? He was only here to gather firewood for the smith since they had ran out of it. He gathered the firewood he needed and then followed the tracks. They entered the town from behind one of the most deserted buildings and then were lost among the multitude of tracks in the main streets of the town. Deciding that if it were something important he would find out about it in due time Plaxica turned and headed towards the smithy.

 

Once he got there he found out. He spotted the smoke already a few streets away, and then he saw the fire when reaching the street where his mentor lived. Filled with horror Plaxica broke into a run and reached the house just as some of the city’s guards did. One of them, who recognized him as the apprentice of the blacksmith, took hold of him, and stopped him from going to the house. Nothing could be done for the burning house or those who were inside it, as any water they tried to bring froze extremely fast. The guard took Plaxica to the tavern, where the owner gave him a room. The fire died of itself the next morning, yet the house was reduced to a pile of charred timber and ashes.

 

Plaxica just sat in his room in the tavern, looking out the window. The captain of the guard came to see him in the middle of the day.

 

”Plaxica there is something I have to tell you.”

 

“They’re dead.” – Plaxica replied gazing fixedly in front of himself. Karan and his beautiful wife, who had been so nice with Plaxica. And their two beautiful girls, Elisa and Elanor. All dead.

 

”Yes, but that is not what I wanted to tell you about. They were dead before the fire started. Karan and his family were all beheaded before the house was torched.”

 

Plaxica’s eyes widened with shock.

 

“But who would have…?”

 

”That’s exactly what we want to find out. I need you to tell me what happened with you and Karan in the last few days.”

 

Then suddenly it all clicked into place in Plaxica’s fourteen-year-old mind. The unknown tracks.

 

"I think I might know something which could help you.”

 

”Yes?”

 

”Yesterday Karan asked me to go and get some firewood near the falls. I saw some strange tracks coming from over the river and following them on the way back saw them enter the town from behind the deserted building on the western outskirts.”

 

As soon as he heard this the guard captain stood up and thanking Plaxica left. Ten minutes later four guards came to Plaxica’s door and mounted guard, unknown to Plaxica at the time. The guard captain along with a dozen men left the town following the tracks. Their dead bodies were found three miles above the falls, where they had followed the tracks. They had fallen in a great battle and many marks of magic were visible around them on the ground. Three hundred feet away the bodies of six strange looking men were found. Their shoes matched the prints found near the falls and some prints found around the house of Karan Ironhand. It was never found out who they were, but most people in the town guessed that Karan had angered someone in his adventuring days, who had sent mercenaries against him and then the mercenaries themselves met their end lest they betray the one, who had sent them.

 

The vision ended as abruptly as it had started. Looking around Plaxica saw from the Sun’s standing that half an hour had passed. And he was on the move again. He panicked for a moment that the spirit had taken him away from his goal, yet looking back he saw that he had come a great distance towards his goal. And this time when the spirit spoke inside his head, his surprise was much less as he had been expecting it.

 

”Do you still not see it?”

 

“You show me the death of my best friend and then that of the man, who took me in for my apprenticeship. What now? The death of my father?” – he asked with a feeling of fear and dread entering his mind.

 

”You guess well…” - was all the spirit said and in a swirl Plaxica was taken in by another vision.

 

The bleakness of winter was gone, yet the location was the same. After the death of Karan, Plaxica had awaited the end of the winter in the town, and then went back to his village for half a year. It took his father that long to find someone else to take him as an apprentice. This time it was an ageing old man Almanius who took care of Plaxica’s education. He was too old and fragile, and his muscles were already weak, so he only took care of Plaxica’s mental education, yet much of the young man’s free time was spent hanging out with other youths from the town. It was thus that he met Ramella. Plaxica was nineteen at the time and Ramella was eighteen. As time went by and they got to pass more and more time together they started liking each other and not long after Ramella’s nineteenth birthday Plaxica took her to the falls of Arg and under the moonlit sky he confessed his love to her. Three weeks later he wrote a letter to his father asking his permission for him to ask Ramella to marry him. The reply came seventeen days later. Plaxica and Ramella went together to the falls of Arg and there Plaxica opened the letter. What struck him first was that the letter was written in his mother’s flowing script and not his father’s barely readable scribblings.

 

Five minutes later the letter fell from Plaxica’s hands. He sat down on a rock and burying his head in his hands he started crying. It took Ramella several minutes to calm him down.

 

”I’m sorry Ramella. I have to go home. My father is dying. You’d better stay here. I promise I shall be back.”

 

”Plaxica! Wait!” - she said as Plaxica jumped up.

 

A brief, but passionate kiss later Plaxica was running back to the town, tears flowing down his cheeks. He reached the stables and without a word to the stable boy, who was one of his friends took his horse and rode off towards his village. Exhausted, he got there after twenty hours of riding, giving his horse only short rests and one longer one, of three hours during the early hours of the day. Jumping off his horse in front of the house and just leaving the poor, also exhausted beast out there, he rushed inside.

 

His older sister and her husband had come and so had his uncle with his family. Plaxica requested to see his father alone. The old man looked to be in really bad shape, and Plaxica could see that he would not live long. He knelt down beside the bed and took the old man’s hand. The weakened eyes opened and the head turned to look at Plaxica. The parched lips formed barely audible words.

 

”My son…You have come…Thank…you.”

 

The voice faded and a tear rolled down the face, due to the effort.

 

”Your…mother told me…about the letter you wrote…I’m glad you came…I wanted to see you once…again before I passed…away.”

 

Through immense effort Padrag, Plaxica’s father lifted a hand and brushed away a tear from his son’s face. A hint of a smile touched his lips and he spoke again.

 

”Plaxica…” - his breath came suddenly with a sharp whistling sound - ”I wish you many happiness with this girl.” - and as he pronounced the last words, his eyes closed, and the once great man died.

 

Plaxica broke out in tears and kneeling next to his father’s bed and sobbed for several minutes.

 

The burial happened three days later. Plaxica, his uncle and two men from the village carried the coffin to the grave. On the gravestone was marked:

 

Padrag Battan lived 59 years, shall be missed by his children and wife

 

After the end of the ceremony the priest called Plaxica over for a talk during the week. Plaxica went to see the priest the night before he was to go back to Algan Falls.

 

”Plaxica there is something I have to tell you.” - the short chubby man announced to him after letting him in to his small house next to the temple.

 

”What is it?”

 

”I am sorry to be the one, who gives you this news, but your father was poisoned by your own mother. A year ago a strange new man arrived in the village. A mage they say. He went to see your mother one day and she never was the same since. I tried to send you a warning earlier, but the two men I sent were intercepted by this man, and they haven’t come to speak to me ever since.”

 

”So you say that my mother was put under a spell by this, mage?”

 

”I fear it is so. You must flee now! Do not go back to Algan Falls! They watch the road and I have heard rumours that this man seeks to kill you. I would give you shelter in the temple, yet not even the temple is safe from him. Two weeks ago someone broke into the temple and stole our holy items, and I fear it was him, or someone working for him.”

 

”I thank you. I shall never forget you for this.”

 

Plaxica turned to leave through the door, but suddenly a knock penetrated the stillness of the room, and a voice came through the wooden door.

 

”I know he is in there. Open up, or I shall be forced to blast the door off of it’s hinges.”

 

The priest motioned the window to Plaxica and without saying a single word the young man nodded his thanks and left the house through the window. He did not make fifty meters, before he heard the death shrieks of the priest. Plaxica broke into a run. He did not stop until he reached the next village fifteen miles away. He did not know whether he was going to be followed, so he only stopped briefly for half an hour for a meal in the tavern and then he continued on.

 

A feeling of profound sadness came over Plaxica. His worst memories, those he would have preferred to forget, all condensed into this small part of a day. Had owls been able to cry, Plaxica was sure that tears would have been flowing now.

 

”It is strange about you humans that such far away events can cause so much sadness. You dwell in the past much too much.”

 

”You can not know what I have been through!”

 

”Can’t I?”

 

Plaxica was drawn into another vision, yet this one was different. He could sense things much better and he felt that he was still in an owl’s body. The owl’s head turned and Plaxica in the vision spotted a man. The mage he had seen once during his father’s funeral. The mage walked over to the cage in which the owl was and in his hand was a small rat. The owl took the rat, and eat it with pleasure. The scene then changed and Plaxica saw several small figures down on the ground, running. The owl circled down and as he did so the figures became clearer. He saw himself as a young boy running along with Gary next to him. He saw Gary go ahead, he saw him go round the dune, and then he saw him meet a man. The man without a single word grabbed Gary and cut his throat, taking care not to spill any blood on the ground. He took the body of the boy in a bag and going around the other side of the dune took it a few hundred feet away, where he mutilated it and then using blood gathered from the body, wrote the following words in the sand.

 

Padrag Battan! Let the death of your son be a warning that you do not mess with us!

 

The image became blurred and slowly faded.

 

Plaxica snapped out of the vision and looked around himself. He had covered a great distance since he had left the druid’s grove yet before he could do anything more another vision literally hit him.

 

He saw again through the eyes of an owl. The owl’s master was just receiving the man, who had killed Gary. And then he killed the mercenary for having failed to get the right kid.

 

The image flashed and a winter landscape came into view. In the distance the town of Algan Falls could be seen. A group of six men crossed over the river and headed towards the town. The owl flew in closer and the six men could be seen making their way through the town, which was deserted due to the cold. One of them went to the back of the blacksmith’s house.

 

Four went to the front door, while the sixth mounted guard outside. They knocked on the front door. Elisa opened the door and with a swing of his sword the foremost of the men cleaved off her head in a single motion. Karan’s wife screamed and started running, yet a throwing axe caught her in the back and knocked her down. She tried scrambling up, but the one of the men, who was rushing in cut her down. Karan went towards the back door and there knocked over the man mounting guard. He scooped Elanor up in his arms and ran towards his smithy at the back of the house. At the entrance he put down Elanor and told her to run. He turned and entered the smithy. Two of the men ran after Elanor and caught up with her before she reached the next house. Her screams weren’t heard by anyone.

 

Karan lasted the longest in the smithy. He wounded one of the men, but eventually he too was killed. The six attackers then gathered together the supply of wood from the smithy and took it into the house. They placed the four bodies next to the fireplace and beheaded those which had still been complete. They then piled the wood around them and lit it and then they left.

 

They left the town the same way they had come, but three miles above the waterfall Plaxica had a perfect view in the vision as they reached the mage. The owl landed next to him and hooted into the mage’s ear. The mage then killed the six men, with a single spell. They too had failed to kill Plaxica. The mage camped in the extreme cold then, aided by a magical fire next to which the owl warmed up.

 

The next day he was just about to set out, when the guard captain and his men arrived. The mage killed them too and then went off.

 

This time the vision did not fade totally and Plaxica only saw a very brief glimpse of the real world around him, before he plunged back into the owl’s memories.

 

The owl flew close to the mage as the mage arrived in Plaxica’s own village. He cast a spell to attract the mother three weeks after arriving and then in front of the owl’s eyes he ordered her to slowly administer a potent poison to the father. If the mage could not find Plaxica he would make Plaxica find him…

 

And then Plaxica saw himself riding at high speeds towards his village. He saw the burial from the owl’s point of view, sitting on top of the temple.

 

Several days flashed by and then a nighttime image could be seen. Plaxica saw himself arriving at the temple through the dark vision of the owl. He saw the attack happen on the priests house and then he saw the owl following him. It followed him for several days and nights, he could see from the images flashing by, up to the point where he enlisted in the service of Lord Nargalad.

 

Then he saw the owl back in its mages cage. The owl was furious. All the reward it had gotten for following Plaxica was two rats. And so he did not give any warning when he heard and smelt a man approaching the mage’s cabin. Plaxica’s uncle forced his way into the cabin and killed the mage. In the struggle the owl cage was knocked down, and the owl managed to escape.

 

The vision did not stop.

 

Forms shifted and melted and the scenery changed to a forest at night. Fast paced movement and snapping branches. A branch hit the owl’s wing hard. A look over the shoulder confirmed the attacker still followed. The owl again tried to fly up through the thick undergrowth, yet the branches and leaves did not give way. Furiously flapping its wings the creature tried distancing the pursuer, yet it could not. The wolf was much faster and it had nearly cornered its prey. A howl pierced the night. The female’s reply came from a few hundred meters back. Plaxica could feel the owl’s fear and felt a heartbeat getting faster. Then he saw the clearing at the end of the undergrowth. The owl put on a burst of speed and reached the clearing a bare two meters ahead of the wolf. A breath of relief as the direction of flight was changed to vertical and then the shock of the collision. The wolf hit the owl with its right paw and sent it flying and crashing to the ground. The owl tried to escape but a paw was put on its body.

 

Struggling against the wolf’s overwhelming force the owl noticed that the wolf’s eyes, were not the eyes of wolves it had seen before. Never had the owl seen such a redness burning the eyes of a living creature. The frightful sight stopped the owls struggling as it awaited the inevitable end. The wolf lowered its fanged mouth and bit deep into the owl’s back, then suddenly withdrew its fangs as it heard the call of its mate. As the owl faded into unconsciousness it caught glimpses of the two wolves running towards the other side of the clearing where a deer could be seen fleeing the predators.

 

Consciousness was regained during daylight. The owl could not feel any wound on its back. It tried standing on its legs, which it expected to be weak, but the legs held it without any problems. Wings which had been broken by the assault of the wolf worked without problems. Actually the owl could not feel any injuries. It flew off into the daylight and with that the vision faded, and reality intruded on Plaxica again.

 

Reality intruded and Plaxica could feel that he was getting closer and closer to the place where the dragon had fallen. The spirit while showing him these visions had brought him a long way towards his destination. Plaxica was just about to address the spirit when without another warning he was plunged into another vision.

 

He saw through the eyes, through which he had seen the destruction of his best friend, his mentor and his father again. And he saw himself. He was in the finery of one of Lord Nargalad’s mercenaries. Him and other mercenaries were celebrating the lord’s marriage anniversary at a table under some trees. Plaxica recognized the setting. That feast had happened two weeks before the owl bit him.

 

The scene shifted to the night of the patrol, when the fateful bite had happened. Plaxica saw himself and his seven companions moving among the forest. They had been alerted to the presence of poachers in the forest and were hot on the trail. Then the owl’s vision became blurred and an incredibly strong feeling of anger could be felt in the vision. It was as if the owl had lost its mind. Recognizing the one it had seen so many times earlier it flew in as if it had been attracted by some invisible force and with it’s beak it cut a shallow wound in the shoulder of Plaxica. Yet as soon as the beak had touched the shoulder the vision stopped and Plaxica saw the rest of what happened with his own eyes.

 

He turned his head and saw the owl moving away fast. One of his companions let go an arrow, but it missed the owl. Then they all shrugged off the event as some freak occurrence. Two days later Plaxica found out that he had been infected by the owl. And it was not long before one of his companions also found out. The others started fearing him and one night tried to kill him. Yet he had been expecting the attack and fled joining a ship which left on an adventure.

 

The vision ended and a strange silence in Plaxica’s mind let him know that the visions for now had ended. Emotions overcame him and he landed and shifted to human form. A tear left his right eye and was then followed by many more from both of his eyes.

~Brief Description~

 

Plaxica had once been a human, but got bitten by an owl infected with lycantrophy and is now a wereowl.

Happy Birthday to both of you!

Johnny stared in desbelief at what remained of his carefully set up camp. He started looking all around while thinking of who could have done this. He knew it was none of the still remaining contestants as they had been with him all along. He found a pair of his shorts stuck on the top of a bush and under the bush he found a small greenish centipede. Remembering that it had been on the list he pocketed it in his shirt pocket.

 

An hour later when he got back to his campsite he had recovered all of his items and had a centipeded, 3 extra socks, 4 coins, some brownish, rotten looking seaweed, a coconut and a large-ish leaf.

 

 

OOC: coconut is my addition to the list.

Sitting next to Brianna, Johnny stared ahead of him. He did not say a single word, and it was probably being fed up with this, that Brianna had walked off. He lifted his head up and the camera was just pointed at him at the right time to record the sad expression on his face.

 

Suddenly he stood up and started walking away from the group. The cameraman sensing that he would be able to make quite a few good shots of Johnny followed him. Johnny returned to the tent he had fashioned, which had been emptied of everything which had belonged to Jessica. But her smell still lingered in the confined space of the tent, and as Johnny left the tent he could still feel the memory of it.

 

He walked among the trees on the island, until about fifteen minutes later he reached a beach about a mile away from where all the others were. The cameraman had been filming his every move. Johnny walked to the waterfront and bending down picked up several small pebbles. He then sat down on a large rock, with his feet in the water.

 

He sat silently for several minutes, then stood up and one by one hurled the pebbles into the ocean. Each dissappeared under the waves, making only the slightest sound.

 

She's gone - he thought to himself.

 

He turned back and walked towards the cameraman. Getting near enough he mouthed an obscenity at the poor man, who'se only crime had been of betting on how far Jessica would make it. The obscenity of course was not aired later.

 

Johnny returned to his tent and started rummaging in his pack. He finally found what he had been looking for, a small flask of whiskey and taking the cap off he took a deep swig. As he was about to put the flask back he noticed that Jessica's hairdryer was still in his pack.

 

He put the flask back and went back to the remaining competitors, sitting down next to Jack.

 

Jack belched. It was is if the tension in Johnny was released and suddenly he started laughing, quiet at first but gradually louder. When he managed to regain control over himself he turned to Jack and put a hand on his shoulder.

 

"Remind me to give you some whiskey the next time you're near my tent."

Johnny started piling everything out of his bag, and then took out one of the last items, which was a large piece of canvas. While Jessica watched, as if she were seeing someone fixing a canvas to three trees for the first time in her life, Johnny rigged up a rudimentary protection against the rain, by fixing the canvas at a height of about three feet to the trees. Seeing that the canvas wasn't tight enough he pulled on one of the ropes and fixed it tighter.

 

He then took out three smaller sheets of canvas, from the bottom of his bag and fixed them as sides for the triangular shelter. He took out twelve small metal pegs from a sidepocket of his backpack and fixed the side flaps to the ground, then using the dangling pieces of rope he fixed them to each other.

 

"Exactly what I had brought them for. They are even waterproof, at least that is what the man, who had sold them to me, told me." - he declared to Jessica, who looked in half-awe at what Johnny had achieved.

 

"I hadn't thought of bringing that..." - she declared.

 

"It is perfect for one person, although for two it might be slightly small. We'll have to draw closer to each other during the nights to fit in. I hope you don't mind."

 

Johnny then indicated a small, sealable flap at one of the sides of the rudimentary tent to Jessica.

 

"There you go, you can put your stuff in if you wish."

Johnny admired the "view" for several seconds before Jessica led him away from Pansy. Fifteen meters later, he remembered his backpack.

 

"Err...I forgot my backpack back there..."

 

He slipped out of Jessica's "clutches" and walked back for his pack. He slung it on his back, winked at the cameraman nearby and walked back to where Jessica was impatiently waiting for him.

 

"Do you want me to build seperate shelters, or one bigger one for the two of us?"

Johnny smiled at Jessica's energetic reaction and then turned to Pansy.

 

"Quite a reaction don't you think?" - he said with a broad smile on his face.

 

He then took his pack off his shoulder and readjusted the straps. Some of the things Jessica had put in there were of an awkward shape. He opened the pack and slightly rearranged the things so that nothing pressed against his back. He took out a hairdryer and noticed it was electric, although it could run on batteries for some time.

 

Again speaking to Pansy he added:

 

"Do you really think she shall need this?"

Seeing Jessica being in slight trouble due to her overweight bags Johnny walked over to her, while shaking his head from side to side towards Zak, rejecting the offer for the beer.

 

"You having problems?" - he asked with a smile, full well knowing the answer.

 

"Yes." - Jessica replied and looked at Johnny as if he could help her.

 

Johnny's bag had already been weighed and it turned out that he had space for twelve more pouns. One thing he had always been good at was packing only the essentials.

 

She looks quite pretty - he thought to himself.

 

"I might have a bit of room in my bag." - he said and offered his bag to Jessica so she could put some of her stuff in it if she wanted to.

 

Definately pretty.

Patrick sat looking at the remaining players of the round and then turned towards Tzimfemme.

 

"Bring me a scotch!"

 

Being served about twenty seconds later he nodded his thanks to her and turned back to the others at the table, watching how they all played. Apart from himself and Wyvern everyone was still in the game. Patrick had decided to use the practice round to observe how his opponent's played so as to be able to use the information to his advantage later.

After receiving his the tv company's letter Johnny stayed up late at night. He fell asleep with his father's will in his hands. It was the only reason for which he had decided to take part in this survival show.

 

"...for my son, Johnny I leave 75% of my companies shares and my whole fortune, with one condition. He has to be able to prove during the year following my death that he can earn at least 25.000 dollars..."

 

In the morning he woke up and quickly packed. He took the train into town, as he did not want to leave his sports car outside the TV station offices for the whole duration of the show.

Patrick walks into the Temple of Shards and sits at the place designated for him without being very surprised at suddenly wearing cowboy clothing. He did look for a few seconds at the two colts in holsters in his belt, but then looked up at YanYan while he explained the rules. He seemed to not be paying much attention to the explanation, but in reality he was eager to learn the subtleties of the game. When YanYan finished he took a single look at his cards, memorised them and turned towards Sweetcherrie and Wyvern, one of whom he thought was supposed to make the first move.

Johnny walked into the interview room quite confidently. Having looked at all the other applicants he felt that his chances were not good, but even better. He had just given his application form in and had almost immediately been called for the interview.

 

"So Mr. Straw is that right?"

 

"Yes."

 

"On your application form it says that your father has recently deceased. I seemed to have heard that he was a very rich man."

 

"I have not seen a single cent of his fortune." - Johnny added quickly, almost too quickly, but the answer seemed to satisfy the interviewer, a tall, slightly overweight man, looking to be in his forties.

 

"So what were you looking for when you applied for..."

 

The interview went on for ten more minutes, with the question mostly being about Johnny's personal viewpoints, and different ways in which he would react to different situations.

 

"Ok, Mr. Straw. I would like to ask you to proceed to the obstacle course within the course of the afternoon."

 

Johnny left the interview room and made his way to the building's cafeteria. He wanted to gather his energy before going to the obstacle course.

 

At the cafeteria he looked around to see whether he could spot any attractive female applicants he would like to meet on the island if he was going to be there.