Jump to content

Wolfhound

Former Member
  • Posts

    76
  • Joined

Everything posted by Wolfhound

  1. I logged in this morning to repair my generator and I couldn't because all of the materials were missing out of my base. Every scrap of metal, wood, hide, fiber, oil, chitin, cementing paste, spark powder, gasoline, oil, etc. along with every bit of food and narcotic as well as the crafting station and wall cabinets I made at the blacksmith's table were all gone. On the plus side, the generator won't need to be repaired as much since it's not running with no gasoline. Not sure if I was the only one affected or not, I need to go to work, so I just thought I would post this in case anyone else finds something similar has happened to them.
  2. I don't know why I'm writing this. I've never been the journal type. Never been the feelings type. But I've realized that there are things I can't say now that need to be known if something should happen to me. Some of the others don't seem to remember any details of their life before the island. Like an amnesiac, they retain any skills they had before, their personality, the core of who they are, but they don't know the details. Tallon in particular has said as much. The others have largely been silent on the matter, so it's either the same for them or, like me, they haven't bothered to tell her or anyone else that they're different. I remember my life before the island. I remember everything up until being awoken in the middle of the night by a light and a noise. From there to the island is just as fuzzy for me as Tallon's sweet sixteen is for her. Not that I left behind a glorious life. My life after leaving MARSOC wasn't exactly pleasant. According to my ex-wife, neither was I. And I suppose she was right. I was a man with no purpose and far too much misery to be anything but bitter and petty, lashing out at everyone else because they hadn't given up so much of their life for the military and nothing they had done was as important as everything I'd done. I was a real asshole, and I'm sorry for it. None of that matters on the island. All that matters is that I have a purpose again. I'm going to keep these people alive and we're going to find a way off the island. Don't get me wrong, they're all quite capable people and they're all learning new survival skills every day; but I doubt any of them have my expertise. Or my experience with taking the life of a fellow human when necessary. I'd long suspected that there were other people on the island. We'd explored quite a bit of it, but it's a big place with lots of ground cover and a tendency to eliminate those who make themselves easy targets for the many predators. I just never thought that one of those predators would be in our very midst all along. After the storm, all of the members of our "tribe" showed up one at a time, with a few exceptions. When Kuro showed up, he kept his helmet on and insisted that his name was Ronin. I'd always liked Kuro, but his strange behavior set off alarm bells in my head. The others could believe him if they wanted, but I knew who he was and I knew that something was wrong. I was out flying on Rotbeak one day when I saw "Ronin" riding around on his T-Rex. Standing on the ground in front of him, was a woman I didn't recognize. I couldn't hear what was being said, but I could hear what seemed to be a reassuring tone in his voice; he was probably telling her not to be scared of the massive dinosaur he was riding. I saw the tension leave her body right before the T-Rex lunged forward, delivering a dozen fatal wounds across her chest and back with one bite. As I closed the distance, wondering what she had done to provoke him, I saw him slide down the T-Rex's tail and approached the now lifeless body. Then he pulled out a knife and began skinning it, as if she were any other piece of game he killed while hunting. I was horrified that anyone would do this, much less someone I had called a friend. Whatever had happened to him during the storm had changed him more than I ever thought. I sent Rotbeak into a dive as I readied my bow and a tranquilizer arrow. "Ronin" (for I truly couldn't think of him as Kuro any longer) wore heavy armor, but his T-Rex probably wouldn't attack me if he never got the chance to give it an order to do so. I was going to have to time this perfectly. As I approached the optimum range, I pulled the cord on the parachute I was wearing, ripping me off of Rotbeak's back as she began pulling up and circling around. I slowly descended toward "Ronin," who was still intent on his grisly task. As I approached the range where I felt I could put the arrow where it needed to go, I knocked the arrow and pulled it back till it touched my cheekbone ever so lightly. I held it there, waiting for just the opening, gliding ever closer while "Ronin" obliviously completed his task. It wasn't until he looked up, directly at me, that I saw the rim of his helmet move aside enough to expose the skin around his collar bone. I loosed the arrow, and the savage bastard fell to the ground. Later, up on a high cliff, his armor removed, hands and ankles tied, I waited for him to wake up. As he began to stir, I asked him why he'd attacked the woman. He asked which woman. I told him the one he'd killed. He asked which woman that he'd killed. That was when I realized that he was the reason we hadn't found more survivors on the island. In fact, out of all the people in our little "tribe," none of them had been found by him despite the fact that he was the one who explored the furthest from our base of operations. He'd killed everyone he found. A rope is a very useful thing. And it's not hard to make if you've got access to plant fibers. It only took a few feet of the stuff to hang a man and make sure his neck snapped, but I used thirty feet to give the bastard a bit of time to think on his way down.

Members and Assistants of the Month

ESO MotM / AotM: Nightsiderush  / CirceNova

GW2 AotM: mistahzed

SWTOR MotM: TBD

WoW MotM: Serey

RoH.jpg

FUK_BqFWAAIvpYd.jpg

×
×
  • Create New...