A checkpoint town made around one of the sparse oases along the dunes. A hot day that would have you think autumn was still distant. At least for the near turn-of-the-hour, the sun was receding like a hesitant mole deciding to wait out what was coming. Baird had to think about what to do next, as his stay was also nearing an end. 

    "Mmmm, look at you! Please, over here." The beastman turned to the far end of the counter, on the same side. A strong-looking figure wrapped head-to-toe in linens. Their face was obscured by an alabaster bird mask. They seemingly came from a doorway leading to the rooms in the back. Carefully placing a large bag on the bar, they continued, "You can speak, can't you, big fella? Well, either way, I insist that you come and play!"
    
    Baird had no mind for such games. Truly he has hardly been very cerebral... Yet. What an interesting looking game! The gamemaster pulled from a rucksack a set of brass scales, an intricately branded leather rollout that acted as the board, and a deck of cards. Setting all of this up on a table nearby, they beckoned for Baird to approach. This stranger did little to appeal, but the game was-- enthralling.

    Lifting from his chair, stepping plainly to a seat at the table, sitting across patiently to hear what was next. It didn't strike Baird as odd that suddenly they were the only two in the room. The stranger deftly handled the deck, the cards emitting pleasing sounds. Their neck craned forward as they cooed, "Look at the lovely inscriptions. I call this game: Callous Feast. To start, all I need from you is to pull a card, any card, from this deck." Holding the cards facing down, splayed enticingly to the gigantic guest, a hungering hand reaches out. Taking the card, sliding it out, and turning it...

    Now only the gamemaster was in the room. "Swine, my favorite meat! Now we wait for a player to arrive."

    Baird looked around, and all he saw was complex, untamed nature. Haunting noises of frenzied things bellowed from the dark.

A trip to the Zeinav Desert was one of Nieven’s favorite things to do, the sights, the food, and the oases were always delightful. On his solars and reputation anything he wanted he could have, a man such as he demanded only the finest things. However, no matter how powerful and great he thought he was, one thing still hexed him and that was the blaring light of the sun.

He glared at the nuisance squinting his eyes as he pulled his sunhat down to shield his beautiful face. Even with the new season rolling in it didn’t make the usual humid weather any better. His hair was frizzing up and he was generally quite irritated at the state of his day. The sylvan elf had arrived at a small quaint town called Agnires only meaning to stay for the night before continuing his journey to the Oasis Resort.

Nieven stood outside of the closest inn not seeing any sign or name of this establishment but figuring it must be some sort of run-down older building he thought nothing of it. Pushing the door’s heavy doors he hears a loud and slow moan of the door as it creaks open. Not the best impression certainly but what perturbs him further is that instead of a hostess or innkeeper welcoming him inside he finds just two people in front of him. Some sort of large grem fellow and a creepy robed figure talking amongst themselves.

Not one to just judge a book by its cover, ever the so humble and wise person Nieven calls out, “Um, why hello there is this the check in area of the inn? Where may I place my bags? They are quite expensive and heavy. Oh also I was wondering do you guys do three course dinners or two course dinners because I am quite starved at the moment”.

---

SPOILER: Click to show

Quest Name: Hunted
Participants: Two or more
Location: Anywhere
Post Requirements: 5 posts per person, 200 words per post
Reward: +1 Mystical Archive Ticket, +1 Mysterious Reward
Description: You find yourself as the main character in a Black Harvest story! Write out a spooky or scary story where you find yourself hunted, stalked or followed by a scary, creepy or frightening threat. The location, villains, and details of the story are completely up to you, as long as this year's theme is obvious and consistent throughout the topic.

    If the very aura of the masked figure could exude expression, a duplicitous glee would sink through to Nieven's bones. Juxtaposed to that, Baird was clearly a blank slate, staring into a single card between his fingers. Gently, the gamemaster waved his hand to tend to the luggage with telekinesis, floating them toward the fabric shrouded doorway to the back. With a voice like cider, sweet yet stringent, "Welcome! Not a problem, my guest, welcome. Your things shall be taken care of and I will get you a room, of course. Fear not, there is going to be a bountiful meal here just shortly! I am merely.. preparing the dish."

    Convincing, but illusory, sounds would echo from nowhere in particular of kitchen atmosphere just out of sight. Knives can be heard being honed, flame sputtering from beneath an oven, boiling stock being stirred. Very faintly, in the miniscule gaps when the noise of cooking would be low, a cacophony of feral beasts are distantly calling. "But that will be in due time. While you are here, waiting, how about a game? One of my own making. This man, here, only just got started! All I need you to do is take a seat" Baird then would move to another chair sharing a corner with the gamemaster. His movements are like a golem, while he still held the card out in front of him. Now the space opposite of the strange host was unoccupied.

    The last words it spoke were magical as well. With any sort of defense, someone would be made aware that this being is trying to beguile and control its subjects. Something that Baird has befallen, hook-line-and-sinker.

Well, the current vibes of this raggedy hotel couldn’t get any worse. The manager of this place was very raggedy, not even showing their face. How rude, any well-mannered host was to introduce their adobe to their guest with a smile. Nieven paid little attention to the creepy aura surrounding the stranger being the naive and self-centered individual he was more focused on laying his head for the night.

“Alright, thank you. I appreciate it very much now. Do I just leave my bags and the servants will come and get them or how does this go? I will say there are very expensive items and clothing in there so be very careful I don’t want any grime or dirt to get in them”.

His mood lightened up as the strange weird host confirmed that indeed a most bountiful meal would be prepared for him. Now that was the treatment someone of his grandeur was expecting, “Yes quite good I can even smell the kitchen from here. Delightful I will say I’m not particularly a fan of pie dishes at the moment, I just came off an encounter with a ravenous bread monster and I may say not particularly ready to see pie again for now”.

He walked over to where the grem fellow was seated eyeing the strange game he was playing, “Sure I’d be fine with it, something to at least pass the time while you fellows get my room ready”.

Nieven sat down across from Baird waving at the grem greeting him warmly, “Why hello there good fellow, how long have you been waiting here? My name is Nieven Castiel Oakenthorn, the pleasure is all yours I’m sure. What’s your name? How do we play this little game that’s going on here?”.

    Meanwhile to all the introduction, Baird is truthfully cast into the darkness. He can see clearly up to 15 feet around himself. A nebulous night wisps shapes of terrible things from any sightline further. The rocks are all unstable and threaten to crash down at any attempt to climb. The moment he grips a branch to climb a tree instead, it shifts in his hand into a snake of vile temperament. Every path he treks to get around only leads to more forks leading to shadowed howling. Whenever he lingers for too long, a single vermin shows up to nip at him. Then another, and another. A clock of rats or mosquitos ticks upward until he moves again. He can slowly feel his vigor and sanity draining as moments pass, if nothing else because of the fruitlessness he feels in every action.

    Back within a particular structure at the edge of a disturbingly quiet desert town, a bewitching pair of eyes squint in delight at how easy their meals waltz to its tune. "Wonderful, let me show you!" A hand of long, gaunt fingers plants a deck of occult cards with aplomb onto the center of the leather board. In the moment it lingers, the fabric shrouding it slightly unravels. A pale blue light shines from beneath. "Swinburne here already has his card drawn, you see. All you have to do is draw a hand of five. You each play your card and see which becomes the predator, the other, prey. The land versus the lone traveler! The objective: simply wear him down in chase. Beware: he may act unpredictably. You must whittle him down slowly, deliciously, if you wish to win. You draw one when he flees from the fight, his card grows in proportion to whatever he slays of yours." The thing erupted in a dry cackle. Thinking all is going so smoothly, it sweeps a hand between Baird and Nieven as it continues much more fierce than before, "You lose if either of you run out of cards on your field at the end of your turn. The winner becomes mine for a little longer, the loser will be taken from where they sit! You, pig, place your card." 
    
    Baird, or at least his body, thoughtlessly drops the card in front of him onto an empty space of the board. From its face is a writhing miasma of ink. The art is a shifting image of where Baird sees himself, from the perspective of something stalking him from out of sight. Numbers phase in and out ranging from 2 to 7 at each corner, one adorned with claw marks while the other is a beating heart.

“Ahem”, Nieven clears his throat waving his hand in front of Baird, “Hello, hello is anyone in there? Why did this fellow in front of me fall asleep already? Gosh if he’s been waiting longer than I have for my room I’m not even surprised. Poor soul, I can only imagine how bad room service is if this man here is slumbering while playing this game. Well, no matter I suppose these things happen, let us see what this game you speak of has to offer”, he would say not paying any mind to Baird or the strangeness of the entire situation more interested in this card game.

“Oh how quaint”, the sylvan elf would exclaim seeing the hands appear in front of him from the host’s voice. What this raggedy inn lacked in appearance it made up for it in style and entertainment.

“Hmm, I see well that seems easy enough, I draw”, Nieven would yell reaching over to the top of the deck and drawing five cards. Placing them in front of him he cautiously would analyze what he pulled. A 6, a 2, a 5, a 7, and the last card is stranger than the rest. It was a cerulean-colored card with claw marks surrounding the edges a large pair of fangs would take the center. Oh, this must be that predator card that the host spoke of. Yes, this was perfect, Nieven would be in the lead if he played this card. Though the thought did flash in his mind, what would happen if this sleeping grem fellow also had a predator card? Would they cancel out?

It didn’t matter Nieven was going to win no matter what, “Alright! I place down the predator card for my turn”, slamming his card down onto the table excessively, in front of Baird’s card waiting in anticipation.

    As Nieven's card touches the board, the undulating pigment of Baird's card lifts into a murky, black fog over the table. The spilling ebony dissipates as it rolls down from the edges. As more of the dark fills between the three onlookers, the strands of shadow begin to grow color from the depths beneath. Soon the fog opens, the clear view of Baird's mind is immaculately represented, as if a miniaturized arena formed within a ring of gloom. All that was described before becomes visible to Nieven: the rampant wilderness, the stunted view, the distant cries of unknown animals, and a tiny Baird panicking in the center.

    The gamemaster's mask opens slightly at the beak, soft light pouring from its mouth. They speak again, "Right to the fun, yes! Beginning the game with the meat and potatoes!" Their wraps further loosen as the small figment of Baird flinches at the sound of the creature's voice.

    Nieven's card surfaces from the edge of the fog as though it were floating in water. It burned away in a heap of sparks. In response, a miniature Nieven has appeared in the arena. Without the gamemaster's charms having an effect on him, however, it didn't go as they schemed.

Nieven’s eyes widened in shock and confusion as a deep tenebrous fog spilled all over the playing table. It spread from the table and began to surround the entire room filling the sylvan elf’s eyes with darkness. Panic shot up through his chest as he realized that this situation may not have been the normal evening game of cards he was expecting.

He calls out angrily, “Agh, what have you done you malignant deceiving bastard, you have tricked me. What is the meaning of all this?”, but before he can complain any further the dark fog opens playing back a strange picture, a similar one to the game that was on their board only a few seconds ago.

Stumbling back in shock, all his wild and confused eyes see is this strange-looking forest with the sounds of wailing in the distance. This wasn’t funny, this wasn’t entertainment, this was simply terrible.

Returning once more the host’s voice echoes, speaking of continuing this game, “What are you talking about? How can I be expected to play in such conditions? I can barely even see and I'm beginning to doubt your abilities as a host. Wait a second, is that me?”, suddenly the previous uncomfortable feeling is washed away by joy and self-centeredness.

“Oh my god, truly this is the best inn I’ve ever seen before. This is wonderful. I take everything I said back. I mean god you got even the little details right, the way my eyes lit up a room, my brilliant smile, it captures my essence incredibly well. Let me say I might have to take this idea from you and sell it on my own, gosh I can only imagine how popular Nieven figures would be”.

But before the Sylvan elf can continue blabbing on, a strange sleepiness overcomes home as he hits the floor completely entrenched by the strange dark fog. Much like Baird in front of him, he is taken to the eerie haunting forest waking up in a strange daze.

    As the weight of what is happening begins to sink into Nieven, the gamemaster grimly chuckles in rapturous cruelty. Lights and crackling energy dance over their form, haloed in the cacophonous dark. Then it all comes crashing away. The sheer incredulous vanity of the elf! All the terror is torn like a cake from the hands of a bratty child. The horrid host then waves his arm in great dissatisfaction, sending the mind of his derailing guest into his plane of nightmares.

    Baird witnessed a large pool of birds emerging from a spot on the ground. They scattered in an ocean of squawks and caws, revealing a, quite frankly, gorgeous man who stood unblinking. The beastman, though stunned for a moment, tried to get the elf's attention to no avail. Yet just as he might have walked away out of fear of some trick, the earth-born man groaned slightly, his eyelids waving. Just as he would crumple onto the ground, Baird rushed over and caught him in the nick of time.

    Soft tremors started to cascade along the soil. Something big, at least as big as Baird, was prowling unsubtly from the distance. The plodding rhythm betrayed that it was in no rush, but it was always moving closer. The boar's face creased with worry.

    Looking down at the man, Baird gently urged, "Hey-hey! You alright?"

Feeling the darkness envelop his senses, Nieven struggles to stand up straight feeling very overwhelmed by this whole thing. He hears the faint echoes of the host’s revoluting laughter feeling his heart with indignation and rage. The sylvan elf had been tricked by this shadowy gamemaster and he was going to rue the day he messed with Nieven Castiel Oakenthorn. However for now he was confused and all over the place standing still as he tried to get his bearings in his new sight. A large flock of ravens signaled his arrival to this new plane of existence, the brilliant sounds of cawing brought Nieven back to his feet. As he lay his blurry eyes onto his new surroundings he spotted the same grem fellow that was in front of him before.

So this was the gamemaster’s plan all along, he’d done the same thing to this poor soul here too. Tricking nearby travelers into playing a deadly game that would entrap their very essences into his realm. Although Nieven’s mind was working decently for some reason his body felt disconnected and sluggish. He tried to give the friendly man a wave but his body didn’t listen to him, desperate to communicate with the other prisoner of this madness he tried to yell at the top of his lungs only for a tired groan to come out from his mouth. He fell and was about to hit the floor with a thud before thankfully being caught by Baird.

Nieven coughed still trying to adjust to this new ‘game’, for some reason his body was just almost disconnected from his mind. However, after moving his head around for a few moments he managed to sputter out, “I think so? I don’t know, I'm kind of shaken, where are we? How are you? Why does my head ache so much? Oh my god what is that sound?”.

    All of the other sounds, the howling and the snarls, they began to fade. The shadows began to still. The intermittently shaking earth was all that remained.

Dun.... Dun.... Dun... Dun....

The absence of all other noise rested an almost-silence so discomforting that this exact moment would scar Baird's mind forever. He would not wait to see what happens now, opting to flee with the stranger in his arms. Running into the deeply shaded paths, the sounds of frenzied beasts once again came back as the stomps became more distant. The terror was pervasive.

    Once they reached a new clearing, there resided something already. A giant snail the size of a dog. It had eyes of emerald fire and splotches of feathers growing over its body. It lethargically became aware of the new arrivals. Slowly, it would approach. The tremors steadily became more apparent. Baird once again fled. He ran passed, nearly slipping on the mud, through another opening.

    "I-I-I don't know, I'm sorry!" the boar spoke, as if suddenly remembering being questioned.

Continuing on led to a grassy pond harboring a large otter with the same malediction as the snail. It looked up and met the eyes of the intruders, then darted towards them. The flames simmered the water as it charged through. Baird, once again, fled. The chirps and barks of the beast kept pace from behind.

    It was at this next ominous place that the victims of this wicked game found a wolf of unknown breed. The same eyes that furiously burned, the same feathers that smattered its coat. It responded to the pair that appeared with vehement growls. During the standoff that proceeded, the otter came up onto Baird's back and bit into his shoulder. His cry was startling. With a gentle hurry, he placed Nieven onto the ground as he reached over and grabbed the creature at his back. With a furious toss into the darkness, a heavy smack could be heard. It did not emerge again.

    Seemingly as a response to this, sensation came back to the elf. Such are the rules. Alongside that, the wolf circled about before lunging forward.

Nieven is then sucked back into the state of confusion and sleepiness, it was strange, almost like he was experiencing some sort of dream. It was surely a nightmare at this point but no matter how much he wanted to wake up and just scream he couldn’t. All he could count on was this fellow being capable enough of protecting him until he woke up. With each turn and sprint around they faced brand new terrifying creatures. It resembled something out of a spooky legend his butler would tell him to discourage him from leaving the estate at night.

Just as he thinks they made it to a good place to rest he sees the grem getting bitten in the back. Powerless to do anything, Nieven gets gently placed on the floor still in his dreamlike state. However, something strange happened as the otter landed in the darkness with a loud thought. Nieven suddenly gained control of his body. He jumped back to his feet and let out a very loud and obnoxious cackle of victory, “Ahahahaha you don’t know how badly you messed up Gamemaster by letting me awake. Now then my friend stand back. I got this, you took care of that otter let me show this wolf my strength”.

Pointing his index finger squarely at the wolf in front of him, Nieven sends out a powerful blast of sharp wind (1) that sends cuts and slices all over the beast’s body. The once terrifying wolf yelps in pain and hurries into the darkness escaping sight.

Nieven cups his hands and calls out, “Ta ta now wolfie. Yes that’s right you better run you absolute disgrace. Now then where were we? What’s your name and why is there a snail slowly making its way over here?”.

---

1. Wind Cutter

    The wicked animals routed, the tide of the game shifts. Baird feels his own strength being refreshed. The tiring sprint and sensation of fending for himself dissipates the further the wolf's pattering paws retreat into the black fog. Nieven restored, his shining audacity immediately felt like a sunbeam piercing the long-night's smothering canopy. Baird was awash with a sense of reassurance at seeing the elf twirl the winds of this realm. The weight of everything was lifted greatly.

    The words spoken had their chance to sink in. Baird looked to the snail in hot pursuit. A vague shape of it slowly eking closer with the much more prominent green flames of its eyes listlessly wandering the air. It has just about crossed the pond area previous. This might be the best moment to finally get the introductions through.

    Baird looked to the elf, basking in this respite against the dour situation, and spoke with a rebuilding confidence, "Ah.. yes, right! I am Baird. Excuse me for earlier. I feel like I have been stuck in this damnable place for hours. I don't know what that weasel-bird-bastard plans, but surely we can get out of here together." He raised a hand in an open gesture, "Please, let me know the name of my hero."

    It felt as though they were being watched, not just by the menacing mollusk. Once words had been exchanged, the echoes of a dark chuckle started to rise out of the noising beasts in the distance. The footfalls of the massive stalker were returning. The snail kept its hunt. With a flash of brutality, a huge beak reflected the light of the snail's flame as it grabbed its shell, pulling it into the veiled thicket. As the sound of animals faded at the monster's approach, they were replaced by a slew of chomping and tearing.

The sylvan gave a warm and friendly grin, “Wonderful it’s nice to make your acquaintance Baird, and do not worry whatsoever it’s completely understandable given our morose situation. How long have you been here if you are able to remember? From what I saw from the normal world you seemed completely lethargic and desolate just hunched back sitting there. That dastardly insipid coward even managed to trick my brilliant and genius mind with their underhanded tricks. Now here I was thinking oh I’m so humble and nice for giving this decrepit ugly-looking inn a chance. Well, that’s what I get for trying to be generous. I'll be more careful in the future about that I suppose. Baird my friend once we get out I promise you I’ll take you on a fancy trip to an oasis resort to make up for this awful experience as well as assisting me here”.

“As for me, introductions can never do my radiance justice, my name is Nieven Castiel Oakenthorn. I’m sure you have heard of me before and on the off chance you haven’t, I’m sure you’ll never forget it. I am the brilliant President of the Sycamore Corporation, Master of Whirlwinds, Exile of the Emerald Bloodline, Dragon Prince of Pride, and Solaris’s greatest gift to humanity, I can keep going on and on but for the sake of time, I shall leave my accolades and accomplishments there”.

Placing his hand forward for a handshake the elf would look back as the snail crept closer and closer at a very slow but steadily looming pace.

Nervous laughter would escape his lips, “Ehehehe, well it appears our battle is not over yet my friend. Have any ideas for how to escape these monster fellows?”.

    His haughty attitude, his overbearing audacity. The whiplash of being so brusque talking about the inn like it had anything to do with their situation, yet so inviting toward a burly boar-man he doesn't know. The boisterous, beautiful specimen set before Baird. Never in his life did the clumsy giant think he'd be so overjoyed to see such a lack of humility.

    The boar took Nieven's hand within two of his own and shook as gently as he could muster. "Nieven Oakenthorn! I can't say how long I've been kidnapped, but indeed I've been alone here for long enough, I assure. Your circles would see me as a savage for my way of life, in it I must apologize that I haven't heard your name until now. Indeed it will ring like music in my mind if we manage to escape here." 
    
    The dark in every direction seemed to recede just a bit. The false-sky overhead rippled as if in pain as they made contact. It is here that Baird would notice the snail being missing, taken just as Nieven turned to address Baird about it. The subsequent sounds of violent consumption brought back the terror in the boar's heart. The dark would close back in as his palms would clam at the horrible realm around them.

    First were the thuds of crushed stones, then the beats of wings like a roc before the sharp rustling from above the warped trees. It moved with such force and speed that the air made a breeze to act as harbinger to the stalker's approach. Without hesitation, a void-like shape whipped down like an arrow on a string, returning to the tenebrous above just as quick. It was huge and pointed, leaving an audible pit into the ground just beside the two. The second strike wasn't so off the mark, clipping a long slash down Baird's shoulder as it just grazed him. The pain would shoot his hands off of the elf's to instead hold the blood-splashing slash.

    Baird recoiled about in shock, doing his best to avoid remarkably accurate stabs. The next was unknowingly poised to poke at Nieven. It seems that this monster, too, was full of gall. Too much. It would prove too great of a mistake by the gamemaster to allow the two to unite.