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Colostle: The Adventures of October O'Leary
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<blockquote data-quote="Whizbang Dustyboots" data-source="post: 8956766" data-attributes="member: 11760"><p>A week later and October O'Leary had gotten no closer to finding MacKenzie Guffin. He had asked after MacKenzie and Red Rook in the villages of Alder, Maple and Sycamore, and no one had ever heard of either. But they had heard of the Mountain and were fascinated to meet a resident.</p><p></p><p>The residents of the villages called this room Cubicus and the great woods that filled it the Cubicus Forest, names October didn’t recall ever having heard. The world was already larger and more complicated than he had ever imagined back in Annex.</p><p></p><p>And now it was three days later and October was out of food, thanks to torrential rain and a poorly secured pack. He had gotten a smoky little fire going in the shadow of a ruined staircase that stretched up to the sky, but with a gap between the remaining stairs of hundreds of feet. October had no food to cook, but he could at least dry out his spare clothes.</p><p></p><p>There was a wet sound of a foot leaves. October looked up into the glowing ember eyes of a roast pork. The boar was as tall as October was at the shoulder, with tusks like burning coals and steam coming off its flank. It dug in with its hind hooves as it pawed the ground with its front ones and watched October reach for his bow and arrows.</p><p></p><p>The roast pork stamped its paw and spit a gout of flame at October.</p><p></p><p>“Yikes!”</p><p></p><p>Unable to dive out of the way in time, October raised his forearm to block the flames. Forcing himself to block out the pain, he fired an arrow just as the roast pork opened its mouth to breathe flame again. The great beast made a gurgling noise and fell flat.</p><p></p><p>It tasted delicious.</p><p></p><p>Two days later, with a backpack full of self-cooked pork, October O’Leary came to a stony shore on the far side of the Cubicus Forest. A long crack in the eastern wall was filled with rolling seas, lashed by a storm high overhead in the crack between rooms.</p><p></p><p>Out in the tunnel, he watched a Rook, probably twice as tall as he was, walk through the waves, bringing driftwood ashore from a wreck somewhere in the tunnel.</p><p></p><p>The Rook wouldn’t attack October if he didn’t attack it — probably — but he kept his distance all the same, only approaching the growing pile of wood when the Rook returned to the tunnel.</p><p></p><p>He had only read about them in books as part of his training, but October guessed that this wood, with bits of metal attached to some pieces of it, was all from a boat or a ship.</p><p></p><p>October did a double-take and ran to the wood, brushing a ruined piece of rope aside.</p><p></p><p>“M. G. was here,” someone had carved into the wood, some time ago.</p><p></p><p>He looked at the Rook, splashing around in the rough waves. And beyond it, a dark sea and, beyond even that, brightly lit water in another </p><p>room beyond the wall.</p><p></p><p>“Well, I guess I need to find a boat.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Whizbang Dustyboots, post: 8956766, member: 11760"] A week later and October O'Leary had gotten no closer to finding MacKenzie Guffin. He had asked after MacKenzie and Red Rook in the villages of Alder, Maple and Sycamore, and no one had ever heard of either. But they had heard of the Mountain and were fascinated to meet a resident. The residents of the villages called this room Cubicus and the great woods that filled it the Cubicus Forest, names October didn’t recall ever having heard. The world was already larger and more complicated than he had ever imagined back in Annex. And now it was three days later and October was out of food, thanks to torrential rain and a poorly secured pack. He had gotten a smoky little fire going in the shadow of a ruined staircase that stretched up to the sky, but with a gap between the remaining stairs of hundreds of feet. October had no food to cook, but he could at least dry out his spare clothes. There was a wet sound of a foot leaves. October looked up into the glowing ember eyes of a roast pork. The boar was as tall as October was at the shoulder, with tusks like burning coals and steam coming off its flank. It dug in with its hind hooves as it pawed the ground with its front ones and watched October reach for his bow and arrows. The roast pork stamped its paw and spit a gout of flame at October. “Yikes!” Unable to dive out of the way in time, October raised his forearm to block the flames. Forcing himself to block out the pain, he fired an arrow just as the roast pork opened its mouth to breathe flame again. The great beast made a gurgling noise and fell flat. It tasted delicious. Two days later, with a backpack full of self-cooked pork, October O’Leary came to a stony shore on the far side of the Cubicus Forest. A long crack in the eastern wall was filled with rolling seas, lashed by a storm high overhead in the crack between rooms. Out in the tunnel, he watched a Rook, probably twice as tall as he was, walk through the waves, bringing driftwood ashore from a wreck somewhere in the tunnel. The Rook wouldn’t attack October if he didn’t attack it — probably — but he kept his distance all the same, only approaching the growing pile of wood when the Rook returned to the tunnel. He had only read about them in books as part of his training, but October guessed that this wood, with bits of metal attached to some pieces of it, was all from a boat or a ship. October did a double-take and ran to the wood, brushing a ruined piece of rope aside. “M. G. was here,” someone had carved into the wood, some time ago. He looked at the Rook, splashing around in the rough waves. And beyond it, a dark sea and, beyond even that, brightly lit water in another room beyond the wall. “Well, I guess I need to find a boat.” [/QUOTE]
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