>>2006453
>Search your pockets. Maybe you still have your cell phone. You can call the police.

>>2006453
>>Search your pockets. Maybe you still have your cell phone. You can call the police!

>>2006453
>Search your pockets. Maybe you still have your cell phone. You can call the police.

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Your hand wanders to your back pocket first. As you feel around, unsurprisingly, your wallet is missing. Still, you doubt whoever robbed you would’ve taken your cell phone. Reaching into the front pocket of your hoodie, you swear when your hands find nothing. Even the folding pocket knife you usually carry is missing.

A thought comes to you as your eyes scan the broken ground you just crawled out of. Kneeling down, you run your hands through the disturbed dirt. You dig until your fingers are cold and sore, but find nothing. As you again sit near the site of your would-be grave, a thought hits you. You can’t remember your name.

Rubbing your head, you try to think of anything from before last night, drawing a blank. Everything is vague. You remember having a mother and father, as well as a brother, you think. Their faces are blurry in your mind. Shaking your head, you groan. Whoever did this probably drugged you. You can’t remember anything in-detail about yourself.

You stand up, genuinely afraid. As you take another look around the cemetery, you decide that you need to leave. You have to find someone, anyone, who can take you to a hospital. Your head aches as you begin walking. Putting your hood up and your hands in the front pocket for warmth, you step hesitantly toward the ruined cemetery gate.

Was that another light in the woods? Though, are you even certain you actually saw a light and not a reflection or something? No, you look and see it again, for sure this time. There’s something casting a cold, yellow light through the trees, far away. You stop and listen. Either it’s a house, or people. Your blood runs cold. If the light is a person carrying a lantern, it could be one of the goons who put you in the ground. But what if it’s someone who can help you?

No, you figure. It’s too much of a risk. You’d be better off seeing where the gate leads. If there’s a road on the other side, you can follow it until you find people. You begin walking toward the gate again when you hear a loud crunch nearby, followed by shuffling. Something is in the cemetery with you.

>Hide. Find a tree or tombstone and get behind it.
>”Hello? Is someone there?”
>Grab a fallen branch. Anyone else out here is bound to be up to no good. You may have to fight.
>Write-in.

>>2006611
>Hide. Find a tree or tombstone and get behind it.
But try to observe whatevers here with you.

>>2006611
>Grab a fallen branch. Anyone else out here is bound to be up to no good. You may have to fight.

>>2006611
>Hide. Find a tree or tombstone and get behind it.

I'll wait ten more minutes for a tiebreaker then roll if there isn't one.

>>2006759
Oops. Never mind! Writing now.

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You grimace, quickly ducking behind a large tombstone nearby. As you press your back up to the cold granite, you hear the shuffling stop.

There is another sound that floats through the cool, misty air. A wet crunching sound, like that of walking through snow. You peek over the stone and see a man hunched over something, a few rows to your left. You duck below the level of the tombstone again, then move to another, in the opposite direction of the man.

The crunching stops, and you stop moving as well. Instead of moving, you listen, waiting for something. There is no sound for a solid five minutes, and finally your curiosity gets the better of you. A peek over the stone shows that the man is now standing totally still, looking up at the sky. His head is bald, and his white shirt is in tatters. He looks to have some kind of rash, with red patches running all along his neck and head.

The man hunches over again, and a tombstone obstructs whatever he is doing. You hear the crunching again, followed by heavy breathing. The man hunches lower, and you hear a sharp crack. You fight the urge to stand up and see what is going on, and you are about to start moving again when you hear a sickening series of gulps and gasps. You hear more shuffling, from a different place now. Your eyes move to an area near the closest tree, and you see someone step out of the darkness toward the man.

The shorter person walks over without a word, and kneels down as well. You hear more sickening noises and immediately begin moving toward the trees behind you. Even with the loudness of the two mystery people, you move as quietly as possible.

However, as soon as you move away from the tombstone, the noises stop. You hold your breath, wide-eyed as the figures stand up. The first one to arrive turns to you, darkness obscuring his face. You instinctively back up, hitting a stone behind you. As the second one turns, chills go up your spine. The two shapes look right at you with horrible, glowing eyes. You quickly glance behind you. The forest is probably close enough for you to make a run for it. You also notice a decorative marble pillar, about the size of your forearm, has broken off of a tombstone and lays within a few feet of you. The taller one lets out a labored, shrill scream as both of them move in your direction.

>Pick up the miniature pillar. If these guys want a fight, they’ll get one.
>Fuck this noise. Run for the woods.
>Write-in.

>>2006865
>Pick up the miniature pillar. If these guys want a fight, they’ll get one.

Well since it doesn't look like any more votes are going to be made on this prompt, roll a 1d100.

Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>2006939

Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>2006939

Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>2006939

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You pick up the pillar, weighing it in your hand. The thing is heavy, with enough mass to do some damage. You look to the screaming form lumbering toward you. “Step back, only warning.” You raise the column threateningly. This does nothing however, as the person gets close enough for you to see their face.

He has sunken, milky eyes and clearly-visible teeth, with no lips. Not only that, but his jaw is exposed. He looks like some monster from an old horror movie. You recoil in disgust briefly before shouting as you bring the improvised bludgeon down.

It connects with the thing’s shoulder, making a loud crunch as the ghoulish figure stumbles back. Its scream only grows louder as it barrels down on you again. “Dammit,” you grunt. This time your aim is much better, and the stone pillar falls square onto the thing’s forehead. Viscera splatters all over your weapon and the thing’s now-collapsed forehead as it falls to the ground with a sickening thud.

As soon as the ghoul stops moving, you turn your attention to the shorter one, which is now within striking distance. It lunges at you, screaming as you move out of the way. The thing’s head collides with a tombstone and it falls over. You step back as it clumsily picks itself up. You kick it in the chest, and to your disgust your foot caves in a large portion, breaking several ribs. You move back, expecting it to fall over from such a severe wound.

It doesn’t, however, and you have to step back again as it lunges for you. Bringing the pillar down, you manage to break the thing’s arm off and send it staggering again. It shakes its head, seemingly dazed, before coming at you again.

Having had enough of this, you grimace, bringing the stone bludgeon down on the ghoul’s head. It practically implodes from the force of the impact, sending gore across a small mausoleum behind it.

You sigh, listening carefully as the graveyard falls silent. No noises whatsoever. You figure that was probably the last of them, at least for now. There is a strange smell wafting through the night air now, you realize. You sniff the air cautiously, then frown as a noise reaches your ears. There is a sound of crackling, like that of a distant bonfire, and you recognize the smell now. Smoke. As you look down at the now-neutralized ghouls, you notice that one had some pouches on his belt.

>Leave this cemetery through the front gate. You need to find out what the fuck is going on.
>Investigate the distant bonfire.
>See what these things had on them. Might find something useful.
>Write-in.

>>2007320
>See what these things had on them. Might find something useful.

File: L O O T I N G.gif (4.03 MB, 250x250)

4.03 MB GIF

>>2007320
>>See what these things had on them. Might find something useful.

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You kneel next to the ghoul with the pouches on its belt. The thing’s rotten flesh makes your stomach turn, but you steel yourself and begin rifling through his possessions.

The first of the pouches contains some unfamiliar coins, a dozen or so. You pocket them and move on to the next ones. Though the ghoul doesn’t have much of anything, you do find an old compass. That’ll be good for travelling if you need to.

The next ghoul has a jacket on. It is a tattered, olive drab military one, and you find some interesting items in his pockets. First, you find a Zippo lighter inscribed “1968-1972.” You continue looking and find a rusted, snub-nosed revolver. Opening the cylinder, you see that it is empty, but you tuck it into your waistband anyway in case you find some ammunition. Not only that, but it’ll be good if you need to intimidate anyone.

You stand up again, squinting as you look up at the sky. It is a slightly lighter color in one direction now. Checking your compass, you are surprised to see that the approaching sunrise is apparently coming from the west… You grimace and put the compass away. You still have the improvised bludgeon, and you figure that you should keep it for a little while longer at least.

It begins to rain lightly after a minute or so. Swearing to yourself, you realize that you need to find a way out of this place, a way back to civilization. Taking another look at the ghouls, you absently wonder if there even is a civilization to go back to.

You sniff cautiously, smelling something oddly familiar in the rainy air. Smoke, somewhere distant. As the wind blows you lose the scent. Looking off into the forest, you see the same light from earlier. It almost appears to be moving. Could it be a fire of some sort? You feel a shiver coming on as the rain begins to soak your cotton hoodie.

>Head out through the gate. Try following the road to wherever it leads.
>Go into the forest, in the direction of that light.
>Head west, toward the apparently-rising sun.
>Write-in.

>>2008019
>>Head out through the gate. Try following the road to wherever it leads.
Aw shit, is the sun literally rising in the west? That's End-of-Days shit right there.

>>2008019

>Head out through the gate. Try following the road to wherever it leads.

>>2008019
>Head out through the gate. Try following the road to wherever it leads.

>exit through the gate following the street

I think that if there is someone that lost time to camp in a place like this, is probably the the moron who buried us.

*waste. Sorry english is not my native language

>>2008019
>>Head out through the gate. Try following the road to wherever it leads.

DUSTY

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Op?

>>2013855
Sorry, had work the last couple days. Session in six hours, and another tomorrow evening.

Just got home from work. Going to heat up some chili and start writing in a few minutes. Probably won't be many posts tonight though.

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You make a bee-line for the main gate, resting the pillar on your shoulder as you walk. The road is a rough, dirt path leading in a single direction through the woods. You strain to see ahead of you as you walk. There is mist low along the ground, and the treetops obscure what little pre-dawn light there is.

As you walk, you notice the occasional tombstone off in the distance, between the trees. Is this still part of the graveyard? You keep walking along the path, picking up your pace as the light grows brighter. Soon it becomes obvious that the sun has already risen, though you can see through the treetops that the sky is overcast. Checking the compass again, you’re sure the sun rose from the west… You’re sure the compass is just broken or something, there’s no way the sun is moving in reverse.

The grass in this place appears to be all that is alive. The trees are covered in dead, brown leaves, and you do not see any signs of animal life. Even the wind does not blow. You’ve been in forests before, and you’ve never experienced one that was totally silent. As you continue down the road, you find a dry creek bed. Laying half-buried in the mud is a skeleton, with vines growing through its ribcage. You fight off a cold shiver as you look away and continue walking.

You eventually emerge from the thickest parts of the forest, and as the road leads you along some dead hedge rows, you look out through the edges of the forest. There is a field to your left, off the road, but open enough that you may be able to get your bearings. Still, if you follow the road, it is sure to lead to somewhere. At least, that’s what common sense would tell you.

There is a gust of wind, the first since you woke up, followed by a light breeze. You feel the wind through your hoodie, grimacing. It isn’t dangerously cold out, but you certainly aren’t comfortable. Grumbling, you peer through the trees, into the field, to try and get an idea of what might be there. You think you see some structures in the distance, but for all you know they could be farm equipment or abandoned buildings… Wait, is there a person out there? You think you see something move.

>Continue along the road. You want out of here as soon as possible.
>May as well investigate the field. It’s not like you’re in too much of a hurry. Besides, if you find another person, you’ll be able to get some answers.
>Write-in.

>>2015101
>May as well investigate the field. It’s not like you’re in too much of a hurry. Besides, if you find another person, you’ll be able to get some answers.

Be ready to bash some zombies/baddies if need be

>>2015101
>May as well investigate the field. It’s not like you’re in too much of a hurry. Besides, if you find another person, you’ll be able to get some answers.

Be ready to bash some zombies/baddies if need be

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You step through the hedgerows and thin trees, grunting as some brambles catch on your jeans. The wind blows a little harder here in the open field, knocking your hood down. You squint to try and get a better view of where you thought you saw movement.

As you approach the shapes in the distance, it becomes clear that your earlier assumptions were wrong. The objects in question were nowhere near as large or far away as you had initially thought. Sighing, you walk toward more tombstones. However, out here in the open you see a large structure on a hilltop in the distance, it almost looks like a castle or something…

You also discover what was moving. A young blond woman kneels in front of a gravestone and picks some dead flowers, humming to herself. She wears dark colors, as well as a black, hooded cloak. You frown, taking a step toward her. She picks another flower, examining it carefully before putting it into a wicker basket.

“Ahem,” you cough into your hand to announce your presence.

The woman practically jumps up, her eyes narrowing at you. She draws a long dagger and steps back defensively, not saying a word.

You also step back, not feeling too keen on fighting a woman with a dagger. “Look, I don’t want any trouble…” You put a hand up, your other one keeping the pillar balanced on your shoulder.

She raises an eyebrow, not moving the dagger. You both stand there motionless for a few seconds before she speaks. “That’s interesting…” She lowers the dagger slightly. “Can you understand me?”

You nod. “Of course I can. Now could you quit waving that knife at me?”

She shrugs. “I’m not putting it away, if that’s what you mean…” The woman then points at you. “I will say that meeting you is interesting though, it’s not every day you meet a skeleton that is actually sentient.”

You frown.

>”Uh, beg your pardon?”
>”…Right. Can you give me directions to the nearest town or something?”
>Walk away. This woman is clearly out of her mind.
>Write-in.

Well, looks like there won't be much of a session tonight after all.

>>2016519
Ask for directions

>”Uh, beg your pardon?”

>>2016519
>”Uh, beg your pardon?”

>>2016519
>>”Uh, beg your pardon?”

>>2016519
>”Uh, beg your pardon?”

>>2016519
>”Uh, beg your pardon?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Beg your pardon?”

The woman merely nods. “A skeleton. You know, all bones, no flesh.”

You sigh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I think you need your eyes checked. I’m not a skeleton.”

She chuckles to herself, walking up to you and pressing a finger into your chest. When she hits muscle, her expression changes. “Wait… Show me your hands.” She grabs your empty hand and looks intensely at it. “This is interesting…”

You yank your hand away, stepping back. “What’s wrong with you?”

The woman then grimaces. “Alright… I’m going to do something real quick. Try to not panic too much…” She reaches into her pocket and produces a pocket-sized mirror. As she raises it to your face, you see a skull looking back at you. Not just a skull, but a skull inside of a black hoodie, the same one you are wearing.

You chuckle. “Alright, what’s going on here?” You grab the mirror. “This is some sort of illusion, right?” You run a hand across your face, everything feeling normal and fleshy.

“That’s…” The woman looks away. “That’s your reflection. You have a skull for a head…” She then leans toward you. “I’ve never seen anything like this before…”

“You’ve got to be joking,” you say. “That’s not possible.”

She sighs. “Don’t believe me? Have a seat on the ground here. I want to try something.”

>”Alright. Just don’t try anything funny.”
>”Look, I don’t know how you made it look like my head is a skull, but I don’t really care. Can you just point me to the nearest town or something?”
>”Absolutely not.” (leave)
>Write-in.

>>2025716
>”Alright. Just don’t try anything funny.”

>>2025716
>”Alright. Just don’t try anything funny.”

>>2025716
>>”Alright. Just don’t try anything funny.”

You sigh. “Fine. No funny business though.” With that, you sit cross-legged on the cool ground. The woman walks up behind you, tugging your hood off and placing a hand on either side of your head. Her fingers are cold to the touch, and it is easy for you to feel them running through your hair.

“Okay…” She then moves her hands down along the sides of your head, onto your neck. “This is strange. You seem to be a regular human from the neck down…” You feel her hands wrap around the base of your skull, and there is a sharp tug. You let out a short yelp of surprise as your vision shifts up almost a foot. You try to stand up and see what she just did, but find that your entire body has gone numb. Almost immediately, you feel yourself lifted into the air a good five feet or so, and hear the woman hum in concentration. “This looks vaguely familiar…”

“What exactly did you just do?” You try to keep the panic out of your voice. As you speak, your vision pivots downward and you see, to your horror, your own headless body lying on the ground.

“Told you that you weren’t a mere mortal.” She sounds grim as she speaks. “Now, let’s see if I can put your head back on without any complications…”

You are lowered carefully to about knee-height, then turned toward the sky. There is a jerk, like that full-body twitch you get when on the verge of sleep, and you can feel your body again. You wriggle your fingers and toes, then move your arms, and finally sit up slowly. “What did you just do?”

The woman crosses her arms, kneeling next to you. “I checked to see if there were any magic markings on your skull. Also I wanted to see what kind of control you had over your body when your skull was removed…” She looks away. “Sorry. That probably falls under ‘funny business’ for you, doesn’t it?”

You frown, though it probably doesn’t register since skulls aren't great at showing facial expressions. “Yeah. That definitely counts as funny business.” You then sigh. “So I have a skull for a head… What does this mean for me?”

The woman rubs her chin thoughtfully. “Well… It’s technically not your head, at least, I don’t think it is. There was a surrogate link rune on the underside of your skull, right near the spot where the vertebrae connect.”

>”So what is a surrogate link?”
>”How do you know all of this?”
>”You should’ve told me what you were about to do.”
>”Where are we? This doesn’t seem anything like the world I’m familiar with.”
>”So I’m… Dead?”
>”Wait, if this isn’t MY head, where is my real head?”
>Write-in.

>>2027522
>Write-in
"I have literally no clue about what you just said."
>”Where are we? This doesn’t seem anything like the world I’m familiar with.”
>”How do you know all of this?”
>”So what is a surrogate link?”

>>2027522
>”So what is a surrogate link?”
>”How do you know all of this?”
>”You should’ve told me what you were about to do.”
>”Where are we? This doesn’t seem anything like the world I’m familiar with.”
>”So I’m… Dead?”
>”Wait, if this isn’t MY head, where is my real head?”

Going to post an update in 4 to 5 hours, then run a proper session tomorrow afternoon.

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Actually, no update right now as I need sleep. Session will run tomorrow as planned.

You look at the woman, who frowns at you. "So what exactly is a surrogate link?"

The woman frowns. "A surrogate link is a type of spell... It falls under necromancy, sort of." She crosses her arms.

"Necromancy... So how do you know all of this?"

The woman looks away, seemingly uncomfortable. "I read a lot." You raise an eyebrow, not that it matters much. "Well, that's not completely true. I know more about magic than most..."

"So you're... A witch?" You frown when she nods reluctantly. "And what about me? Am I dead or something?"

She shakes her head. "Not quite. And this also answers your question about the surrogate link a little better." She drops her hood, letting her blond hair blow in the wind. "Your real head is somewhere else, still alive. And your body is also alive." She pokes your head and you feel her finger run through your hair. "And you can still feel skin an hair on your head, right?" You nod and she continues. "You're feeling sensations with your real head."

You grumble, nodding. "So my real head is still alive somewhere. And you wouldn't happen to know where that is, would you?" She shakes her head. "And where are we anyway?"

She frowns. "Just east of Rinther, why?"

You sigh. "And where exactly is Rinther? This whole place seems unfamilair to me."

She shrugs. "I honestly have no idea what you mean. Maybe you just aren't from around here." She points over her shoulder with her thumb. "I'm actually heading there later today, if you want to tag along. You'll probably be able to get some leads on your predicament."

>"Sorry, I think I'll go my own way."
>"Sure, lead the way."
>"But I have a skull for a head, won't people be afraid?"
>"Why would someone take my real head and give me a skull? Is there any practical reason for it?"
>Write-in.

>>2037097
>>"But I have a skull for a head, won't people be afraid?"
>>"Why would someone take my real head and give me a skull? Is there any practical reason for it?"

You sigh. “I have a skull for a head. Won’t people react somewhat negatively to that?”

The woman shrugs. “Not if you mind your own business.” She leans against a tombstone as you stand up. “Rinther isn’t in Chapel territory, so you’ll be fine.”

You frown uselessly, running a hand over your head. It brings another thought to mind. “So why would someone take my real head and replace it with a skull? Is there any practical reason for it?”

The woman raises an eyebrow. “The head of a living person is a powerful source of magical energy. If you can separate a person from their cranium while keeping it alive as a fuel source, you have a well of life-energy that replenishes itself over time and never tries to fight back.” She then sighs. “Or at least, that’s my assumption. I’ve only read a little bit on the subject. As you can imagine, cutting peoples’ heads off and using them for spells is frowned upon. Even by most necromancers, in fact.” She then rubs her chin thoughtfully. “And if I remember correctly, the act of separating the head from its host damages some of their memories. I’m assuming you have amnesia to some degree?”

You nod. “Can’t remember much of anything. Not even my name.” You sigh, looking to the west. “So this town, Rinther. How far away is it?”

“Maybe an hours’ walk, assuming you travel by foot.” She grins, extending a hand to you. “Anyhow, shall we be going, Hamilton?”

“Hamilton?” You rub the back of your neck. “Who is Hamilton?”

“You,” she replies. “After all, you can’t remember your name, right? I figure Hamilton is as good a name as any.” She smiles. “My name is Lizabeth van Strasburg, by the way. You can call me Liza though.”

>Go with her.
>”I think I’ll find my own way there, thanks.”
>”Do you think I’ll get my memories back if I can find my head?”
>”Chapel territory? What’s that?”
>Write-in.

>>2037857
>>Go with her.
>>”Chapel territory? What’s that?”
>>Write-in
I do remember some math and other basic science.

>>2037962
Supporting. Also keep an eye out for indicators of the year. Lighter said '68, we had a cellphone and hoodie, but Liza's pic looks older...curiouser and curioser

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“Well, let’s go.” You take Liza’s hand as she guides you out of the cemetery. She picks up her basket of flowers, walking ahead of you.

“Alright then,” she smiles. “We should stop by my place so I can drop these off first,” she points to the basket of flowers. You follow her out toward the woods, heading northwest.

“So what is Chapel Territory?” You pick up your pillar and rest it on your shoulder as you walk.

“The Chaplains are a militaristic cult,” Liza frowns. “They seem to think that magic is evil.” She sighs. “So you’ve got amnesia. Is there anything you do remember?”

You nod. “Basic math and science. Plus some memories of my early childhood.” You frown. “Everything else is vague… Like it’s just out of reach.”

“I see,” she nods. “Well, it’s almost midmorning. My home isn’t far.” She points through the trees, where you see a small foot path leading deeper into the woods.

You both keep walking. This place is strange, you wonder for a moment if this is even the same world as the one you remember. As rain begins to sprinkle again, both of you put your hoods up. There is movement in the woods as you walk along the path, almost like the forest itself is watching you.

You pull the old zippo from your pocket, squinting at the spot on the tarnished chrome where your reflection would be. The outline of your skull greets you in the splotchy silver. Sighing, you put it away.

Looking up, you see Liza standing in front of you. She raises an eyebrow. “Everything alright, Hamilton?”

You shrug. “As much as it can be.” You nod forward. “Lead the way.”

Well, that concludes the first thread of South of Styx! Thanks to everyone for playing. I'll probably run another thread of this and switch back to Starcaller sometime around the 20th of November.

Mood music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iuky6gaWncU