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Grian was, a strange man to say the very least, despite everyone’s lack of memories, he started out with a reputation that he was not to be trusted. Everyone knew from the get-go that he was a prankster, despite this Martyn had decided to give Grian some diamonds, and Grian had happily replied by handing over his golden apple.
Grian really wished he had kept it now.
Grian’s reputation was proved right when he was the cause of the first death.
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Grian stared at the hole where Scar had died, and then subsequently evaporated in a puff of smoke leaving nothing but a pile of items and armor.
Everyone was freaking out, to everyone’s limited knowlege and memories, once you died you were dead. No comebacks, no nothing. So everyone just stared at Scar’s pile of items in quiet shock.
And it was Grian’s fault. It was a prank.
Correction: it was supposed to be a prank, but it was anything but that now. Scar had died. And it was Grian’s fault.
Grian stood up from where he had fell to his knees, quietly building a head stone (since there was nothing to bury) and Grian fully intended to retreat into his ugly, ugly, base and becoming a hermit, until a familiar voice cut through his quiet, yet screaming mind.
“What’d I miss?” Scar asked, like he hadn’t just risen from the dead.
“Scar!” Impulse and a few others yelped, running to hug their friend, as Grian watched quietly from a distance. The once loud and brash avian now quiet and resigned.
Grian knew what he had to do. He pulled Scar away from the group.
“Hey Grian, what’s up?” Scar asked, his voice chipper, yet strained, clearly Scar was just being polite for the sake of being respectful and to prevent a fight.
“I’m so sorry for killing you, so I’m going to make it right,” Grian said, noticing that the bright green eyes that Scar and the others had were now a yellow color, Grian felt sick.
Scar simply stared at Grian kneeled in front of him.
“I pledge my life to you, until I die I’ll follow you.”
Scar stared at Grian for a moment.
Two.
“Let’s take the desert,” was all Scar said.
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The first night sucked, they had only just arrived at the desert when the moon was high in the sky. Grian set up a lackluster tent for the night, with little more than a single ratty blanket to protect the two of them from the cold nights of the desert.
Grian had been to the desert before, but he only stayed for a moment, too put off by the giant wall of magic preventing anyone from leaving or entering the small region where the fourteen of them inhabited. The wall felt off to Grian, radiating the feeling of being watched by a thousand eyes, it made Grian uneasy. No matter where Grian went the feeling of being watched followed him around, but near the strange barrier it was a far, far, more unsettling feeling, that made it near impossible to sleep.
Grian sighed, sitting up, he wasn’t getting any sleep tonight, he shrugged off the blanket, hoping scar wouldn’t wake up, he had already been through enough today, he didn’t need Grian being the cause of more strife.
Grian stared out on the desert and the wall of magic. He wanted to know why it’s power felt so familiar, but he knew that the search for answers would lead to nothing. For all everyone knew they hadn’t existed before they all woke up on the first day. But Grian had the feeling that there was more to this than what they knew.
Grian was the only one who, upon waking up, had any sort of reputation, especially a negative one. But here he was, living up to his mysterious reputation as a troublemaker. Grian sighed, getting to work on a proper house for him and Scar.
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It was an accident, but it was also so much more.
Grian and Scar were just joking around, when Scar, not looking, tumbled into a ravine to his death. Well, his second death. And Grian had no clue what was to come.
Scar became bloodthirsty and Grian was forced to set a trap and kill people who he had once thought of as friends. Grian tried to warn them, he really did, but he couldn’t protect them, not without betraying a red life. And you never, never, wanted to betray a red life.
Grian did his best to survive, but he died all the same.
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This is it, the final stand off. Twelve of Grian’s friends, aquiences, and enemies lay dead around the server. There was no one left but him and Scar, two red lives with intent to kill. But just because they were red didn’t mean they wouldn’t fight fair.
Each dumped their items in a chest, taking off any armor and stepping into the circle of cactus.
“Lets let the ghosts count us in,” Grian said, and Scar nodded, then the two burst into combat.
And
Grian won, but it wasn’t much of a victory. How could it be? His best friend was dead, and he was the cause. He was also the reason why several of his friends now lay dead, everyone he ever knew. So, Grian walked to the edge of monopoly mountain, and jumped.
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Xisuma hadn’t slept in days, in the switch between seasons many hermits simply vanished, and Xisuma had done all he could to find them, when finally he found something.
An inconspicuous white listed world, where, when he checked the whitelist, included eac of the missing hermits, and several others, so Xisuma let everyone know what he was doing and entered the world, bypassing the whitelist, and as he explored the world, he foun fourteen dead bodies. One of which on top of a mountain, and another which had fallen off a cliff.
Oh gods.
What had the Watchers done to them?
Xisuma didn’t know where to go from here, but he knew one thing, his friends deserved better.