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Old 07-18-2019, 01:39 PM   #37 (permalink)
The Narrator
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Billywig
 
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Join Date: Aug 2006
Location: Hogwarts
Posts: 3,463

Hogwarts RPG Name:
The Narrator
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follow me; everything is all right.

As you move through the gray haze and on to the Hogwarts grounds, the first thing your well trained herbologist eyes may notice is that the flora here does not seem to be particularly out of sorts. Nothing that wouldn't be expected of plants that had not seen the sun for a prolonged period of time. Your samples here, should you be able to collect any, would reveal just as much.

No toxins. Nothing foul at play. Nothing to fault in the quality of the air. Simply flora starved for sunlight.
......you will also discover that your Bubble Head Charms are worthless against the true nature of the mist....
........which seemed to thicken as you step closer and closer to the castle itself (holding on to a rope to help guide you back a stroke of genius)...
Quote:
Originally Posted by Jessiqua View Post
Bubble-head charm was a quick and easy way to ensure some protection for all involved. Archer promptly applied one, and secured the gloves onto his hands. Certain that all of the adults in presence were capable of also applying their own, he nevertheless had a quick glance around to make sure nobody needed assistance. Nerves, that sort of thing.

The man wasn't wanting to lead, of course, but he would have. Olly also had a family at home, but he wasn't disappointed when she went first. At her glance, he tried to convey a look of trust, of confidence, but wasn't sure it would come across that way. He did trust her, but they had no idea what was beyond this mist.

Taking a firm grasp of the rope, Archer followed those in front of him. Through the gates. It had been a long time for him, but his children - Merlin hope - would also be making their journey into the castle. Not with a mist, though. They had to understand it, solve whatever this was, because there was no way his children were coming here in the mist.

It was eery, the eeriest situation he had ever been in. Not being able to see far ahead, only the people who were also attached to the rope. The ominous feeling, the fear prickling down his neck like an invisible hand. The further they got, the more it intensified. His eyes saw a flicker of something and he felt the blood drain from his head, right down to his feet. Every inch of his intestines felt like they had dropped from his body. Surely his heart was beating so fast it would soon explode, the pounding in his head thub, thub, thub. He wanted to call out, but opening his mouth only paralysed his vocal cords. Something coming, but no - no it couldn't be real. The mist had to be playing with his head. It was... it was impossible. But he couldn't, wouldn't let go of the rope.

His hands tremored before his legs gave out under him. His hand being ripped from the rope as he fell. Where he landed on his knees, he covered his head with his arms. The sound escaping his mouth was a horrified groan.
It happens suddenly. Indistinguishable shapes reach out from the murky clouds and grab hold of your legs. Latching on tightly, they yanked hard. A shoe is torn off and discarded, but the shapes came back for more to yank on the leg proper this time with a determination pull you away from the group and into its depths....
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