You want to hear a story? Well, I do know one..
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I had been traveling Eorzea from Shroud to Sea in an effort to seek my fortune. It had been days since my last hot meal, weeks since a proper bed, and nearly a month with only myself for company. It would be two more starving, treacherous days until I reached the high walls of Ul'dah
By the glow of the red moon, nestled in the shadow of a large cliff ahead was a flickering campfire. Hopes to resupply overrode my better judgment. I crept my way to the edge of the light's warm glow.
What I saw was a short fellow - no taller than myself. He wore a thick brown cowl with the hood pulled fast around his head. I watched as he casually tossed a large branch onto the campfire. The fire leapt and danced at the offering.
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My heart froze when I saw a wicked butcher's knife drawn and glinting in the firelight. The figure stared intently ahead, face shrouded by an old wooden mask. In a grim and raspy voice the man called, "Well now - Are you going to stop playing in the sand and make yourself known?" I quickly donned a mask of my own in hopes of keeping some portion of my presence a secret, and warily approached the camp.
My stomach gave a betraying groan as I stepped closer to the fire. The figure nodded in response. “Aye, well most of the good bits are gone, but here.” Reaching into a tattered pack, the stranger produced a faerie apple and proceeded to chop it into quarters with his knife. He handed me half the pieces, and threw the rest into the flames.
“Even fire's got to eat.” He said, patting the top of an old lantern at his side. “We've all got to make sure we get ours in when we can.” I happily chewed the sliced apple, letting the cool juices slake at my thirst and curb my maddening appetite.
“Here, take the pack and what's left of it. No use for me.” The raggedy pack was tossed my way, and upon closer examination I noticed there was fresh blood on the canvas. As I examined the splotch of blood that had pooled on the pack. The man laughed. “Oh. That's not mine.”
I felt fear nipping at the back of my mind again. Something was wrong about this place. The revelation came like a tidal wave. Smoke! I stared down at the fire, but there was no ash or smoke to be seen. A glint of metal in the fire drew my attention. Horror gripped me as I noticed what I'd mistaken for a branch earlier. The branch was wearing a ring! It was a man's arm! The flesh was being torn and gulped by the wisps – dozens of them. The crackling of the fire was really the sound of bones being gnawed by their voracious little mouths.
I staggered back, and my host leveled a piercing gaze at me. The figure tilted it's head, and wielded the glinting knife once more. In its other weathered and greenish hand it produced the lantern that had sat by his side. With deliberate and calculated steps, he approached me. The mask dropped with a resolute thud. As it raised the lantern to its face, I gasped in horror.
Murderous yellow eyes stared back from an impossible face of green skin. The campfire exploded to life in a flurry of movement and the wisps encircled the lantern - casting the figure in a sickly pale glow. A sing-song melody began to emerge from the wisps in tiny childlike voices.
"It comes for you
In dead of night,
to use your soul
for lantern's light.
try to run,
but never win
Tonberry comes
to eat your sin"
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By the twelve I ran until the stars bled into the dawn. I ran to the doors of the Arrzaneth Ossuary. They thought me a madman for my tale, but the grim scene still haunts me. There – at the corner of my eye. He approaches still. Listen! Can you hear the song?
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