Edit: inb4 “ai”. No. This is human slop and it’s completely different.
The hand started to come into view in the distance just as preparations were being finished. This tradition had been going on so long, no one even remembered how it started, but they knew why it continued. The villages bravest warrior was chosen weeks in advance and prepared for his journey. The fastest horse, the strongest bow, supplies for longer than he thought he could travel.
The mission was somewhat easy, even if the conclusion was hard. As the hand got closer to the city, you left on horseback and started to head east, away from the city. Once the hand got closer, the warrior would start firing arrows into the index finger. It was thought this was where the power of the hand was stored (as it did most of the actual killing). This barrage of arrows wasn’t enough to seriously injure it, but it was enough to make it mad. Predictably, it would change direction and start to give chase to the warrior.
Now it was just an endurance race. The route we followed was through enemy territories. We made sure to carry a giant hand banner as we rode through these villages and towns. At the sound of our gallop, the town locked up tight and families took shelter where they could. The hand always killed a couple as it passed through.
I was the latest chosen warrior, and after three days of nonstop riding, the hand was gaining on me and I was just about exhausted. I picked up the pace to the best of my ability but it was no use. The hand overtook my horse and with a swift flick of its finger, I was off my horse and tumbling across the ground. The hand grew near, and I closed my eyes in anticipation of my imminent demise. But death didn’t come. All I heard was “um…sir”. I opened my eyes to see the hand towering over me, beaming words directly into my mind as it lacked a mouth. Terrified, I looked up at it and said “…y-yes?”
We’ve been trying to reach you about your horse’s extended warranty
Edit: inb4 “ai”. No. This is human slop and it’s completely different.
The hand started to come into view in the distance just as preparations were being finished. This tradition had been going on so long, no one even remembered how it started, but they knew why it continued. The villages bravest warrior was chosen weeks in advance and prepared for his journey. The fastest horse, the strongest bow, supplies for longer than he thought he could travel.
The mission was somewhat easy, even if the conclusion was hard. As the hand got closer to the city, you left on horseback and started to head east, away from the city. Once the hand got closer, the warrior would start firing arrows into the index finger. It was thought this was where the power of the hand was stored (as it did most of the actual killing). This barrage of arrows wasn’t enough to seriously injure it, but it was enough to make it mad. Predictably, it would change direction and start to give chase to the warrior.
Now it was just an endurance race. The route we followed was through enemy territories. We made sure to carry a giant hand banner as we rode through these villages and towns. At the sound of our gallop, the town locked up tight and families took shelter where they could. The hand always killed a couple as it passed through.
I was the latest chosen warrior, and after three days of nonstop riding, the hand was gaining on me and I was just about exhausted. I picked up the pace to the best of my ability but it was no use. The hand overtook my horse and with a swift flick of its finger, I was off my horse and tumbling across the ground. The hand grew near, and I closed my eyes in anticipation of my imminent demise. But death didn’t come. All I heard was “um…sir”. I opened my eyes to see the hand towering over me, beaming words directly into my mind as it lacked a mouth. Terrified, I looked up at it and said “…y-yes?”
We’ve been trying to reach you about your horse’s extended warranty