The Hunt for the Wasting Miasma

What does your character think about it? Are they still trapped in the mist or have they made it out?

As Roe recovered her strength to continue on, she observed the scenes around her. The village had emptied and all the residents were now stood around its border, watching in horror. Families were huddled together, the elders trying to comfort the littles. Some were stood alone, stone faced with anger and hatred. Others were weeping hysterically at the abandonment of their home, unsure of when it would be safe to return. It was a mess. On the wind, there were murmurs of how The Order were to blame for this. She suddenly felt like a million eyes were staring right at her as she began to feel labelled with them. It made her want to shrink into the tiniest ball and let the ground swallow her up. 

It isn't my fault. But, then again, that's what they all said. That's how this all started. It wasn't my fault. Individuals pointing fingers at one another, no one willing to take the blame for their own downfalls. Just one person can't be to blame but there are many that can be held accountable. Roe wasn't the one to make that call. She wasn't sure who was the one to make that call. One little voice would never be heard over the ruckus of disorganisation so maybe it was time for those likeminded in their ideas to band together and stand up for what they believe in. Maybe they were the ones who could make the call of who was to blame. But, this would never work. It never does. A revolution just leads to chaos. Chaos opens the door for those who wish to take advantage and then another Government that cannot be trusted jumps into the empty space. Before anyone realises what's happened, the 'troublemakers' are silenced and life continues under a tightened grip of the leash. Roe's books tell enough stories about this exact situation over and over again, the rules becoming stricter and stricter each time to keep them from falling out of line again. History always repeats.

In an ideal world, magic has so many benefits to those with and without the ability. It is to aid those in need, make jobs easier and lift any barriers to opportunities. No one should be scared. No one should feel outnumbered. No one should be backed into a corner. In reality, none of these things truly happen. There are good souls out there, it's true, but the majority were out here for themselves. It has become a 'hunt or be hunted' mentality for everyone, with mages clearly having an advantage.

As an order mage, she should be against those who speak ill of them as they were, by association, tarnishing her with that brush too. But Roe could not find ANY excuse to argue back. She hated The Order and her magic. Look at her now - she was slumped on the floor like a bag of potatoes, exhausted! This is what her magic reduces her to. The pain throbs in her entire body. Every bone aches. Her mind becomes mushy with the rush of fatigue. If Roe could get rid of her magic, she would. It was a burden, not a gift. Plus, she had been in the suffocating embrace of The Order for long enough to know that they were not remotely interested in anyone in their rankings. They were only interested on what leverage they could offer. It is the reason why the trainers were so relentless with her and it is the reason why she runs away. But the tightening of the grip had already begun, especially after the Archmage Hagia corrupted and began this downward spiral of distrust. Being anything other than an Order mage was strictly forbidden and the newly-appointed witchfinders were all too eager to fulfil their bounties. It scared Roe into staying put, regardless of the treatment she received. Her head on a spike would not be a pretty sight.

In misery, she rose to her feet. Despite her own thoughts and feelings, the residents of Mead still needed help. She was to suck it up and deal with it in her own time, preferably after the threats of danger had been dealt with. Those who had come in from surrounding settlements herded the affected up the embankment, away from the trickling mist. It was clear, however, that their efforts were not in vain. The mist was slowly fading, thinning so the visibility was clearer now. The rooftops of buildings were peeking through and the outlines of bodies were easier to distinguish. There were still some who were trapped inside the swirling nightmare but there was no way that Roe was adventuring back into the village, even if the mist was lessening - that didn't mean its potency was weakening. Alongside these bodies of trapped souls, she could now make out the monster's figure. It was the first time she had laid eyes upon it. It was a huge, towering skeleton, making her look like an ant beneath its feet. Eyes twirled around him, staring ominously at everyone as if it were the ruler of judgement day and it was deciding their fate. Roe sucked in a breath of air, holding it tightly for a moment. Despite its size, no vibrations of footsteps could be felt. It moved silently, damaging nothing. It was overwhelmingly daunting.

The petite deer turned away from the sight. She couldn't look at it any longer. Instead, she decided to help and began to follow everyone else up the hill, towards the medical tent. At least up there, she could be of some use.