Extend the Story - Add a Room

You decide to follow your Red brother North, hoping that the path known as "righteousness" will bring you closer to your gray Sister of the heavenly "north" (what you believe "The Voice" referred to as the "center" - surely your fate and the contest's prize must be intertwined). You wonder what may await you as you make your way through the loose sand which shifts under your feet with every step. As the wind blows grains of sand into your face, you squint your eyes to minimize the intermittent stings. This is nothing, considering your upbringing and the trials of your past.

You begin climbing the side of a large dune, your feet digging unbidden into the sand. As you reach the halfway point of the dune, you foot unearths something as you lift it to take your next step.

Just as you are about to inspect what your foot has found, a booming automated voice announces overhead that there are 199 contestants remaining. You can't deny that the voice startled you a bit, but you are sure that these announcements will be pretty commonplace in the future. You look forward to hearing a few of those announcements as a result of your actions.

You reach down into the sand and pull up a wooden spear, with a sharpened stone for a tip. It is an ancient weapon, but in circumstances such as these, you are certain it will prove beneficial. When the elders were alive, they talked of the buffalo hunts your ancestors would go on using spears such as these. "Perhaps the weapon is fitting," you muse.

You were trained on how to use it, but have used such a weapon in combat very infrequently. Hand-to-hand weapons are admittedly not your forte, and a two handed weapon must be used as offense and defense, an art you never truly got the hang of. This could be quite a learning experience for "Phoenix Stalker: Self-proclaimed Master of the Bow".

You continue to climb the dune. After several minutes and another announced death, you reach the top and look down at the surrounding area.

Far to the West, you can see a river that seperates the desert sands from lush green grasses. You discover with disdain that this Arena is a cruel mockery of nature. To the Northeast, you can see a lone figure walking away from your position, a black spot on the distant sand. "Perhaps the next announcement will be my first victory here - heh heh," you grin evilly. You tightly grip your new-found spear and decide what to do...

Go West, toward the grasslands.