Hall of Infinite Doors
You are not a fisherperson. There are people in the tribe who gain sustenance from fish, but they gain little respect and must mooch and steal from others for the materials they need to practice their craft. You are a hunter; the memories of hunting fill your head. You know how to stalk and pounce and kill, and know that the river pools and streamlets are a rich source of game. You travel down the bank, pausing at every clump of bushes or weeds to look for berries or roots, but finding nothing other than some fragrant-smelling savory herbs, you continue until you spy the gold-colored curve of a cold, riverside pool as it sparkles in the glow of sunset.
Even before you reach the pool you know you've made a good choice. You can see several long-legged water birds up to their knees in the pool, dipping long beaks into the water to catch and defour small fish and insects. Several frogs, including one large, ancient-looking toad, sit by the side of the water hiding in clumps of grass and snapping up dragonflies, and a gnarled, bony old turtle is sunk up to its neck in the stones of the poolside, enjoying the calm swirl of the eddying waters and waiting for things to grow dark and calm enough for it to move. You sneak to the side of the pool, relying on instincts your body remembers well and memories you can access without effort. You toss a sharpened piece of flint with accuracy you did not know you posessed straight into the body of a tall water bird, sending the others scattering in a flurry of flight. You collect the body, though sadly have frightened away the frogs, and capture the terrified, slow-moving turtle as it tries to amble into the stream to be washed away from you. You calm the bird's shuddering by crushing its head, and offer the same to the turtle, making sure to do it carefully in order to preserve the amber-and-green shell for use as barter or decoration.
You gather your prizes with a sense of elation in your skin and are wrapping them up when you hear it: a low, guttural snapping snarl and the sound of a heavy body among the reeds. When you turn, you at first see nothing, but soon the movement catches your eye and you freeze. The creature moving through the tall grass is like nothing you've seen before. It's a massive green-scaled prehistoric monstrosity of a creature, a hideous reptile that resembles some sort of primordial cross between a crocodile and Satan afflicted with gigantism. Its beady black eyes are focused on you, and you can see it open and close its mouth in anticipation. You weren't the only hunter here today.
You have no idea how fast this thing can run. Its scaly hide is thick, but you know from experience that every beast has a weak point. You know a single chomp from those massive jaws could take one of your limbs clean off, and even with your primal strength you know you can't possibly out-wrestle it. It looks like something out of a nightmare, and is getting closer and hungrier every second.
Even before you reach the pool you know you've made a good choice. You can see several long-legged water birds up to their knees in the pool, dipping long beaks into the water to catch and defour small fish and insects. Several frogs, including one large, ancient-looking toad, sit by the side of the water hiding in clumps of grass and snapping up dragonflies, and a gnarled, bony old turtle is sunk up to its neck in the stones of the poolside, enjoying the calm swirl of the eddying waters and waiting for things to grow dark and calm enough for it to move. You sneak to the side of the pool, relying on instincts your body remembers well and memories you can access without effort. You toss a sharpened piece of flint with accuracy you did not know you posessed straight into the body of a tall water bird, sending the others scattering in a flurry of flight. You collect the body, though sadly have frightened away the frogs, and capture the terrified, slow-moving turtle as it tries to amble into the stream to be washed away from you. You calm the bird's shuddering by crushing its head, and offer the same to the turtle, making sure to do it carefully in order to preserve the amber-and-green shell for use as barter or decoration.
You gather your prizes with a sense of elation in your skin and are wrapping them up when you hear it: a low, guttural snapping snarl and the sound of a heavy body among the reeds. When you turn, you at first see nothing, but soon the movement catches your eye and you freeze. The creature moving through the tall grass is like nothing you've seen before. It's a massive green-scaled prehistoric monstrosity of a creature, a hideous reptile that resembles some sort of primordial cross between a crocodile and Satan afflicted with gigantism. Its beady black eyes are focused on you, and you can see it open and close its mouth in anticipation. You weren't the only hunter here today.
You have no idea how fast this thing can run. Its scaly hide is thick, but you know from experience that every beast has a weak point. You know a single chomp from those massive jaws could take one of your limbs clean off, and even with your primal strength you know you can't possibly out-wrestle it. It looks like something out of a nightmare, and is getting closer and hungrier every second.