Inspiraton

A/N: This is a writing exercise in which the identity of the two main characters are kept secret. While small details may be revealed, it should be kept vague enough so that the readers cannot discern their identity right away, if at all. So please bear with me. :)

"Your party moves toward the water, trying its best not to get too close. You try your best to keep your breathing even, though the sight of the blood red water is unnerving," the young man whispered, his voice low and intense. The people around him leaned in closer, almost to the point where they could count each and every strand of his long blue hair. "You know that drinking this water could bring you eternal youth, saving you from the clutches of Death himself. And yet... You remember that you have heard stories of things like that. Little blessings such as this always come with a price, or at least... That's what the legends say..." the young man leaned closer to the group, dark blue eyes flashing. "What is it that you will do?"

She knew it was her turn. A small smile played at her lips as she picked up the ten-sided die. Here and now, it was her game. The decision she made could destroy her party, if she chose wrong.

"I will drink the water," she announced, surprising all, save the Dungeon Master. Two cobalt eyes met as she allowed the die to fall from her fingertips. Not a sound was made as the fate of the party slowly rolled its way across the table. It seemed like an eternity, but it finally stopped.

Three.

The Dungeon Master shook his head. "Alas, your party was not meant to take the water. You walk forward to take the water for yourself, but it is a grave mistake. For the moment your hands touch the water, it curdles and turns red as blood."

Everyone seated around the table let out a collective gasp. She remained cool under these circumstances, the die back in her hand and ready to cast for a combat roll.

"A hand, no ten hands, slowly emerges from the water. The party watches its emergence in horror, wondering what it is. You stand your ground, but sooner or later, you must fight."

A cold sweat broke out on her palms. Though she knew it was only a game, she felt as if she was really there. She felt as if the lives of her party were at stake because of her foolish choice. Such was the skill of a great Dungeon Master.

"From the water you now see tendrils emerge, connected to a large, decaying body. Soon, it is not long before you see it's face, horrible, bloodied, and decaying. You ready your weapon, and..." an alarm suddenly rang. "... Snack time, everyone! Break!"

There was a collective groan. Combat was always the best part about playing the game. She allowed the die to fall from her hand as she followed her party out the door. But while everyone else moved on to the kitchen, she chose to take a detour into her own room.

Her computer dutifully turned on as she entered and took her seat. For a few moments, she simply say there, thinking, wondering what to write. She searched her mind for a stroke of inspiration, a light in the middle of her dark abyss of Writer's Block.

Then it hit her, just like it always did after she played the game. She could send her characters into a cavern, where a pool of water awaited them. The main heroine could step forward and attempt to take the water, only to awaken a great evil that lay slumbering beneath the surface of the pool...

As her fingers danced over the keys, she couldn't help but smile to herself.

Inspiration could come from the strangest of places, but no matter what, she would always welcome it.