Campaign
Okay then, there's not much happening, so let's just do some rolls to see if anything interesting happens and if not skip to the morning.
Campaign, Ike!
Listen for trouble. Smell the air.
All is quiet, until the early hours of the morning, a time when the sky is a deep dark blue that has just started becoming lighter, the stars visible through the hole in the tent dimming. A series of low rumbling noises, a few minutes apart, coming from the way your group came from, like distant drums echoing across the road. Nothing else happens though, so whatever it is, it's probably not an immediate threat to you.
Nikolai's first instinct is to try to fight the spider. But you can't fight everything. Well you can, but sometimes it's better not to. It didn't work out so well last time he tried to fight a giant robotic thing on foot. Why fight the nightmarish dream spider when he can potentially have it as a mount?
Try to befriend and tame the spider. Hold out my hand to it....Share the flame. Still be prepared to dodge.
You hold out your hand. The spider leans backwards, ready to take a step back, but stops. The flame bounces around in your hand, as if it is trying to move or make your hand move. The metal creature stares at you for a long time, the world shifting around you, decaying, turning into dust and darkness. It moves towards you, towards your hand. You feel like you should move but you don't. The fire jumps out of your hand, forming a thin small dome. The dome begins shimmering as the spider's mouth crashes against it and tries to bite through it.
Your feelings have changed now. You want to run away but for some reason you can't bring your legs to move. Your hand starts to become wrinkled, breaking apart, cracks forming in it as if it is parched earth. You can see red blood through the cracks, but you are not bleeding and you feel no pain, only cold. You try to move it away but it moves very slowly, leaving ghostly images behind it that seem to move differently, making gestures, fists, breaking apart. Everything seems to be moving more slowly, the world getting dimmer. Whatever is influencing your hand stops, and you can move it again.
The flame concentrates into a ball once more and then jumps into your hand, dissolving into the cracks, the blue flame burning it but in a soothing manner, a good burn. The pain wakes you up with a startled gasp, pulling your hand away instinctively. And yet it remains. Oh, right, your damn hand. In this cramped space, Zechariah seems to have accidentally rolled over it. It's free now, but the healing in the dream seems to have been just that: a dream. Your hand still hurts. And it still looks like crap. But at least it feels a bit less crap than yesterday. And... Huh. Zechariah seems to be holding his staff in his sleep, squeezing it tightly. No, not what you think it means, he is hugging his actual staff, that thing he uses to create light.
am still sleeping
You look behind you, at the man calling your name. He is walking towards you, his tails swishing from side to side, his multicoloured fiery mane trailing behind him, one of his golden limbs extended towards your face. He is so colourful, so radiant, so blindingly bright. That warm pleasant feeling inside you is starting to turn into annoyance. You close your eyes more tightly, trying to keep the light away, but it's no use. You're already awake. The light coming through the hole in the tent saw to that.
<Goodmorning girl. Feels nice waking up with you.>You open your eyes to see a shaft of light coming through the hole in the tent, sand occasionally trickling inside whenever the wind picks up. The sky has started turning a light blue outside, but the air is still cool. Must be early in the morning.
<Yeah, I know the feeling.>You're quite certain that's a new hole. The entire tent seems different. Smaller, thinner, with a few extra holes.
Nikolai looks awake too. Must have woken up earlier than you.
If asleep--rest until a disturbance occurs
If awake/wakened--notice the severity of the storm, gauge our capability of withstanding it if we're to venture now, and then mention the light I saw during the storm and its general direction as the next goal for our journey.
It is early in the morning and the storm seems to have passed, as you can tell by the blue skies you can see outside. There's a cool morning breeze, but that's nothing to worry about.
You remind your teammates of the light you saw last night and propose that investigating the location of said light should be your next objective. You reason that it's only a small detour towards the direction you are heading anyway, so you might as well check it out.
Alan, having forgotten overnight what they were doing yet again, decides to toast some marshmallows. He sees no downside to doing this inside an enclosed airspace made up of a mattress fort.
First things first, let's get me some bags of marshmallows up in this here fort!
You spend the first minute of you waking up trying to shake the sand away from your head, remove it from your nostrils and cough and spit it out of your mouth. The sand and dirt seems to have formed a small mound around you and your little fort, but fortunately it has not collapsed... yet. It seems there is a similar situation with the tent, the stones that were around it being obscured by a mound of sand. It also seems... smaller, somehow.
You summon a couple of bags of marshmallows that conveniently help you free your body from under the mattress.
You can't breathe through one of your nostrils and your nose is runny. It makes breathing through it a bit harder and more annoying.
Poll
15 (42.9%)
Author
Topic: Special People: Mechanical Syndrome (Read 1148771 times)