Rahx:
It takes less than a minute before you get bored and decide to have a poke through the equipment arrayed before you. You might actually have ADD, honestly. (Kalamos gives you a skeptical look and returns to typing.) Unfortunately, your skill with ordinary computers fails to translate to the bespoke machinery Chantar operates, and you soon find your investigation stymied with bafflement.
Jilladilla:
Plunged in a sea of corn, you struggle for air, light, and survival! You are tossed one way and another by physically inexplicable cornwaves for two full minutes, by the end of which you are certain you will run out of breath and suffocate here under the amber waves of grain – but then in a glorious moment your hand breaks into freedom, followed shortly by your head and torso as you haul yourself back up to see the sun and sky again. You look this way and that to get your bearings again, and realise you've somehow emerged from the corn dimension somewhere very far from your point of entrance; you are standing in the midst of what appears to be an ordinary though deserted suburb like any other in the world. The streets are empty and the swirling clouds in the sky cast an eerie, shifting light across the faces of oddly-misproportioned houses, and as you watch those clouds swirl you soon realise a gap of clear sky, centred over a spot seemingly no more than a few blocks away, which holds firmly open as the storm passes around it. You don't know exactly why, but, looking at the gap, an instinct in the back of your brain tells you you are looking at safety.
For a moment you turn around and look behind you to see where you came from, half-expecting to find the street buried in a drift of corn, but the only evidence of your passage is a mere puddle of corncobs covering perhaps four square feet and a couple inches deep.
Tack:
You run! You are vaguely aware that the outside people make these broad flat trails to furnish passage between their villages, so you assume you will eventually find something useful at the other end.
. . .
It turns out the trail is really long. In fact, it already seems to be getting dark out, even though you left in midmorning and you feel like you've only been running for a bit more than half an hour. You usually trust your innate sense of time implicitly, but the sun doesn't lie, right? After a bit more thought, it occurs to you that the trees along the side of the trail seem sort of familiar, even though you didn't pass any forks that might have led you to double back. You wonder if maybe you're using the trail wrong somehow?
Blood_Librarian:
Unable to locate an attic due to the mysterious and confusing concept of "being underground", you wander into the kitchen instead and locate a convenient oven. As you are trying to work out how to turn it on, though, you eventually realise that it is electric and cannot supply a direct flame. This is actually a good thing, because the local natural gas supplier has recently suffered from a minor case of apocalypse that has disrupted distribution, while Chantar's generator keeps the electric oven running, but that doesn't occur to you at the time.
blueturtle1134:
You struggle to regain consciousness, beckoned by confused voices just a few feet away.
Smoke Mirrors:
You look around and try to figure out where you are, but the answer appears to be "in the dark".
darkwarlock3:
You suddenly remember the wolf! Oh, hey, it's right there. You start to approach it, but—
OMNES:
—as Ernor's dream loses its grip on you all, the wall of darkness surrounding you is suddenly broken by the visage of a huge squirrel, ghastly, vast, and terrible! Strangely contorted by rage and by the dream-aura, it glowers malevolently as it bends down and latches onto the wolf's side with a sharp bite. At that very moment, though, Rakasas deals it a wild crack on the side of the head with his makeshift club, and all hear the crunch of shattered bone as everything suddenly flashes into light...
darkwarlock3, Smoke Mirrors, and OceanSoul:
You are all lying in what appears to be a small pile of corn, which has for some reason been placed in an ordinary suburban street. Well, ordinary to two of you; Rakasas has never seen anything like this before, but is starting to learn to roll with the unexpected. The wolf is nowhere to be seen. Though the street seems to be deserted, probably due to the unusual storm and ethereal flashing lights, Falkner (the man from the dream vision, for those of you to whom he lacked the courtesy to introduce himself) happens to spot some movement in the distance.
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Topic: Cataclysm (Read 9316 times)