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[Naturegirl1999]

it’s less wanting to go in there and more not wanting to fail the mayor

[King Zultan]

"You know there's a chance she's dead, but I guess knowing she's dead is better than thinking she could be being held captive by someone."

[wierd]

The sun had long since set, and the stars were out.

Jack was feeling a bit restless in the strange environment, despite being tired from building the shelter and walking all day.

The notion that it would not be long before they made it to a large lake was not lost to him, nor was the reality that Mama would be hungry again in the morning, with nothing to eat in sight. Plune had not really eaten either, and that bothered him.  He knew that for the most part, his travel companions felt that local edibles were in fact 'inedible', but he, Mama, and Plune were another matter entirely.  While he did not have seeds for anything useful or tasty, he did have that jar full of fine spores under the mushroom cap he had kept for the purpose.

He put a few small twigs into his tiny fire to keep it lit while he shuffled about in the darkness, just within the dim circle of its light, while he rummaged around in the soft, slightly moist earth until he found what he sought: Half-burried in muck and leaves, the decaying corpse of a tree that had fallen over.

He could feel Mama's eyes on his back as he worked, huffing and puffing in the dark to get it broke free and loose from the damp soil. He figured he would have some explaining to do, as she was sure to not have any comprehension of his work until he could explain it to her; Growing food for the morning was not something that would normally ever enter her understanding of the world. (Food simply grew, you looked for it, and you ate it when you found it. That's it.)  To be fair, he himself was rather new to the idea, and instead had been subsisting much the same way recently. Prior to having to move unexpectedly last fall, he had survived with limited plantings and caretaking of food plants, nurtured the old fashioned way, then dried, or canned in ceramic crockery. He mused about how this was a game-changer for him, as he dipped a finger into the jar, collected some spores on a finger tip, then drug it along the damp and earthy length of the half-decayed log.

Carefully, he directed magic into the old mass of wood, guiding the germination and growth of the off-tan powder as it transitioned to white fuzz, then into tiny pins, and then into fresh mushrooms.  The log was not very productive before practically crumbling apart.

At the very least, there would be something for the morning.

With a subtle hint of a smile, he plucked a few choice specimens from the log, collected a suitable stick from the brush he had gathered earlier to feed his fire with, and made a long skewer to toast them with, before setting it just at the edge of the small fire he was using.

Little Plune looked a bit forlorn, sitting in the leaves near mama under the brush-heap. He made a wordless gesture to the mushroom skewer, indicating she could help herself to it.  He figured that if Mama decided that despite being full from eating some of the bread, she still wanted
to eat, there were plenty more to toast up. He was much more interested in getting some useful tools made, in anticipation of reaching the lake: Fishing pole, Line, Bobber, Sinker, and Hook. A still green and springy branch of inedible cedar wood supplied the first, some carefully stripped (to avoid the thorns) green briar supplied the second, a chunk of decayed wood the third, a nice round pebble the fourth-- but despite looking intently, could not source a good material to make the last with.  A bit of deer antler would be choice, but there were none to find in the tiny circle of firelight.

Probably wouldn't have time to carve one out anyway.

Sitting by the fire, in the firelight, small shavings of wood came off the shaft one strip at a time; the spine covered vine was stripped, then twisted into cordage; and a small round groove was chiseled into the rock for the cord to be tied around it.

Mama had indeed plodded out of their shelter to see why he was up this late. She was generally pleased with his industriousness with the mushrooms, but was more doubtful about the fishing pole. Jack was too, but he rolled with it anyway; It was better to be prepared, just in case the lake WASN'T a festering dead abyss of rotting scum and dead fish.  Given the state of the forest, he did not have high hopes, but he might be pleasantly surprised-- and if so, he would be mostly ready.

Still needed a fish hook. He'd keep an eye out for suitable raw materials on the way tomorrow.

Absently, he nibbled at one of the mushrooms, handed the rest of it to Mama, then rubbed her ears lovingly.  Little Plune had taken some of the food while he was collecting materials, and had long since gone back to bed.

Sleep sounded like a great idea. He was exhausted. Mama agreed, and made it known she felt he shouldn't have gotten up at all (and wanted him to stay put, since he was soft and warm).

He kicked in the fire to snuff it out, then the both of them nestled back into the brush pile.

[The Centipede]

Linea's sleeping face as the fire dimmed. Her white hair peeking out of her sleeping bag. Dixie observed it as she sat there, her chest and chin pressed onto a thin mattress draping the right-side root of Linea's natural seat.

Dixie's head tilted rightways down to her crossed arms, still observing Linea. Now that she thought of it, she can't remember the last time she saw Linea smile in the few days they've been adventuring together, but she's still so cute.

Dixie faces straight down, hiding her face in her arms. Her cheeks would appear to be slightly reddened under sufficient light. Does she have a thing for people with white hair?

She sighs, and nods off shortly after, still in her black garments and leather armor.

[wierd]

**GM ACTIVITY DETECTED**
(I am now hosting this game.)


Some time after the Western team settled in for a restless night of attempted sleep, they are all roused from their beds by a sudden and unexplained stampede of wild animals bolting through the undergrowth, and away from the lake.

The disturbance is over nearly as soon as it began, with it lasting a mere 5 to 10 seconds.  Just long enough for the animals to bolt through, jump over or past people, knock over propped up carry bags, and make a general scene, before bolting into the darkness of the night, toward the opposite direction of the lake.

The tremors feel a bit stronger.

[The Centipede]

Dixie was stirred, grumbling, and then shot up fully awake when she'd realized. The Dagger of Destiny appears on her right hand as she picks up her fur-lined buckler named "Persistent Primate". Amidst the scattered crowds of animals running to the direction directly away from the lake, a panicked deer charges straight towards Dixie, perpendicular to Linea's position. As it jumps up one of the thick roots of the tree, Dixie also leaps up and stabs the deer by the neck.

[Slyph]

For Linea, it was indeed a rude awakening. One would be forgiven to think that the elf would draw her knife and curse anyone or anything dared to disturb her rest, but surprisingly she kept her cool and watched the ordeal unfolded before her; they were in hostile territory and this was something not unexpected.

"Did you see anything unusual?" she inquired, the orc who just regrouped with them shrugged.

"Something must have scared them off. Whatever it is, it's not from here."

"Not from here, eh? How can you be so sure? I am not sure which one of us is lacking enough sleep to spew a correct commentary about the gravity of the situation."

"What a mouthful! I see a pack of mandibeast coming this way. There! Happy now?"


Despite the blatant sarcasm, Edwarg had his shotgun locked and loaded, and while the duo was on their guard, one of the horned animals bolted towards them. Linea stepped aside to dodge the incoming charge, but someone intercepts the stampeding beast by lunging toward it and... let herself got flailed away by the momentum. That was a lousy stunt, unnecessary and dangerous.

"You okay?"

[wierd]

The deer (A fat female doe) continues its run several paces, before collapsing to the ground at the far edge of the camp.

It thrashes and kicks violently, as it tries and fails to stand several times.

The Dagger of Destiny initially cleaves to the flesh of the deer, but is dislodged about halfway on its trip to the edge of camp.

[The Centipede]

Dixie was sat on the grass, clutching her right shoulder, having got impacted nd bruised by the deer as she stabbed it. Nothing she couldn't heal, she figured, but maybe it's too early to test those limits.
To think Linea wasn't really in any danger anyway as she saw her preemptively move away. All of Dixie's overreaction, for nothing.

Dixie smiles at Linea, "I'm fine.”
That smile quickly fades away as she sighs, healing her shoulder with magic while her right hand is gesturing as if she's tugging some sort of invisible string... and the Dagger of Destiny whips back onto her waiting hand, and disappears just as fast.

[wierd]

Both Jack and Mama were interrupted from a nice, rewarding sleep by the sound of flapping wings, and clomping hooves, as a group of animals tore through the underbrush and away from the lake.  It took a moment of resolve to overpower the impulse to get up and run along with them; Such disturbances were out of character for wild creatures, except when there is a large, massive and communal threat to the environment, like fire, flood, a massive storm, or something similar.  Given the situation, he wanted to know what he was dealing with before taking any overt action.

He sniffed at the air.. The only smoke was that lingering from the campfire earlier..

He felt the air..  It was gentle and mostly still. A bit humid, and heavy. Did not feel like rain or storm.

He listened intently..  Flash flooding had a unique sound, and he strained to listen...

He did not hear any trees crashing, brush piling up, sloshing from mud being moved... or anything that would indicate a sudden flood, but he did hear an animal flopping and falling down over and over at the edge of camp.

Mama nuzzled him warily-- She wanted to know what this was all about too, and if they needed, or should, also flee. He rubbed the side of that beautiful face tenderly, before answering honestly-- He did not know, but did not think so.

In the back of his mind, he was aware of some limited conversation between people, and recognition settled in quietly. It was Dixie and Linea. They were probably asking each other about the disturbance, same as he and Mama were, just in their own way. His attention returned to the shuffling and stumbling of hooves nearby. Mama acknowledged hearing it, but was still put off by the sudden stampede, and the implications that had. He did his best to calm her, and let her know he was going to investigate, then come right back.  She hesitated in letting him up, but finally acquiesced.

Grabbing his bag and the 'frosty stick', Jack moves slowly, and deliberately to the source of the stumbling sounds.

The scent of blood is thick.

[Slyph]

Dixie smiles at Linea, "I'm fine.”

"Right you are," she said without returning the smile and looked at the young woman with an expression that basically questioning her intelligence.

"Anyway, you should ask Edwarg if you need fixing up."

The orc in question was picking up a knocked kettle and pour whatever was left into his tankard. While leaning against the tree, his left hand fished for his pocket watch, wincing not because of the undesirable timetable but because his tankard was full of coffee dregs.

"They were running away from the lake. Any idea why is that?"

"Beats me... I know animals run away from mountains to escape eruption but that lake ain't one. Besides..."

"Besides what?"

"Come to think of it, we have a friendly giant spider roaming around. That fella alone might not enough to shake the whole forest awake, but what if five... or seven?

"And emerged from the lake to run amok, like Nisseag?"

"Who knows? Or if we tone down the mythology part, it was just  mandibeast, and wendigos teaming up to scour the forest."

Linea gripped her bow tightly, both notions obviously didn't sound like good news.

"The fact that we know very little of what we are up against is upsetting."

"I know, right? And since we are here for a rescue mission, and no thanks to the villagers being uncooperative, it feels like we are constantly in the dark."

Both CSA operatives decided to spend the rest of the night sitting in front of a rekindled campfire, with weapons loaded and/or within the reach. One could definitely say it was a pitiful, boring, and pointless duty but both agreed to not take any chance.

As the time passed, the situation became less and less tense, Linea tried to avoid boredom by scribing her journal, which after a while, she fell asleep anyway.

[wierd]

Homing in on the shuffling and clamoring sounds, Jack found the source easily enough. The blood all over made it hard to miss.

His heart sank taking in the scene.  The damage was well beyond what he could even dream of fixing, and he hated seeing animals die. Especially healthy ones, like this one was.  All he could do would be to ease its passing.

Cautiously, he approached until he could see more clearly in the dark midnight gloom of the shadowed forest floor, and then try to reach out for the poor beast.

Terror, pain, and light-headedness spun around him and threatened to crush him like an avalanche, as the dying creature's mind rushed into his consciousness. Bitter irony, fear, and a strong desire to not die were the dominant colors, tinged with regret, and confusion about Jack's intruding thoughts.

Jack comported himself as best he could, and extended well-rehearsed feelings of calm and benevolence, expressing sorrow at being unable to heal the injuries, and sympathy for the pain and terror. He begged the creature to stop struggling, and save its strength for a calm, and gentle rest.

Images of dark ripples on the surface of a moonlit lake swirled, mingled with impressions of looming danger. A sloshing splash as water sprayed up suddenly, revealing the sudden appearance of a giant, slimy and glistening mouth catching a nearby friend that had dared to drink at the water's edge, then more of the creature emerging, and flopping with thundering and shaking of the ground with alarming speed for something not really made for land. 

The impetus to run, to flee from the 'hungry mouth that comes out at night' overrode all his pleas for calm as the deer tried once more to stand and run, before falling down again, the dizziness, fatigue, and feelings of deathly chill from the bleeding gaining renewed strength.

He gently placed the palm of his hand on the creature's shoulder, then hugged it close to warm it with his chest, why broadcasting the intent for the action as best he could. The incredulity and curiosity of the creature intensified; It wanted to know why he cared (and expressed its discomfort and anxiety with being held.)

Jack sighed.  Explaining in full would take too long, and even then, most creatures simply could not understand anyway. His reasons for being and acting the way he did were too... Abstract. It was a form of thinking that they were not equipped to handle. He thought for a moment, then decided not to even try to explain, but rather, to share his desires, and make connections that way, in lieu of a true and proper explanation.

He stroked the deer's cheek, and pressed his forehead against hers, keeping eye contact, while retaining the gentle (but still restraining) embrace, before letting his mind bloom into a phantasia of brightly colored greenery, flowering plants and trees. The singing of birds, humming of bees, and the gentle rush of a light breeze mingled with the scent of flowers and fragrant grasses and herbs, as the sun shown warmly and bright.

It was the ideal image he had for how a healthy wild place should be bloomed in his mind: Bright and flowering shadowed canopy beckoning, and whispering in the blood to come run and play beneath its branches, with a weedy meadow choked with wild herbs, flowers and grasses; and a feeling that everything is right with the world. Food and safety in abundance.

He mingled with fantastic mirage with all his hopes, dreams, and desires-- It is what he wanted for all living things. He was a creature born with the power to change the world, even if only a little at a time, and this was what his heart desired; One does not need a reason to want something. One just does.

The image faded, replaced with sadness and somber regret; He could not give this to her-- There was nothing he could do to change that. Only comfort her passing.

Her response confused him terribly though.  A notion of "How did you endure/survive/not-change? (like the others)" with "Thought you (those like you) were all gone now", mingled with a confusing image of an unfamiliar place filled with trees that had been bent and shaped by human hands into huts and religious totem imagery flashed suddenly, rapidly changing to a scene filled with sprawling roots, wicked thorn brambles, bones, shredded clothing in rotting heaps and an all-encompassing sense of throbbing head-pain, confusion, and a feeling of slow draining death--- before being replaced with the beast's real sensations once more, as death's icy fingers cloyed at its failing mind. She was tired, and death was near. She could not answer anything else.

Weakly, she acknowledged and thanked him for his closeness and warmth, then asked one more thing of him-- She wanted to be in "the good place" he had shown her, one more time.

He accepted, and focused his thoughts as intensely and vividly as he could, drenching the connection with the imaginary world of his deepest fantasies; His idea of what a perfect place should be, and wrapped her in it like a warm blanket.

And then the connection ended.

She was gone.


He closed his eye, and huffed a breath, then let the deer's limp body sag to the forest floor.

At least he had some inkling of what the stampede was from now, but the price for that knowledge was damnably high.

Rousing himself from where he had sat down near the now-dead deer, he surveyed the carnage, then tracked the trail of blood back across the camp. He was intent to find what had done such a grievous injury.

[King Zultan]

(Just gonna say I'm still interested in playing this.)

[wierd]

(Then by all means, keep playing.

[King Zultan]

(I was in a second group that had decided to go to the lake, but the other two haven't posted in a while so I'm not sure what to do, the only thing I can think of is to say we go separated at some point, but that'd leave me wondering the woods alone at night.)