MISSION: THE DIE IS CAST, PART 2

[ximilian]

● ● ● M I S S I O N   1 1 . 2

THE LEDE • WHEN THE TOUGH GET GOING • THE GOING GETS TOUGH • THE HATCHET • FYI

// INTRO. THE LEDE  

Dawn breaks over the court in grey skies, clouds drooping sadly over the horizon, as Finn (and whoever he has managed to get to train with him that day) arrives at the Knights’ Guild… and meets the beaming face of Jun Shortaxe. It is clear that the depressing weather is not dampening his spirits.

JUN

I’ve got great news!

His voice booms brightly over the Guild’s courtyard, but he seems to think better of the volume as his next words are quieter, only for the Orbers to hear.

JUN

We’ve found a lead. Alena, the Great Mulgrowe, and I. I hear they ran into some of your party, too, and so they were eager to help as well. Anyway — between the three of us, it wasn’t too difficult. Gather everyone on the plains outside Harsby, we’ll meet there tomorrow morning.

And indeed, when the next day comes with the sun finally peeking out behind the veil of clouds, it is not only Jun waiting for the Orbers but also Alena Ironspear, decked in full armour, and the Great Mulgrowe, hooded and deep in conversation with a bird.

When it seems that all Orbers are present, Jun urges his horse forward and raises his hand in greeting.

JUN

Well met, everyone! Some time ago, I was tasked by one of your own to find the heirloom that we nearly had in our grasp years ago. All of us had determined to never try to find the thing again… but if it’s to help my best friend, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do! So we set to work. And we believe we have a good lead.

Next to him, Alena nods.

ALENA

Yes. I have consulted Rahiel, the Saint I serve, and the nature around South Naelor is unsettled. The stones of Fort Gorlouch groan in pain, feeling an evil that has not been there before.

The Great Mulgrowe nods below his hood, eyes slowly opening. He pulls back the fabric to reveal the scaled countenance of a dragonborn druid.

THE GREAT
MULGROWE

The creatures speak too. They tell me they fear what resides in South Naelor and I do not blame them. To give them back their lands, we must seek this presence out.

When next Jun speaks, it is with a gravitas that he seemed to lack before.

JUN

So. That is where we’re going to head. Now… some of you may have heard that South Naelor is the former home of Ellia Roundtree. Whether we will encounter her there… I don’t know. You have given us hope that if she does have the heirloom, she didn’t do what she did out of malice. But just in case… be on guard, all of you. It will take several days for us to get there, and because a group this size would attract too much attention, we will go as three separate groups. Those of you who want to ride along the roads, you’ll come with me. Those who know the wilderness, go with the Great Mulgrowe.

ALENA

And the rest of you, you’re with me. I shall teleport us to Rahiel’s temple on the southern coast, and from there, we will journey to the Fortress.

JUN

Right! So get ready everyone… and let’s go hunt an heirloom!

Hopefully you were ready to leave at once, as the former members of the Songbird Brigade don’t wait for long — it is within the next few moments that the group is split up into three, with each party heading off to their separate directions.

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// PART I.WHEN THE TOUGH GET GOING  

After some quick decisions on who to go with, and some even quicker good-byes, the groups are all ready to go — and so, with Jun, Alena, and the Great Mulgrowe wishing each other good luck, they each take their newly-formed party and get ready to travel: Jun by the roads, the Great Mulgrowe out in the wilderness, and Alena with the aid of Rahiel’s temples and teleportation.

1.0   Those following Jun Shortaxe will find that the roads that lead from Alydhion to South Naelor are well maintained, so whether you are on horseback or have chosen to put your feet to good use by walking, there won’t be too many rocks in your shoe by the end of the day. As you travel, you may hear Jun humming to himself, in a tone that’s actually not bad:

Close the door,
Follow the road

Rich or poor,
Your troubles unload

The path will take you
Stronger it will make you
The adventure that awaits!

So close the door,
Follow the road

Rich or poor,
Sing with me this ode

To whatever the fates
have in store for you!

The tone of the travelling song is catchy, and perhaps you'll want to join in (and learn another song that the illustrious commander of the Ximilia has composed).

As the road is long and darkness falls quickly in the evening, you are required to make camp — so find a good spot on the side of the road, set up your campfire, and spread your bedding around… or, if you’re not a fan of staying under the open sky and watching the stars, you can always try and find a thicket of trees to stay under, or a cave where you’ll be safe from any sudden downpours.

2.0   The journey through the Forests of Gha’har throws you into the middle of wilderness, away from the comfort of roads: instead, the Great Mulgrowe will lead his group through thick bushes, over fallen tree trunks, and under the canopies of the tall, old trees of the forest whose presence seems almost oppressive. There are moments when you may look around and feel as if everyone around you has disappeared; moments when the trees rustle above you with a quiet, menacing sound… only for it to be broken by the trill of a bird, or perhaps a druid friend among your party, settling the trees once more.

Eventually, you will hear it: the unmistakable sound of water. From behind the trees, you see the river gleaming in the sunlight like a silver snake, twisting this way and that as it flows towards Naelori Lake. This means that you have finally made it out of the Forests, and traveling by the riverside is a nice change in scenery… at least until you’re required to cross the river in order to make it to South Naelor. Well — better be ready to get your feet wet, or figure out an alternate way of crossing the river with dry shoes!

3.0   Whereas Jun and the Great Mulgrowe lead their respective groups immediately towards South Naelor, Alena takes hers back to Harsby; the reason for that becomes apparent when right outside the borough, a beautiful temple surrounded by flowering vines comes into view. It is the temple of Rahiel, and Alena explains to the group that she is only able to teleport so many people from one temple to another — and the one closest to the ruins of South Naelor lies at the mouth the Gulf of Ifyln.

It is almost as soon as everyone has stepped inside the temple, its walls decorated with paintings of the Seven Sisters, that Alena claps her hands together and a golden light envelopes you… and the next moment, you smell the sea air, and feel the cool breeze blowing your hair. When you open your eyes, feeling a little disoriented, you see the steep cliffs that line the coast from the open temple.

The cliffs don’t persist for long, though, and Alena quickly leads the group to the shore, where a small ship awaits them: just large enough to fit all of them below deck, you best hope you’ve got those among you who know how to raise the sails and steer the ship through the tides… and lower the anchor when it’s time to stop for the night. At least you’ll have a cosy rest in the ship’s cabins, or on the deck watching the stars.

However, don’t get too attached to your little ship: soon enough the river becomes too shallow, requiring you to make the rest of the way on foot.

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// PART II.THE GOING GETS TOUGH  

However, the journey to S. Naelor isn’t without its challenges. The skies above might seem to darken one day, the heavy clouds splitting at their seams to let out a torrential downpour. You and your group might also stumble into the wrong place at the wrong time, not uncommon for many parties that travel through (and across) the boroughs. Whether by foot or on horseback, it would be wise to keep your senses alert and your weapon close. A battle of some nature is never too far away.

4.0   Past the crest of gently rolling hills you might hear the sudden rapid stomping of hooves against dirt as a party of bandit orcs on horseback appear, their shrill cries meant to scare and alarm you. Seek a place for cover or meet them with full force, weapons at the ready — if you’re traveling with Jun Shortaxe, he won’t be far behind, expression steeled into one of strength and determination. Within the thick, lush foliage of the Forests of Gha’har, if you’re traveling with the Great Mulgrowe, you may encounter winged bat-like creatures in the trees that squawk and cry as they fly out to attack you. Mind their sharp claws and sharper teeth — and anyone with the ability to communicate with creatures might want to utilize their skills to placate the flurry. Finally, steering the small ship on the river past Rahiel’s temple may seem quiet at first, but past the temple’s walls and emerging from the Gulf of Ifyln, winged kelpies appear to have caught wind of your group’s presence. Alena Ironspear will fearlessly lead the charge but she’ll need your help to keep the winged kelpies at bay and continue your journey northwards to Fort Gorlouch.

5.0   Along the way, whether through grassy plains and grey skies, the darkness of trees and thick foliage, or the sandy coast and the salty ocean waters, some of your party will experience some obstacles and immunities specific to their chosen race and form. Unnatural phenomena and sudden spots of darkness and flame appear to pop up like a presence following close behind.

If you suddenly become shrouded in a strange, thick fog, you’ll hear haunting voices and see visions of malevolent creatures all around you. You might try and swing your weapon forward as the voices command you to defeat every last creature trying to crowd in on you — but only your human party members will see what you can’t and will need to snap you out of the presence currently trying to control your mind, persuading you to attack your own friends and fellow crew.

While there is no shortage of dangers to be found no matter what path you travel, it might seem that there is something intentionally challenging your journey through South Naelor. While it is easy enough to take up your weapon against a stray bandit or wild creature (to some degree, anyway), it is much harder to cast off an avalanche of boulders from the nearby cliff edges, or to catch a fallen tree trunk that aims to block you and your path. Call on the orc-kind in your party to help, as their superior strength will allow them to swat boulders away like flies, or catch heavy tree trunks in mid-fall.

Some of you might find when you try to start a campfire, either during the day or the evening, for warmth or for cooking, that the flames might appear to grow hotter and larger than usual. Keep the fire going for too long and you’ll be (un)pleasantly surprised by the sudden voracious appetite the flame has for the measly kindle you have collected. It spreads and seems to grow into a predatory form that can only be challenged by those with an immunity to fire. Your tiefling companions will be able to tame and put out the fire before it does any more damage than singe your bedroll and turn your dinner to charcoal.

In the evening when the last of the daylight has disappeared past the horizon, the darkness may feel thicker, even blacker. For most of you it will seem difficult, almost impossible to see; you won’t even be able to see your hands before you. Only the dwarves in your group, possessing dark vision, will be able to decipher your surroundings and guide you to a safe place to wait out the darkness before it passes. (And thankfully, like a passing shadow, it won’t last for too long.)

Even your Brigade leaders appear to be having difficulty at moments. It will be more important than ever to chip in when you can and keep your fellow team members afloat as you trek through this perilous part of the journey towards the fortress. But one thing is clear at least: you’re getting closer.

6.0   It isn’t difficult to guess that the path to South Naelor is one less traveled — the dirt road is crude and beaten down by wagon wheels, hoof-prints, and feet but there isn’t much else around for miles. Aside from the random attacks from bandits and hungry creatures, and the strange happenings, there are also the natural elements to contend with.

Windstorms, rainstorms, and the changes in temperature (generally warmer in the day, cooler during evenings) are common in this part of the land being situated between the ocean waters and too far away from the shelter of Ffuren and the Jolnora Peaks. The plains experience heavy monsoons of rain at times, and with trees so far and few between it can get cold in the nights. The tides can rise, taking in a large part of the beach by the coastline, making it too easy to be swept into the water if one is not careful enough. Rain isn’t uncommon in the Forests of Gha’har either, and may require brief moments of shelter under the large leaves of the trees to escape getting soaked. The best thing to do during these moments is to find a cave or shelter of some sort and wait it out, catch up on some sleep, or once again go over your plans for when you arrive at Fort Gorlouch.

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// PART III.THE HATCHET  

They say that it’s more about the journey than the destination, but sometimes it really is a relief to arrive where you want to be. The gates to South Naelor appear on the horizon in the form of long stone ramparts and large towers. Only ... these gates appear to be in serious need of repair, the walls partially broken, chunks of stone missing, and wooden posts hacked in half, leaving crude sharpened points directed at the sky. S. Naelor appears to be a court that had once seen better and brighter days, and it isn't hard to think that the court of Alydhion itself might one day see a future like this one. It is unclear whether this once majestic court had always been in decline or if this is a more recent event. Whatever the case may be, there’s only one way to find out … it’s time to ride forward.

7.0   The travels might begin to feel like they’re taking a toll on you but you and your party finally arrive — and in mostly good spirits, too. South Naelor as it stands feels nothing like the court of Alydhion, which seems so vibrant and alive by comparison. If anything, it is a court now mostly in ruin, an artifact in the history of this world. Over the centuries, nature has reclaimed some of the built structures, and rivers have carved wide canals through the land, connecting to the Gulf of Ifyln. Without needing to be told by your former Songbird Brigade leader, you might already begin to feel the prickle of goosebumps along your skin, or the hair rise at the back of your neck. It’s that sensation of expecting something dangerous that will keep you alert as the three groups converge just before Fort Gorlouch. The Great Mulgrowe bows his head in Alena and Jun’s direction, and Jun nods, opening his mouth as though to address the crew at large.

But just before he can speak, deep and guttural growls fill the quiet air from somewhere within the old fortress walls followed by the sudden blinking of bright light as though there are doors opening and closing to let these unwanted guests through. Claws frantically click and scratch against stone as the lanky greyish-white furred creatures, long-limbed and snarling with venomous teeth, rush out to meet the teams.

Alena’s eyes widen as she swears under her breath.

ALENA

May Rahiel help us all.

One of the patchy-furred beasts rises on its hind legs atop one of the half-battered ramparts and howls into the sky, commanding all of its brethren. One does not need to be a druid to understand their message: they mean to attack, and they mean to kill you.

THE GREAT
MULGROWE

Beware that the Dremnin do not bite you. One touch of that venom, and you forfeit your life in this realm to the unknown beyond.

Next to the Great Mulgrowe, Jun squares his shoulders, a determined look in his eyes.

JUN

Come on, have heart! We’ve faced these beasts before! Right now what’s important is that someone, anyone, makes it into the fortress to see if the heirloom is there. I’m going to stay here and fight. That’s what we promised to do, isn’t it? I'll hold them back for as long as I need to... and as long as there's life in me.

As if in response to these words, without hesitation, Alena seems to compose herself as though falling back into the old habits of their former party. She turns towards the Orbers, gripping her sword tightly in her hand.

ALENA

Come. We need to keep going.

The moment Jun hangs back to stand his ground, the Dremnin start to crowd forward, followed by all other manner of beast: some recognizable, and others that are unfamiliar, like a new kind of beast this world hasn’t seen. You’ll have to fight your way through some of these beasts to keep moving forward in search of the heirloom as Jun takes care of the brunt of it from behind.

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F Y I

• The events in this log take place during the month of February. The team will return to the station by the end of February.

• If you have questions about any of the prompts or the mission in general, please direct them HERE.

• A voting post regarding the conclusion will go up on February 10.

• And finally, your soundtrack for this log: ♪ ♪ ♪

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Comments

QUESTIONS.

[ximilian]

For any questions regarding the events or information on this log, ask them here.

[locumstudentesquire]

Can i ask for a little more info on the dremnin venom potency/effect? The GM's warning is obviously pretty dire sounding, but is it something that can theoretically be cured or slowed enough to make it back to the station, if a character got proper attention quickly enough?

[karumic]

Can the magic fog cause more personal hallucinations in non-human characters, or is it restricted to generic local monsters and such?

[softshoes]

Is it possible to obtain a sample of dremnin venom from one of the dead monsters? Yujin would be interested in helping to make an antidote (and uhhhh a less lethal but still functional poison maybe) once they get back to the station!

[heroooic]

Okay, so, when Jun became a big scary dragon what became of his sword? Did it get subsumed into his dragonflesh or could it be found among the rubble and picked up by a traumatized teenager who really wants to be able to give it back to him someday? Asking for a friend!

ORB RETRIEVAL. — CLOSED TO FINN (@heroooic) and FELIX (@swordandshield)

[ximilian]

In the chaos of the battle, monsters everywhere, it is Felix and Finn who are the first to make it over the rampart, climbing up the half-crumbled side of the fortress to make it to the inner parts that once must have housed an entire army. The growls of the monsters grow quieter the further in they go… until they come to an unassuming-looking door — except that as they move to push it open, it very much does not open.

[heroooic]

From the first snarls of the Dremnin to Jun's bracing call to arms, the fighting is a blur. Beasts and bodies -- both living and downed (not dead, Finn hoped, please not dead) -- were crowded onto the field outside the gates. It was all Finn could do to keep his head above the chaos. His mind kept darting back to Jun at the rear, holding the fight together in an act Finn felt all too sure would lead to self sacrifice if it came to it. That couldn't be in vain. They had to get the Orb.

The fighting was thick, but Finn was quick. He ducks low, skirting around the outside edge of the battle toward a particularly large gap in the fortress barricades. The rubble stood in front of it like huge steps, but Helen's armor was as light and as easy to move in as his own clothes. Finn scrabbles up the rubble, leaping between them like large stepping stones before dropping down past the ramparts. His thoughts are with Jun, with Wei Wuxian, with Nettle, with all the friends still fighting on the other side of the gates, propelling him forward until the sounds of battle suddenly sound very far away.

Finn's breakneck pace slows as he realizes, finally, that he's very much alone.

There's the sound of shifting stones just up ahead. Okay, maybe not quite alone.

Finn rounds the stone arch, eyes widening when he sees a familiar tiefling in front of a large door. Maybe it's all the running, but his mouth suddenly seems very dry indeed.

"Felix!?" He shouts, surprised and tentatively relieved to see him. "You made it in! Is that the way?"

Before Felix can answer, or even so much as react to his presence, Finn is charging the door. No time to waste, not while the entire team were fighting for their lives out there!

NPC THREAD. — CLOSED TO ANDROMACHE (@oiorpata)

[ximilian]

In the chaos of the battle, monsters everywhere, Andy remains behind where the fighting is at its worst. It’s there, amidst the flurry of fangs and claws and steel, that the hooded figure that’d been following the group since Harsby finally reveals herself. With a flick of her wrist, the tiefling warlock sends a Dremnin that’d been charging towards Andy flying back. The stranger holds her hands up a second later, and the air around them shimmers like a glittering sea. The fighting beyond the barrier becomes a dull and distant rumble.

“I need to speak with you.”

[oiorpata]

The beast goes soaring through the air, and rather than watching it land, Andy turns towards the source. There's vague recognition, from a tavern she thinks, but she's been to so many here she can't quite be sure even without her usual alcohol assist to botch the memories.

There's a few moments pause, where she keeps still and cautious, but not worried - old careless habits with too much festering irritations in her soberness to be concerned about self-preservation when she usually isn't to begin with, even on a regular day. She spares another second to take in the air, the way the sound muffles.

"Okay." Even without the barrier, it's not like she's going to argue. She's been on enough of these missions now to know this could be important. "About what?"

kazuma asogi | ota | 🎵 on the road again 🎶 with jun shortaxe

[karumic]

[ 1.0 | a ]

[The day they set out, Kazuma finally resolves to attempt his personal mission, with a twist: he's already said his (very obvious) lie, and so now he's resolved to say nothing else at all for the 24 hours required to complete the task. That still counts as speaking only lies, doesn't it? He sure hopes it does! Regardless, he's a lot more practiced at staying silent than he is at overtly lying, so this feels like a more comfortable compromise.

For him, anyway. For you? Hope you like charades! For his own convenience, Kazuma won't be initiating conversation much on this day (and anybody unfamiliar with him may simply mistake him for a quiet brooding type, but so it goes), but any question asked of him will receive only a sharp gesture, a wordless shake of his head, or--if the topic is a bit more complicated than that--he's found a small notebook and quill somewhere, and is willing to write down simple responses if need be.

Yes, this is a pain in the ass for everyone involved. At least it will only last for 24 hours.]

[ 1.0 | b ]

[Only a day or two into the journey, Kazuma wakes up to find his pocketwatch gone.

It's not that he needs a pocketwatch, necessarily, but this one in particular was given to him by Mikotoba for Christmas--while they were both on the station, which means it will likely be impossible to replace. Not that he would even want it replaced--it's the principle of the thing, that Mikotoba would be thoughtful enough to gift him something like that, and embossed with the Asogi crest. Yet another thing Yujin has done for him that he didn't have to, and now Kazuma's gone and fucking lost it.

In the grand scheme of things, it isn't that big of a deal. Kazuma hasn't even had it for more than a month or two. But losing it has him in enough of a panic that he practically destroys his side of camp looking for it: shaking out his bedroll, emptying out every one of his packs, turning his tent inside out. Of course it's nowhere.

It leaves him sitting on a tree stump in the moments before they all set out for the day, running his hands through his hair in frustration, utterly crushed. It's such a minor thing, really, but it makes him feel so... disappointing, that he can't even keep track of this one thing that someone did for him out of pure generosity.

Eventually, he has to accept that it's simply gone. And it'll put him in an absolutely dire mood for the rest of the trip, so enjoy that.]

[ 5.0 | a ]

[Where is everyone?

The fog comes down suddenly and thick; just as suddenly, Kazuma seems to find himself quite alone. Whoever he was traveling with before, he now simply can't find through the soupy mist. But there are shadows, just out of reach of his arm or his sword--accompanied by the sounds of gnashing teeth, of claws against earth and stone, of hot wet breathing just out of his line of sight. Behind him, but when he turns there's nothing there.

And there are voices. Urging him to attack before he can be attacked, to kill the things surrounding him before they can gut him first before he can even react. Or worse, kill the people he'd come here with, that he's since lost in the fog. He can't ensure their safety as lost as he is, but while he's surrounded by enemies he can at least take the initative--

No, he needs to be smarter than this, doesn't he? He knows now that magic factually exists and that it can play tricks on the mind. He's learned his lesson, he can't just go swinging wildly however he pleases--but then he feels the hot breath on his neck, hears the hungry growl of a monster just behind him, hears the singing urge of a voice saying kill it--

--and he turns and strikes with his sword in a blind panic.]

No!

[Except, of course, whoever is behind him isn't a monster at all.]

[OOC note: If you would like to have your character be injured from this prompt, I am fine with minor injuries being assumed without discussion. Major injuries are also not out of the question, just please discuss it with me first because Kazuma will feel really bad about it!!]

[ 5.0 | b ]

[At least here's something Kazuma can do right: it's hazardous, traveling these winding paths through the wilderness and by cliffsides, but as much as Kazuma isn't fond of his strange new body it at least gives him the strength and reflexes to intervene when the time comes.

It's easier than he expects, to simply catch a boulder falling down the cliff face before it squashes a wayward bystander. Most likely it's a lot more harrowing of an experience for whoever was about to get squashed. Kazuma does his best to offer a reassuring smile before placing the boulder innocently out of harm's way. If you really listen, you might almost feel like there's triumphant music playing faintly somewhere.]

You're not hurt, are you?

[ 7.0 ]

[Fighting monsters is different from fighting humans. The instinctive, life-and-death exchange of motion between two creatures desperate to survive is similar, but this time Kazuma doesn't need to hold back against them. He doesn't stop to think about how that makes him feel, and instead lets himself simply fall into the flow of the fight. It is not up to him that the monsters do not run when injured, and simply continue to throw themselves at the party to be slaughtered, regardless of how many of them have already fallen. Killing them is the only choice any of the orbers have.

And that's enough for Kazuma for now. There's no bloodlust in this situation, only the defense of himself and his allies, in their attempts to accomplish a goal. That's what he tells himself. And with his brain turned off, it's easier than he'd expected to simply--parry, counterattack, dispatch, and he's had enough experience by now with ambushes to avoid injury to himself, despite the best efforts of the monsters. It's going surprisingly well.]

On your left!

[As he calls out to an ally, the monster's head is easily separated from its shoulders with a decisive swing of his sword. He simply nods in acknowledgment to his party member; no thanks are required. He's getting a little cocky. Of course, this leaves him open to an attack from the side if he isn't paying enough attention...]

[ wildcard ]

[Hit me up via PM or at cerebrah if you would like me to write you a closed starter or to plot something else!]

1.0 | b

[swordandshield]

[Said sentimental pocketwatch safely hidden away within one of Felix's secret inner pouches, the mercenary walked up to the young adult in distress as Kazuma sat on the tree stump.

As they were heading out towards what felt like the final leg of this mission, Felix had realized he hadn't completed his personal goal yet. He had gotten caught up in gathering intel and completing side missions that kept him occupied. So if this was it, he needed to get his goal done sooner rather than later. And he had seen the perfect opportunity when he'd noticed Kazuma cradling the pocketwatch carefully one evening.

That night, he crept over to the kid's stuff and went through it until he found the watch. He gazed at it for a second in curiosity but the item held no real interest to him other than a means to an end (or new beginning as the case may be with his regret) and so he slipped it inside his vest and stealthily made his way off. And that was that.

Until the morning where Felix watched Kazuma go through his things in desperate frustration. It was a good thing the mercenary was busy getting his own things together so that he could keep his face straight and not give himself away too early in the game. But there was an amusement deep down in Felix trying to make its way out. He resisted.

But still found himself approaching the young man later after the desperate search. Felix's face was a carefully constructed mask of sincere concern as he wandered up and spoke.]

Everything okay? Couldn't help but notice something seemed off this morning... you were kinda a bit of a whirlwind there for a moment.

5.0 (A)

[bindsthedead]

I'm all right!

[Although that was close, and Sabriel can feel her heart hammering in her chest. That was too close.]

It feels like even the geography is hostile out here.

[Which is... almost reassuring. If it feels like some force is trying to deter them, they must be getting closer to the orb.]

1.0 | b

[coordination]

[ One dragonborn took note of that frantic searching quickly, keenly watching Kazuma as he tears things apart. Yzak decided to tag along with this group since it's where Sabriel wanted to go - and after the injuries she sustained, he wants to do his best to keep her safe so it doesn't happen again. He doesn't want to lose anybody else if he can do something about it.

When the sun begins to rise and the group prepares to continue on, he steps up to the stump Kazuma is seated at. He doesn't bother to hide his footsteps, because he's not trying to be sneaky. Nor is he the type to beat around the bush, either, when he speaks. ]

We're about ready to head out.

Did you find what you were looking for?

rand al'thor

[dragonmount]

[ closed starters below. feel free to hit me up for plotting! ]

FINN

[dragonmount]

[ the journey to fort gorlouch is hard.

even with the great mulgrowe there to guide them, the forests are every bit as perilous as the rumors say. they do have him, at least, and one another; traveling in the group and well-supplied means they don't go hungry and that bandits and most creatures alike tread warily before attacking them. oh, there are monsters. and strange dangers too, the kind of phenomena he'd commented earlier, more than once, he was surprised not to see in a world that an orb has fallen into. he has enough time to consider the irony as fires rage violently and fogs incite some of their own to violence.

and, as they come to south naelor, rand finds the gloom is familiar. shadar logoth means shadow's waiting in the old tongue, and he is reminded of the dead city more than once as they ride into this ruined court. his nerves are stretched taut as a bowstring as he watches his surroundings, half-expecting to find the darkness creeping after them hungrily.

and so: his hand is already halfway to his longbow when the dremnin appear, howling eerily, and he shoots arrow after arrow as the creatures descend, targeting the eyes, the throats, soft vulnerable parts. he keeps the benefit of range for as long as he can, but soon enough he has to switch to the replica of his father's sword to fend off the dremnin. he does alright at first, better than he would've expected; a combination of paladin strength and itachi's training come to the fore. it almost seems like it'll be enough.

but the dremnin have the benefit of numbers, of ferocity. he narrowly avoids being bitten by one only to have another slam into him heavily while he's already off-balance. he hits the ground hard, sword clattering out of his grasp, and cries out as his leg twists wrong against the stony ground. he's less aware of the break than he is of the pain, leaving him breathless, stunned and vulnerable in the middle of an unceasing onslaught.

and it doesn't take the monsters long to recognize an easy kill. ]

Ryunosuke Naruhodo - (Dragonborn Cleric) | OTA - On the road w/ Jun!

[locumstudentesquire]

{1.0 | A}
With each passing hour of this journey, Ryunosuke finds himself wondering more and more just what exactly he was thinking, getting himself involved in this.

Realistically, he knows he really had no choice. As long as Kazuma and Professor Mikotoba took part, he'd be compelled to go along too. He's just not the sort of guy who can just sit back and twiddle his thumbs while his friends are headed into possible danger.

Problem is, he's a city boy who's used to a certain degree of separation between him and the wilds. Hiking and camping are just very much NOT his thing, so, while he tries to be a good sport and keep from complaining about it too much, it's pretty nakedly obvious that he's not having a good time.

He can most often be found lagging a bit more towards the back of Jun's group, ears drooping and tail dragging as he walks. Whether you're in the same boat as him (not being much of a hiker), or you're just concerned about seeing a guy straggle, there's not much to do other than to keep moving, and he looks like he could probably use some friendly conversation.]

[(Feel free to wildcard or bring your own hook to this one.)]

{1.0 | B}
[He'd hoped that with all the walking during the day, sleep would be a cinch to achieve once they stopped to make camp. Alas, for at least the first few nights, Ryunosuke finds no such luck. When he does sleep, it's often fitful and shallow, such to the point where he will sometimes just temporarily give up and move to sit up by the campfire for a bit instead, hoping the dancing flames will help lull him into a more restful state of mind.

However... Should he find company by the fire's light, he's not about to be unfriendly. He'll offer greeting to anyone who comes to join him, and introduce himself if again if necessary. And after sitting in silence for a bit, he'll chime up:]

You know... I picked 'cleric' as my class largely because I was intrigued by the idea of being able to detect lies, but... I've not had much of a chance to use it yet.

[...]

It's too bad I didn't have the ability when everyone was playing that game over the network. What was it called again...? Two lies and a truth?

{5.0 | A}
[While he's not full on scotophobic, Ryunosuke is not exactly the biggest fan of the dark. He particularly isn't a fan of this extremely unnatural super darkness that they're experiencing every night now. It makes him extra jumpy, it's bad for moral, and worst of all... What's a guy supposed to do if nature calls in the middle of the night, and he doesn't have dark vision!?

This is a dilemma that he has been very pointedly trying to avoid by not drinking too much just before bed, but. Sometimes your body just has other plans, and wants to make you suffer! That's his theory, anyway.

If you're able to see in the dark or happen to be close by enough, you might spot him sitting up in the middle of the night, looking around with an expression of apparent distress. You can ask what's wrong, but he might get squirrely about it, because it's an embarrassing issue. Or, even worse... Maybe he has actually managed to convince himself to get up and go, picking his way to the edge of the camp by the meager light of cantrip. He can barely see where he's going, so please don't take it too personally and cast retaliatory hexes on him if he steps on a tail, or a hand, or deadass just trips over you where you're sleeping.]

{5.0 | B}
[Ryunosuke really isn't the violent sort, which makes it a real testament to the potency of this fog that it takes little time at all for him to crack and draw Karuma, the katana gripped shakily in one hand. It had only taken a second for him to get separated from his companions in the thick, obscuring mists; now he's seeing beasts lurking in every shadow, and hearing their growls and snarls coming from just out of sight. They always seem to come from just over his left shoulder, no matter which way he faces...

He definitely needs help, but be careful if you approach. The katana he's wielding is actually the least of your worries, mind; even when frightened he's not much of a hack-and-slash kind of guy. But, he has his jaws slightly agape, and electricity crackles between his sharp teeth. He hasn't used his natural breath weapon even once since they got here, but if you come at him the wrong way right now, you might well get a face full of it.]

[OOC Note: let's try to keep it to light wounds here; Ryu's also not much of a fighter, so if your character comes in super aggro, he WILL likely try to take flight rather than fight, which I'm fine with as long as you don't mind a shorter thread :)]

{7.0}
[A battlefield really is the last place in the universe he should be, but it doesn't matter. He's not about to turn tail and leave everyone else here to fight.

As a cleric, he's at least doing his best to stay out of the worst of the fray, more providing support from the edges than anything. A dremnin you're having a tough time with might suddenly find itself afflicted by a swarm of bugs, distracting it long enough for you to make a killing blow. Or they might get stunned and zapped by a booming blade sent out from Karuma, halting a potentially devastating blow you accidentally left yourself open to.

Most importantly: this guy has healing magic, and he's not afraid to use it. He might well get your attention when you're between dremnin encounters, hurrying up to your side with his scaly palms out and at the ready.]

Hold still a moment; I'll have you patched up in a flash!

[He looks rattled and tired and queasy from all the bloodshed going on, but he's very much determined to help.]

{Wildcard}
[Hit me up at awkwardpossum or drop me a PM if none of these strike your fancy and you'd like to plot something different! Or just drop a starter for me here. I'm easy!]

1A

[softshoes]

[Yujin isn't opposed to an adventure. Or even a hike, really. Unfortunately for him, even whatever additional endurance his current tiefling form has lent him isn't enough to make up for the fact that-- well-- these days, the bulk of his time is spent researching or lecturing on Yumei's campus. Indoors. Not to mention that he isn't exactly getting any younger.

So, unsurprisingly, Ryunosuke isn't the only straggler flagging somewhere at the back of Jun's party.

As he catches sight of another, familiar, slow hiker, Yujin waves, adjusting his own walking speed to keep pace with the younger man.]

N-Naruhodo! [he begins-- upbeat, but. Somewhat out of breath. His own ears are drooping, and his tail's dragging a bit behind him. Valiantly, he's trying to maintain his spirits: if he stays optimistic he will surely forget how long they've been walking. Or so he hopes, anyway.]

Fine... fine day for a hike, isn't it?

[He manages a smile, but worn as he is, it comes out nearer to a grimace.]

Edward Elric l Fullmetal Alchemist aka Aricryn Copperfern the gnome

[chrysology]

1.0:

[At the least, camping outside like this while traveling? He's used to that. So it is easy enough for him to figure setting himself up, after a day of riding and maybe even joining in some songs or stories along the way. He is quick and experienced enough that it doesn't take long for him to settle in for the night. Setting up some blankets for a bed, making a campfire to cook something over. For some light. He might even offer some of his food, his dinner (a basic stew) if someone else is setting up nearby and might like some as well.]

Want some?

4.0:

[He's no stranger to combat. Maybe still adjusting with this particular set of abilities and the like, his newfound even shorter height. But that doesn't bother him. As he takes cover initially, waiting for a chance to strike and take one of the bandits by surprise. Or just leaping into the middle of the chaos to help someone in need. Either way.

It doesn't take long. Before one of the bandits is greeted from behind by a tiny gnome Rogue leaping up and striking at their back. Trying to take advantage of his whole Rogue thing by sneaking up from behind. But while more stealthy and sneaky with his smaller size, he is also probably more of a target in now getting involved.]

You alright?

5.0 a:

W-whoa! Shit!

[And cue the tiny gnome cursing and shifting back as his campfire seems to keep spreading and growing further beyond what he intended or anticipated. He has some drinking water but he doubts that would be much, be enough to deal with it.

That and he might be staring at it remembering when he burned his own house down. So he might kind of freeze up. Rather than really. Fleeing too far.]

5.0 b:

I can't see a damned thing....it's so dark...!

[Which. Is frustrating because of course he is used to sneaking around an taking advantage of the cover of night time. But this is a bit much even for him when he can barely even see his hand in front of him. He squints, trying to figure seeing anything but it is of course futile. He stumbles as he tries to feel around, to make his way in keeping going in the direction they were headed.

Which may or may not result in him bumping into someone else. Probably someone much taller than he is presently.]

Sorry?

6.0:

[He's tiny. And also, vulnerable, given his arm and leg being auto-mail, for all that he generally tries to keep that hidden under pants, under long sleeves and gloves. He can't actually swim. Not with the added weight of the metal, for all that he actually can swim otherwise, could swim just fine prior. He thus becomes rather panicked, as the tide swells and pulls him in from the beach.]

Ack! Dammit! I can't -- Can't swim!

7.0

Watch it!

[He warns, shifting in trying to progress in moving forward while also helping deal with the creatures they need to get past. He's tiny, making it easier for him to move around mostly unnoticed. But it does also make him a target, as he strikes at one of the creatures about to attack one of the other Orbers from behind. He's quick, luckily able to dodge easily enough that another of the creatures just maybe barely grazes at his arm. The auto-mail one.]

I hope that doesn't mess with it too much.

[That muttered more to himself, as perhaps the sleeve might expose the shine of the metal underneath.]

6.0

[realists]

[ he's a tiny thing, jyn almost thinks it's a wayward child at first but he's dressed for battle so presumably one of their own. ]

I'll be right there!

[ shoving her truncheons in her bag, she hurls the pack further up the shore, away from the swiftly approaching tide. she grew up on the water, she's a strong swimmer, but she doesn't want to lose any of her supplies to the sea and the picture of her parents is more precious to her than this guy. he can wait, in her opinion, protecting the one photograph of her family cannot. ]

Alright, don't panic, I'm coming.

dean winchester - rogue extraordinaire, chasing pretty ladies (Alena) - OTA!

[ruinously]

(( ooc; Dean is following Alena, but can obviously be met up with off the ship! dm me or hmu hiraeths if you want to plot something specific! ))

3.0 - Alena;

[ Ships aren’t as bad as airplanes, but there’s something about the open water that has Dean a little tense, muscles clenched up in his shoulders and back, but he relaxes soon enough, learning fast how to raise and lower sails, drop anchor. Makes him feel all pirate-y, like a really cool badass – not that he’d ever tell anyone that.

The nights are his favorite though, when it’s quiet and the waves lap at the side of the boat and the stars shine bright overhead, diamonds tossed over black velvet. That’s where he can be found, the calm before the storm.

He’s leaning against the mast, elbows on his knees and his head tipped back, resting against the wood as he stares at the stars and wonders where Cas is now.

There’s plenty of room for two. ]

5.0 - not visions of sugarplums

[ When the river becomes too shallow to traverse and they must make their way on foot, Dean does so without complaint; he carries his pack filled with rations and first aid supplies, and with his cloak draped over top of it and over his head, he thinks he looks a little ridiculous, like a camel shuffling through the woods.

The fog comes out of nowhere, and that’s when the whispers start. It isn’t the first or the last time voices have tried to manipulate, and this time, Dean is ready. It’s unfortunate that the fellow orber next to him isn’t, and he jumps out of the way just in time. ]

Hey! Snap out of it, you hear me? It’s in your head -!

7.0 - It's monster killin' time

[ Being set upon by monsters also isn't new, and due to their size, he's fairy sure Ruby's demon killing knife isn't going to cut it. Instead, he pulls out his sword (that he desperately hopes he can keep), gripping it tight in his fists.

He also hasn't forgotten he has some badass magic, and while he doesn't want to waste his energy using his invisibility spells, he does have a couple clever cantrips he can use.

It's not his favorite, infestation, but it's damn useful when he sees a fellow orber getting driven back - a disgusting cloud of mites surround the Dremnin, which slows it down long enough for it to be taken down.

Next time it's him that's driven back, the monster bearing down and knocking him on his ass, and he flings a hand out towards it, using his friends cantrip, frantically scrambling back as the monster pauses it's tirade against Dean. Christ, fuck Dean specifically, and whoever happens to be with him. ]

Protect us, [ he screams, scrambling to his feet and hauling his fellow orber up, though he's turning immediately to them, wide eyed, because he knows that shits limited and they have five minutes to get the hell out of it's line of sight. ]

Run.

[ Maybe you're back to back with him at some point, blades flashing, blood splattering, two people protecting one another as they fight towards a common goal. If he's given enough shadow, there's a ripple of magic in the air that calls his shadow blade into existence, and it's stronger than the real blade that he hefts into his left hand so he can wield shadow with his dominant.

This is so fuckin' cool. ]

Zhao is a wildcard

[essenceofdeadlybeasts]

[The day started off calm and serene as they departed from the boat and began following the river towards their goal. So far it had been a pleasant travel and Zhao wondered how it was going for the other parties on their separate paths. While he was daydreaming, something glittered in the water that caught his attention. It looked silvery and shiny.

Naturally, the dragonborn headed straight for it.

He knelt down next to the water and peered over the edge of the river's bank, trying to catch a glimpse of the object that had caught his attention. Maybe it was a silver coin or something even better like a lost ring or necklace stuck at the bottom of the river! He leaned a little further, eyes searching for a prize.

There was a quick flash of silver along the water again, this time from further up--but it was moving quick now, not stopping, heading straight for the unsuspecting dragonborn. Something very much not a coin or lost trinket but alive and vicious, speeding through the water like a racehorse on an open plain and ready to jump out and attack as soon as it neared its prey.]

Daisy Johnson | OTA

[morethan084]

2.0

[After hearing about the dark presence in the forest from Joric, Daisy decides to go with Mulgrowe. Her only weapon on her person is Nicky’s sword that Joe had given to her before the start of the mission.

The presence the wolves warned Joric about is something Daisy feels almost immediately, and what makes it unnerving is that she can’t point to an explanation as to what it could be. It’s suffocating, and before she knows it she seems to have lost track of the group. Her skin prickles with the overwhelming sense of danger and her hand reaches for the hilt of her sword, eyes on the trees above her. Suddenly the sound is behind her and she pulls out the sword quickly, spinning on the spot to face…]

You scared me.

[She lets out a breath of relief, pulling the sword back.]

5.0

[This is not the first time the environment around them has taken hold of the Orbers, making them see and hear things that weren’t actually there. She hears growing panic nearby and rushes over, hand at the hilt of her sword again until she sees exactly what’s going on.]

Hey!

[Daisy shouts, rushing towards the person fighting seemingly nothing. She ducks just as they take a swing at her, hands reaching for their wrist in an attempt to stop them from attacking her.]

Stop! It’s not real! Whatever you’re seeing, it’s just a trick.

6.0

[She should’ve packed an umbrella, even if it probably wouldn’t have done much against this absolute downpour. Shielding her eyes as she continues to move forward through the forest, Daisy’s lost track of where everyone was going, as they had all run for whatever shelter they can find. She feels a tug on her hand and she willingly goes once she sees who it is.

Being led into a cave, Daisy has to duck her head as her head grazes the top of it.]

Thanks.

[She wrings out the water from her hair, shaking the water off of her hands.]

It’s going to take days to dry off.

7.0

Oh shit.

[It feels like the appropriate response to the giant monsters closing in on them. She hears Mulgrowe’s warning, and she doesn’t even have time to ask what that means. Maybe it’s just a dramatic way of saying they’ll die. Either way, Daisy would love to not find out.

Daisy starts moving forward, sword out and ready to attack. It’s utter chaos as she tries to keep up with Alena and the other Orbers in their attempt to storm the fortress. It’s not long until she’s swinging her sword around, far from normally being an expert with a sword it seems to come naturally to her. The movements are done without thought as she slices through one of the Dermnin with one hand.

Her free hand is held out in front of her, sending out an elderitch blast towards another Dremnin that is trying to attack a group of Orbers nearby. Pulling the sword out of the creature’s throat she rushes forward to help the others.]

Keep moving forward! I’ll catch up!

[She doesn’t realize it at the time, but she uses rage and her strength is beyond something she’s normally capable of. Like an adrenaline rush on crack, her movements almost unnatural as she manages to fight off two of the creatures at once.

And almost as soon as the spell starts, it ends. With at least one of them down, Daisy takes a breath and catches sight of her arm.]

Fuck.

[She didn’t even feel one of the Dremnin’s bite her. Well, hopefully whatever Mulgrowe meant by their warning, it at least holds off until they get the orb.]

Wildcard

[Have something else in mind? Feel free to write something below or send me a PM/message on plurk morethan084!]

2.0

[drawsblood]

[ Joric stands still, eyeing her sword and the distance between its point and himself. ]

I thought you'd hear me.

[ Most people do since he isn't exactly stealthy. ]

Come; this place has a way of separating us. The others are this way.

[ A head jerk to his left and between the trees some movement can be detected. He travels without an animal companion for the moment, but he's ready to track one down to get information if he can. Shirt sleeves rolled up and club resting against his shoulder, he looks like he's out for a stroll rather than a hike through the woods. The only part that has him unsettled is this oppressive feeling and losing sight of others every so often before they come back into view. Spotting Daisy straying away is what led him towards her, but he'll feel mostly at ease again once they've returned to the group. ]

Felix | Red vs Blue | Open for those Traveling by Road with Jun Shortaxe

[swordandshield]

I. Best at Being the Worst

1.0 starting the journey

[Felix had done enough marching to last him a lifetime. So he was not about to walk all the way to South Naelor. Instead, he got himself a horse to ride the way there. It was not, unfortunately, anything like riding a motorcycle. He hated it thank you very much. Though it turned out he was neither the best rider nor was he the worst at least. But it was clear he was learning as the trip went even if he was fairly good at do so quickly and while looking mostly in control.

After a few days he got more steady but by no means more comfortable in the saddle. The longer they traveled the more it became obvious that he was physically uncomfortable with the means of transportation, irritated and sore from the constant ride. Periodically his tail flicked moodily against the horse's flank causing the animal's hide to flinch from the irritation. The horse, fortunately, was a steady beast. Though it was clear that both rider and horse were uncomfortable the longer this trip lasted.]

I would rather be on a Mongoose right now.

[And he didn't even like those. His voice was bland, cut dry and his expression matched the tone.]

II. Cruel World

4.0 orc attack

[Felix had already tuned out of the conversation that Finn had fostered upon him as some point during the day's travels but his expression shifted as he heard something beyond the boy's droning voice.]

Do you hear that?

[He interrupted. Felix paid no attention to whatever the boy did after that, he had figured out what was coming next. He pressed into the sides of his horse's flank and made for the rumbling sound coming up on the group. A group of bandits suddenly appeared and rode towards them on horses of their own, the galloping making the rumble that Felix had heard to alert him of the impeding attack. He was ready.

Fighting from horseback was certainly new to the mercenary. He clashed weapons with a few opponents before coming to the conclusion it wasn't worth the effort to fight from horseback with his limited range with the shorter weapons he possessed in his arsenal. So after dismounting his second foe from horseback, Felix readied himself for the third coming at him by climbing to his feet upon the saddle. He knelt in position, his tiefling tail lashing out behind him in anticipation as he waited for the perfect moment, and then leapt as his opponent got close enough.

He tackled the orc off his horse and onto the ground. Quickly rolling off, Felix got back to his feet and turned back to face his foe with a grin on his face.]

All right, bub. Let's do this the fun way.

[Felix drew his two-pronged katar-sword and leapt back into the battle.]

5.0 take the heat

[Settling down for the nights were getting more perilous as they continued to travel south to their destination. The land turned savage on them and attacks became frequent, whether it was due to bandits or monsters or even the weather working against them. Felix didn't know what to make of the more magical affects scattered across the land, neither the impossible darkness during the evenings or the befuddling illusions struck against the minds of those present. He could fight against the rest but those types of things were beyond him and he grew agitated by their hindering effects.

So when the campfire began to act up Felix was just about done with it all. The only plus side to this one was that Felix was a tiefling and he knew from experience that he was immune to fire.]

Oh, come on! Haven't we had enough of this?

[The mercenary got to his feet as he watched the fire burn bright and swell to three times its initial size, threatening to spill over the ring of rocks lining the cobbled together fire pit. His tail lashed out angrily behind him.]

Fine, fine. Sit back down. I'll handle this one! [He said to no one in particular.] I've already danced to this tune once before, but let's go, hotstuff, I'm ready for another tango if you are.

[Why yes he was talking to the flame as if it could understand him. Taunting a fire probably wasn't the most sane thing to do but that didn't deter this tiefling. Felix stepped forward, ready to douse the flame with whatever was on hand and put a stop to this nonsense.]

III. Wildcard!

[You know what to do. Note: Felix will not be available for the final battle as he's heading straight into the fortress for the orb retrieval thread. Your character may encounter him there but it will be brief as he is pushing through fairly quickly. Otherwise, he's available for anything else!]

1.0

[bindsthedead]

People travel on weasels where you're from?

[They must be very large weasels, but Sabriel travels by paper airplane back home, so she's in no position to throw stones.]

Relax. This is better than traveling on foot, and the roads are in good shape. We should make good time.

Zhao Tianyou | RGG/Yakuza | OTA

[essenceofdeadlybeasts]

I. The Hatchet

[The journey was troublesome but they all arrived at their destination around the same time which was good. Zhao had completed his personal mission, fought off some monsters, and generally made it through with pure stubbornness. He'd say it was time for a rest before getting into the meat of it, but he knew that wasn't in the cards. It never was.

He wasn't disappointed. They barely had time to reunite before the growls began.

Monsters poured out of the crumbling fortress and assaulted the Orbers and their local companions. It was pure chaos. A fight somewhat similar to the defense of the yakuza patriachs when they ended the clans, a grandiose battle like the war back on Giva, at least Zhao was used to this by now. He drew his rapier and prepared to meet the creatures on the battlefield.

He used everything in his arsenal during this battle to keep ahead of the game. Slashing his sword, breathing lightning, using magic, and throwing his martial arts into the mix whenever needed, he fought with everything he had. There was no reason to hold back now, this was it. If he could help his fellow Orbers survive then he was going to give it his all. He was there to fight and protect others, that was what he was good for.]

II. Wildcard!

[Anything really. Zhao is heading out with Alena to teleport and ride the boat towards South Naelor. Lmk AisuYoukai if you would like a starter for anything taking place during the travel time period. o7]

For Natasha

[essenceofdeadlybeasts]

[The boat ride was calm at the beginning of the trip and the first night was no exception. Zhao found the dark sky full of so very many bright stars to be quite peaceful. It was a wondrous sight, and not one he got to see often. The city was too full of its own lights shining bright in the night to allow for it.

He was distracted by movement from across the ship and turned to glance at another lone figure presumably out to gaze at the night sky. The red hair fluttered gently in the faint breeze. Zhao smiled at Natasha even from afar.

Then he sighed and squared his shoulders as he knew what to do next. He walked towards her.]

Hey. [His voice was soft, respectful of the nighttime peace.] It's nice out here like this, ne? If you don't mind the rocking ride.

Newton Geiszler | Pacific Rim

[groupiedrifter]

(Newton's D&D Stats)

I. Before the Split

Hey! You think you can give me a hand?

[Newton is giving a friendly wave, a beckoning motion with his hand that asks for the person in question to follow to a wooden table less centralized in the small encampment that's grown, littered with tools — a hacksaw, some shears, an axe, all sorts of things meant for people to scavenge through before they begin their journeys split into three parties. As Newt plops his ass down on one of the seats, he yanks off his leather arm guard and reveals the bright blue, highly scribbled-on cast beneath.]

I need your help cutting this bad boy off! Have you ever tried getting a cast off one-handed? It's the worst.

[Considering he's a little sweaty and there are a few attempted (and subsequently aborted) cuts in the cast... Newton has tried getting it off himself and can confirm that it sucks.

Wiping his boney brow, the dragon-human hybrid gripes:]

You'd think the thing was made out of concrete.

II. When the Tough Get Going | Jun's Party | (cw: nightmares/terrors, topics of possession)

[Newton himself has been tasked with 'the guy who picks the music', which is to say, he puts himself in the role without anyone asking for it. To his credit, he does play more period-appropriate songs instead of whipping out Pure Hell or New York Dolls like this were some gritty obscure dive bar in Chicago. He's had a month to practice his whimsical adventure music, and on occasion belts out his work in progress: The Ballad of Dweyre. After all, he told Fribs he'd do it, and so he shall! But any requests will be humbly attempted, especially if they're of a modern variety. Sure, the lute is a little more simplistic than an electric guitar, but by god he'll make it work. Trust him.

After some time, day becomes night, and camp has to be set up. Newton more than happily spends a chunk of time sitting at the campfire and repackaging old horror movies into dramatic tales for the locals who would have no idea who Freddy Kreuger or Chucky or Sadako are — and at any point, you may drift near as he starts into the climax of one tale:]

When Ryuji awoke the next day in the comfort of his cabin, he discovered the cruelest sight of all... Sadako's well, emerged from the wooden floorboards where his table had once stood in the dining area. He anxiously gripped the hilt of his sword, pressing his back to the wall, too aware that her curse had not truly been broken... no, it was a curse passed onto him now. And as Sadako's long curtain of hair began to crawl out of the mortar and brick opening, Ryuji found himself frozen... He couldn't move. He couldn't raise his weapon and prepare for battle. It's like every inch of him had been paralyzed by the sight... He could only watch as swollen, gray fingers scraped across his floor... closer... closer...! Reiko could only beat on the door from the outside; no matter how many times she'd swung her axe into the handle, it would not budge, even as Ryuji screamed his final scream of horror...!

[When the tale ends and the campfire is nothing but a couple of smoldering embers, they all move to their sleeping palettes (save for, perhaps, a handful of adventurers who take turns keeping watch). Newt had retired himself to bed, and it's not but an hour or two later before he finds himself twisting and turning unhappily where he rests.

As the dagger raises overhead, it doesn't slash down. It stills where Newton holds it beside his face. The fist curled in Clara's shirt doesn't loosen from it's painful grip, but — the dagger stays hovering, and then shakes as if fear has possessed them. Him. Someone. His breath is held. Confusion paints his brow at first, and then helplessness. The two bodies are both frozen in the moment — a still, almost too quiet moment, save for the distant roars of the kaiju — as fresh tears slide, unyielding, down his cheeks and wobbling lips; they drip across Clara's face where she's pinned beneath him.

"Newt? Newt, it's okay." Clara's voice cracks as she says it, and she tries smiling through her tears. "Do what you need to do—"

"You need to stop. I know you don’t want to do this. You need to fight it," Daisy begs, trying to staunch the blood running out of her.

"Newton!" Kirk yells, struggling through the pain of a blaster shot—

Peter Quill falls from the gaping wound on the train — Kovacs finds cover after being blasted back on his feet —

"Newt." Foxlike, Rhysand's head tilts in an almost otherworldly way, shoulders tense with a distinct rigidity. His hands are still in his pockets, but it's like a bomb waiting to go off — he could lunge at any time. "There are women and children on this train." (NEWTON, they hiss. DO NOT F̴̹̣͋̓̈I̷̥̥̟̽G̴̣͑̿̆H̷̠̖̎͜͝T̸̖̋ ̵̱̯͓̽̽Ú̸̳̰Ś̸̡̙͎͠͝.) Alina launches at him from out of hiding — she tackles him to the floor, scratches and bites and claws as the detonator flies away — they plunge the dagger into Alina's side. Rhysand's fist strike and strike and strike, cutting skin, swelling Newton's face, as Alina's blood paints him —

Newton wakes up with a sharp gasp, his pillow soaked with sweat as he vibrates with fear. Without his glasses, the dark treetops around them are full of beady black eyes that glisten in the dark, watching him, studying him like a bug in a jar. Branches become gnarled, gray fingers. He's frozen in fear, something heavy sitting on his chest. It's not real, they're gone, he thinks, but like the many times before, it only scarcely budges reality. You're free, you're safe, they're gone, they're gone.]

H — help.

[Newt barely gets it out, scaring into the deep, deep dark.

He's always been a little scared of the dark, but what he sees within it is so much worse.

When he eventually manages to wake himself up completely, perhaps with help from some patient outside source, he can't go back to sleep. He instead finds a place to pace on the outskirts of the slumbering party, a lantern held almost protectively in front of him.]

III. The Going Gets Tough | Jun's Party

[Boy, that's some bandit attack, huh? If you think for a moment Newt's not immediately frazzled and scattered and unsure how to assist in combat, you'd... well, you'd be 100% right. This is something he's never been good at, not in a million fucking years, okay! Still, people are needing the backup, and he's gonna provide it. As a pair of orcs prepare to strike your character where they've fallen back and caught unawares, the two orcs suddenly stop — then waver on their feet, tilting back and forth. Then they collapse, flat on their faces.

Behind them, Newton's hands are on either side of his head in excited surprise, and his eyebrows have ascended to his hairline.]

Holy shit, it really works! Dude, did you see that sleep spell?! I performed magic! I'm a fucking wizard-bard, dude!

[Please don't let him get clobbered with a mace while he's celebrating his very minor victory.

While he definitely needs rescue more than he's doing the rescuing, he does also electrcute the unholy shit out of another orc that is about to impale one of his teammates. So, like. He'd like to think he's doing pretty awesome. It's not until he smashes his lute over an orc's head that his luck kind of runs out — which is his own fault, because immediate knock-outs are only in movies, you know? He gets picked up by the scruff and thrown haphazardly into some mud by one of the bandits, one that quickly collects its sword before it begins to advance on Newton, who currently looks like this:]



IV. Wildcard | Open to Whatever!

[Wanna do something outside of Jun's Party? Wanna do anything with the other prompts? Got something that doesn't fit?

Just hit me up on simpledog and we can get something going! PMing totally works, too.]

II

[bindsthedead]

Newton?

[The darkness has the kind of weird opacity that makes Sabriel suspect it's magically conjured. But it doesn't dull sounds, and she hears the 'help' very clearly.]

Newton, it's all right. Nothing's attacking us.

[She fumbles over, following the sound and trying to jostle him awake, if this is a nightmare.]

It's all right.

The Darkling / Shadow and Bone. With Alena

[cruelyethuman]

Part I.
3.0

[He picks Alena out of habit, because magic - even strange ones like the magic that seeps through this world, is better than no magic at all. It's better than wallowing in the nothings that being completely without sparks in him.

And on the roiling deck of the ship, he finds that old habits die hard. Even for him. Hoisting the sails and walking across the tilted deck proves no challenge and the terms are easily translated to the ones he knew years and years ago.

Standing with the spray of salt water in his face, smaller and somehow still not less, Aleksander makes himself useful as the journey towards the heart of the matter unspools around them all.]

Oi! I need a hand over here! Grab that one!

Part II
5.0

[Walking through the damp forest, the sounds amplifying through the darkness and the weak, watery moonlight from far above the canopy, and he still finds himself enjoying this.

Enough to keep walking with a small smile on his face, as he picks his way easily, his dwarf-eyes seeing the path through the dense underbrush almost as well as he would have been able to in daylight. And the newness of that thrills him.

It gives him spring in his step despite the monsters, despite the voice whispering in his ear about how fast it would be - how easy- to end most of his problems with a swift swing of his axe. Or from the sword. But Aleksander has had multiple lifetimes to learn how to ignore the unpleasant truths about himself and this night, is not the time to start listening.]

No. No, see...follow me, because you're about to walk right in to a thick patch of brambles and they look very-- pointy.

Part III
7.0

[One by one, the orbers all find the way to the same spot. The overgrown and ruined walls half-hidden in the shadowy darkness and while the remnants of The Songbird Brigade greet each other with nods and small smiles, the group from the station step up.

Aleksander steps forward as soon as the words of what seems like a prayer has left Alena's mouth, sword still sheathed by his side and his hands moving against each other in an almost familiar pattern - palms sliding together, fingers twitching as magic builds between his hands and he sends it flying towards the monsters all but exploding in their direction.]

This would have been easier if we had practiced fighting together before rushing in to battle.

[But that was an old argument, rehashed after every mission- what to expose of themselves and their strengths. Their weaknesses. Snarling, he throws a spell, the light twisting like wines from his fingertips to wind around the nearest monster, the buzzing of a thousand flies can be heard over the din of steel against flesh.]

Wildcard

[Or hit me up in PM or at ireth for a closed starter, let's throw things on the wall and see what sticks!]

7.0

[malta]

[ joe snorts, a huff of laughter as he dances around gracefully with his sword, a ballet of violence. ]

Charmingly optimistic to think even if it was proposed— [ the sword flashes as it reflects off the magic flying around them before he embeds it in gullet of a monster with far too many teeth to be natural, it's mouth opening even further as it screams in pain. joe pulls his arm back too late to escape the chomping of those teeth, but it's not a dremnin so he doesn't waste time considering his current mortality.

't is only a flesh wound. he continues as if there was no interruption. ]

Enough people would even show up.

Finn Mertens | Adventure Time | Open to all on the Jun-train

[heroooic]

1.0 - on the road with jun & agatha

[Tucked under one arm, a particularly rotund, reddish brown, speckled hen of not inconsiderable size. A laying hen, she was.

Purchased shortly before leaving for South Naelor, Finn insisted on carrying the chicken along with him every day, setting her down to graze when they stopped, letting her peck around the camp when they rested.

She was a somewhat comforting reminder of home, providing a bit of daily distraction tending to her needs. And although one chicken wasn't exactly going to feed an army, the occasional fresh egg (shared only with those willing to extend their respects to her) on a grueling journey wasn't to be laughed at either.

As they set up camp, the sky reddening in the dusk, Finn digs around in his pack, searching for something. He removes some of the spare provisions he'd brought; things bought at the market, hard bread and dried meat, some extra fruit confections left over from his daily visits with Sabriel while she was laid up with her injury. Nearby, the handsome chicken was pulling at some tufts of grass, warbling softly. A homey, calm sound.]

You can pet her if you want. Just, be careful of her beak. And don't approach her from behind. [ A beat. ] Or the front.

[Finn finds the pan he was looking for, kneeling by the burgeoning campfire, adding a few small pieces of kindling.]

Her name is Agatha. [The chicken clucks authoritatively, pecking around Finn's shoes until he offers her a crust of bread.] Or Aggie, if you're nasty.

5.0 - humanity to the rescue

[After that morning's rain, the fog didn't immediately ping Finn as concerning. Even if it rolled in faster and thicker than one would expect, the weather in Aldyhion was a little kooky on a good day. Visibility low, Finn slows down to tuck Agatha into his backpack. He needed both hands, just in case -- this was tripping weather.

It, apparently, was fighting weather. Finn hears the shouts and screams start up almost immediately, their source swallowed up by the dense fog. Just a few yards away, he sees two silhouetted figures brawling with each other. Even closer, another cowered away from something unseen. Agatha safely, if crossly, tucked away, Finn draws his sword. Orc bandits again. Had to be, right?]

Hey! [He shouts to the cowering figure, moving towards them as quickly as he could manage.] Hey, it's Finn! You okay?

6.0 - rain, rain go away

[One thing could be said for this trip... it was wet. Even when the rain wasn't pouring down on them, its footprint was left quite literally in the muddy road they now trudged through. Their large number only made the slop worse, not to mention the shelter scarce when the downpour got torrential enough for them to stop. Jun never seemed to lose his good spirits even in those moments, directing the group effortlessly to find shelter and encouraging them that these downpours wouldn't slow their resolve.

That's what a leader was, Finn smiles to himself, following his instructions with what he hoped was similar determination. Poor Agatha clucked her disapproval for the dampness invading her backpack roost, pecking at his shoulder until Finn found refuge under one of the few trees with foliage dense enough to block out the worst of the rain. It was one of the choicer spots to pick from and Finn isn't surprised to see he's not alone, greeting whoever he's joined with a quick wave.]

Whew! Bad one, huh? [He shifts his backpack around to hang off his chest so he can lean against the tree. Agatha, damp and miserable, sizes up their new companion suspiciously.] You think it'll last longer than the one yesterday?

0.0 - wildcard!

(( Hit me up with whatever you got!! You can ping me at nonvieta if you want to hash out anything specific, but feel free to just go for it. ))

Drive-by comment

[swordandshield]

I still say that chicken would make a better dinner than breakfast provider.

[Said while walking by with a knife in hand one evening after camp was already set up. He doesn't even stop to see or hear Finn's response.]

clarke griffin | the 100

[romancekiller]

WHEN THE TOUGH GET GOING

1.0

[ from the moment the decision to split up presents itself, clarke opts to be part of the group traveling with jun shortaxe in part because she trusted him the least. she was still on the mend from her injuries she had gotten while in the caverns but whether it was going by horseback or on foot it was something she was already used to which includes camping as they eventually settle in for the night before resuming their journey.

she starts off by helping with getting campfires started to even assisting with getting blankets set up before she finally decides to settle down herself going to get some dinner though if anyone happens to be nearby, she waves them over to strike up some casual conversation to check in on them]

How are you holding up? [there is probably some irony to the fact she is asking this while recovering from her injuries but of course she that doesn't deter her from fussing over others and making sure they're doing okay]

THE GOING GETS TOUGH

5.0

a. [it figures that it was too much to ask for that their encounter with the bandits to be the end of the monsters they would have to deal with but as the fog starts to roll in completely out of nowhere, it seems like that was only the beginning. it wasn't quite like acid fog that she has experienced back but it puts her on edge all the same. it is practically impossible to see anyone nearby, almost as if she is lagging behind from the group even though that doesn't make any sense at all.

clarke attempts to keep going and venture out on the path in front of her but she is only met with the whispers of voices as she finds herself suddenly surrounded by monsters creeping out of the shadowy depths of the fog. it wasn't the first time she'd dealt with something like this on a mission so she tries to fight it. it wasn't real, her mind was playing tricks on her again but the voices continue to urge her to attack as they close in on her before she suddenly finds herself moving to strike her dagger at whoever happens to approach her] Get the hell away from me— !

[she will unfortunately snap out of it and realize a little too late but hey on the upside at least from being a cleric she'll be able to heal the wounds]

[ooc; let me know if you want to go with minor or major injuries for this prompt if you are wanting your character to snap her out of this. bonus that she will be able to heal you up afterwards too]

b. [by the time they settle in once again for the night, clarke can't help but feel even more wary between all the dangers they have faced so far. she already knows that she won't be able to get much sleep despite her best efforts so she sticks by the campfire for most of the evening but she is not about to turn down company if anyone wants to join her so when she hears footsteps approach, she gives a slightly tired smile] You can't sleep either?

[a little while later, she isn't quite sure how it happens or how much time ends up passing whether it happens to be few minutes or hours later but what transpires next occurs within the blink of an eye. she could have sworn that with how late it was getting the fire was on its way to fading out but suddenly it seems like it has developed a mind of its own with how the flames start to grow and start spreading at an alarming rate.

her eyes widen in surprise and her thoughts start racing with how to deal with it before the realization sinks that with her new skillset and abilities that come with being half tiefling, she is immune to the fire. if anyone else is in the vicinity, she will just push them back in efforts to shield them from the fire] Watch out— that was a really close call. You're not hurt, are you?

WILDCARD

[ feel free to throw anything else at me or even modify the prompts above slightly however you like! i'm open to any of the other scenarios i don't have here but if you want a closed starter for something specific, let me know!]

closed to itachi (& gwen); set during the conclusion

[heroooic]

[The plan came together quickly, instructions shouted between the team in a flurry of dissenting opinions. The loudest voices won out, and it was with a strange pang in his chest that Finn finds himself in the position of needing to retreat. With a last look back towards the tieflings and warlocks assembling to execute their hail mary, Finn forces his legs to start moving. Away, they'd told him and the others loitering too close to the dragon's flight path, out of his range, until we can bring him down.

Finn should have run faster.

The scent of gore stuck in Finn's nostrils as he casts one more glance behind him, only to stagger as the field suddenly went dark with shadow. Instinctively, Finn jerks his gaze upwards. A blur of red scales fills his vision; Jun was flying low, clawed feet digging shallow furrows in the earth just beside him. It made a strange, unplaceable sound, startling Finn into changing his trajectory.

Whether it was random happenstance, the attraction of easy prey, lingering anger from their tense conversation just before, or recognition of the blade Finn now carried -- the dragon gives chase. Another clawed furrow nicks at the other side of Finn, spurring the teenager to change course yet again. By the time Finn realizes what the dragon is trying to achieve with his corralling strikes, he's been successfully herded toward the high-walled remains of what was once the Fortress of South Naelor. Dead end.

Mind wild with panic, Finn jumps at the wall, making a lame attempt to climb the stones. His arms were too weak, wobbly and exhausted from a day that refused to end. It wasn't going to work. Nothing was going to work. Fear grips him -- the kind of childish fear usually reserved for scary movies or dark bedrooms -- and Finn forces his eyes shut, catching his ragged breath against the cool stone.

If he was going to die here, at least he didn't have to see it coming.]

[blackfire]

（ the absence of chakra is not crippling, but it is, in the heat of combat, a disorienting frustration at the edges of his awareness the way dawn swallows darkness by degrees. he feels a little like he is constantly on the back foot, annoyed with the slowness to his own reaction time, the missing spatial perception of the sharingan. his command over the elements is base at best, and the weak flicker of holy fire or violet lightning would not be an acceptable demonstration of power to a chūnin, let alone an s-rank shinobi.

but kata are nature and breath to him. he could live a thousand years and never fight again, but the fabric of his mortal body will never unlearn the forms passed down from his father — from shisui. they run deeper than knowledge, stitched to the very marrow of his bones by the province of ceaseless repetition and a desperate hunger for peace he knew he would not live to see.

(he was never an elite among the uchiha simply because he possessed innate talent. he became so because he built that talent up over years, tireless. he became so because he eschewed friendships and the luxury of rest and the comforts of childhood, sacrificed time with his family, his brother. he became so because war always lived in the shadows of his mind and to have a hope of holding it back he had to be strong, and fast, and all too comfortable with cruelty.)

fighting a dragon would be a fair fight, were he capable of summoning susano'o. but itachi has always preferred the unadorned truth and all her cold comforts to whimsy and what-ifs. the thought is a blink, frustrated ire, accepted and set aside. what matters is that without chakra he is hardly defenseless, because his first lessons were not how to use gōkakyū, but how to move.

tracking finn as the dragon corrals him is not difficult — itachi is on a higher level in the ruins, anticipating that the advantage of the terrain may provide some use in the fight, but the moment he identifies the dragon's path and plan he's on the move, abandoning his position in a crumbling watchtower, taking a shorter route than the creature jun's become. his sword is slung over his back, his longbow dropped after a single shot — it hits the dragon right below the eye and ricochets harmlessly away. it buys him seconds of distraction — but no one else is close enough. jun has made it very clear he will kill for his own end. it would not surprise him if finn had drawn his ire more directly, besides.

he sends one text: a quick alert ping to gwen, whose blonde hair he can see through distant dust, and then he steps off the crumbling ramparts and into the open air.

the first blow, which had been intended for finn is a backhanded strike from one of the creature's heavily armoured forepaws. it takes the sword with which he'd intended to block, that he'd drawn in the drop from his hands as if he'd loosely held a toy. he is not foolish enough to try to cling to it, his hand opens the moment he knows it's lost, but he does not see where the blade lands.

he is not fast enough to draw the second of his swords before the dragon's returning swipe. it feels more impact than agony, he's knocked backwards into finn like a man bodily thrown. adrenaline is a jolt to the system, the bright clarion bell of serious injury keening its incipient warning well before he feels the slick of blood beneath his tunic and leather armour split like broken knuckles. injuries are tabulated with cold efficiency (he has, if he's lucky, ninety seconds of consciousness) and itachi grabs finn by the scruff with his right hand, heedless of the boy's long hair and gives him a backwards yank.

he intends to throw him into the nearby semi-cover of a depression in the ruins, forcing the dragon to choose between its quarry or the one who foiled it and hoping it will decide on immediate vengeance towards a greater threat than pursue a boy who had cowered away from it.

but intention matters little to reality. what follows instead is described at best as an anemic shove, though at least in the proper direction. rather than trying to speak through the stutter of breath, he sends a text: MOVE. ）