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Piper 90: Mods ([personal profile] goneawaymod) wrote in [community profile] goneawayworld2020-06-24 12:42 am

THE PATHLESS WOODS - PART 1


the pathless woods


PLOT DESCRIPTION
Far to the west, deep in the mountains, there is a forest where none may tread. Superimposed into the wilds, it has only grown wilder. But these once-quiet woods are peaceful no longer. A town built around an iron foundry is encroaching on the wilderness, enraging the spirits within.

Complicating matters: many refugees of the Go-Away war have been taken in by the town's residents, relieved to finally stop their wandering through post-apocalyptic wasteland. They have now made it their home, a place free from Jorgmund's de facto apocalyptic wage enslavement. Some have also been altered by Stuff and have no chance of refuge in the Livable Zone.

Meanwhile, Jorgmund is eyeballing the resources of the forest and wants the New Hires to exacerbate the conflict and convince the humans within to move within the Livable Zone ("for their own good, you see;") to allow for "resource acquisition." The New Hires must choose whether to stay in Jorgmund's good books, and if not, must decide whether to try to mediate the conflict, choose a side, or face the deep, dark dangers of the woods to find two lost people that some of the spirits believe can act as a bridge between two worlds.

All the while, they must fight off "demons," corrupted forest spirits changed by rage and hate. These demons can be influenced by the rage and hate of the New Hires as well.

SCENARIO

As they're driven to the drop off point, the tinted, reinforced windows of the transport vehicles gives them occasional glimpses of but it's not what they might have expected. Thought some areas are burned from fires that ran out of control, this wasteland isn't filled with scorched earth, just the skeletons of buildings slowly being retaken by the wild, trees growing through cracked concrete, vines swarming the outside of abandoned buildings unchecked. Some areas look like spherical chunks were suddenly carved out of reality, sometimes bisecting buildings. Water collects in these hollows in glittering pools that are ringed with moss and flowers.

The price paid for this life renewed was far too high, but the wilderness cares nothing about prices or unfair trades and retakes what once belonged to it faster than it might have in the past, due to the reality-warping influence of Stuff. There are no people in sight. The land is filled with bitter ghosts.

Soon that becomes literal. They start to reach areas that aren't much more scorched than the rest of the world, but there are still remnants of the war that have wandered away from battlefields, the way even the rural countryside might have some errant zombies after a zombie apocalypse. It starts with people in gas masks and military hazmat suits reaching for the convoy as it passes. The drivers blitz past them without stopping, long since used to hazards like this. People in the rear vehicles will see what happens after the first vehicle in the line ignores them - the gear collapses in on itself all of a sudden like no one is wearing it. In other areas driver-less tanks gather in herds like animals, scattering and driving away when the convoy gets close, as if skittish.

They are let out once the roads become too rugged for the vehicles, near the rocky hills they're meant to traverse. They're told the range of the rig's sensors, the outer limits they can go to before the collars claim their lives instantly. For this mission, the range had been extended to about 60 miles instead of the usual 50 because of how far out the settlement they're supposed to contact is from the rig.

The drivers are considerate enough to warn them about Stuff monsters in the countryside, telling them to be on their guard, and to be very careful of who - or what - they trust, because things that seem human often aren't.

Then they have to start a long march and don't run into much trouble until they get into a small valley in the hills in the late afternoon. A caravan of people driving oxen, laden with supplies, is trying to get them through a narrow gap mountain gap. The group is an unusually mixed group, some of the individuals look as if they've been changed by Stuff into something fantastic.

Some Stuff is in the air in this area, mostly solidified but still fluid enough to wreak some havoc. The group, fearing war or running from it, sometimes have their fears projected around them. Waves of unreality occasionally sweep through, briefly plunging everyone into murky strips of time that are shaped by the idea of war. Nothing gory but filled with the pale shadow of it - bullets zip through the air, there's chaotic yelling in fog that's suddenly appeared, the ground is rocked by explosions - but then each strip of unreality passes or can be escaped by simply charging a few steps forward.

What stays consistent in reality or in these strips of unreality is that the supply caravan is under attack and only armed with massive shoulder mounted flintlock rifles. The group will find they can speak to them, that they've suddenly been granted knowledge of a slightly archaic form of Japanese, the common language the mixed group speaks, just like some of the New Hires randomly learned English upon exposure to the rig for the first time.

If they can get the caravan to the mountain gap ahead, they'll leave the dangerous valley behind them.

Some of the threats the group must contend with that are there both inside and outside the weird strips of unreality:

a) demons

The corrupted forms of great beasts of the forest, these massive creatures have been changed to demons by their rage. They scuttle around the group extremely fast, the corruption forming spider-like legs, attacking aggressively, the squirming dark worms on their bodies killing any living vegetation it touches.

The more rage the New Hires feel fighting them, the faster and more powerful they are, as if it fuels them.

If any of this corruption touches someone, it burns right through their clothes, creating a bruise-like blight on their skin, a situation they'll have to find resolution to later - or they'll die.

Many of these demons were once boars but a few are massive deer, their pronged antlers squirming with corrupted essence. They at least can be killed but it will take multiple attacks that actually reach the beast under the corruption to finally put them out of their misery. Once killed, the great beasts have all the flesh dissolve off their bodies until only bones are left. They curse the humans with their dying breaths.

b) Flamethrowers

Not soldiers, not people, these entities are like moving statues of cracked calcification that looks like pale ceramic. Between the cracks in their skins, roiling yellow-white flames can be seen sizzling inside. They attack by getting close to people or grabbing them and suddenly stoking their internal fires so that the flames scorch whoever is near.

They can be killed if the fire is extinguished - fortunately there are streams and other sources of water around the battlefield due to a recent rain. They can also be killed if enough force is used against them, but it takes a lot for the ceramic to crack. If it can be broken or damaged, then they collapse in on themselves and burn away into gray ash.

c) Artillerymen

Phantom soldiers shoot artillery fire from a distance. Fortunately, it is weaker than real artillery, with less fragmentation, but a direct hit can still kill you. They fade and vanish when someone gets close, without needing to even be killed, but their weapons need to be destroyed or new soldiers will coalesce out of the mist and use it again.

d) Samurai

The samurai seem to have the ox drivers and their handlers especially afraid, looming out of the mist to attack with their blades and arrows and fading back into it again. They can be killed if characters are fast enough or get the timing right by attacking and forcing them to reappear in another spot. Fortunately, their movements are somewhat predictable.


OOC DETAILS

This is a multi-part plot. Later parts will involve speaking to npcs in Irontown and deciding how to handle the whole conflict.

Characters will have both canon gear (and clothes, if they prefer it over their field uniforms) and the wilderness supplies described in the gear section of the game mechanics page. They will also be allowed to have canon weapons they came in with or will be given a weapon they're comfortable with.

Feel free to ask questions in the question top-level below.
garmr: (pic#13933110)

[personal profile] garmr 2020-07-16 05:59 am (UTC)(link)
"Not bad for a group of villagers. Makes you wonder how they put this all together."

Podunk townspeople don't often have the ability to hold their own against monsters. Whoever the leader was had trained them well.

As for his arm - it's build is skilled for a medieval blacksmith with no machining tools, but crude by any modern standard. He forwent a gun to keep the bow and cannon, old-fashioned as it may be. It's what his hand knows best.

A corpse is rolled off another one lying beneath it - this one has an arrow or two sticking out of the ribcage. Well then. Time to start pulling these bad boys free.
Edited 2020-07-16 06:01 (UTC)
garmr: (pic#12927697)

[personal profile] garmr 2020-07-16 06:10 am (UTC)(link)
He looks down at the body he was about to step over. Getting rid of the corpses laid in his wake was never really a concern for him, but it would be a problem if it spooked any oxen.

So, considering her suggestion, he nudges one corpse off the edge of the cliff into the abyss below. The one useful thing about being in a narrow mountain path, he supposes.

Guts glances back to check if there were any living stragglers behind them. At first glance he had thought that he'd seen the last of the caravan go on ahead, but he could have missed a merchant or two in the crossfire.
garmr: (pic#13331541)

[personal profile] garmr 2020-07-16 06:30 am (UTC)(link)
"Can't really sense anythin' from it. Once the monsters died, the sting went away."

He reaches up to touch the dried blood of his brand. As far as he could tell, this was just a sizable iron ball. Nothing particularly evil or demonic about it.

"Didn't see any of our own magic-users come with us. Saturday might be able to detect something we can't."

If she was sensitive to the od of his armor, it's possible she could have some insight into this too.
garmr: (pic#13805102)

[personal profile] garmr 2020-07-16 07:13 am (UTC)(link)
"Maybe. I don't know what the spell was, but I do know how it felt."

Familiar as he was with magic, he wasn't a mage himself, sadly.

"She would project her mind into mine, somehow. It was like a tether or a lifeline at sea - her voice would make it easier to keep the armor's current at bay."

Saturday did say she had some kind of magic of her own - maybe she knew a way to work it out?
Edited 2020-07-16 07:14 (UTC)
credit_not_blame: (Default)

Re: 3

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-07-16 06:43 pm (UTC)(link)

"I can do tight," Stacia says reassuringly. "I know people with battle corsets."

She sets about Saturday with ointments and bandages, feeling glad that she isn't a Theurge or a Child of Gaia right now. It's annoying enough to not have a healing gourd to smash on Saturday, it would be even worse if she'd been used to being able to heal something like this with a touch. It takes more of her concentration than cleaning the wound does, so she doesn't keep rambling as she works; though she does finish it off with a few pokes to make sure the bandages stay in place.

"Okay, I think you're set. Let me know if it starts shifting around and we can try it again. I'm not actually that experienced with bandages that aren't also magic armor."

credit_not_blame: (Surprise)

I Say Thee Neigh

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-07-17 04:57 am (UTC)(link)
"Whoa!"

Stacia takes a step back, holding her hands up and keeping a careful eye on Blinky.

"Unless you want him to blink out from under you, you should probably keep him away from me," she says. "Horses don't tend to like me much. Prey animals and all."
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-07-17 05:49 pm (UTC)(link)
"Meditation?" Saturday suggests, mostly joking. "Whatcha good at, anyway? Other'n fighting."
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-07-17 05:57 pm (UTC)(link)
"Agreed." She pats his shoulder, which she can actually reach when he's sitting down. "Sooner the better. At the very least, they'll know what we're dealing with, hey?"

Her calf throbs ominously, and she ignores it completely.
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: 2

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-07-17 06:04 pm (UTC)(link)
"'Sall right, you didn't kidnap me." Her shoulders are still slumped, though. "The mask an' the goggles were from my brother, too. Trynna make up for what a dumbass motherfucker he was, gettin' us technically killed and all. They were cool. Like, this tiger pattern that glowed in the dark - "

She gestures at her face, communicating the general idea that it made her look like an extremely badass and mysterious warrior, at least by her, ah, very specific and unique aesthetics standards. In cyberpunk, mall ninja shit is cool, okay?

" - not to mention it did about everything. Flare comp, night vision, camera, toxin filters, underwater breathing, you name it."
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-07-17 06:10 pm (UTC)(link)
"Like astral projection?" Saturday frowns. "I've never done that. I kinda know how but it's not like, my thing. Maggie'd be able to..."

This is sort of a lie. Saturday has technically astrally jandered a couple times, but they were never on purpose and usually ended with her eyes catching fire or agreeing to be a demon's parole officer. There's a history here, is what she's getting at.

" - I could give it a shot, I guess."

She'll have to practice; the moment of crisis is never a good time to attempt a new technique.

"Should ask around, first, see if anyone else actually like. Does that regularly."
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: 3

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-07-17 06:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Saturday twists and bends, testing the bandages.

"Should oughta work," she declares. "Wish my crew was here. We got a proper healer, you know," she wiggles her fingers in demonstration. "Magic hands."

Then she remember she doesn't want to look ungrateful.

"Not complaining or nothin', just really miss my people. You did a great job."

It just should have been someone else fussing at her, and that knowledge is like a little icy thorn in her heart.
credit_not_blame: (Default)

Re: 3

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-07-17 07:01 pm (UTC)(link)

Stacia laughs, sitting back on her heels.

"Yeah, I wish we had a proper healer too. I don't run with one but I know a few, and they're usually willing to give me magic items to use in case my pack gets in over their heads. Tends not to be a problem, but I did have to break an item over my stupid, regular-ass human boyfriend after he nearly bled out fighting a monster by himself in a back-alley." She winks at Saturday, rising to her feet. "He's not as good at melee as you are."

Her smile softens into a wistful expression as she offers a hand for Saturday to pull herself up with. "I miss my people, too. This whole stupid mess would be less terrible if they were here."

garmr: (pic#12927697)

[personal profile] garmr 2020-07-18 01:16 am (UTC)(link)
"Don't think any magic users came with us from the Rig."

At least, as far as he'd observed from their companions. That whole process was always a bit... close, anyway. It felt odd to ask a stranger to jump into his head. It meant sticking around him when he activates the armor.

He'd rather they just stay away.

"You don't need to do it if you're not sure. You could get caught in the vortex yourself."
71lines: (013)

[personal profile] 71lines 2020-07-19 03:51 am (UTC)(link)
"Ninja or samurai training, I'd guess. Probably samurai." As rare as those guys were, their teachings would spread better to people who couldn't harness chakra. And if any of these people could, they would've. "Still, they would have done better to hire some ninjas."

She leans down and pops one of the arrows out, then tosses it over her shoulder with a noise of disgust. Cracked shaft. The other one, though, is just fine. She tests the setting of the head, gives a satisfied nod, then wipes the gore off on the ground before tucking it into her belt. She'd get a proper quiver later.

"You know, for ghosts, there are some really boring arrowheads here. You'd think that they would have died with their good stuff." Maybe they were looted, though. But who would loot a ghost, wonders the girl with looted weaponry.
heterochrocatic: (026 » Fall down beneath their own weight)

Re: #2

[personal profile] heterochrocatic 2020-07-20 08:20 pm (UTC)(link)
"Saturday!" Catra's voice rips from a raw throat. She watches, almost in slow motion, as the boar's death throes arch out to catch Saturday in the leg. It is dying--her shots are working, but they had not worked fast enough. There's a weak, unhappy grimace as the last of her magazine is dumped into the monstrosity and it finally, finally collapses onto its side for good. Catra reloads as she darts up the field towards Saturday.

"Saturday, your leg--!"
cachedout: (6)

[personal profile] cachedout 2020-07-20 10:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Cayde looks from Stacia to the horse, then back to Stacia. The horse is watching her with all the polite uncertainty of an animal that was just imagined into existence a couple hours ago, but relaxes a fraction when Cayde pats his neck.

"Have you told him that?" Cayde asks. "I hadn't clued him in on your secret life as a chainsaw."
credit_not_blame: (Default)

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-07-21 04:59 pm (UTC)(link)

"Normally, I don't have to tell them," Stacia says, still eyeballing the horse. "They figure it out all on their own. Ask Bunny when we get back, he can smell it on me from across a room."

Blinky isn't giving her the wild-eyed look she remembers from visiting the petting zoo as a kid, though. Maybe it's because he's a semi-imaginary horse? He's clearly solid enough for Cade to steal and sit on, but maybe he doesn't have the same horsey instincts.

wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: 3

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-07-21 05:46 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yeah." Saturday accepts the hand but gets up under her own power. "Lotsa fucking bullshit gets easy when you got your people with you."

She claps her hands together briskly, to get the dust off. "Howcome no regular healer? Seems like you're in a line of work where you'd need it."
credit_not_blame: (Default)

Re: a

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-07-21 06:09 pm (UTC)(link)

Stacia snarls and snaps her dagger-like teeth, but most of her energy goes into evading the monstrosity. She doesn't want to touch it. It looks corrupt, it looks like corruption, and she has no idea of the Rite of Cleansing would work here even if she had enough people to perform it properly. Still, her Rage boils within her, craving this thing's blood on the ground and under her claws.

...Is it just her, or does it seem to be healing from the hole Loken put in it?

wheyoftheadept: (Default)

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-07-21 06:27 pm (UTC)(link)
"If you're gonna insist on using something that's barely safe with a backup, then you gotta at least have the backup," she says sternly. This, too, is wisdom from her father: he had a lot of things to say about using cool flashy powerful stuff with obvious drawbacks and thinking you could pay on credit. He'd been very clear that it never works out in the end.

"Let's make some time to see if I can get the knack, okay? I don't gotta do it great, just enough to redirect your armor's thing. Even I can do that much."
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: #2

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-07-21 07:46 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'm okay!" Saturday calls out, at soon as she determines that she is. And she's pretty sure she is. A swipe at the back of her leg leaves no blood on her fingertips. It hurts like a bruise, that's all. "I think it just grazed me!"

She pulls the leg into her lap, frowning. No wound, just a purpling, bruiselike stain.

"Yeah, didn't break the skin."

She does have mud all down her side, though.
credit_not_blame: (Default)

Re: 3

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-07-21 11:00 pm (UTC)(link)

"You'd think, wouldn't you?" Stacia shrugs, then shakes her head. "Mostly, we just haven't found one who isn't either better suited to or already in another pack. And we haven't really needed to specifically look for one because in spite of the fact my pack is -- was short-tempered on our best days, we were also kind of the local diplomats. Anytime somebody needed to deal with some other asshole werewolves, they'd bring us along to be charming and charismatic and juuust scary enough that everyone decided that playing nice was in their best interests."

She sobers, glancing away into the trees.

"When someone did decide to gun for us, they made sure to split us up first. Even if we'd had a healer, they wouldn't have been able to get there in time to help."

She shakes her head again, most vigorously this time, like she's trying to shake something off. But memories and guilt cling more tenaciously than water.

greyerrant: (There is only war)

[personal profile] greyerrant 2020-07-22 05:08 am (UTC)(link)
Loken nods and charges the second position, brandishing the chainsword until the gunners fade,and says, "Your turn!" as he continues to stand around looking menacing, hoping their luck against the ghostly foes continues.

Edited 2020-07-22 05:08 (UTC)
greyerrant: (Oathsworn Protector)

[personal profile] greyerrant 2020-07-22 05:33 am (UTC)(link)
Loken nods, fractionally, and rumbles, "Well, we should bring it to her, if you think it is important or dangerous, and I expect it might well be."

He pauses, and says more softly, "I have found, though, that the leavings of demons are often as dangerous as the beings themselves. You should be cautious of handling it."

He raises an eyebrow at Loken's comments about the sting, and asks "Can you sense demons coming, or the like?" Not letting on he has his own ability to do so, at least in some cases.
greyerrant: (Oathsworn Protector)

Re: 2

[personal profile] greyerrant 2020-07-22 05:36 am (UTC)(link)
"It sounds like your wargear was quite imposing." THat's the diplomatic way of saying it sounds a little like mall ninja stuff to him. "SOme of the skitarii support units used similar iconography or feral stylings to emphasize their ferocity. As for myself and my brothers..." He gestures to his pauldron, and the wolf blazoned on it. "We were a bit more subdued in our displays" Nevermind the Word bearers, Blood Angels, or the Night Lords and how they decorated their armor with script, artisan highlights, or just straight up flayed skin from their foes.

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