goneawaymod: (Default)
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.
greyerrant: (Dynamic entry)

Re: a

[personal profile] greyerrant 2020-07-22 05:41 am (UTC)(link)
Loken notices the healing, and snarls, hurling himself bodily at the creature and slamming it back, giving Stacia an opening to strike a telling blow after he uses himself as a ceramite and flesh battering ram. He grunts, the claws having ripped a fairly deep cut in his forearm and a hole having been punched in the meat of his thigh in his charge.
princesspower: (but I'm flying like a bird to you now)

[personal profile] princesspower 2020-07-23 04:54 pm (UTC)(link)
OK; she has a grenade, there are howitzers. Easy. She's done this before.

Sort of.

She arms the grenade and shoves it down a barrel and then scurries away before it goes off. She's still panting for breath and every part of her is singing with adrenaline. It's a crazy time. But maybe now they can catch a bit of a breather.

"I don't... I don't think I got your name..."
princesspower: (What a time to be alive)

bleh sorry for delay

[personal profile] princesspower 2020-07-23 04:55 pm (UTC)(link)
"...mostly fighting," Adora admits, "That's what I spent my whole life preparing for a war. And uh, well, I guess I'm still in one, but it's a little different."
credit_not_blame: (Default)

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-07-23 09:00 pm (UTC)(link)

"...I can't tell if you're not big on talking or if you're annoyed with me," Stacia says as the body tumbles away. "Is this about the fact I ran off? Because I was running off to get a good sniper position, not because I was abandoning everyone."

credit_not_blame: (Default)

Re: a

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-07-23 09:16 pm (UTC)(link)

Ahrouns! Even when the people around her aren't actually Garou, they're always fucking Ahrouns!

Stacia tears a sturdy branch from a nearby tree and drives the jagged end into the demon-thing's healing wound. She throws her not-inconsiderable weight behind it, hoping to give Loken some room to breathe and fall back if not outright kill the thing.

garmr: (pic#12927697)

[personal profile] garmr 2020-07-24 08:14 am (UTC)(link)
“Not sure about that. I didn’t see these samurai make use of any guns like they did. Lot more arrows and swords.”

Those rifles really did make a difference here. Lighter than the cast iron cannons he knew but not quite as alien as Jorgmund’s weapons. Instead of every spare merchant or villager getting a polearm they had one of those guns.

Not that he was complaining. Facing down an army with rifles would be much harder than The cozy familiarity of mowing down spooky horse archers.
garmr: (pic#13805102)

[personal profile] garmr 2020-07-24 08:29 am (UTC)(link)
“No, I appreciate you watching my back. Fighting all bunched together would be bad on a narrow road.”

It was a little weird that she’d chose the back line with her abilities but - hey, that choice is up to her. He’s not going to stop her. It’s easier for him to swing a seven foot sword around when someone else wasn’t in the way. That was part of the reason he liked hanging at the rear of the caravan.
garmr: (pic#12927697)

[personal profile] garmr 2020-07-24 08:46 am (UTC)(link)
He’ll put it in his pouch for now. Guts has been running low on cursed demonic artifacts since Jorg took the behelit, anyway. As for the sensing, though...

“Yeah. This mark attracts demons to me.”

He has no problem revealing this, turning his head away to show the brand embedded in his skin. Though it’s slow oozing had stopped, the scar had a red smear of drying blood as if it had just been freshly carved.

“It lets me feel when they get closer. The stronger the pain, the closer it is.”
garmr: (pic#13933111)

[personal profile] garmr 2020-07-24 03:01 pm (UTC)(link)
"Okay..."

She's definitely right on that account. Jumping in with no back-up plan is a terrible idea, and he knew it. The best case scenario where he miraculously manages to wrangle back some control would still be incredibly risky.

"Not sure if there's any good way to give you practice. Can't really half-activate this thing."
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: 3

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-07-24 10:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Saturday nods her understanding. "You can deal with the nice man talking, or you can deal with his big muscley friends and their fuckoff guns. Been on all three sides of that one."

She recognizes in Stacia what the werewolf had seen in her, earlier: the twin and twined desires to talk and not talk about something that isn't your fault, except for all the ways that it is.

"That's the one drawback with a tight crew," she says quietly. "Love's stronger'n'money, but it takes more outta you. You wanna talk about it, or forget about it?"
credit_not_blame: (Default)

Re: 3

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-07-24 10:39 pm (UTC)(link)

Stacia makes a noise not unlike laughter when Saturday says that love is stronger but takes more.

"I mean, if you don't mind listening to me stretch my emotional scar tissue? It all went down a couple months before I popped up here, so it's still sensitive. Not as bad as it could be, we found out who did it and karma got them good, but..." She makes the not-quite-laughter noise again. "I think it's going to be painful for a really long time."

wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: 2

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-07-24 11:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Saturday gives his massive, hulking suit of bolted-together plate iron, each pauldron the size of his actual head, a very dry and deadpan look.

"Yeah, I can see the Imperium of Man's got a real subtle aesthetic."

She shrugs. "My line of work, advertising pays. Also, people see the gear, they don't see the person; easier to fly low when needed. And it looks cool, dammit."

The last part she says with the grumble of a woman who is frankly used to this reaction.
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: 3

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-07-25 01:44 am (UTC)(link)
"Three days before I got stuck here, the first person I'd ever - you know - been with - died from a horror infection, trynna save his - kids, basically. An' it didn't even work." Saturday says bluntly. "Fuckers took me the night of his funeral. If you gotta work it out, then - I get it."

It's an invitation, though it's worded oddly. No one here seems to have been taken at a good time; everyone here needs to be at their best. So let's see if we can look after each other.

"Sometimes you need to say the shit out loud, or it ain't real and you can't get hold of it."
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: bleh sorry for delay

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-07-26 05:01 pm (UTC)(link)
"No one can say you ain't ready for this shit, though," Saturday points out with slightly artificial cheer. "Anyway, wasn't patience part of your training?"

It had sure been a part of hers. So many drills... and pops never did quite get her to stop going off half-cocked.

Actually getting someone killed had, but that's another story.
heterochrocatic: (218 » You said the gun was mine)

Re: #2

[personal profile] heterochrocatic 2020-07-26 05:06 pm (UTC)(link)
"Idiot. Why did you do that?" What Catra means by that question isn't clear.

Why did you get in my way?

Why did you put yourself in danger?

Why did you save me?


She reaches down to offer a hand to Saturday so she can help the other woman to her feet, her brow furrowed.

"..At least we killed it."
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-07-26 05:07 pm (UTC)(link)
"Maybe if I turn on my third eye I can see where the levers are?" she suggests. "It's been kinda on the fritz since I arrived, but Big Ugly here," she indicates the armor, "ain't subtle. Shouldn't be hard to see it."

She stretches out her metal hand. "An' this arm is magic, so usually it can like. Touch magic stuff, like ghosts and spirits an' such. So maybe at least I can beat it down if it gets obstreperous."
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: #2

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-07-26 05:28 pm (UTC)(link)
"It's a fight, Catra. You needed a target an' I kept it in your fireline."

Saturday hops to her feet without visible distress, though a keen observer might notice a slight wince when she puts weight on the foot the boat tagged.

"I'm fine, you good?"
garmr: (pic#13331541)

[personal profile] garmr 2020-07-27 07:02 am (UTC)(link)
"Wouldn't hurt to try. When could you do it?"

Having seen Schierke do her spells, he isn't sure if that means Saturday might go into a trance-like state while she takes a look at the armor's astral self. Trudging up the mountains makes that a bit inconvenient - especially if there's an attack in the middle of it.

Better than figuring it out after he's activated it himself, he supposes.
heterochrocatic: (026 » Fall down beneath their own weight)

Re: #2

[personal profile] heterochrocatic 2020-07-31 03:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Catra doesn't look happy with the answer she's got from Saturday in that regard. She doesn't say anything, though, just slings her carbine and moves to support Saturday--from the non-muddy side. Don't say anything.

"I'm okay. You shouldn't have done that. I was fine."
71lines: (013)

[personal profile] 71lines 2020-08-03 02:34 am (UTC)(link)
"Samurai have guns?" She frowns, considering. It didn't quite seem their style. Then again, she'd never even heard of a gun before coming here, so that might just be another world difference.

Weird to think of other worlds and how close, but different, some could be.

Another arrow joins her collection. Several more are broken somehow-ruined fletchings, broken shafts, heads useless.

"Where I'm from, they just use swords. Bows too, but mostly katanas."
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-08-03 10:39 pm (UTC)(link)
"Pretty much anytime we can find fifteen minutes to focus on it." Saturday grins a little lopsidedly. "The nice thing about my kind'a magic is you don't need anything but focus to do it. Don't gotta trance out or nothin', just open the, you know." She taps the middle of her forehead, over her 'third eye'. Then she hesitates.

"...mind you, I've had some real spectacular luck with it. Like. Getting sucked into another dimension by mistake kinda luck. Or my eyes gettin' burned out... not all the time!" she hastens to assure him. "But for me it's like, if it's gonna go wrong it's gonna go all the wrong. So middle of the column wouldn't be the best place."

It's fine, everything is fine. They are both very reasonable, mature, sensible magic-botherers.
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: #2

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-08-03 11:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Saturday shrugs. "I wanted to fight alongside you. Thought it'd be neat to see how we gelled. Don't think it was a half-bad job, neither."

The cavalier attitude isn't a put on. It's been the bane of Saturday's loved ones since she was a kid, so at least Catra's in good company. She shrugs off Catra's help.

"I'm all right, no worries. You better go refill your ammo, I think you emptied the whole belt into that bastard."
credit_not_blame: (Neutral)

Re: 3

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-08-04 06:22 am (UTC)(link)
"Oof," Stacia says, sympathetically. "I mean, I'm definitely taking you up on the talking about my recent shit, but do you also want to talk about your recent shit? Or forget about it?"

Horror infection, kids, a very close friend. No good there at all.
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

Re: 3

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2020-08-04 09:22 pm (UTC)(link)
"Dunno yet," Saturday says, leaning back again, arms crossed behind her head. "It's - part 'a me, I don't want it to be real. Don't wanna make it that way. You know?"

It's easier to put away the closed, hot warehouse, the bodies in the circle, the pulse of Caim's heart slowing. Hold on as tight as you can and they'll slip away anyhow. No miracles this time, no precious destiny to step in and save the day. Only the heroes get that. Everyone else falls on the wayside.

Sick fucking system, any way you cut it. Makes a body wonder if the horrors don't have a point.

"We could make it a drinking game," she suggests, so it can be a joke. "Never have I ever helplessly watched a love one die, that sort of thing. At least we'll be drunk at the end, hey?"
credit_not_blame: (Default)

Re: 3

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-08-04 10:43 pm (UTC)(link)

"Sounds like a plan liable to end up with us setting something on fire to make an offering to the dead," Stacia says. "I'm in. Just know my ear's open if you decide you want it. But try to hold off until I'm not asleep; I wake up swinging."

She shifts her weight, checking to make sure that no one's started moving yet.

"I can start from two different angles on this, I guess," she says. "How they died, or who they were. You're gonna get both, but you can pick which one you want to start with and end on."

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