THE PATHLESS WOODS - PART 1

[goneawaymod]

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.

Comments

[princesspower]

March or Die

Adora isn't used to a lot of this. This is war like she's used to and also is used to. There's chaos and blood and explosions and fire, but it's also strange and haunting. More like some parts of the Whispering Woods than any actual combat. She's been weighed down with equipment and that's also way different from what she's used to, but she's dealing with it. The trail is rugged and jagged and she's mingling with most of the caravaneers, trying to get a better understanding of where they're going and what's going on. The answers are a little vague, although they definitely seem to appreciate the reinforcements that the small band of hires represent.

Their weapons are strange, too, but Adora can't really complain. She's used to a sword and magic. Not... this. Even so, she's making it work.

She turns to wave down one of her fellow newcomers with a frown, pointing back up the path, the way they're moving, "So, I think we should organize ourselves - what if we break the path for them? Deal with anything that gets in the way? That does leave the rest exposed, but I'm worried about trouble up front - if we stall too much we might get bogged down."

She's thinking real hard about this.

2. Charlie's in the Trees

Adora wasn't expecting cannons, honestly. She thought she'd left that behind. But here they are, getting bombed by some distant artillerymen (or not-so-distant; they're a hill or two forward). Adora flinches, half-crouched next to a rock as one of the shells explodes a dozen or so meters away. She cranes her neck, trying to find someone she can wave down.

"We should move up and take care of them-!"

She gestures, yelling to try and be heard over the dull thud of the exploding shells.

"If we don't, we're going to lose everyone! Are you with me?"

3. Wildcard

Make up your own.

2

[greyerrant]

Loken nods to the blonde human and says, "Agreed. Let us go." And he hurls himself up the slope, posthuman form thundering towards the artillery with seeming recklessness. He bellows from his voxcaster as he crests the hill, "Kill for the living! Kill for the dead!" And continues his charge.

[princesspower]

Wait, what? Adora is getting ready to sketch out a basic plan of attack, but this guy just goes charging off. Which is usually her job, honestly. She blinks and then follows in his wake, scrambling up the slope, trying to lug weapons and gear with her.

This was so much easier when she was She-Ra.

[greyerrant]

Once Loken clears the hill, and manages to get line of sight on the artillery, he opens up with the bolter, firing a disturbingly accurate burst from the hip towards the ghost artillerymen, then continues his charge, though several near misses knock him down at least temporarily, armor buzzing wildly as he heaves himself upright.

[princesspower]

Adora is struggling to keep up. She's in good physical condition, but she's not really post-human genetic super-soldier physical condition. She manages to catch him blast away at some of the ghost artillerymen and she follows in his wake, keeping an eye out for other threats that might actually pose a threat to him.

Weird feeling playing backup.

"I don't think our weapons can actually hurt them!"

[greyerrant]

Loken will scramble into cover, hearing that, rethinking his headlong assault as another blast nearby causes him to crouch down further, scrabbling for a frag grenade to return some degree of destruction back to his foes.

"What do you suggest then, Mamzel?"

[princesspower]

"Mamzel...?" Adora furrows her brow. Not the time to think about weird modes of address. She shakes her head and nods upward as another barrage of shells goes racing overhead.

"Do you think we can disable their guns? If we let them keep this up, they're just going to blow us away! Even if we can't do anything to the gunners, the guns have to be real - right?"

[greyerrant]

"Use these, then!" Loken gestures with his frag grenade, now freed from his belt and in his hand. "I was considering spiking them manually, but I can throw these as well. Do you have any?" The offer implied if she does not. Loken is always willing to share explosives with allies.

[princesspower]

"These'll probably work great!" Adora perks up, a grim smile covering her face as she takes one of the frag grenades and tucks it into a pocket.

"I think the best bet would be putting them down the barrel, right? Since this is mostly... shrapnel and that's not going to do much to a hunk of metal."

[greyerrant]

"Yes. Would you prefer to make the attempt to close the distance or should I? Or go together?"

Loken honestly isn't sure which option is best, given the intangible nature of their foes. It's one thing to fight invisibles, another thing entirely to fight intangibles.

[princesspower]

"We should go together, probably... just... make sure I can keep up with you, OK? I'm not exactly She-Ra right now," Adora manages a grim smile and hefts her weapon, "Otherwise - let's go-!"

Adora starts out again, scrambling up the slope. She has one hand for the hill, one for her weapon. It's a tough climb - she can feel her lungs protesting and her muscles burning - but there's no way she can turn back.

[greyerrant]

"er, yes." Loken will admit to not knowing who She-Ra is, but at this point it doesn't look terribly important.

He moves up beside her, hand holding a frag grenade in one hand, the bolter in the other, more out of custom than practical use against the phantom gunners. He uses his elbow to lever himself up instead of a hand for the hill, never losing grip on the weapon, or putting it away now that the foe is in sight. He takes the hill the same way he does everything else, just another part in a larger battle.

[princesspower]

It's a long, long scramble, with loose soil scattering behind them. She can hear her blood rushing in her ears and hear her own ragged breathing. By the time they reach the first gun position, she's flushed and halfway to exhaustion, but she keeps going. The spectral gunners fade away as they approach and she darts toward the first one.

"Start with this one-!"

March or die

[wheyoftheadept]

"I ain't against it." Saturday cracks her neck, thoughtful. "But what we ought to have is scouts. Who do we got that's quick an' quiet?"

She's been keeping to the front herself, head on a swivel, but its not enough. Even Guts'... whatever he's got going on... isn't quite the warning she'd like. There are too many potential threats. Scouts will let the heavies stay with the vulnerable carriages, and form a rearguard and bulwark against anything that slips the scouting net.

[princesspower]

Adora pulls a face. She's still learning what everyone can do. She shifts her gear a little, trying to better balance the weight.

"I know Tenten is pretty sneaky... maybe Doreen and Stacia? They're both good at it. Uh - Catra could probably handle it, too..."

As reluctant as she is to send her friend into danger, she still suggests her. She's good at what she does.

[wheyoftheadept]

"Four sounds about right. Point, flanks, and rear." Saturday nods her head. "I'll pass word around."

Everyone here is someone Saturday's pegged as a professional, even if she's still learning what they can do. And frankly, Catra with a job is less prone to getting into trouble than Catra without a job. She's not entirely happy that they sent the girl into the field so soon after brutalizing her, but didn't particularly expect better, either.

[princesspower]

Adora pauses for a moment and glances away, then back. Well. Maybe she should-

"Hey, Saturday? Uh - how has Catra seemed to you?"

Since, you know, everything.

[wheyoftheadept]

"Sore, pissed, coping." Saturday shrugs, swallowing black anger reflexively. Someone was gonna get got sooner or later, and Catra was pushing it. Didn't make it right, just - another damn thing to put on the scale when the came time to weigh Jorgmund's worth.

"She's angry, which means she ain't beat. All you can ask for."

[princesspower]

"That's... pretty much how she seemed to me," Adora admits. There's not a lot else she can do, though. Catra keeps herself closed off, even from her. Especially from her. It's hard to figure out what to do about it - mostly she's just worried.

"I mean, I could ask for a lot more, but yeah - yeah. I just feel so helpless..."

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday shifts her pack on her shoulders before she answers, pulling a strap here, straightening some cloth there.

"You ain't, though," she says at last. "You're alive, you're healthy, an' your mind is your own. You're surrounded by allies. You got your - important person," don't say loved one, don't say loved one; don't draw the connection between Catra and Adora and yourself and Maggie. "We're in a bad patch, but if we put one foot in front of th' other an' keep ourselves sharp, we'll get out of it. All of us."

She means every word, says it with a heroic conviction. It's not the whole truth. The whole truth is never inspiring, no matter how nice it is; there's always blood and bone at the bottom. But the truth she's telling now is the truth that keeps you going. Which, when you get down it, is the only truth that matters.

"I mean, at least Jorg didn't raise ya, right?" She nudges Adora with her elbow in a friendly way. "You can just hate 'em straight out without getting confused. It's the little things like that."

[princesspower]

Adora's left looking a little glum. She knows that Saturday is trying to cheer her up and she understands that things will probably get better, that this is just the start. They'll make it. She believes that (has to believe it), but she still feels down. Even out here, on a mission - although maybe especially out here, since she doesn't really want to be doing Jorgmund's dirty work. She sighs and adjust her pack.

"I guess. I'd rather be indifferent - hating takes up a lot of energy..."

[wheyoftheadept]

"Then be indifferent. The point is, you can feel however you like about 'em, because they don't mean shit to you. That's nice. A clear-cut enemy and simple situation is a lot more than you usually get."

No one's fallen in love with a Jorgmund exec or anything stupid like that, hopefully. She thinks guiltily of Kira and the damn princess for a moment, then puts it away. One foot in front of the other.

"Does suck, though."

[princesspower]

"You can't just be indifferent about the people who torture their employees..." Adora frowns. She was never indifferent about Shadow Weaver either. She just can't emotionally detach herself like that, honestly.

"I mean, I can't, anyway... Can you?"

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday gives her a quizzical look. "Sure? Not every person you gotta kick the ass of is worth gettin' worked up about. Might be hard with Jorg, though." She thinks a bit, then pulls a thoughtful frown. "Might be smart, too. Jorg's got us in a bad place but end of the day, they're still mortal an' they'll die if you kill 'em."

She really doesn't mean that as grimly as it sounds. Jorg makes her feel - well, it's Maggie's kidnapping all over again, isn't it? Black, boiling, helpless rage, no target and no outlet. If she didn't find ways to chew it up and swallow it, she'd explode.

"Anyway, I wouldn't call us employees. Slave's is the right word."

[princesspower]

"Slave, employee, soldier - whatever - it's basically the same thing right now," Adora grumbles, "And I'm not even sure I want to kill them - I just - they're doing all these terrible things to us and I can't just disassociate myself from that. I can't pretend that I don't care about them. It's just - I can't do it."

Which is really one of her hangups, honestly. She cares a lot about a lot of different things.