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goneawayworld2020-06-24 12:42 am
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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.
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.
➤ 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.
these techniques are not actually good dog training but it's an astral hellhound sue me
"I don't have all the information yet," she continues. "Dunno exactly what you are, though I get the general idea. Dunno how tied you are to Guts. But I do know one thing."
And now she advances on the astral thing, which she sees as slightly to Guts' left. The sinister side.
"Guts is a good person. If you work like the other things I've met, an' I think you do, the only real power you got is convincin' him that he ain't. As long as he's got a reason to resist you, he will. And I will make sure he always does have a reason, because things like you annoy the hell out of me."
She crouches in front of the demon-hound, and fast as a snake grabs its muzzle in both hands, glaring into its pale eyes without blinking. Not a demand for submission, yet, but it could become one very quickly.
"So play. fucking. nice. Capiche?"
(tw for awful gore dream)
A shadowy smoke envelops them both, darkening into a vision of the beast free of its bonds. This form stands upright, massive and hunched forward, left arm made of jagged iron. An ethereal version of Saturday appears in the vision as well, thrust into a heated battle as it desired. The fighting and spilling of its own blood made the beast feel alive.
Eventually, it leaps to pin her dream-self down beneath its black-furred bulk, quicker than a large thing should be. Her sword arm is wrenched free with a furious thrashing of its jaws, leaving what it wanted intact. The thing keeps their bodies pressed together, possessive of its struggling prey. It is warm from blood-mottled fur and body heat. Metal claws rake slowly over skin and cloth, splitting open flesh with careful ease. It is a grotesque mockery of intimacy in a pool of wet viscera. Its maw drips hungrily as it begins to feast on its spoils, flesh and bone crunching in its teeth.
"It is only a matter of time...."
When the illusion ends, the hound has vanished. It had slithered quietly back into the dark from where it came, chains rattling behind it.
Guts tries not to look shaken, remaining dead silent as he stares emptily ahead. His hand is clenched so tightly he would have broken skin were it not for the wrappings. As much as Saturday seemed to be handling it, he can't help but feel consumed with a deep dread. The creature had been so dormant on Elfhelm, its return was like a cruel, dizzying whiplash.
no subject
So she smooths out every last hint of hesitation, smiles with the full solar force of her charm, and pats his shoulder.
"That went well, I think."
no subject
"This was reckless. I shouldn't have thrust this on you so suddenly."
He would have never said any such thing two years ago - it was a complete contradiction given his fighting style - but the thought of her being hurt because of him... It wasn't just upsetting. It felt monstrous.
No, he'd been too naive. Stupid. Saturday was her own person, he knew that, but the creature wasn't a thing made of reason. Of course it would take a special glee in getting its fangs into her. It was a barely caged mess of emotions - and some part of him... wanted...
He crosses his arms as he turns his back to her, hiding the way his good hand was digging into the flesh of his other arm beneath his cloak. It takes a moment for him to relax himself.
"It would be better if we find someone else to do this. I can manage until then."
no subject
Saturday blows hair out of her face. "I volunteered, didn't I? If I hadn'ta made my point it wouldnt'a needed to make a big show outta scarin' you."
She lets him turn away, turning herself to give him his privacy, but adds:
"It's just a bully, when you get down to it. I'm not afraid of it."
no subject
"Never got that reaction before when the witch did her spell. Guess you really pissed it off."
She wasn't afraid. Not at all. This surprises him.
"I can't say what'll happen when the armor's woken up. You sure you want to do this?"
no subject
"An' it wasn't a spell. Dunno any spells. All my magic is - bodies and fightin'. Whatever your girl does to keep it under wraps, I'm gonna have to just straight up kick its ass til it accepts I'm queen bitch of fuck-you mountain."
She sounds a little more serene about it than she is. It's not a fight she's looking forward to, simply an inevitable one which she is not permitted to lose. Like every other fight in her life, lately.
"I'm still game if you are. Think we ought to tell some of the others, though, people who've got experience with magical bullshit. Kaylin'd be one, her people are way into spirits and the astral if I'm rememberin' right. Never hurts to have a team."
no subject
The two of them seemed to share in common, along with the dismal rage. He hates how familiar it is - a struggling, thrashing, writhing thing that refuses to accept defeat. No matter how much he wants it to shut up, it manages to crawl back to life.
Guts turns around to face her, having gathered his composure. He listens to her suggestion and nods in agreement. It is a comfort, somehow, to imagine that more than one person might be able to help.
"A team ain't a bad idea. If you think Stacia can help with this, I can explain the situation to her. Same goes for anyone else you trust."
no subject
She turns around. "We better get back to the column."