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expiationlogs2023-11-25 09:31 am
{event #5.5} adversity 3386435.8364
| MOD NOTES: Please direct any questions to the corresponding comment below. Note that character decisions and actions taken on these prompts will affect future events, storylines, and relationships with other peoples of Expiation. - The kidnapped and attempted kidnapped have been chosen. - All questions will be answered and addressed by the 28th, as half of the mod team is being slayed by Thanksgiving weekend. - If you wish, you may give a summary of what has happened to your character here. There will be no poll for this part of the event. - There is a CONTENT WARNING for prompt iv. RED SKY AT MORNING for brief mention of suicide. - Reminder that there is possibility for character death in this part of the event. The various prompts are, of course, optional. |
Until now, the Chosen have enjoyed a fair bit of hospitality during their stay in Rumpitur, and Ketsora’s attitude aside, they’ve been made to feel quite welcome. After the first several days, the kidnapping investigation seems to hit a quiet lull, leading to Rumpiturian demeanors becoming…strangely relieved? Starting the 26th or so, Chosen will begin seeing news of various meetings–Rumpiturians only. They may think little of it, for now.
Overnight on the 27th, this changes.
NOVEMBER 28TH
The early morning brings a few discoveries–this will be different for different groups, as determined by results of the RNG selection. Those who didn’t sign up for RNG (or who were not chosen) will wake and discover that some of their friends are missing, with little evidence to point at what has happened.
The Rumpiturians are tight-lipped about this development, but some attempted kidnappees among the Chosen may be willing to talk about what happened to them. Those who go looking for answers will find a trail of struggle signs (drag marks, an occasional discarded rag or blunt object) leading from the inns all the way to the docks, where their one remaining boat is still chained up…at a different berth from before. One of the boathouses, previously locked and unavailable, also stands ajar: it contains a small stack of rowboats in various states of repair, all seemingly free for the taking.
Those who have made friends with the Rumpiturians will be able to access information a little easier. Tug on their heartstrings and they may even whisper that while they don't know anything for sure, they would check the island ruins off the mainland first.
The characters chosen by RNG have a very different experience. They wake in the morning with their faces in the dirt, cold and a little woozy, very much outside and in an unfamiliar place. They can see the water…some sort of island, perhaps? On the north side is a tall ruin, a building facade with no interior remaining. Those who have looked across the sea from Rumpitur may recognize it: the Ruins of Forlinet.
The Chosen have no idea how they got here, for the most part. They may hazily remember some hints of suspicious activity designed to get them alone, they may even recall being knocked out or rendered unconscious. Maybe they remember going to sleep in their bed. Either way, they are here now, and there are no boats. No way to get off the island. The only thing they can see is the ocean barring them from returning from the mainland, and a forested island to explore. They have no personal items on them–most kidnappers aren't kind enough to bring you your stuff–but those still wearing charms will find that they still work. They seem to be at the outer limits of their range, and there may be some static, but they can still send voice or text messages this way.
So. What now?
NOVEMBER 29 - DECEMBER 4
Whether by way of clues or straight from the mouth of an attempted victim, the Chosen remaining on the mainland are slowly able to piece together what has happened to their missing friends: they have been kidnapped by Rumpiturians and sent offshore to the Ruins of Forlinet.
Why? A younger Rumpiturian, cornered after messing up and letting someone escape, is willing to talk. He's too terrified to say much, but the most useful thing he says is this:
”We haven’t been able to find another way! The monster…it drains the life from our lands! It leaves us alone if we feed it well enough, so…so…”
The Chosen are able to find, through this admission, that it’s the Rumpiturians who have been behind the other kidnappings as well, for similar reasons. That they thought the Chosen would be onto them, so they faked a kidnapping of their own to throw off suspicion. That they’ve been doing this for a long time to stave off the mysterious blight caused by an even more mysterious creature.
And now, it seems, they want to make the Chosen into its next meal.
Rumpiturians will offer resistance if the Chosen try to get past them, to the docks and the boats. If they save their friends, then the Rumpiturians will be left at the mercy of this creature. But can they really leave their friends out there…?
Any who dare to get past the Rumpiturians and to the boats will find that the waters are a little choppier than they had been days prior, and that it will take some effort to get to the island. But with enough luck, and some basic boating knowledge (we’re talking really basic, like “this is how you row”), they will be able to make it within the day. However, not all is as it seems: as the boats make land, human-sized octopus-like monsters will descend upon the shores, dragging whatever they can into the water and revealing unnatural rows of sharp teeth in the process. They’ll take whatever they can get: boats, shoes, weapons, people, and anything they get their tands (tentacles?) on will be torn apart. They may follow inland a bit, but not more than a few yards past the shore.
Those who were unfortunate enough to wake in the Ruins will have plenty of time to explore during the next several days…and a good thing, too, because they can learn quite a bit about their predicament by doing so. The island is fairly long, but thin; find a high enough vantage point and they can see from one end of the island to the other. There is also a fair amount of rubble and garbage around–or what looks like garbage. Looking closer at it, it looks more like personal effects left behind by someone long gone. Items of clothing, weapons (swords, spears, and bows), perhaps the remains of some non-perishable food: canned goods, bars, things like that. These things look old, as if they’ve been left out in the elements for months, but most are still in shape to be used.
As they explore the island, the Chosen will see a number of alarming things. First, bones, all humanoid in appearance, some intact and some in pieces, as if they’ve been fractured by some force. There are some that form complete skeletons, but not all do, and they are scattered as if they’ve been tossed here and there. Second, they will see a number of trees that seem to have been downed either at the roots or by being torn in half. It looks like this island has seen some struggle. Most alarming, they will be able to find a handful of charms, not unlike the ones some of them wear. Not unlike the locals from Aldrip. One or two of these can be accessed for a moment, confirming what they may be dreading: this is where the missing locals were taken. And there’s no sign of the people these charms belonged to.
Near a small freshwater pond in the middle of the island, the Chosen will find the remains of a tent. There’s a cooking pot and a recessed firepit, as if someone spent quite a bit of time here: days, maybe weeks. There is some canned food here, and fishing materials, along with the freshwater in the pond. Inside the tent, they’ll find a number of articles of clothing, as well as another charm, this one a little more worn with age. They’ll find some text messages still embedded within it.
Three days on this blasted island and no sign of any reason why we are here. Food supplies are dwindling, and so is morale. They look to me for advice on what to do next. I wish I had an answer. I wish I knew why.
Day five. Ainsworth flung himself into the ocean, attempting to swim to the mainland for help. We watched him swim into the deep water. We watched something grab him from below and pull him down. We watched in horror as the water began to churn, and pieces of him began to drift away. Are we going to die here?
Day seven. They’re dead. They’re all dead. The monstrous creature rose from the sea and swallowed them all. It took them into its tentacled arms and drained the life from them. I do not know how I escaped, but maybe it cannot reach me here, in the very center of the island, so far from the water. I am terrified. I see their faces when I close my eyes. This is hell.
Day eight. It came back. It has come back and it’s coming for me. I hear it storming through the trees. I know nothing but death awaits me here, but I will leave my charm in hopes that someone will find it. That someone will learn of what has happened to me. If anyone else is unlucky enough to find themselves here: run. Find some way to run, and never come back. All who come here are dead. All who come here will die.
At the south end of the island, a grisly sight awaits. Around a dozen human remains, decked in the tattered, weathered scraps of cloaks, their bodies worn down to bones and surrounded by the damp smell of decay. Those who have been in Aldrip long enough will recognize these robes: the cultists who previously caused so much trouble for them. So that's where they went. There are few personal artifacts around, though each of them seems to have some sort of small, handheld weapon. Looking close enough to one of the dead bodies, the Chosen can find scraps left in a leather-bound book: handwritten, clearly some sort of journal. The only legible article reads as such:
Who Were There welcome us into their arms and into the loving embrace of paradise.
Damn these evil creatures and their accursed city. Damn them all.”
To the east, the Chosen will find the ocean; off in the distance, if the weather is clear and cloudless, they can see the mainland, a bare sliver on the horizon. If the drag marks in the dirt are any indication, this seems to be where the Rumpiturians have been landing on shore and dumping victims. For how long? It’s hard to say. There are no boats to be found, but there may be some scraps of old vessels: wooden boards, some tattered sailcloth. Not much, but it’s better than nothing.
DECEMBER 5
The promised day arrives. Seven days after the weary Chosen woke up on the island, anyone left there will be set upon by the monster they have been inadvertently warned about. Those who have been here for a while will note that this creature, while slightly different, has some similarities to an old foe fought once before. It rises from the deep: gargantuan, a golden beast of tentacles with an enormous mouth, too many teeth within. It’s large enough that it could easily grab onto a person and lift them into the air, swallowing them whole.
This creature seems to be in control of the small octopus-like monsters reining terror upon any boat trying to escape the island. Distract the giant creature, and the smaller ones seem to go still for a little while, as if they’re in a trance–or maybe awaiting orders that have not yet come. The creature can be distracted by being made to fight, or chase…and of course, it will be distracted while eating, as well. But be warned: those chosen by RNG will be of particular interest to the creature, and the smaller monsters will do everything they can to stop those characters in particular from leaving. Perhaps it bonded with them over their seven days on the island. Perhaps it feels that it knows them better.
The smaller monsters can be thrown off in other ways besides distracting the big one, of course. They can be fought and injured, slinking away into the water, or even killed. For those not inclined to fight, they’ll follow sudden movements or sounds, such as something being thrown.
Anyone left on the island after the very last boat leaves will not make it back. They will become part of the creature’s next meal, and it will be an agonizing death. So. Now is the time.
Get out while you can.
vi. A RECKONING OF WILLS
As the Chosen head for shore, the giant monster sinks beneath the waves. Maybe enough people missed the boat that it’s gotten a good meal. Maybe it just decides that they weren’t worth it. Either way, the monster disappears, slinking back into the deep of the ocean, and the smaller creatures pull away once Rumpitur is in sight.
It’s a quiet moment, now, a good opportunity to tend to wounds and injuries. To mourn any who were not so lucky to leave.
The next question comes into clarity as soon as the Rumpiturians start appearing from their homes: what should you do with these kidnappers, who were so ready to feed you to the beasts?
WILDCARD
Just because there’s not a prompt for it doesn’t mean that your character’s actions aren’t acceptable. If you wish to do anything that hasn’t been directly addressed by the prompts, leave a message for the mod team to say what your character would do. If you choose to go down this path, note it as a comment on the OOC poll when it goes up, and leave a link to your threads so that we can take all actions into consideration for the next State of the Game.
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Trailing off, he slumps forward a bit, his eyes on his hands. It's all gotten so messy. For once, he has no idea what more to say.]
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[He leans forward, and then takes a chance in swinging an arm up and sideways, draping it over Yu's broader shoulders. He doesn't speak, just stays there, and continues to work at whatever he'd claimed from Yu at the start, awkward and one-handed now.]
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...
Someone dying in order to keep you safe counts as a fuss, in this case, apparently.
He looks at the work Akira has taken over from him -- untangling and re-rolling long strips of fabric bandages, clearly busywork, something small and inconsequential. He takes one of them out of the box, fiddling with the edges as he starts to roll it up.]
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[He blinks at it and then turns to Yu.] Well, that was unfortunate. I'll get it later. [It's maybe a weird metaphor? That things get out of control sometimes, but it's okay to wait to clean them up.]
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It...it's the sort of thing he might do, too, after all.]
Mhm. [He exhales, his eyes following the line of gauze to the floor.] There's no rush.
[On purpose or not, he gets the picture.]
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[Wordlessly, he starts to roll up another bundle of gauze and smiles, nodding.] Take your time, [His English sucks, frankly, but at least this one he gets, more or less.]
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Nice job, [said in better English, as he fiddles with one of the bandages. But Akira is right, whether his English sucks or not. Maybe he just needs some time.]