faderift | MOD PLOT ↠ SECRET STEEP'D ROOTS

WHO: Open
WHAT: Trapped! Trapped in a jungle!
WHEN: Bloomingtide 9:46
WHERE: Unknown
NOTES: OOC post! The three starters in the comments can have multiple threads, and feel free to ask us on the OOC post if you have any "what will happen if I x" questions.

When the eluvian shatters, there's a stutter in the flow of the fight. The eight Venatori nearly all freeze in place for a moment when the glass cracks, watching their way out and their plan crumble, and afterwards they never quite manage to get their rhythm back. But they don't quit, either. In the end, they all go down fighting.

Riftwatch takes no casualties, and the four members of Riftwatch who were taken captive are all alive, accounted for, and mostly unharmed.

That's the end of the good news.

The massive, shattered eluvian was set within a ruin carved and built out of a steep embankment, now almost entirely reclaimed by the jungle. All that's left are the remains of walls—some full height, others crumbling where vines have pushed between the stones or spreading tree roots have disrupted the ground. But with daylight fading and several injuries that need attending to before anyone can move, the surviving walls and thick plant growth form the best shelter anyone can hope to find before nightfall.

When the sun rises and better stock can be taken of their position, the jungle in which everyone finds themselves is still not immediately recognizable. It's hot compared to Kirkwall at this time of year, with temperatures hovering around 75-80F and kept relatively consistent between day and night by the high humidity and non-existent breeze. It rains with some frequency—light showers that are little more than mist by the time they reach ground-level or torrential downpours that start with little warning and drop several inches of rain in an hour before disappearing as abruptly as they'd arrived.

Most of the ruins extending up or out from the embankment are little more than chunks of moss-covered stone buried in the undergrowth. Searching around them will find them a stream running through the remains of a carved stone channel, fast enough to be safe to drink, and they can follow that a short ways out of the ruins to where it joins a much larger river. They won't see any traffic along it except for a variety of river creatures that would be happy to eat them. Judging by the position of the sun and moons, the river leads south.

There is one half-sunken portion of the ruin complex that's more intact, but after exploring it confirms there is no back-up eluvian on offer, there's little choice but to set out into the dense growth of the jungle. Huge trees create a canopy far overhead, and the floor is soft and springy with dead matter. Giant ferns, vines of every variety, and flowers of every conceivable color crowd them at every turn, making travel slow and damp. Overhead, and all around, are the sounds of other creatures moving through the same space. Birdsong, monkey screeches, the constant buzz and chitter of insects. The fauna in the jungle is a mix of the usual sorts of beasts one would expect in such a climate: parrots, monkeys, snakes, absurdly large insects, the rare big cat, whatever other weird animals walk around a jungle.

The walk south along the river will be a long and difficult slog through dense jungle with no real respite from the environment along the way—and no real certainty about their destination. They'll have to make a new camp each night as best they can and push on the next morning, hiking through seemingly-endless forest. At first, they will have the benefit of a path, a trail south alongside the river that appears to have been cut less than a month ago. It will lead to a second set of ruins where signs of Venatori presence will be obvious. They will make camp here for a couple days while they explore more thoroughly for clues about where they are and what the Venatori were up to.

Beyond that point it will be necessary to cut their own trail, an exhausting process that means even slower going and tired arms for everyone who takes a shift at the front of the line. The only break will come when the jungle abruptly gives way to a deep gorge, the river taking a hard west-ward turn and dropping down a series of magnificent waterfalls to what looks like a very large lake at the bottom. They can either find a way down the falls and hike west around the lake, or cross the river via a narrow rock bridge over the falls and continue south back into the jungle. They'll stop here and make camp among the rocks for another couple days to try to identify the lake or the falls before they go any further and risk walking miles in the wrong direction.

The journey will take a few weeks in total, with plenty of time and opportunity for a few people scouting ahead or foraging for food to find trouble (or fun) on their own. But the entire group will also encounter a few hazards together, including, in chronological order:

Shortly after leaving the elven ruins where they came through the eluvian, a flash flood will catch the camp one evening, despite its position on the best available high ground, sweeping away some supplies and ruining others. People outside of the camp, for whatever reason, will lack the high ground and might experience a more dangerous rush of water, and everyone will have to go to sleep damp and hungry.
A day after the group leaves the dwarven ruins, a swarm of dragonlings and several drakes will emerge from a mountain cave when the group passes too close, breathing fire and intent on chasing them away. Their high dragon won't appear for the fight, but several days later she will fly overhead, barely visible through the canopy but obviously very, very large.
A few days later, they'll come upon a hot spring that appears crystal-clear and fine for drinking and bathing, but will result in people developing minor, mostly auditory hallucinatory effects an hour or two after their exposure to it. The plants growing nearby will show to have an even stronger effect, if anyone is foolish enough to eat them to find out.
In a few areas, the river will cut gorges through the mountainous terrain, and following it will require either walking along narrow traversable paths on the cliffsides or holding supplies overhead and fording through the water. Watch out for dickfish.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"....yes," comes the muted agreement of an unfortunate bystander who knows better than to say otherwise.

She turns to look at the unfortunate bystander with an uncomfortably predatory gaze before a sweet smile grows, beautiful in it's guilessness.

"Goodness, dear, don't look at me so," she says, laughing, "There's quite enough fun to be had without turning against our own!"

Raising his hands in mock defense, Barrow grins in a manner that's a little too nervous to be genuine.

"Who said anything about turning against our own?" he wheedles, "just, ah, admiring the dragon. As you were. It would seem." Maybe???

The gesture makes sense, the words make sense. She is distracted by the way his hands spread and how his stomach is a soft, exposed thing despite his clothing.

"Was I?" she asks, thinking wet red thoughts that make her voice drift towards dreamy. She tips her head in a way that's uncomfortably reptilian and seems to come back to herself, her smile curling more with playful mischief, "I suppose I was, but that's understandable. Isn't it a pity we won't be hunting her today."

Barrow is, in part, so laid-back because it's very difficult to menace him, especially when one is considerably smaller and lighter than himself-- but something about Poesia's glance goes straight to his nerves, and he resolves not to get too careless about her.

"What a pity," he concedes (even if he doesn't agree), "well, we've plenty to keep us busy."

"That's certainly true!" She shakes her hair back and laughs, a sweet bell sound. The predatory air about her is almost entierly gone now as she steps towards him to rejoin the group. "This survival business is very tiring, isn't it? I've found it has none of the romance one finds in novels."

"Romance needs to be made, in my experience," he replies with a more jovial air, turning to walk back with her, "with the right people and mindset. It's the difference between adventure and work. But I'm sure you can manage it."

"You flatter me, bunny!" she says, touching his arm lightly and briefly. She tips her head to smile up at him, "I do suppose I could make it myself, but it is so much easier to make romance with assistance."

Yes, this is happening.

Oh shit, this is happening. Though generally much smoother than this, Barrow isn't as used to being a target for younger women.
At least not unattached ones, but he has some scruples.

"You've got a point," he says with a half-smile, caught off-guard but not hating it. It has been a while, hasn't it.

Neither put off nor encouraged, Poesia has no issue stepping closer to slide her arm through his as though they were a lady and gentleman at court.

"Thank you," she says, mischief and mirth in her smile, "But I would prefer to see yours."

He opens his mouth and closes it again, struck dumb by her bluntness.

It's not that he's embarrassed-- worse jokes have been made, often by himself-- but wow, what a place and what a time.

With a crooked smile, he pats her hand and mutters "Maker's breath," in appreciation.

That prompts a laugh from her, sweet and bell like.

"I can't have scandalized you, surely!"

"Call it endearment to your lack of subtlety," he decides, "no offense intended, of course."

"I can't imagine why I would be," she says, pressing against him a little more, "Either subtle or offended. It's much more enjoyable to be straight forward in these matters, don't you think?"

"Can be," he muses, glancing around, "any preferences I should know about?"

"I should like it very much if you kiss me to begin with," she says, "We're rather far from society to be very creative."

"That I can manage indeed, my lady."

He stops, gently cupping her jaw in his hand to tilt it upward as he bends down to meet her mouth with his. The kiss is romantic, chaste even, considering the circumstances, but he aims to please.

MOD PLOT ↠ SECRET STEEP'D ROOTS

iib

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rolls this old boy 2 u

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