MOD PLOT ↠ SECRET STEEP'D ROOTS

[faderifting]

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.

Comments

[sulahnan]

No kidding. Athessa mutters something sarcastic to herself and starts to walk towards the edge of the clearing.

The itching is more like burning now, and about halfway to a patch of something that isn't moss her feet stop doing what she wants. She stumbles, catching herself with both hands planted about a half-inch into the earth before her. With much scrambling, she does reach that safe patch of ground and lets herself fwump down on her rear, wiping her hands on her trousers because they've already started to itch, too.

"Well, I can't move my feet, and now they hurt."

[extortionate]

I am touching it,

Lazar opens his mouth, shuts it again. Shifts in his boots (does feel a bit spongy) when Athessa goes sprawling. With a grunt, he snaps the branch he's been hacking away.

"How's your hands?"

Now that she's touched it. He almost tosses the branch — catches himself, she's little. It's heavy. Offers it down instead. Long enough to pull up on. He glances back to Richard, brow skating in question. If you'd asked Lazar to pick one of them to know the wild, he would've picked the elf. If you asked him to pick one with common sense, well, reckon it's the skinny fuck.

A hole gnaws slowly across the toe of his boot. One filthy sock pokes free as the belly of an animal; unnoticed and improbably white.

[nonvenomous]

The hood of Richard’s brow levels hard after Athessa’s fall, skepticism ironed over into suspicion. He sweeps over the clearing again -- still no insects, or thorns, or stinging hairs -- and moves to follow her retreat, only to stumble mid-stride with the loose flap of one of his soles catches in the moss. A glance down at it tells him all he needs to know: the leather is disintegrating.

“It’s corrosive,” he says aloud, for his own benefit. And to a lesser degree, Lazar’s.

Of course it is.

Dick moves with the urgency of a cat who’s just realized he’s standing in water, now -- swift, resentful strides, one boot hiked up so he can thumb through the lacing and kick it off as he joins Athessa on safe ground. Bits of rotted leather scatter into the leaf litter.

“Is it spreading? Keep your hands away from your face.”

He shucks the second boot.

[sulahnan]

She's already decided against taking the offered branch, in case the corrosion spreads--which does seem to happen, if to a far lesser degree than direct contact. The fabric of her pants where she wiped her hands before even thinking about it spreading is looking a bit thin. But she takes Richard's advice rather literally and holds her arms out in front of her.

"It's not spreading anywhere that hasn't had contact," she says, checking herself over without using her hands. It's an impressive display of flexibility, if nothing else. "My palms itch but it isn't getting any worse. And my feet--well." Seated as she is, it's plain to see the rash and damaged, cracked skin on the soles of her feet. Ouch. Athessa makes a face of mild annoyance, then looks to Lazar.

"Help a girl out, will ya, and pour some water on my hands."