December Intro: Pressure Building

[lifeaftr_mods]

INTRO LOG: DECEMBER

Who: New arrivals, and you!
What: New souls arrive to the archipelago of LifeAftr
When: December 4th and onward
Where: All over Ensō
Warnings: Mark as needed!

It begins on a mild autumn day, one where the breeze is gentle and the sky a deep, cloudless blue. Ensō is quiet as the adventurers that call it (if only temporarily) home begin to awaken and go about their daily business- for those who have been here long enough, this may consist of searching for those new arrivals, undoubtedly lost and likely confused. It is a normal day on Ensō. Then the water starts to rise.

Northern Beachfront: Let Me Get Off the Ground
For newcomers waking on the shoreline and those who have come to greet them, the rapid swelling of the ocean's surface will be immediately noticeable. Just a few, short miles from the shore, the water continues bulging upwards to terrifying heights, obscuring the sun and throwing warped shadows over the majority of Ensō's northern landscape. It towers there, wobbling, inexplicably retaining its shape even as it ripples, flowing, and sends great streams of saltwater streaming over the ocean's surface. Though the sun is barely capable of piercing the immense mass, those with a keen eye will see...something moving within, coiled far above sea level. Some dark mass, too distorted by the water and the lack of light to solidify into any easily recognizable shape, nonetheless makes its presence felt regardless. All nearby will find themselves stricken with a growing sense of being watched by a gaze that pierces flesh and bone…one that is none too appreciative of what it sees.

Retaliation to this apparent threat is both vicious and immediate. Bursting from the trees and whipping through the air within a tornado of motion, thousands, then tens of thousands of ink-stained pages whip out from Ensō's jungle and across open water like a flock of ferocious birds, striking at the liquid mountain with unceasing fervor.

Now may not be the best time to gawk, adventurers. With this attack, the raised water will begin to collapse - and the giant waves resulting from the sudden upset will bear no mercy for anyone swept off their feet in the churning swells.

Storyteller's Temple and the Rest of Ensō: I See Your Corruption
Those seeking shelter and answers will find them limited in supply, if not entirely absent. For, you see, the mana pools on Ensō have ceased functioning, leaving characters stranded wherever they may be at the time the assault begins.

No safety can be found within the temple walls this day, with more and more black pages erupting from every door and window. Attempts to approach and even push through won't be harmful, or at least not intentionally - rather, the pages will force back anyone who attempts to come between them and their current objective. Those who may not get the message the first time may just find themselves flying quite a ways away.

The above will quickly become the least of anyone’s worries. Those who remember the rebirth of the sun back in January will not doubt recall the creatures of the night faced during those darkest hours. As the waters around Ensō continue to churn in response to the offshore assault, large waves act as ferries for those precise beasts, clambering onto the shore in droves. Though the sun is obscured in many spaces, these shadowy creatures will always make for the treelines during daylight hours, seemingly sluggish at best under natural lighting.

Unfortunately, the Storyteller will be occupied for quite some time - and once night falls, those deadly beings will be on the hunt.

For the duration of the assault, the islets will remain relatively safe during daylight hours, so long as your character is capable of accessing a boat to travel there. Once night falls, however, they will be as dangerous as the mainland.

Both the shadowy creatures and the risen water will retreat on the morning of December 10th, leaving Ensō silent once more. The hovering pages, however, will continue circling the coastline for some time like great papery seabirds.

The doors to the Storyteller’s temple shall remain closed.

---

All new arrivals will awake with knapsacks, their names stitched to the front. The contents of said knapsacks can all be found in your acceptance notices!

As a final note to those who participated in the Test Drive Meme, bear in mind that those threads, if all parties involved would like, can be game canon in the form of dream-like memories involving a place very much like this one, though the layout is considerably different.

---

Feeling a tad adrift? Make sure to check the Locations Page, which has details regarding the starting areas and a handy map for those who feel better with a bird's eye view!

---

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[thermalwind]

[He hefts his glass-like knife in his other hand. Keith whips his hand up and throws it. The light reflects from the clear blade before it sinks into its target.

Allura has a clear shot at the monster.]

If you hear something that sounds like a kid crying stick close to me. One type of them likes to mess with your head.

[diplomacycheck]

[The whip wraps around the creature's abdomen and she pulls, hard. When met with resistance, she pulls harder until it is ripped from its perch and slamming into the ground before them. Keith now has an opening to end it. Or, she can punch it. Either or.

Likely the former, considering that gets her attention. A crying child...?]

Thank you for the warning. I will. [...It is... going to be hard to ignore if she does. He may need to grab her by the back of her armor if she starts to wander.]

[thermalwind]

Actually, a lot of them mess with your head. I've got your back if they try it. [He moves as she yanks, Bayard in one hand and Marmora sword in the other. As the bayard snaps back into inert form, he flips his weapons.

The monster crashes to the ground and he wraps his hand around the knife hilt. His sword cuts right to left as he rips the knife the opposite direction, twisting it on the way out. He flicks both blades to fling gore from them.]

This way.

[He resheathes his knife and clips the bayard to his waist. He needs a weapon that's going to stay. Keith unstraps Tideripper his sea-based sickle, made of materials from the sea. He flicks it once and satisfied with it, moves forward.]

[diplomacycheck]

And I yours. [The whip uncoils as she flicks her grip slightly. They are a team. She'll always have his six.

And there goes Keith, the walking armory. She follows at the same amount of paces behind as before, keeping an eye out as her bayard reverts to its inert state. She doesn't see or hear anything beyond their footsteps and countless others running from the shoreline.]

[thermalwind]

[He gives her a slight smile that lights up his eyes. It's so nice to see her after months and months without her around. Keith takes quieter steps, moving like a ghost between the trees.

He moves like any other predator on the prowl. He's been here so long that tapping into his other senses is like breathing.] Can't hear anything else yet. You?

[Her hearing has to be better than his.]

[diplomacycheck]

[She returns it with a smile of her own. She listens closely for any sign of more of those creatures, but she hears nothing. Only the sounds of others fleeing from the shoreline as they are.]

Nothing at the moment. It would seem have a moment's respite, save for the water.

[That, of course, does not mean she won't keep an ear out.]

[thermalwind]

[He breathes in and frowns. The scents in the air are the usual ones with some added arid stretch with an underlying odor of rotting flesh. He takes another conscious breath in as he leads her on down the well traveled path. He would go through the woods themselves but people will travel the paths.

The sickle glistens with sea water. The body of the blade is a claw of some creature, bits of coral, stone, and sea life make up the rest. He has long since gotten used to the slickness that makes it slick from his targets if he fails to swing right.]

They’re here. Smells like further in. We’ll probably see them before long. Last time it was pitch black. They could go where ever they wanted.

[This time they couldn’t. But they had to be directed by some source.]

[diplomacycheck]

[She can feel her ears wiggle under her helmet as she picks up something while Keith speaks. Those footsteps are... different than the panicked ones around and behind them. The voice that accompanies almost sounds.... jovial. Kind.]

Wait. Do you hear that? [...That certainly is a chill that goes down her back.]

[thermalwind]

[Keith pauses and shuts his eyes.] Yeah. I hear it.

[The voice sounds alright. But he's been burned far too many times in that long siege of cold and darkness. He slows and picks his way towards a small clearing. The scent of wood smoke drifts to him.

And something else.]

...smell that?

[diplomacycheck]

Hm? [She pauses, sniffing at the air for a tick. At first she only smells the fire, but beyond it...

If she didn't have her helmet on, she more than likely would have held her nose.]

I smell it.

[It wasn't much different than what they had just killed, and yet... eugh. Were there no concepts of showers in this place?]

[thermalwind]

Be on guard, I'll get us some back up. [He slows down further until he's only barely ahead of Allura. Keith whistles in two sharp notes and steps out into the clearing.

The wide circle of open space is still mostly in shadow. A campfire burns near the eastern edge of the trees. What looks like a kindly old man pokes at some cooking fish. The odor of rot is stronger than ever.

Keith scans the ahead, frowning. His experiences with that odor and night creatures are clear. There is danger around. Yet his mind is trying to avoid the idea.]

See anything?

[diplomacycheck]

[Allura steps out into the clearing after him, shoulders stiffening. Even to her less acute sense of smell, the scent of rot is prevalent in the area. Yet the only thing off about the clearing is-

The old man. Poking at a campfire set inside the shadowed area of the clearing. Weren't they supposed to...?]

Keith, something isn't right about that man over there. Shouldn't we all be running from the wave to higher ground?

[Yet her mind is also trying to avoid the idea; instead trying to assert that she's just paranoid after having trusted Lotor and that maybe she's trying to see danger where there is none. Allura's grip on her bayard tightens. No. Her nose wouldn't lie like this.]

[thermalwind]

[His mind slides away from the danger and the sickly sweet scent of rot. He starts to relax and walk towards the campfire. A blazing shape drops from above and flies at the old man. The crackle of flames cuts through the haze and Keith surges forward.

The illusion tears as the man puts his focus on the bird of fire. He slashes with the sickle in a diagonal to the right, opening the creature's chest up.

The fire the man was sitting at only ashes. Keith whistles again and the bird spirals upwards Keith spins away to the right, giving Allura a clear shot.]

[diplomacycheck]

...Keith? [Allura reaches out, but then lowers her hand and moves to follow. When nothing seems to happen, she starts to believe what her mind is trying to say over her gut. Her guard begins to drop. Maybe she's just overthinking it. Maybe this person just doesn't know what's ha-

And then a bird of fire falls down from the sky and it shatters. Is... that Ember? She recalls Keith speaking of his feathery friend before.

She'd think he's breathtaking were it not for the scent of burning rot. It snaps her back into action and her bayard activates again. Allura lifts her arm, and swings downward and to the left. The end snags where Keith's cut and she pulls back, ripping through the creature.]

[thermalwind]

[Mr Skittles is split in half from a diagonal. Ember and Keith circle in different directions, ready to leap in to take the focus off of Allura. But they don't need to. The creature falls to the ground and doesn't get up.

Keith sneezes and thrusts his arm up as Ember sweeps towards him, flaming going out. As his bird settles on his arm, he turns to Allura.]

Let's get to Denny's beyond here. Those things...are why Jormun have three man scout teams. I'll tell you about them on the way.

[He wipes his sickle and heads towards the far side of the clearing.]

Ember is a fire bird, a phoenix. His mother is the sun itself.

[diplomacycheck]

[Allura glares at the fallen corpse before she straightens and deactivates her bayard again. One breath in, count from ten to one, and she nods with a faint smile to the phoenix on Keith's arm.]

You mentioned him on Mu. [What a brave bird. There's a quiet gratitude to both of them in her gaze as she follows him.

She would have fallen for it if she was alone.]

May I? [She asks, before reaching out. Just a little scritch under the beak in thanks; that's all.] It is nice to meet you, Ember. My name is Allura.

[thermalwind]

Of course. [He had mentioned it. He remembers that now. Ember leans into the scritch with a soft sound of approval. The phoenix shuts his eyes in pleasure. Keith smiles a bit.]

What happens on Mu is...murky when I wake. Do you remember what all I talked about? [He touches his right arm where the scars are hidden.] Aside from Umui.

[Ember hops lightly from his arm to Allura's and Keith gestures for her to follow him out.] There's one creature we'll have to watch out for tonight. We called them claw or hook. Their sole objective is to reach out and snuff out any light they find.

[diplomacycheck]

Alright. What do they look like? [Allura smiles a little more that actually reaches her eyes at the almost-cooing sound and the bird's hopping to her arm. Someone has a soft spot. At least, until she notices where he touches. She remembers the scar pattern on his arm.]

I'll admit, some of it is a blur. I feel like I met a few more people than I recall... [She frowns thoughtfully, giving Ember another scratch beneath the beak as she tries to recall everything.] Aside from this reality existing outside our own's concept of space-time, about the Storyteller and how this place messes with our heads...

[It comes back to her. The words the shade that took her father's voice and appearance had said. She swallows it back, miraculously keeping her arm steady for the young phoenix.]

Much of what we discussed was on home, and Kosmo's latching onto his name. I asked if there was anything you'd rather I not mention to the others if I awoke here, and then... I was on the beach.