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Turnus, Everiine, and Adasser Make a Second Vision Quest for Sister Wolverine
Everiine
Wise Old Swordsbird / BrontaurIndianapolis, IN, USA
Over a RL year ago (17 months ago!) Turnus and Everiine did their first Vision Quest for Sister Wolverine. 6 RL months ago, Everiine helped with Adasser's Vision Quest for Sister Wolverine. As all three were now Wolverine's Kits and able to go on a second Vision Quest, and since there are no Guides to help them, they decided to take their chances together, attempting to earn the honour to be called Wolverine's Masks. This log is that attempt.
First, thank you to the Admin who have been waiting patiently for this! It seemed there was never a time over the past 6 months where Turnus and I had enough free time at the same time to make this happen. We are very, very glad that you didn't give up on us! Further, thank you for outdoing yourselves--I thought the Boar and the Leopard episodes were going to be hard to beat, but you found a way to make this my favorite vision quest yet! The little details were amazing, such as Adasser's unicorn swords, changing the room to fit the scenery of the vision, and the surprise Split the Party routine.
As usual, this entire RP was made up on the spot, and we had no communication with each other about what we expected or planned to do--not even the scenery or the creature we would face. We simply went for it and let it play out! I hope you get as much enjoyment reading it as we did experiencing it.
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Ceremoniously, @Turnus dabs some red tint upon his face, creating the pattern of stripes.
Ceremoniously, Turnus dabs some green tint upon his face, creating the pattern of an image of the greenman.
Everiine stacks wood logs in the center of the circles, preparing them to be lit.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit lingers at the edge of the smaller concentric circle, idly waiting for further instruction.
Looking to his two companions, you say, "We have each journeyed here before. We know the danger that awaits us. If any of us wish to back out, now is the time to speak."
Turnus grunts once and shakes his head.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit fastens his gaze to the two of you, his pale blue eyes blinking only once. He shakes his head, wisps of blond hair shifting.
Everiine nods to his companions and begins to unfasten his equipment. "As before, we can take nothing with us, for this is a test of our own merit." With a rattle and clank, he removes pieces of his plate, stacking them neatly in a pile outside the circles.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit looks away from the trill and the loboshigaru as he peels off his own armaments. Witha snap of a clasp, he unfastens his cloak, pulls away his leathers, and wraps them together in a large mass of fabric and hide. Unclothed, he steps outside the circles and places his pile near him, thrusting his rapiers on either side.
Turnus unfastens his scavenged together armour and shrugs it off, setting it aside along with the rest of his effects.
Grasses beside Moon River.
Thick dreamy cotton clouds are spread across the firmament. This small area of grass leads from the Alabaster Road down to the banks of the Moon River. The road to the south is a line of white stone, threading beneath the tall trees that crowd around it. Moon River to the northwest, however, is a wide expanse of water, a massive river that cuts a path through the trees and forces them apart. Gravel lines the banks as they slope down to meet the river's edge. Two concentric circles of stones are set out in the grasses here. A hornbeam sapling clings tenaciously to the ground here. Reaching up as high as the eye can see looms the awesome presence of a living totem. Adasser, Wolverine's Kit strolls here, alert and vigilant. Hackles risen, a fierce timberwolf prowls about here. Adasser's uniform has been wrapped up into his pelt cloak and rolled into a ball. Without its owner, Adasser's delicate unicorn rapier lies thrust into the ground. A good foot away from its twin, Adasser's other delicate unicorn rapier lies thrust into the ground. Great Chieftain Turnus Windwhisper stands at the ready, his face adorned with colourful warpaint.
You see exits leading south and northwest.
Everiine kneels down next to the pile of wood and strikes his tinderbox. The sparks catch the wood, the flames spreading until a raging campfire sits before you, casting both light and warmth.
Watching as Everiine lights the campfire, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit places himself within the innermost circle. He sits, folding his legs underneath him in the usual meditative position. His chest rises and falls as he breathes in deeply.
Walking to his satchel, Everiine retrieves a packet of spices and herbs and three small, wooden bowls. Dipping the bowls in the waters of the Moon River, he brings the filled containers back to the fire and nestles them among the glowing logs of the fire. Quickly, before the bowls dry and can catch fire, he mixes in the herbs, waiting for the water to heat.
As the bowls are heated, plumes of steam waft away from the now-herbal water. Bubbles form too, tiny ones, indicating heat. They will probably get far too hot for use or consumption before long.
Once the tea has had a chance to steep, Everiine gingerly removes the bowls from the fire. Blackened from the flames, the bowls steam with the heady aroma. The old bird passes one bowl to each of his companions, reserving one for himself.
Turnus takes his own spot crouching down beside the campfire, as if in a hunter's pose ready to spring into action moreso than a meditation. Digging one hand into the dirt to balance himself as with the other he spreads his still fresh facepaint.
Waiting for the bowl to cool enough that it can be handled, you say, "When we enter, I do not know what we will find. More than any other, the realm of Sister Wolverine is foreign to me. We may very well be hunted again. In any case, we must find one of Her servants, an animal known for being a deadly fighter."
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit nods simply.
The elfen stares at the bowl of heated water, and instinctively, he gives it a sniff. Steam rolls across Adasser, Wolverine's Kit's face like fog, and he waits for the brew to cool.
Everiine handles his bowl carefully and raises it up. "May the Warrior Spirits show us mercy and favour, brothers," he says, and with that, he tips the bowl back, drinking the hot tea.
Turnus lifts his own bowl up with his free hand, letting it rest before his face as he deeply inhales the heady aroma, growling out, "Spirits guide us on our journey," before drinking in one long gulp.
Using the tips of his fingers to hold the bowl, and raising it up the same, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit repeats something similar: "May we return to ourselves whole and hearty." With that, he takes a large swallow of tea.
Everiine sets his bowl in the grass in front of him and puts his hands on his knees. With his eyes closed, he inhales and exhales deeply the gentle breeze around him, the smell of the campfire, and listens to the sounds of the surrounding wood. Soon, the sounds begin to recede, falling away into a brief silence as the vision begins to take shape.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit sets his bowl aside, placing his hands upon his knees. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes too, allowing the forest fall away.
Turnus allows his eyes to close letting his breath deepen, still remaining in his crouched position.
In a flash, the sun reappars blazing in the night sky above. A harsh, brutal wind whips through the circles that eradicates the plant life and obliterates the trees into sawdust. In their place, great waves and dunes of sand rise like lumps in badly mixed dough. The sand blows through Everiine's wings and buries the campfire's remains.
Turnus grunts as he opens his eyes squinting them heavily, bringing his free hand up to shield his eyes as he peers across the sand.
Speaking in a low growl, Great Chieftain Turnus Windwhisper says, "Everiine, Adasser? Did ya both make it here too?"
The bright sun nearly blinds Everiine when he opens his eyes. "Why can She never bring us anywhere nice?" he asks, sweat already beading and running down his face.
Tendrils of blond hair streaming out like tongues of light, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit is dusted over by a scouring wind. "Ehhhhh..." he tries to speak, sand sweeping into his mouth. The elfen jumps up, suddenly, quickly, folding his hands over his face as to shield it. Though slightly muffled, Adasser responds to the question: "I'm here, but by the Nine, a desert?" The guard sputters, doing his best to remove any sand from his lips and tongue.
Turnus Windwhisper shouts out to you, his words almost drowned out in the sandstorm, "I hear complaining, so at least I know ya made it. Wouldn't be much of a test to be somewhere pleasant."
His feathers whip about in a frenzy, driven by the unrelenting wind. Everiine does his best to fold them, which has the added benefit of providing a shelter for his body against the unforgiving sun. Quickly, he discovers the heat of the sand on the soles of his feet and leaps into the air, holding himself aloft with powerful flaps of his silver wings. "We need to find shade! We are completely at the mercy of the elements!" he shouts, flapping his wings hard and rising into the air to be a beacon for his fellow Seekers to find.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit tries to follow the rising trill, his blue eyes squinting against the brightness of the sky and the paleness of the dunes. His head turns from side to side, searching for some respite.
Turnus keeps one hand up to shield his eyes, as he lopes ahead, calling out, "See anything at all up there? Both of you remember to keep talking so we can hear ya, don't want to have to come back and drag your arse outta this desert."
Running ahead to catch up to the running loboshigaru, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit exclaims, "Uhhh, waiit for me!"
Everiine focuses on the ground and, imitating the demeanour of a hawk, searches for the sources of each voice. The loboshigaru he spots first, the dull grizzled grey standing out against the sandy dunes as he lopes along; and there, following behind, the bright blond head of the elfen. In the distance, however, he spots a line of figures moving along the ridge. He folds his wings and drops like a stone toward the two figures beneath him, unfurling the fins and slowing his descent until he lands gingerly on the hot sand. "I cannot see much--an endless sea. But there are a few rock formations not far from here on a path running perpendicular to the sun's rays. I did not see any water, but at least they can provide some shade." Leaping back into the air, but staying low, he adds, "And we are not alone. Be careful."
Turnus grunts over his shoulder as he pauses to let the others catch up, "Of course we're not. I expect we're being watched since we got here."
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit stops suddenly as the trill dives down before him and the loboshigaru, who is only a couple paces ahead. Sweat drips down his face and into his eyes; he pants heavily, his chest contracting with every labored attempt at breathing. "Of... course... we... are..." he manages to mutter.
In the distance, a company of dark figures make their way toward you. At the speed they are going, you can reason that they will be on you soon.
Everiine leads the way, gliding when he can, and flapping his wings to keep aloft when necessary, guiding the three lost travellers through the dunes. Ever keeping himself as close to the ground as he can without crashing into it, he struggles to maintain his flight, very nearly careening into the dunes as the wind buffets him about.
Turnus glares at the approaching figures, calculating his next move while grumbling to himself, "Damn bird's gonna get himself killed in that wind." then louder yells into the wind, "They're coming to meet us, we can't make it to the shelter first, so GET READY."
Turnus slows down again as he crouches low, feeling one hand through the sand for a rock or something to use as a weapon.
With each step sinking into the sand, the elfen takes great strides as he pushes forward with the group. At the Great Chieftain's shout, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit stops, toppling over into the sand as he sinks into a collapsing dune. Sand is everywhere: stuck to his skin, combed through his hair, but the elfen draws himself to stand. Like the loboshigaru, he reaches something, anything, only gathering fistfuls of sand.
The rock formation is right there--so close, Everiine could make a flight for it and make it. Frustrated at having been thwarted so close to their goal, the trill drops again, landing rather ungracefully in the sand and nearly on his side, before he pulls himself up steady. Crouching low, wincing as the sand burns his feet, he readies himself to spring again, as if to launch an attack from the skies.
Turnus grunts to the rest of the guard as they gather around him, "Once they get here, just keep them busy and circle around them. We want the storm to our back and in their eyes."
Sand held tightly in the palms of his hands, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit shouts, "Aye aye, Great Chieftain!" The elfen raises his fists to his face, his legs sinking into a defensive posture.
As the figures crest the dune in front of them, Everiine leaps to the side with a great wing-aided jump, bounding along the dune to get to the party's flank.
Turnus holds up a hand to block the wind as he calls out to the figures, whose forms seem less and less human the closer they get, "Hold, we've not come for a fight. But we ain't afraid of one if we have to."
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit stays his ground, watching, waiting as Turnus calls out to the figures. Indeed, they are becoming less and less human, become something more than that - something more monstrous and feral. There are many of them: seven that you can count, armed with spears and knives. One of them brings two fingers to its lips and whistles, the sound barely audible as the sandstorm rages around you. At the sound, they raise their spears, hollering loudly. They plan to attack, regardless of the Chieftain's call otherwise. Adasser's face twists into a grimace, his knuckles growing white and bloodless.
A great rumbling ripples through the dunes. Even over the howling wind, it can be heard; pushing through the desert like a rush of force that sends knees knocking and stomachs churning. But as soon as it passes it is gone, leaving a terrible sense of unease in its wake.
As one, the monstrous creatures turn terribly, terribly still. Nothing in their bodies moves for a long moment save for the wind crashing against them - and then they scatter, splitting and dividing into the swirling sand like rats scrabbling into sewers.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit's body shudders as he falls to the ground, the rumble of the desert rippling through his body.
Turnus lets out a deep growl, glancing over at Adasser to check his composure and giving a barely perceivable nod towards their flank. Tilting his attention back and see them scatter, he lets out a frustrated grunt as he pounces forward, trying to grab at one of them as they scatter.
Everiine springs from the dune in a blaze of silver, intending to lance across the party and knock one of its members to the ground. But the sudden rumbling of the dunes knocks him off balance, and he slams into the sand in a feathered heap while the figures scatter. Pulling himself up and dusting himself off, noticing only a few scrapes here and there, he searches for the source of the disruption. "I think we are in trouble," he yells over the sandstorm.
Was that a tremor, or the wind? The sudden wash of fear makes it hard to tell; what once would have been cast aside as the touch of the environment now seems so much more terrible.
Turnus swears in frustration as he picks himself out of the sand after his dive to catch them, spitting out a mouthful of grit, "Think we better haul arse to that cover while we can."
The profile of the elfen's face is covered with sand as he pushes himself up, his eyes widen and afraid. As he struggles to stand, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit tries to speak, his voice drowned out by the wind. Another rumble pulses through the desert, forcing the guard to fall once again.
"Agreed!" Everiine declares and leaps back into the air, regaining his sense of direction. Spotting the nearby rock formation, he puts his fingers to his mouth lets loose a piercing, warbling whistle to get the attention of his companions. Pointing toward the horizon, he takes off, a gleaming silver dart across the dune.
Suddenly, a rush of sand coruscates into the air some distance away, stopping Everiine in his tracks. The trill barely has time to rear back as some humongous shadow rushes up out of the dune, sending one of the escaping beasts flying upwards. As it falls it disappears into the shadow, and there is an unmistakable crunch of bone and sinew.
Everiine veers wildly off-course and gapes in horror. "Go go go!" he screams to his brothers, trying desperately to track the shadow.
Turnus quickly pulls Adasser up to his feet, "Come on, this ain't a good place to let your fears get to ya. They'll know." nodding grimmly ahead, he grabs one of the spears dropped as they creatures fled and starts pressing ahead, pausing only long enough to make sure Adasser is still following.
The shadow hovers before you, and as the sand rushes past you catch a glimpse of a huge, gaping maw: literal hundreds of needle-sharp teeth spiral down its worm-like body, its huge trunk contorting and relaxing. Turning, it regards the three of you with a cock of its open mouth.
Pulled up by the loboshigaru, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit witnesses the risen beast, his own mouth open and gaping. He is stunned, terrified, unable to move as Turnus presses forward. The sand that was once in his hands seeps through his fingers.
Everiine rears up and swoops to the side again. "Not that way!" he yells down to the loboshigaru and elfen, changing direction and heading for the rocks by another route. Glancing behind him, the unmoving blond glint catches his eye. "Adasser!" he shouts, pulling his wings tightly to his body and entering a dive, aiming himself at his stricken companion. Flaring his wings at the last moment to control himself, he slams into the elfen, tackling him and swooping him out of the way.
Turnus holds up a hand to the others as a signal to slow as he readies his spear, cautiously circling around the giant beast away from its gaping maw. Calling out to it he shouts, "We've come on behalf of Sister Wolverine. We do not fear you!"
...and just in time. The sandworm rears up, rushing through the air in a giant loop, and comes crashing down upon its chosen prey. Propelled by Everiine's diving rescue, Adasser is thrown hastily to the side, and the sandworm misses its target. But its maw is huge, several metres in circumference...and it had more than one target.
Sand rushes out from either side of the sandworm's landing place as Turnus is consumed by its open maw in a fell swoop.
An endless desert.
There is but a light breeze blowing. Dusty winds drag through the dry landscape of this desert, scouring the skin with hot grains of sand. All around you is beige, brown desiccation: a never-ending sight of cresting and falling dunes that move like waves. Overhead, the sun seems permanently set at its apex, with only an outcropping of rocks nearby for cover. Adasser, Wolverine's Kit strolls here, alert and vigilant.
There are no obvious exits.
Though he is but a slender thing, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit's weight propels you into a dune, and the two of you slam into the sand. The elfen struggles out of your grip, fastening his attention to where the Great Chieftain once stood. "Great Chief!" he shouts, his voice breaking through the sandstorm.
An almighty roar resounds through the dunes as the giant worm rushes up out of the sand again, rearing back as if in agony. Through the storm, the faint glint of metal can be seen, piercing its side.
Everiine tumbles and rolls in the sand, landing in a crumpled heap of limbs and feathers. Disoriented, he gets to his feet and shakes his head, sand pouring from his head crest. Hearing the elfen's cry, he spins, searching for Turnus. "Brother!" he shouts, and in a rage, leaps into the air, diving toward the sandworm like a mad bird.
Though Adasser, Wolverine's Kit has no weapons, he too launches himself to aid his Chiefs, his voice shrill and hollering like those monstrous warriors from before.
A muffled cry sounds from within the worm as it writhes about the dunes in abject agony.
Everiine lands on the worm and claws for purchase, hanging on for his dear life. He looks for anything, any weak spot he can attack and use to his advantage.
Running toward the sandworm, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit dives into the sand - his arm stretched to gather a small knife that the hunting party had dropped before. Racing closer, he spots the shine of metal against the sandworm's side. "Here!" he commands to Everiine, launching his newly-acquired blade into the thick exterior of the beast.
Everiine reaches down and rips the knife from the creature's hide in the most painful we he can. Gripping it in both hands, he raises it high above his head, and with a howl, drives the blade deeply into the creature over and over again.
You push, and push, and - there! With a hideous tear of muscle and sinew the beast is cleft in twain. Turnus comes soaring out of the sandworm's bowels in a flurry of sand, holding a half-broken spear triumphantly aloft like a legendary warrior.
Everiine topples over as the worm crashes to the ground, rolling in the sand with the creature's blood running down his arm and the hunting knife still clutched in his hand.
Turnus lets out a loud roar with a mixture of fury, bloodlust, and triumph as he wheels around on the worm quickly appraising it.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit falls to his knees, a spray of blood splashed upon his bare chest, watching as the beast collapses from the onslaught of the three warriors. It seems dead, the gaping wound in its side far too serious of a blow to survive from; rivulets of blood and stretches of muscle fibres smear across the hole. Panting, the elfen shouts, "Feidhmigh Ar Son An Serenguard!"
Your senses tingle as movement sounds behind you: the malformed beasts, which before the sandworm had seemed so monstrous, have returned. Moving as one, they drop to their crooked knees in salute to your triumph.
Without bothering to clean off his arm or brush away the sand, Everiine Silvermoon lumbers over to Turnus and punches him in the arm. "Do that to me again, and I will tell flea jokes every day for a year," he yells in anger. But soon, the exterior facade cracks, and the old bird smiles. "You damned old dog," he says, pulling his brother into a tight embrace. Hearing the figures approach, he retrieves the hunting knife from the sand and holds it out, hilt-first, to the leader.
Roaring out again in rage, Turnus stabs the beast with his half spear again and again, disregarding if it is dead or not, he wants to make sure before finally panting, he stops and steps away from it, covered in gore, sand, and whoknowswhat from the worm.
The leading beast rises, nearly seven feet tall when fully stood. He inclines his matted fur head towards the trill, and accepts the knife with reverence, before turning to regard Turnus. Something glints in his beady black eyes - amusement, perhaps - but his muzzle twists in an approving grin.
Everiine Silvermoon puts his hand on Turnus's back. "Easy, easy..." he says, trying to calm him down.
Turnus finally turns his attention away from the worm, quickly glancing at the other two Serenguard. Noticing the figures from earlier he casts a withering glare of disapproval their way.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit directs his sights upon the returned, his chest still heaving.
Everiine regards the leading beast and bows, folding his silver wings to his back. "We came to learn about being a deadly fighter," he says, turning to appraise the fallen sandworm. "I think we learned more than we anticipated."
The leading beast's grin turns into a smirk. With a gruff movement of his wrist, he gestures to the others, who scuttle around the sandworm and begin to gather the corpse. You notice that they attend to the corpse almost reverently, as if honouring it as clearly as they would one of their own fallen.
Nodding in agreement, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit shifts his weight, rising to stand. His lips are chapped, and the elfen runs his tongue across to wet them. He stares with fascination as the beastly band attend to the sandworm, ripping part skin, scale, and sinew. To the Chieftains, he says in a hoarse voice, "Perhaps we should seek about getting back?"
Everiine runs his hand over his arms, feeling the red blisters burning into his skin. At once, he becomes aware of the cuts and scrapes over his body, the scalding sand burning his feet and the intense glare of the sun beating down on his head. "Aye, I think that would be wise," he says.
Turnus finally releases his deathgrip on the spear, as he blinks as if only now noticing the blinding sun again, "Yes, I think it is time." Then finally addressing the beasts-creatures, "Ya can tell Sister Wolverine about this when ya see her."
A snort escapes the leader's muzzle, as his form begins to fade. "She knows," he growls, the words barely recognisable as common. They echo around you as the sand blurs, colour beginning to seep back into the world.
Everiine lurches forward, losing his sense of balance and direction in the shift.
Grasses beside Moon river.
A gentle breeze whistles around you. This small area of grass leads from the Alabaster Road down to the banks of the Moon River. The road to the south is a line of white stone, threading beneath the tall trees that crowd around it. Moon River to the northwest, however, is a wide expanse of water, a massive river that cuts a path through the trees and forces them apart. Gravel lines the banks as they slope down to meet the river's edge. Two concentric circles of stones are set out in the grasses here. A hornbeam sapling clings tenaciously to the ground here. Reaching up as high as the eye can see looms the awesome presence of a living totem. Hackles risen, a fierce timberwolf prowls about here. Adasser's uniform has been wrapped up into his pelt cloak and rolled into a ball. Without its owner, Adasser's delicate unicorn rapier lies thrust into the ground. A good foot away from its twin, Adasser's other delicate unicorn rapier lies thrust into the ground. Adasser, Wolverine's Kit strolls here, alert and vigilant. A striped badger is here, licking its paws. Great Chieftain Turnus Windwhisper stands at the ready, his face adorned with colourful warpaint.
You see exits leading south and northwest.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit stumbles a bit as the world swirls: shifting from the browns and tans of the desert to the verdant hues of the forest, your forest. Soon enough, the trickle of Moon River reaches your ears, and you find yourself back to where you started.
Everiine breathes a sigh of relief and intentionally collapses in the grass. "Everybody here?" he asks weakly.
Turnus lets out a long deep breath as he closes his eyes, letting the sounds and scents of home wash over him as he tries to center himself, his body still trembling with adrenaline.
Feeling the grass underneath his toes, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit scrunches his feet. His skin is sunburt and red, his body trembling to stay standing. "I'm here," he murmurs, his voice still raw.
Speaking in a low growl, Great Chieftain Turnus Windwhisper says, "Okay. Okay. I'm fine."
For a long while, Everiine says nothing. Then, his voice chimes in again with a whisper. "Three Masks of Wolverine," he says simply, declaring his opinion on the success of the quest.
Turnus wipes the back of his hand across his face and flicks down to the ground a disgusting mixture of blood, gore, sand, and mucusy goo - though more of it covers his body.
Speaking in a low growl, Great Chieftain Turnus Windwhisper says, "I dun know what ya two did out there. But ya did good."
Nodding his head, you say to Turnus, "You would have done the same for us."
Pulling himself up, you say, "If you do not mind... I think I need to clean up and rest before I even begin to process what we just experienced."
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit nods his head in silent agreement.
Speaking in a low growl, Great Chieftain Turnus Windwhisper says, "I need a very long bath now."
Turnus grunts noncommitally.
Gathering his equipment, Everiine makes his way toward the commune proper, the quest having exhausted him.
First, thank you to the Admin who have been waiting patiently for this! It seemed there was never a time over the past 6 months where Turnus and I had enough free time at the same time to make this happen. We are very, very glad that you didn't give up on us! Further, thank you for outdoing yourselves--I thought the Boar and the Leopard episodes were going to be hard to beat, but you found a way to make this my favorite vision quest yet! The little details were amazing, such as Adasser's unicorn swords, changing the room to fit the scenery of the vision, and the surprise Split the Party routine.
As usual, this entire RP was made up on the spot, and we had no communication with each other about what we expected or planned to do--not even the scenery or the creature we would face. We simply went for it and let it play out! I hope you get as much enjoyment reading it as we did experiencing it.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Ceremoniously, @Turnus dabs some red tint upon his face, creating the pattern of stripes.
Ceremoniously, Turnus dabs some green tint upon his face, creating the pattern of an image of the greenman.
Everiine stacks wood logs in the center of the circles, preparing them to be lit.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit lingers at the edge of the smaller concentric circle, idly waiting for further instruction.
Looking to his two companions, you say, "We have each journeyed here before. We know the danger that awaits us. If any of us wish to back out, now is the time to speak."
Turnus grunts once and shakes his head.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit fastens his gaze to the two of you, his pale blue eyes blinking only once. He shakes his head, wisps of blond hair shifting.
Everiine nods to his companions and begins to unfasten his equipment. "As before, we can take nothing with us, for this is a test of our own merit." With a rattle and clank, he removes pieces of his plate, stacking them neatly in a pile outside the circles.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit looks away from the trill and the loboshigaru as he peels off his own armaments. Witha snap of a clasp, he unfastens his cloak, pulls away his leathers, and wraps them together in a large mass of fabric and hide. Unclothed, he steps outside the circles and places his pile near him, thrusting his rapiers on either side.
Turnus unfastens his scavenged together armour and shrugs it off, setting it aside along with the rest of his effects.
Grasses beside Moon River.
Thick dreamy cotton clouds are spread across the firmament. This small area of grass leads from the Alabaster Road down to the banks of the Moon River. The road to the south is a line of white stone, threading beneath the tall trees that crowd around it. Moon River to the northwest, however, is a wide expanse of water, a massive river that cuts a path through the trees and forces them apart. Gravel lines the banks as they slope down to meet the river's edge. Two concentric circles of stones are set out in the grasses here. A hornbeam sapling clings tenaciously to the ground here. Reaching up as high as the eye can see looms the awesome presence of a living totem. Adasser, Wolverine's Kit strolls here, alert and vigilant. Hackles risen, a fierce timberwolf prowls about here. Adasser's uniform has been wrapped up into his pelt cloak and rolled into a ball. Without its owner, Adasser's delicate unicorn rapier lies thrust into the ground. A good foot away from its twin, Adasser's other delicate unicorn rapier lies thrust into the ground. Great Chieftain Turnus Windwhisper stands at the ready, his face adorned with colourful warpaint.
You see exits leading south and northwest.
Everiine kneels down next to the pile of wood and strikes his tinderbox. The sparks catch the wood, the flames spreading until a raging campfire sits before you, casting both light and warmth.
Watching as Everiine lights the campfire, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit places himself within the innermost circle. He sits, folding his legs underneath him in the usual meditative position. His chest rises and falls as he breathes in deeply.
Walking to his satchel, Everiine retrieves a packet of spices and herbs and three small, wooden bowls. Dipping the bowls in the waters of the Moon River, he brings the filled containers back to the fire and nestles them among the glowing logs of the fire. Quickly, before the bowls dry and can catch fire, he mixes in the herbs, waiting for the water to heat.
As the bowls are heated, plumes of steam waft away from the now-herbal water. Bubbles form too, tiny ones, indicating heat. They will probably get far too hot for use or consumption before long.
Once the tea has had a chance to steep, Everiine gingerly removes the bowls from the fire. Blackened from the flames, the bowls steam with the heady aroma. The old bird passes one bowl to each of his companions, reserving one for himself.
Turnus takes his own spot crouching down beside the campfire, as if in a hunter's pose ready to spring into action moreso than a meditation. Digging one hand into the dirt to balance himself as with the other he spreads his still fresh facepaint.
Waiting for the bowl to cool enough that it can be handled, you say, "When we enter, I do not know what we will find. More than any other, the realm of Sister Wolverine is foreign to me. We may very well be hunted again. In any case, we must find one of Her servants, an animal known for being a deadly fighter."
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit nods simply.
The elfen stares at the bowl of heated water, and instinctively, he gives it a sniff. Steam rolls across Adasser, Wolverine's Kit's face like fog, and he waits for the brew to cool.
Everiine handles his bowl carefully and raises it up. "May the Warrior Spirits show us mercy and favour, brothers," he says, and with that, he tips the bowl back, drinking the hot tea.
Turnus lifts his own bowl up with his free hand, letting it rest before his face as he deeply inhales the heady aroma, growling out, "Spirits guide us on our journey," before drinking in one long gulp.
Using the tips of his fingers to hold the bowl, and raising it up the same, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit repeats something similar: "May we return to ourselves whole and hearty." With that, he takes a large swallow of tea.
Everiine sets his bowl in the grass in front of him and puts his hands on his knees. With his eyes closed, he inhales and exhales deeply the gentle breeze around him, the smell of the campfire, and listens to the sounds of the surrounding wood. Soon, the sounds begin to recede, falling away into a brief silence as the vision begins to take shape.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit sets his bowl aside, placing his hands upon his knees. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes too, allowing the forest fall away.
Turnus allows his eyes to close letting his breath deepen, still remaining in his crouched position.
In a flash, the sun reappars blazing in the night sky above. A harsh, brutal wind whips through the circles that eradicates the plant life and obliterates the trees into sawdust. In their place, great waves and dunes of sand rise like lumps in badly mixed dough. The sand blows through Everiine's wings and buries the campfire's remains.
Turnus grunts as he opens his eyes squinting them heavily, bringing his free hand up to shield his eyes as he peers across the sand.
Speaking in a low growl, Great Chieftain Turnus Windwhisper says, "Everiine, Adasser? Did ya both make it here too?"
The bright sun nearly blinds Everiine when he opens his eyes. "Why can She never bring us anywhere nice?" he asks, sweat already beading and running down his face.
Tendrils of blond hair streaming out like tongues of light, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit is dusted over by a scouring wind. "Ehhhhh..." he tries to speak, sand sweeping into his mouth. The elfen jumps up, suddenly, quickly, folding his hands over his face as to shield it. Though slightly muffled, Adasser responds to the question: "I'm here, but by the Nine, a desert?" The guard sputters, doing his best to remove any sand from his lips and tongue.
Turnus Windwhisper shouts out to you, his words almost drowned out in the sandstorm, "I hear complaining, so at least I know ya made it. Wouldn't be much of a test to be somewhere pleasant."
His feathers whip about in a frenzy, driven by the unrelenting wind. Everiine does his best to fold them, which has the added benefit of providing a shelter for his body against the unforgiving sun. Quickly, he discovers the heat of the sand on the soles of his feet and leaps into the air, holding himself aloft with powerful flaps of his silver wings. "We need to find shade! We are completely at the mercy of the elements!" he shouts, flapping his wings hard and rising into the air to be a beacon for his fellow Seekers to find.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit tries to follow the rising trill, his blue eyes squinting against the brightness of the sky and the paleness of the dunes. His head turns from side to side, searching for some respite.
Turnus keeps one hand up to shield his eyes, as he lopes ahead, calling out, "See anything at all up there? Both of you remember to keep talking so we can hear ya, don't want to have to come back and drag your arse outta this desert."
Running ahead to catch up to the running loboshigaru, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit exclaims, "Uhhh, waiit for me!"
Everiine focuses on the ground and, imitating the demeanour of a hawk, searches for the sources of each voice. The loboshigaru he spots first, the dull grizzled grey standing out against the sandy dunes as he lopes along; and there, following behind, the bright blond head of the elfen. In the distance, however, he spots a line of figures moving along the ridge. He folds his wings and drops like a stone toward the two figures beneath him, unfurling the fins and slowing his descent until he lands gingerly on the hot sand. "I cannot see much--an endless sea. But there are a few rock formations not far from here on a path running perpendicular to the sun's rays. I did not see any water, but at least they can provide some shade." Leaping back into the air, but staying low, he adds, "And we are not alone. Be careful."
Turnus grunts over his shoulder as he pauses to let the others catch up, "Of course we're not. I expect we're being watched since we got here."
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit stops suddenly as the trill dives down before him and the loboshigaru, who is only a couple paces ahead. Sweat drips down his face and into his eyes; he pants heavily, his chest contracting with every labored attempt at breathing. "Of... course... we... are..." he manages to mutter.
In the distance, a company of dark figures make their way toward you. At the speed they are going, you can reason that they will be on you soon.
Everiine leads the way, gliding when he can, and flapping his wings to keep aloft when necessary, guiding the three lost travellers through the dunes. Ever keeping himself as close to the ground as he can without crashing into it, he struggles to maintain his flight, very nearly careening into the dunes as the wind buffets him about.
Turnus glares at the approaching figures, calculating his next move while grumbling to himself, "Damn bird's gonna get himself killed in that wind." then louder yells into the wind, "They're coming to meet us, we can't make it to the shelter first, so GET READY."
Turnus slows down again as he crouches low, feeling one hand through the sand for a rock or something to use as a weapon.
With each step sinking into the sand, the elfen takes great strides as he pushes forward with the group. At the Great Chieftain's shout, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit stops, toppling over into the sand as he sinks into a collapsing dune. Sand is everywhere: stuck to his skin, combed through his hair, but the elfen draws himself to stand. Like the loboshigaru, he reaches something, anything, only gathering fistfuls of sand.
The rock formation is right there--so close, Everiine could make a flight for it and make it. Frustrated at having been thwarted so close to their goal, the trill drops again, landing rather ungracefully in the sand and nearly on his side, before he pulls himself up steady. Crouching low, wincing as the sand burns his feet, he readies himself to spring again, as if to launch an attack from the skies.
Turnus grunts to the rest of the guard as they gather around him, "Once they get here, just keep them busy and circle around them. We want the storm to our back and in their eyes."
Sand held tightly in the palms of his hands, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit shouts, "Aye aye, Great Chieftain!" The elfen raises his fists to his face, his legs sinking into a defensive posture.
As the figures crest the dune in front of them, Everiine leaps to the side with a great wing-aided jump, bounding along the dune to get to the party's flank.
Turnus holds up a hand to block the wind as he calls out to the figures, whose forms seem less and less human the closer they get, "Hold, we've not come for a fight. But we ain't afraid of one if we have to."
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit stays his ground, watching, waiting as Turnus calls out to the figures. Indeed, they are becoming less and less human, become something more than that - something more monstrous and feral. There are many of them: seven that you can count, armed with spears and knives. One of them brings two fingers to its lips and whistles, the sound barely audible as the sandstorm rages around you. At the sound, they raise their spears, hollering loudly. They plan to attack, regardless of the Chieftain's call otherwise. Adasser's face twists into a grimace, his knuckles growing white and bloodless.
A great rumbling ripples through the dunes. Even over the howling wind, it can be heard; pushing through the desert like a rush of force that sends knees knocking and stomachs churning. But as soon as it passes it is gone, leaving a terrible sense of unease in its wake.
As one, the monstrous creatures turn terribly, terribly still. Nothing in their bodies moves for a long moment save for the wind crashing against them - and then they scatter, splitting and dividing into the swirling sand like rats scrabbling into sewers.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit's body shudders as he falls to the ground, the rumble of the desert rippling through his body.
Turnus lets out a deep growl, glancing over at Adasser to check his composure and giving a barely perceivable nod towards their flank. Tilting his attention back and see them scatter, he lets out a frustrated grunt as he pounces forward, trying to grab at one of them as they scatter.
Everiine springs from the dune in a blaze of silver, intending to lance across the party and knock one of its members to the ground. But the sudden rumbling of the dunes knocks him off balance, and he slams into the sand in a feathered heap while the figures scatter. Pulling himself up and dusting himself off, noticing only a few scrapes here and there, he searches for the source of the disruption. "I think we are in trouble," he yells over the sandstorm.
Was that a tremor, or the wind? The sudden wash of fear makes it hard to tell; what once would have been cast aside as the touch of the environment now seems so much more terrible.
Turnus swears in frustration as he picks himself out of the sand after his dive to catch them, spitting out a mouthful of grit, "Think we better haul arse to that cover while we can."
The profile of the elfen's face is covered with sand as he pushes himself up, his eyes widen and afraid. As he struggles to stand, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit tries to speak, his voice drowned out by the wind. Another rumble pulses through the desert, forcing the guard to fall once again.
"Agreed!" Everiine declares and leaps back into the air, regaining his sense of direction. Spotting the nearby rock formation, he puts his fingers to his mouth lets loose a piercing, warbling whistle to get the attention of his companions. Pointing toward the horizon, he takes off, a gleaming silver dart across the dune.
Suddenly, a rush of sand coruscates into the air some distance away, stopping Everiine in his tracks. The trill barely has time to rear back as some humongous shadow rushes up out of the dune, sending one of the escaping beasts flying upwards. As it falls it disappears into the shadow, and there is an unmistakable crunch of bone and sinew.
Everiine veers wildly off-course and gapes in horror. "Go go go!" he screams to his brothers, trying desperately to track the shadow.
Turnus quickly pulls Adasser up to his feet, "Come on, this ain't a good place to let your fears get to ya. They'll know." nodding grimmly ahead, he grabs one of the spears dropped as they creatures fled and starts pressing ahead, pausing only long enough to make sure Adasser is still following.
The shadow hovers before you, and as the sand rushes past you catch a glimpse of a huge, gaping maw: literal hundreds of needle-sharp teeth spiral down its worm-like body, its huge trunk contorting and relaxing. Turning, it regards the three of you with a cock of its open mouth.
Pulled up by the loboshigaru, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit witnesses the risen beast, his own mouth open and gaping. He is stunned, terrified, unable to move as Turnus presses forward. The sand that was once in his hands seeps through his fingers.
Everiine rears up and swoops to the side again. "Not that way!" he yells down to the loboshigaru and elfen, changing direction and heading for the rocks by another route. Glancing behind him, the unmoving blond glint catches his eye. "Adasser!" he shouts, pulling his wings tightly to his body and entering a dive, aiming himself at his stricken companion. Flaring his wings at the last moment to control himself, he slams into the elfen, tackling him and swooping him out of the way.
Turnus holds up a hand to the others as a signal to slow as he readies his spear, cautiously circling around the giant beast away from its gaping maw. Calling out to it he shouts, "We've come on behalf of Sister Wolverine. We do not fear you!"
...and just in time. The sandworm rears up, rushing through the air in a giant loop, and comes crashing down upon its chosen prey. Propelled by Everiine's diving rescue, Adasser is thrown hastily to the side, and the sandworm misses its target. But its maw is huge, several metres in circumference...and it had more than one target.
Sand rushes out from either side of the sandworm's landing place as Turnus is consumed by its open maw in a fell swoop.
An endless desert.
There is but a light breeze blowing. Dusty winds drag through the dry landscape of this desert, scouring the skin with hot grains of sand. All around you is beige, brown desiccation: a never-ending sight of cresting and falling dunes that move like waves. Overhead, the sun seems permanently set at its apex, with only an outcropping of rocks nearby for cover. Adasser, Wolverine's Kit strolls here, alert and vigilant.
There are no obvious exits.
Though he is but a slender thing, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit's weight propels you into a dune, and the two of you slam into the sand. The elfen struggles out of your grip, fastening his attention to where the Great Chieftain once stood. "Great Chief!" he shouts, his voice breaking through the sandstorm.
An almighty roar resounds through the dunes as the giant worm rushes up out of the sand again, rearing back as if in agony. Through the storm, the faint glint of metal can be seen, piercing its side.
Everiine tumbles and rolls in the sand, landing in a crumpled heap of limbs and feathers. Disoriented, he gets to his feet and shakes his head, sand pouring from his head crest. Hearing the elfen's cry, he spins, searching for Turnus. "Brother!" he shouts, and in a rage, leaps into the air, diving toward the sandworm like a mad bird.
Though Adasser, Wolverine's Kit has no weapons, he too launches himself to aid his Chiefs, his voice shrill and hollering like those monstrous warriors from before.
A muffled cry sounds from within the worm as it writhes about the dunes in abject agony.
Everiine lands on the worm and claws for purchase, hanging on for his dear life. He looks for anything, any weak spot he can attack and use to his advantage.
Running toward the sandworm, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit dives into the sand - his arm stretched to gather a small knife that the hunting party had dropped before. Racing closer, he spots the shine of metal against the sandworm's side. "Here!" he commands to Everiine, launching his newly-acquired blade into the thick exterior of the beast.
Everiine reaches down and rips the knife from the creature's hide in the most painful we he can. Gripping it in both hands, he raises it high above his head, and with a howl, drives the blade deeply into the creature over and over again.
You push, and push, and - there! With a hideous tear of muscle and sinew the beast is cleft in twain. Turnus comes soaring out of the sandworm's bowels in a flurry of sand, holding a half-broken spear triumphantly aloft like a legendary warrior.
Everiine topples over as the worm crashes to the ground, rolling in the sand with the creature's blood running down his arm and the hunting knife still clutched in his hand.
Turnus lets out a loud roar with a mixture of fury, bloodlust, and triumph as he wheels around on the worm quickly appraising it.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit falls to his knees, a spray of blood splashed upon his bare chest, watching as the beast collapses from the onslaught of the three warriors. It seems dead, the gaping wound in its side far too serious of a blow to survive from; rivulets of blood and stretches of muscle fibres smear across the hole. Panting, the elfen shouts, "Feidhmigh Ar Son An Serenguard!"
Your senses tingle as movement sounds behind you: the malformed beasts, which before the sandworm had seemed so monstrous, have returned. Moving as one, they drop to their crooked knees in salute to your triumph.
Without bothering to clean off his arm or brush away the sand, Everiine Silvermoon lumbers over to Turnus and punches him in the arm. "Do that to me again, and I will tell flea jokes every day for a year," he yells in anger. But soon, the exterior facade cracks, and the old bird smiles. "You damned old dog," he says, pulling his brother into a tight embrace. Hearing the figures approach, he retrieves the hunting knife from the sand and holds it out, hilt-first, to the leader.
Roaring out again in rage, Turnus stabs the beast with his half spear again and again, disregarding if it is dead or not, he wants to make sure before finally panting, he stops and steps away from it, covered in gore, sand, and whoknowswhat from the worm.
The leading beast rises, nearly seven feet tall when fully stood. He inclines his matted fur head towards the trill, and accepts the knife with reverence, before turning to regard Turnus. Something glints in his beady black eyes - amusement, perhaps - but his muzzle twists in an approving grin.
Everiine Silvermoon puts his hand on Turnus's back. "Easy, easy..." he says, trying to calm him down.
Turnus finally turns his attention away from the worm, quickly glancing at the other two Serenguard. Noticing the figures from earlier he casts a withering glare of disapproval their way.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit directs his sights upon the returned, his chest still heaving.
Everiine regards the leading beast and bows, folding his silver wings to his back. "We came to learn about being a deadly fighter," he says, turning to appraise the fallen sandworm. "I think we learned more than we anticipated."
The leading beast's grin turns into a smirk. With a gruff movement of his wrist, he gestures to the others, who scuttle around the sandworm and begin to gather the corpse. You notice that they attend to the corpse almost reverently, as if honouring it as clearly as they would one of their own fallen.
Nodding in agreement, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit shifts his weight, rising to stand. His lips are chapped, and the elfen runs his tongue across to wet them. He stares with fascination as the beastly band attend to the sandworm, ripping part skin, scale, and sinew. To the Chieftains, he says in a hoarse voice, "Perhaps we should seek about getting back?"
Everiine runs his hand over his arms, feeling the red blisters burning into his skin. At once, he becomes aware of the cuts and scrapes over his body, the scalding sand burning his feet and the intense glare of the sun beating down on his head. "Aye, I think that would be wise," he says.
Turnus finally releases his deathgrip on the spear, as he blinks as if only now noticing the blinding sun again, "Yes, I think it is time." Then finally addressing the beasts-creatures, "Ya can tell Sister Wolverine about this when ya see her."
A snort escapes the leader's muzzle, as his form begins to fade. "She knows," he growls, the words barely recognisable as common. They echo around you as the sand blurs, colour beginning to seep back into the world.
Everiine lurches forward, losing his sense of balance and direction in the shift.
Grasses beside Moon river.
A gentle breeze whistles around you. This small area of grass leads from the Alabaster Road down to the banks of the Moon River. The road to the south is a line of white stone, threading beneath the tall trees that crowd around it. Moon River to the northwest, however, is a wide expanse of water, a massive river that cuts a path through the trees and forces them apart. Gravel lines the banks as they slope down to meet the river's edge. Two concentric circles of stones are set out in the grasses here. A hornbeam sapling clings tenaciously to the ground here. Reaching up as high as the eye can see looms the awesome presence of a living totem. Hackles risen, a fierce timberwolf prowls about here. Adasser's uniform has been wrapped up into his pelt cloak and rolled into a ball. Without its owner, Adasser's delicate unicorn rapier lies thrust into the ground. A good foot away from its twin, Adasser's other delicate unicorn rapier lies thrust into the ground. Adasser, Wolverine's Kit strolls here, alert and vigilant. A striped badger is here, licking its paws. Great Chieftain Turnus Windwhisper stands at the ready, his face adorned with colourful warpaint.
You see exits leading south and northwest.
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit stumbles a bit as the world swirls: shifting from the browns and tans of the desert to the verdant hues of the forest, your forest. Soon enough, the trickle of Moon River reaches your ears, and you find yourself back to where you started.
Everiine breathes a sigh of relief and intentionally collapses in the grass. "Everybody here?" he asks weakly.
Turnus lets out a long deep breath as he closes his eyes, letting the sounds and scents of home wash over him as he tries to center himself, his body still trembling with adrenaline.
Feeling the grass underneath his toes, Adasser, Wolverine's Kit scrunches his feet. His skin is sunburt and red, his body trembling to stay standing. "I'm here," he murmurs, his voice still raw.
Speaking in a low growl, Great Chieftain Turnus Windwhisper says, "Okay. Okay. I'm fine."
For a long while, Everiine says nothing. Then, his voice chimes in again with a whisper. "Three Masks of Wolverine," he says simply, declaring his opinion on the success of the quest.
Turnus wipes the back of his hand across his face and flicks down to the ground a disgusting mixture of blood, gore, sand, and mucusy goo - though more of it covers his body.
Speaking in a low growl, Great Chieftain Turnus Windwhisper says, "I dun know what ya two did out there. But ya did good."
Nodding his head, you say to Turnus, "You would have done the same for us."
Pulling himself up, you say, "If you do not mind... I think I need to clean up and rest before I even begin to process what we just experienced."
Adasser, Wolverine's Kit nods his head in silent agreement.
Speaking in a low growl, Great Chieftain Turnus Windwhisper says, "I need a very long bath now."
Turnus grunts noncommitally.
Gathering his equipment, Everiine makes his way toward the commune proper, the quest having exhausted him.
Everiine is a man, and is very manly. This MAN before you is so manly you might as well just gender bend right now, cause he's the manliest man that you ever did see. His manly shape has spurned many women and girlyer men to boughs of fainting. He stands before you in a manly manerific typical man-like outfit which is covered in his manly motto: "I am a man!"
Daraius said: You gotta risk it for the biscuit.
Pony power all the way, yo. The more Brontaurs the better.
12
(c) Iron Realms Entertainment 2012.
Comments
Here's inside the sand worm from my POV, awesome to see the part I missed, by the way.
..and just in time. The sandworm rears up, rushing through the air in a giant loop, and comes crashing down upon its chosen prey. Propelled by Everiine's diving rescue, Adasser is thrown hastily to the side, and the sandworm misses its target. But its maw is huge, several metres in circumference...and it had more than one target.
Within the bowels of a giant worm.
Sand, everywhere - so much sand, roiling and turning with you as everything about rumbles with deep vibrations. Ribbed flesh extends in a giant tunnel as far as you can see, pulsating like the innards of a worm crumpling together and stretching out. Periodically, the whole world shifts, throwing you onto what was moments earlier the ceiling, and tossing sand into your red-raw eyes.
There are no obvious exits.
You grunt noncommitally.
And somehow...you are alive.
(using survey here)
You discern:
Your environment conforms to that of flesh.
Turnus grips his spear tightly, "Fuckin worm, see how ya like this." then stabs down with it into the floor with all his might.
Well...it certainly doesn't like that. The worm rears up - it's like being put in a barrel and then thrown down a mountain, with the addition of sand that is getting into more places than you'd care to think about.
Turnus holds onto the spear as tight as he can for as long as he can, snapping the handle off as he tries to use it to steady himself against the dizzying rolling.
Turnus growls out many swear words as he rolls around inside the worm, some of the curses are clearly ones invented on the spot that perfectly show his well-thought out feelings on the lovely locale.
Turnus yells out, "If ya two can hear me, I'm still alive. So cut this fucking worm open and let me out."
Somehow, the riotous dance you have entered into is actually -helping-. The flesh of the worm is giving way beneath the spear. The more it moves, the more it gives - and the more pain the creature feels. Its agony is moving you faster and faster, and soon you feel the flesh tearing and rending under your desperate grip.
Turnus twists the spear tip into the flesh of the beast, desperately gripping into it as tightly as he can, so tight his fingers begin to bleed from the strain.
An endless desert.
It is quite mild. Dusty winds drag through the dry landscape of this desert, scouring the skin with hot grains of sand. All around you is beige, brown desiccation: a never-ending sight of cresting and falling dunes that move like waves. Overhead, the sun seems permanently set at its apex, with only an outcropping of rocks nearby for cover. Two concentric circles of stones are set out in the grasses here. A hornbeam sapling clings tenaciously to the ground here. Reaching up as high as the eye can see looms the awesome presence of a living totem. Hackles risen, a fierce timberwolf prowls about here. Adasser's uniform has been wrapped up into his pelt cloak and rolled into a ball. Without its owner, Adasser's delicate unicorn rapier lies thrust into the ground. A good foot away from its twin, Adasser's other delicate unicorn rapier lies thrust into the ground. Adasser, Wolverine's Kit strolls here, alert and vigilant. High Chief Everiine Silvermoon the Wise, Centaur Brother is here.
There are no obvious exits.
You push, and push, and - there! With a hideous tear of muscle and sinew the beast is cleft in twain. Turnus comes soaring out of the sandworm's bowels in a flurry of sand, holding a half-broken spear triumphantly aloft like a legendary warrior.
p rapier
This rapier has been shaped into the whimsical form of a unicorn, the long blade taking the place of the creature's fabled horn. The blade is long and slender, forged from steel with spiralling grooves inlaid with gold and silver wire. Only the very tip of the blade carries an edge, though the tip is needle sharp. At the base of the blade is a pearl unicorn's head, the eyes of deep blue sapphire and the ears lined with a thin veneer of pink coral. A flowing mane of stiff gold and silver wire spreads out from the unicorn's head to form the handguard, curving down to join the pommel. The hilt of this rapier has been inlaid with pearly glyphs on each side of the flattened grip, the steel between them bearing whimsical swirling patterns of gold and silver to match the rest of the weapon.
It weighs about 4 pounds and 0 ounce(s).
It bears the distinctive mark of Adasser, Wolverine's Kit.
It has the following aliases: rapier, sword, weapon.
wp rapier
It is a one-handed weapon.
Damage: 543 Precision: 595 Speed: 391
There are no poisons or magical effects on Adasser's delicate unicorn rapier.
p uniform
Everything that Adasser wears has been wrapped up into a mass of some significant size by his cloak of pelts.
It weighs about 3 pounds and 0 ounce(s).
It has a warmth factor of 12.
It has the following aliases: uniform, clothes.
Tall, muscled, and slender, Adasser stands proudly with the armaments befitting his station. Cut
from the highest-quality leather and well-treated too boot, a smartly cut suit of armour dresses the
elfen; it is relatively undecorated, save for small red-embroidered marks reminiscent of the a
leopard's clawmarks. Around his shoulders, a heavy pelt of some wintry creature falls and streams
out behind him, barely stirred even by the strongest of gales. His head is crowned with an antlered,
fox-furred skullcap that does little to contain his long, blond hair. At the juncture of his right
wrist and hand, a jagged red strike zigzags on the back of his palm. Adasser's face is a handsome
one, his eyes startling in their hue: the palest blue like when Moon Lake is frozen over. Like a
treasured memento, a sprig of chervil encased in a glass pendant hangs from the guard's neck. He
holds a delicate unicorn rapier in both hands. The skin on his face is peeling, and it is a raw
shade of red.
Adasser, Wolverine's Mask is quite powerful.
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
wp rapier
It is a one-handed weapon.
Damage: 543 Precision: 595 Speed: 391
There are no poisons or magical effects on Adasser's delicate unicorn rapier.
what