The Heroes of Light vs. The Sakura Forest (round 1)

[littlemhigan]

Who: Everyone who signed up!
When: October 10
Where: The Sakura forest
What: There's supposed to be an Eidolon here! Lets go find it!
Warnings/Notes: it's October and there are supposedly mimics in here.

This morning is damp and foggy, lingering swaths of mist a testament to the rapid changes in temperature that always seem a hallmark of the fall season. The sunlight is still too new to burn it away, and the world seems hazy and lavender.

It would be beautiful, if it wasn’t so eerie. Perhaps it’s simply the morning chill, but skin prickling up to gooseflesh seems to be a common occurrence amongst the gathered crowd, and Castor herself, standing at the head and sorting people into teams, is not immune to this.

Behind her stands the southwestern edge of the Sakura forest. The fog within seems particularly dense, and as it diffuses the morning light, the forest seems almost otherworldly; a glimpse at something fey and unknowable and eternal. It’s likewise eerily quiet; even accounting for the fog smothering all but the closest noise, there are no audible signs of life from within the forest’s boundaries.

If the hair on the back of your neck is slowly raising, you’re probably not alone in that, either.

“Alright!” Castor calls, once she’s finished organizing people, “That should be the lot’ve ye! We don’t know what all’s about in there, and I’ve had word that the local wildlife has been ornery of late, so keep yer wits about ye, and stay close te your mates!

“I’ve given each of ye a handful of ribbon…” she pauses to hold up a handful of her own, a cheery red that somehow looks ominous in this atmosphere. “A colour te each team! Use ‘em to mark yer way in; I don’t want te have te go fishin’ fer lost souls when all’s said and done, and if ye find somethin’ ye’ll leave an easy way back.

“I’d advise ye sort someone te keep an eye on the Slates. Twelve willin’ they work more’n ten fulms into the wood, stay in touch best ye can over the network. And don’t hesitate te turn back if ye feel things’re goin’ poorly fer you an’ yours. I’d rather ye come back alive and emptyhanded.”

Here she pauses again, seeming to count something out on her fingers. “I think that’s the last of what I’ve got te say. Try and be back ‘fore sundown, yeah?”


[ooc: And go! I will be endeavouring to reply to each party at least ONCE daily, regardless of who’s posted in the meantime (we’ll see how it goes)!]

Comments

[desertbloomed]

Ashelia nods in thanks and takes Riku's hand, hoisting herself up onto Naomi's back. She sheathes her sword, not wanting to accidentally cut their medic. She looks back in the direction of the wyvern briefly, letting out a quiet sigh of relief. That could have gone far worse. They aren't out of the woods yet though, so to speak, so she focuses on the shapes in front of them.

"Keep your eyes peeled for it," she murmurs. "But we should head to that potential cover."

[chatwithdeath]

Two passengers were fine. And while they get on, Naomi keeps an eye on the wyvern, again careful of her own movements until it looks away. Then it was only a matter of quietly stalking behind the others with fluid movements that made for a smooth ride. Until they were inside, she would continue looking back with several eyes while maintaining the blue ones forward.

"I'm keeping watch on our friend back there. Just tap me if you see our specter."

[spaceforged]

Shiro brings up the rear this time. If he needs to he can use his skills to shield the others. "Stick to the shadows if you can." He adds as he picks his way along with care. There's nothing he's going to leave to chance. They came too close.

"I'll be the rear guard for now."

[shadowsthedawn]

Riku holds as still as possible in his position on Naomi's back, both to avoid causing her any discomfort and to keep from catching the wyvern's attention. Even as they move further into the fog and away from the creature, he can't help glancing back at it. Even with Shiro in the rear, he can't help but feel uneasy at the thought of the wyvern attacking them from behind.

"How do we know that ghost is even friendly and isn't leading us into a trap?" Leading them right by the wyvern hadn't exactly been what he would call a friendly gesture.

[littlemhigan]

"No way te know," Castor mumbles quietly, "but I don't have a better idea, an' I like the idea've cover in case that lizard gets curious again..."

There's no sign of the spectre again until the group approaches the building, where it seems to dart around a corner and vanish back into the mist. This close, several more similar structures are revealed in proximity to the first one. The perceptive (or paranoid) among you might, in the very peripherals of their sights, see the forms of many others moving about the mist. The figures seem to take no notice of the party, and simply mill about from structure to structure and...

Someone might want to stop Castor before she walks into that tripwire on the ground.

[timecrash]

Serge, ordinarily not the brightest crayon in the pantry, has had a stroke of luck. He catches the glint of light off the tripwire, sees Castor walking towards it-
"Watch out!" he hisses, putting a hand in front to stop her, pointing with one hand to the glinting wire, barely visible in the fog. "I think we're making progress. Somebody doesn't want us here."

[angealwings]

Angeal was too far back to be able to spot that tripwire, but once Serge has pointed it out, he narrows his eyes.

"Traps." Quietly. It may be a while before he makes a loud noise. "Watch your step, but if there is one kind of trap, there will probably be more." Ghost. Specters. Too. Angeal breathes out softly, then steps to the tripwire and kneels down to see if he can make out what kind of a problem it would have triggered without actually touching - or pulling - the thing.

[littlemhigan]

((Shiro has since dropped so we'll assume he's tagging along doing paladin things for now.))

Castor is fast enough to stop herself at Serge's warning and slowly steps over the trap as Angeal approaches to study it.

A cursory glance of the area indicates that tripping the wire would have dropped a net on the party from above - nothing dire, but inconvenient nonetheless.

Castor hums in contemplation, then casts her gaze downward, looking for more traps....but kneels to pick something up instead - There's a worn book in her hand.

"Found somethin..." she mutters, flipping it open. "...can't read it for shite though."