sassafrisk (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sassafrisk) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
melodiesofeternity2018-11-16 11:26 am
sassafrisk) wrote in melodiesofeternity2018-11-16 11:26 am
Player Plot: Winter Isn't Coming, it's Already Here
Who: Everybody who signed up for the event.
When: November 23rd-30th
Where: The Uncharted Territories
What: Frisk leads an expedition into the North to try and find Hades. It doesn't go well.
Warnings/Notes: Post a toplevel to each of the segments below if you want. Encounters will be posted under the appropriate toplevel. For combat, I'd appreciate it if you put where your putting your passive job stat boosts in the subject line of your first post, plus any other boosts your character may have. Thank you!
THE STAGING GROUND (DAY ONE)
The directions that the volunteers have been sent over mail lead to a chocobo ranch just a day away from Armstrong Fort. For a groundbreaking journey into the unknown, the staging ground for Frisk’s expedition isn’t all that impressive. A quaint, if run-down, farmhouse lies next to the chocobos’ grazing patch, where Frisk can be seen arguing with a surly-looking Elezen. White chocobos coo at the new arrivals next to a mound of barely organized high-quality camping gear, staring at them curiously (or blankly, depending on how much intelligence to ascribe to chocobos). It’s a brisk November morning, and the cold bites into marrow of one’s bones as frost-encrusted dead grass crunches beneath the chocobos’ feet. Bleak grey clouds block out the sun, threatening snow but never quite delivering. Resignation and bleakness permeate the air. This certainly isn’t an auspicious start to an already dubious quest.
INTO THE VAST (DAY ONE)
The first day of the expedition is, in a word, boring. Dreary, depressing, monotonous, and several other words of similar caliber would also be apt descriptors. The moody weather doesn’t change through the long hours of plodding towards Armstrong Fort, the clouds oscillating between grey and sullen, and black and intimidating; but always refusing to actually burst and bring down snow on the party’s head. Not even random encounters deign to make an appearance to spice up the day, due to the extensive efforts of Tark Varentain’s military. Perhaps the only redeeming factor of this first day is that the flat terrain and docile chocobos make the actual riding of the birds a breeze, with only the most inept of chocobo riders--such as Frisk--falling off or bruising their rumps through other means. With MogNet reception growing spottier as the team approaches the Claus Snowfields, the only way to pass the time is with conversation.
ARMSTRONG FORT (NIGHT ONE)
When Armstrong Fort appears on the horizon near sundown, it brings a sudden change in weather. Snowflakes begin falling from the sky, increasing in numbers and force as the expedition party makes its way towards the imposing fortress. After just thirty minutes, it’s nearly impossible to see ten feet past your chocobo’s beak. Thankfully, the white chocobos are used to such conditions, so the expedition party still makes good time. The party arrives at Armstrong Fort an hour after the inclement weather begins, and they’re greeted by grim guards who refuse to let them in after a solid fifteen minutes of arguing with Frisk, despite the permit for lodging that they display.
Inside, the fort is just as bleak as the outside, although in a significantly different way. Primarily elezen and human soldiers huddle around sputtering fires on the walls, peering through the snowstorm looking for any signs of monsters. The cries of the wounded echo from the medical hall, although all of the soldiers remain stoic even to their comrades’ pain. If pressed, one of the guards will begrudgingly explain that without a regular shipment of mana potions, their healers often can’t use magic on every wounded soldier, forcing them to do it the old-fashioned way.
The empty bunks that the volunteers are escorted to are uncomfortable, cold, and barren, but it’s marginally better than sleeping on the floor. Marginally. But whatever slumber the party gets is interrupted at one in the morning, when a pack of ferocious yetis attacks the walls. The soldiers stationed at Armstrong Fort are used to such assaults and don’t need any help fending off the monsters, but if any of the adventurers give their assistance anyways, they’ll earn the guards’ grudging respect and perhaps a little something for their trouble.
CLAUS SNOWFIELDS (DAYS TWO AND THREE)
The volunteers are awoken just before the crack of dawn, dragged (by force if need be) to a breakfast of heated ration block and hustled out the door before the sun would even peek over the horizon if it wasn’t completely obscured by the endless snowstorm. From there, a boring journey becomes downright miserable.
Everybody has to huddle uncomfortably close together on their chocobos to keep from losing each other in the oppressive whiteness of the storm. Even the high-end survival gear that the volunteers are wearing only slightly blunts the biting edge of the cold, the raw frigidity of the environment digging deep into the marrow of the bones and nestling there like some twisted parasite. The white chocobos, as surefooted as they are in this environment, struggle against the howling gales, each step forward seeming like a monumental accomplishment.
It isn’t long before all sense of direction is lost. Compasses stop working just a few hours in, their only use being pointing a way vaguely forward to venture towards. The only reliable way to tell the time is the frequency and strength of monster attacks; as the day inches towards night at an agonizingly slow pace, more and more monsters bound out of the snow to savage the party. At the start of this leg of the journey, packs of roving monsters only came once or twice every hour. But as the hours grind past it begins seeming like the party can’t have five minutes of peace before being interrupted by some manner of beast. It’s not just yetis and ice elementals, either: there are strange, exotic animals, all the apex of physical perfection that comes with the ability to survive in such a harsh environment. Magical constructs such as ice golems and undead dressed in the clothes of other explorers also sometimes come charging out of the snow at the party, forcing a confrontation.
When: November 23rd-30th
Where: The Uncharted Territories
What: Frisk leads an expedition into the North to try and find Hades. It doesn't go well.
Warnings/Notes: Post a toplevel to each of the segments below if you want. Encounters will be posted under the appropriate toplevel. For combat, I'd appreciate it if you put where your putting your passive job stat boosts in the subject line of your first post, plus any other boosts your character may have. Thank you!
The directions that the volunteers have been sent over mail lead to a chocobo ranch just a day away from Armstrong Fort. For a groundbreaking journey into the unknown, the staging ground for Frisk’s expedition isn’t all that impressive. A quaint, if run-down, farmhouse lies next to the chocobos’ grazing patch, where Frisk can be seen arguing with a surly-looking Elezen. White chocobos coo at the new arrivals next to a mound of barely organized high-quality camping gear, staring at them curiously (or blankly, depending on how much intelligence to ascribe to chocobos). It’s a brisk November morning, and the cold bites into marrow of one’s bones as frost-encrusted dead grass crunches beneath the chocobos’ feet. Bleak grey clouds block out the sun, threatening snow but never quite delivering. Resignation and bleakness permeate the air. This certainly isn’t an auspicious start to an already dubious quest.
The first day of the expedition is, in a word, boring. Dreary, depressing, monotonous, and several other words of similar caliber would also be apt descriptors. The moody weather doesn’t change through the long hours of plodding towards Armstrong Fort, the clouds oscillating between grey and sullen, and black and intimidating; but always refusing to actually burst and bring down snow on the party’s head. Not even random encounters deign to make an appearance to spice up the day, due to the extensive efforts of Tark Varentain’s military. Perhaps the only redeeming factor of this first day is that the flat terrain and docile chocobos make the actual riding of the birds a breeze, with only the most inept of chocobo riders--such as Frisk--falling off or bruising their rumps through other means. With MogNet reception growing spottier as the team approaches the Claus Snowfields, the only way to pass the time is with conversation.
When Armstrong Fort appears on the horizon near sundown, it brings a sudden change in weather. Snowflakes begin falling from the sky, increasing in numbers and force as the expedition party makes its way towards the imposing fortress. After just thirty minutes, it’s nearly impossible to see ten feet past your chocobo’s beak. Thankfully, the white chocobos are used to such conditions, so the expedition party still makes good time. The party arrives at Armstrong Fort an hour after the inclement weather begins, and they’re greeted by grim guards who refuse to let them in after a solid fifteen minutes of arguing with Frisk, despite the permit for lodging that they display.
Inside, the fort is just as bleak as the outside, although in a significantly different way. Primarily elezen and human soldiers huddle around sputtering fires on the walls, peering through the snowstorm looking for any signs of monsters. The cries of the wounded echo from the medical hall, although all of the soldiers remain stoic even to their comrades’ pain. If pressed, one of the guards will begrudgingly explain that without a regular shipment of mana potions, their healers often can’t use magic on every wounded soldier, forcing them to do it the old-fashioned way.
The empty bunks that the volunteers are escorted to are uncomfortable, cold, and barren, but it’s marginally better than sleeping on the floor. Marginally. But whatever slumber the party gets is interrupted at one in the morning, when a pack of ferocious yetis attacks the walls. The soldiers stationed at Armstrong Fort are used to such assaults and don’t need any help fending off the monsters, but if any of the adventurers give their assistance anyways, they’ll earn the guards’ grudging respect and perhaps a little something for their trouble.
The volunteers are awoken just before the crack of dawn, dragged (by force if need be) to a breakfast of heated ration block and hustled out the door before the sun would even peek over the horizon if it wasn’t completely obscured by the endless snowstorm. From there, a boring journey becomes downright miserable.
Everybody has to huddle uncomfortably close together on their chocobos to keep from losing each other in the oppressive whiteness of the storm. Even the high-end survival gear that the volunteers are wearing only slightly blunts the biting edge of the cold, the raw frigidity of the environment digging deep into the marrow of the bones and nestling there like some twisted parasite. The white chocobos, as surefooted as they are in this environment, struggle against the howling gales, each step forward seeming like a monumental accomplishment.
It isn’t long before all sense of direction is lost. Compasses stop working just a few hours in, their only use being pointing a way vaguely forward to venture towards. The only reliable way to tell the time is the frequency and strength of monster attacks; as the day inches towards night at an agonizingly slow pace, more and more monsters bound out of the snow to savage the party. At the start of this leg of the journey, packs of roving monsters only came once or twice every hour. But as the hours grind past it begins seeming like the party can’t have five minutes of peace before being interrupted by some manner of beast. It’s not just yetis and ice elementals, either: there are strange, exotic animals, all the apex of physical perfection that comes with the ability to survive in such a harsh environment. Magical constructs such as ice golems and undead dressed in the clothes of other explorers also sometimes come charging out of the snow at the party, forcing a confrontation.
no subject
--the Iron Giants take one step forward in unison. Then, a high ringing sound cuts through the air. The monsters stop, turn around, and head back in an entirely different direction, completely ignoring the camp.
A dome of light in the distance begins approaching the camp, two humanoid figures huddled within it.
no subject
Why was nobody going back? Didn't they know it was better off with one going down than an entire group? Then they could wake the others and they would all combine their strengths to-
The sound rang through the air and Kanji froze. The colossi turned and began to... leave.
"...What." No, really. What.
But he shook his head to clear it and raised a Cura, with a surge of light. That's for you, Azusa. He can worry about himself in a minute. The next one's gonna be for Frisk, they had time...!
no subject
Kisegawa almost let out a retort -- And just how am I supposed to dig them all out by myself? -- but swallowed it. She only knew the girl through the eyes of the others, but that was an entertainer's smile if she's ever seen one. Never show your sadness in front of an audience, huh?
They were all standing their ground. The thought of being the only one to run away felt rotten, but...
She didn't get the chance to make a decision. All of a sudden, the Giants were turning away, as if responding to the ringing sound.
"Did... someone just call them off?" Was that even possible? She could just about make out light coming their way. A friend? Another foe?
no subject
"Are those...people? I can't tell from here," she says mostly to Kisegawa. She dusts the snow off herself as best she can before shuffling closer, moving to stand more where Naoto and Kanji are, checking over her shoulder to make sure Kisegawa is following. Or staying.
Once she's reached them, she kneels next to Frisk, hugging them from behind for comfort. There, there. It's okay. Azusa is here.
no subject
Stubborn meet stubborn; Naoto was not leaving Kanji alone, hair standing as she shot a look in his direction. They were almost here and she shifted her stance...
... but then, they're retreating at the sound? Brows furrowed, Naoto doesn't lower her guard just yet - that dome of light was approaching. Who in the world?
no subject
The dome of light reaches the camp, revealing two elezen dressed in heavy yeti furs and riding white chocobos inside. They look at each other, then at the group, then at the camp, then at each other again before having a hushed discussion. After a moment, the elezen dismount, one of them unfastening a saddlebag from their chocobo while the other approaches the party, hands up.
The designated ambassador stares at the party like they're PuPus for a moment, clearly at a loss for words. "...um. Are you alright?" she asks lamely, pulling down her scarf and mask to reveal a befreckled woman with long brain hair done up and braids. "Well, uh. Obviously you aren't, don't worry, Tlasaz is getting you some potions, but... do you. Need. Any more help?" She's clearly at just as much of a loss as the party is.
no subject
There, a Cura for Frisk, offered with a raised arm. But he hadn't taken his eyes off the approaching light, and quickly resumed his stance, both hands on the handle of the greatsword. Feeling marginally better from Azusa's healing, that didn't stop him from being scrappy.
Ignoring the offer for aid, he snapped hoarsely, "You can redirect 'em. You probably sent 'em here."
He advanced two steps. He looked like complete shit, certainly, but if fighting gangs on the regular back home told you anything, it was to keep the hackles up. Thanks to them, and thanks to a certain slimeball of a "police officer", he wasn't about to soften up at the first offer.
no subject
Kisegawa rejoined the others now that the immediate danger appeared to have passed. She didn't want to blindly trust these strangers, but... This was a bad time to antagonize anyone. Least of all possible rescuers.
"Our shelter came down in the storm and we were set upon by these giants." She gestured towards the fallen Iron Giant. "The rest of them turned around and left just before you came."
She watched the elezen closely, trying to gauge their motives. They looked more confused than anything else.
no subject
When she's done, she steps out from behind the tall man and steps out next to Kisegawa.
"Please," she adds to her words. "The shelter's going to be difficult for just the four of us to dig out on our own. We need hands more than we need potions, I think."
no subject
"... Stand down, Kanji-kun."
Stand down, but don't take his eyes off them or the field. Her own eyes were watching, careful, and not certain about trusting anyone at once out here. She wanted to ask where they came from and why they were out here, but their camp did need to be uncovered.
no subject
When the others ask for help with the shelters, she nods, and yells back towards her partner. "Tlasaz, c'mon! There's some shelters over here that need clearing, fast." With that, the elezen kneels down next to the nearest shelter, and presses another rune. The heat it gives off becomes more intense, and the snow around the shelter begins melting away at a rapid rate.
no subject
Nice of 'em to start freeing the shelter, though. Brownie points. But that left the issue of where the Giants came from and what they came here to find. Still, without looking over, he cast just one more Cura, this time for Naoto. Potions helped a lot, but they were gross.
He then turned and saw to digging the shelter out of the slush.
no subject
Before that, the implications of that artifact were too important to pass up.
"You can even fend off the storm?" Kisegawa watched the woman work her magic with interest. "Then it looks like you've saved our lives in more ways than one."
After all, even with the Iron Giants gone, they still could very well have frozen to death out here.
no subject
Azusa thanks him as she passes. Even with the seal work being done to melt the snow, it's not melting fast enough for her. Using one of the tools they used to set up the shelter, she starts to shovel the snow on her own. It's very clear that she's never used a shovel before, but she's determined to help out and at least clear where one of the entries into the shelter used to be.
"Uendo-chan is right. I'm thankful you're here. Our dear companions will be glad to be free, too."
With those kind words of agreement, she returns to putting her back into her work. She'd get down on her knees to shovel snow with her hands if she had to.
no subject
But that's all she says before nodding and heading over to help dig the others out. The warm light of Cura gave her a good energy boost; and, switching asterisks over to Summoner, she calls upon Shiva to help move the ice and snow around.