HEARTSTONE TROLLMARKET ※ CAMP

[wildestmods]

HEARTSTONE TROLLMARKET

The Nightrenders and the Sisters stop following their prey once they get some distance into the woods. The protective aura coming from the shelter up north is full of deep protective magic.

It is a strange place. It looks like a massive cavern underground was somehow thrust up through earth and stone, until the roof and one wall cracked and fell in many places, creating a sort of canyon with rounded inner walls. If they look up they'll see a starry band of the night sky through the cracked roof. The rocks clearly crushed some houses and businesses but seem to have finally settled, so it's safe to wander around.

The way the ceiling opened was a source of far more tragedy than the falling rocks, though. When day breaks, they'll see the band of sunlight that cut through this community. Scattered through this band of light are large figures wrapped in sheets and blankets, tied in place with pieces of bright cloth. Little trinkets lay scattered at their feet. If anyone takes one of the blankets off, they'll see the petrified figure of a troll, their stone face forever etched in fear and surprise. It's clear from the cloth coverings and the trinkets that this is a people that cared for their dead, and that had community and family life. Among some of the trinkets are the drawings of children and dolls left for their lost loved one.

Market stalls have been ransacked, house doors are open, with larders of whatever this people ate empty, like the people here left very suddenly. Perhaps they felt the need to leave because of their sudden exposure - their community not thrust on the surface, the walls and ceiling holding back the sun crumbling.

Or perhaps the were nervous because of what was happening to the great crystal at the center of their world: the Heartstone. This great glowing crystal that got folded into the Wilderlands, was the nexus of magical energy of a world, its lifeblood, the beating heart of all magic. It sustained and protected the trolls.

It is cracked and dying. Dimming to a deeper color, occasionally flickering in a way that shows that someday it will dim completely. But not tonight. Tonight its nourishing, protective magic will keep the monsters away and give them some light in the dark. Even without the torches of the trolls, the Heartstone's light causes gems and crystals in the cavern - now a canyon - to glimmer with its protective light.

OOC DETAILS
❧ Quest magic: Players can handwave that the quest bond magic ultimately tugged the group to the Heartstone, eventually teleporting any stragglers to it. Once the group is gathered there, no one can go far without getting teleported back.

❧ Time Period: The mods will set up a top-level for the night they all arrived, and a top-level for players to post their ongoing threads set over the ensuing days. Unless the group decides to leave faster, they will likely stay there for several IC days. (And the mods will probably allow this rest stop to run 1-2 OOC weeks, but will touch base with the playerbase on their preferences.)

❧ NPCing: No npcs are left in Trollmarket - the trolls have abandoned their now unsafe home. However, gnomes can be found wandering the canyon. The gnomes seem sentient, as they clearly speak a squeaky language that just can't be translated, but they're near feral, once the pests of the trolls. They're small, extremely fast, massively strong for their tiny sizes, and love to steal the belongings of bigger people. Groups of them sometimes gang up to carry larger items. They're also aggressive: prone to biting with their pointy teeth, and taking off their pointy caps and leaping at people to stab them with the pointy horns on the tops of their heads.

❧ Supplies: There is no human food in Trollmarket and the remains of any stalls advertising food make that clear. The trollish writing on the signs is translated by translation magic to Sylvaen, the language they've all gained knowledge of. Apparently the trolls liked to eat rocks and various minerals, socks stolen from humans, and cats. Fortunately, the cages from the stalls advertising the last one are empty, and the feral cat colony around Trollmarket makes it clear they weren't taken as emergency rations. (Occasionally there is a great racket as the gnomes and cats go to war.) However, there are resources like course cloth, woolen blankets, and sewing and cobbling materials. There are also leather goods like satchels, packs, and belts. There is rope. And waxy paper that can be used to wrap food supplies.

❧ Weapons: There are weapons that can be found in places, but not many. The trolls were not a peaceful people but they settled most of their problems with simple, non-fatal brawling, rather than anything crueler, only fighting against outside attackers. The few weapons that can be found are very large and heavy, clearly meant for war. They're built for a people that averages 8-10 feet tall and only the strongest and largest among the squad will find them anything but unwieldy. However, there are a few "small" knives of crude metal that can be used as short swords, and metal shields probably used as bucklers, that would work as full shields for normal-sized people.

❧ Forest resources: The woods around Trollmarket are safe, especially if traversed during the day. They're full of potential food, for those that know what to look for. There are wild blueberries, raspberries, and huckleberries, and enough flat, dark rocks to dry fruit in the sun. At the edge of a nearby pond are cattails, with edible roots, and reeds and grasses that can be used for basket-making. Dandelions grow everywhere, with edible flowers and roots, and there are edible marigold flowers. There's ample firewood, pieces of flint (though it takes time to find them), and wild game like deer and rabbits. The trolls' cookware, cutlery, and knives can be used to cook and dress animals, but might be heavy to take along. Water can be found in the pond (though it'd need boiling), or in small, cleaner springs in the woods.

❧ Spells: Archivists will find that there are little springs in the woods that they can draw spells from. The mods will make up random spells for Archivist players that request one.

Comments

[hellbentley]

[The future looks...different, doesn't it? A future where they can just go where they want, do what they want. Together. They can have a future where they don't have to play it as close to the vest.]

[They can have a future after Aziraphale's touched his face like this, where he'd be able to do it again as often as both of them like. Where maybe he could touch Aziraphale's face, too. Maybe he could...]

[Oh. Oh no. Oh noooo.]

[He wants to touch his face.]

[He hasn't had the luxury of being able to think about that. About what they could do with unbridled freedom. Of what they could be. But here they are, a world away even. So far from anyone that tried to get between them. And even if they went back, the people that wanted to tear them apart are terrified of them. They're free to do what they want and Aziraphale is touching his face and now he doesn't have to quash feelings of wanting to do the same before they even fully form.]

[He reaches his hand up to gently brush them against the back of Aziraphale's hand, the one at his chin. It's something that can be passed off as just a reflex to being touched or an abortive appreciative gesture. His hand drops almost as quickly.]

[He says it ever so softly, voice just slightly strangled, but not so strangled it's super obvious.]

Yeah. I'll - I'll hold on to my list. For later.

[Fortunately, Aziraphale already tossed up a new subject to talk about. He pulls off the scarf and sighs at it. Wonders if there's a way to let it live on, even if it can't live on fashionably.]

Maybe I can wash it off and give it to someone doing...medical stuff. It'll still be unwearable and no good as a bandage but they can use it as a... thing. One of those bleeding things.

[He is not good at words sometimes.]

You know, they tie it around a limb when there's bleeding. Because mortals are so good at dying sometimes. Ties it off so they don't die.

[He means tourniquet.]

[oldbookshop]

[ Always been a funny old thing, human-ish corporations. Mostly-accurate ones. Parts in the right order, getting into the little routines of blinking, breathing, circulation. (Didn't strictly have to. Liked the novelty of it well enough.) Always so much going on with humans, even when they're sitting still.

Aziraphale is grateful for the overall very wise design choice to have the heart so firmly tucked away. Nice and quiet. It means that any time it's skipped a beat, he's been the only one to notice.

And in quarters these close, with another incidental (?) brush of fingers, that's really for the best. Fine enough thing it is to be flutterpated without it being obvious.

The subject change is saving lives today. ]

That sounds very... [ Oh, he's already called Crowley kind and decent in the past couple of hours. Now's probably a poor time to try his luck at "noble" or "valiant." No point adding to the stress when he knows that's what it would do.

But Aziraphale has clearly paused to find a more neutral word. ]

Practical, of you. As short as they are on supplies, it's a good idea.

[ Hm. He may be getting close to done with this cleanup. ]

I think you mean a tourniquet, by the way.

[ There's no more outdated term for tourniquet that he can try just to be irritating about it, off the top of his head. ]