INTO THE WOODS ※ GAME EVENT

[wildestmods]

INTO THE WOODS

The faerie faire goes on into the evening, the faire filled with the sounds of revelry. For those who've spent the day there, the cool evening air is welcome respite from the bright sun that's shined all day. Those who still have some faerie gold might even want to invest in a cloak if they haven't gotten one yet, because it may get chillier as night falls.

As evening descends and various floating flowers start to glow to provide light, the spring faeries start to bring out night-time merchandise and amusements, like brightly-colored phosphorescent flower jewelry. Fireflies are charmed to blink in different colors and magical fireworks paint the sky in vibrant light. They're quieter than normal fireworks, but there are still satisfying snaps and hisses.

It seems like it'll be a pleasant night at the fair and those only just arriving in the evening will find a charming scene opening up before them.

But one thing that isn't noticed as evening begins to fall is the way the winter faeries suddenly slink away into the rising dark. Or at least it isn't noticed until it's too late. Some of the summer faeries start to react to it with alarm.

"Where did they go? The winter faeries are supposed to provide security, they signed an agreement. Go tell Ponto and get some faeries with warding magic to shore up the wards." Faeries start flying with purpose to speak to others that need to be put on security. "We can handle it ourselves but we need to get enough people out to the borders."

"Should we disperse the faire?"

"No, there's no sign of any threats and if we re-ward it, they'll be safer here than people scattering in the woods at night. Even if we had the bad luck to be attacked before the wards are re-done we can defend them with our magic - and we're contracted to."

Unfortunately that bad luck hits too soon. While the faeries scramble to re-do the defense wards, an unearthly fog rolls in. Terrible screeches start to rend the air, sounding similar to the screams of foxes. Warning bells ring from warning wards placed in certain areas of the woods.

"Nightrenders!" someone calls out and people in the crowd start screaming, gathering their loved ones closer. Horrifying beings start to pour into the faire and the hand stamps of all the people who bought tickets ahead of time start to glow. Faeries rally around those people, casting powerful defensive spells. Due to the panic, several stalls start to go up in flames due to knocked over cooking fires. Fortunately the stalls are small enough for people to escape them easily and spread far enough apart that they can be avoided, but smoke joins the fog in the air.

If a faerie sees one of the squad of otherworlders, and their lack of glowing hand stamp they're quick to offer a warning. "You have to run! The people who bought tickets ahead of time entered into a magical agreement of protection. The warding takes time to charge. We can do nothing for you, without slow-charge wards we're not powerful enough to protect you. The Nightrenders will devour your brain, or your soul."

Apparently that little disclaimer about not being fully protected that some of them read while coming in (for those that had arrived earlier in the day) was more important than it seemed.

The faeries always point the same way, still trying to help the people without tickets. "To the north! There's a place in a canyon with a large, glowing crystal. It looks like an abandoned market and dwellings. You'll be safe there, the magic of the Heartstone will protect you."

USEFUL LINKS

Setting Background/FAQ | Major NPCs


NIGHTRENDERS

The beings known as Nightrenders start amassing on the faire. Their movements are quick but clumsy, as if every one of their movements is made up of a hundred janky, smaller fits and starts, like they're made of clockwork. The faerie magic summer faeries use seems to do no more than stagger them back or temporarily knock them over, but at least makes it clear to the squad that they at least can be knocked over and slowed down. At the very least it seems to take them some time to get off the ground and back to their feet.

Attacks

They attack anyone they see in different ways. Some they wound with massive claws. Or they squeeze someone's torso and nearly suffocate them to give them a chance at possibly chomping into the heads of their victims to get at the brains. Most dangerously of all, they breathe in with a loud sucking noise, clawed hands guiding the magic that lets them drawn out someone's soul to devour it. It looks like a small delicate thing, sometimes in the form of a glittering star or a flower, as its drawn out of the victim's mouth.

This process can fortunately be interrupted if the Nightrender is attacked. As long as the soul hasn't been sucked into their mouths, it goes back into the victim.

Cursed Aura

But the whole thing is complicated by the magical aura caused by the Nightrenders. When they draw close, everyone around them is choked with fear, grief, and dread. Some succumb to visions of their worse memories playing out in their heads over and over. Some might be able to still stagger away in this state, trying to see through the visions, especially if someone helps them along, but others will find it nearly impossible to do anything other than curl on the ground. It is unknown why some don't have the flashbacks or can power through them more than others, though it's thought that those that repress their bad memories or negative emotions struggle more.

Anyone that helps someone who's having visions may get a glimpse of their memories - and empathically feel a flash of the pain, fear, rage, or grief they felt during the memory. If two people try to help each other move forward when both are having visions, they may transmit glimpses back and forth.

Weaknesses

The Nightrenders cannot be destroyed, only knocked down, or slowed down. However, those with "holy" weapons, spells, or powers, or those who have weapons, spells, or powers that can hurt "ethereal" beings or evil spirits will find they can cause them enough pain that sometimes they run away. Spells and abilities that create magical manifestations of good will and happiness, as well as spells of light, or purification can also harm them and drive them away.

THE SISTERS

The Nightrenders don't speak, but some have the misfortune of hearing two voices echo out of the fog. The come in stereo, only just slightly out of sync.

"Chosen Ones, you must be so confused. You've become lost in the forest, and the Dark Lord's nightmares already pursue you. Fortunately for you, our mistress desires your company. You'll adore obeying her will. Don't run, embrace a better destiny."

Two woman in white masks and straw hats, with cloaks made from the feathers of ravens, come out of the fog, body language almost identical. No eyes can be seen through the eyeholes of their masks, just darkness.

They start attacking, and when they beset their victims they stop speaking, refusing to talk or answer questions, instead filling the air with wild, mocking laughter. One wields twin katanas, the other a kusarigama with a painful claw at the end of the chain that closes down when it hits something.

Nets

While they're extremely willing to injure the squad they seem to be trying to capture them instead of killing (albeit capturing them after they're maimed), occasionally tossing out nets of glowing silver of moonlight. Being caught in the nets renders someone paralyzed and weak, a deep cold settling into the marrow of their bones. Some may even hear the shrieks of dying loved ones, whether they've actually died in reality or not. The Sisters apparently have the strength to carry even the largest of the squad in the air and will attempt to fly away when someone is ensnared.

The nets are difficult to destroy, but can be with great force of some kind. It has to be aimed at the part closest to the Sisters' hands, because the force required to break the nets would also injure those trapped inside them. The cold and paralysis fades when the victims are free, but some of the rescued may feel weak and need help staying on their feet. Unfortunately, even when they're broken, the nets of moonlight seem to be something they can recreate within several minutes.

Smoke Monsters

For some, they don't attack directly. Instead, one of the sisters pulls out a pipe and smoke monsters pour out of it. They try to drag their victims closer to the sisters so they can be caught in their nets. Fortunately, they can be destroyed with enough force.

While the Sisters seem impossible to injure, they can at least be caused pain with extreme enough attacks, something that makes them teleport away before risking any further injury.

PROMPTS

a) RENT
Uh oh, a Nightrender has you. Either it's squeezing you so hard you're suffocating and about to chomp into some juicy brains, or it's in the process of sucking your soul out through your mouth. In either case, you're likely broadcasting visions of your worst memories in small flashes to whoever is near. You're in desperate need of rescue and the summer faeries can't help - their magic is all but useless on the Nightrenders if it didn't have time to build by a covenant. Only others that fell into the Wilderlands like you did can save you.

(Feel free to provide multiple memory options ala a memshare, but keep in mind they'd only be flashes instead of a full memory!)

b) NABBED
The Sisters have got you, their smoke monsters are trying to drag you away, or you're still trying to fight them to avoid being caught. It'll be a lot easier if you have help - otherwise you're outnumbered and possibly outclassed. The only way to stop them is fight back hard enough that they feel you're not worth the effort and teleport off.

c) RESCUE
Perhaps you're not affected by the Nightrenders or are just good at powering through the haze of painful magic they're inflicting on the area. Either way, you're out to help the people around you. Perhaps you run into another member of the otherworlder squad that needs saving - or maybe they join you to protect a third otherworlder, or a denizen of the Wilderlands that also forewent a ticket and is therefore at risk. Unlike many of the people from other universes, many of the denizens of the Wilderlands are powerless and thought they were in for a day and night of safe fun.

There are also other hazards to rescue people from. Maybe a small child has been separated from their parents and is disoriented by smoke, in need of rescued from some flaming tents. Or maybe an elderly person has fallen and is at risk of being trampled. There are lots of reasons people might need help, due to fires, panicked horses, collapsing tents, and panicking crowds.

d) RUN
It's time to run! Perhaps, after some screaming and confusion - and teleportation - you finally grab a buddy and bolt through the woods. You better run fast because the Nightrenders and the Sisters may give up chase at some point but it may take time and moving through difficult terrain in the fog to lose them. Perhaps you and a partner have to help a third, injured otherworlder because they're having trouble walking.

Better head north like the faeries said. The faeries were right that this Heartstone to the north may be your only hope - and you'll have to reach it despite the fading evening light, skies overcast with dark clouds, and fog.

It may be easier navigating in the dark with a partner or two.

e) WILDCARD
Maybe you decide to do none of the above. Go nuts!

OOC DETAILS
❧ Quest magic: Players can handwave that the quest bond magic is tugging the group northward to the safe place, with the mysterious Heartstone. They can also use the quest magic as an excuse for many different threads. As the group tries to run, their scattering movements will affect the magic and cause people to teleport at random, allowing for many different encounters with many other characters. This can explain why two characters that might otherwise stay together through the whole thing might get separated.

❧ Network: The network can now be used. Mirrors can and do float if someone is trying to talk through one and running, and can follow someone as they move, allowing people to communicate on the go or during action. Feel free to start using the network in parallel with the log events.

❧ NPCing: The mods won't be npcing but players are free to npc the actions of bystanders, the Nightrenders, and the Sisters. The Sisters won't speak, just continue laughing, and players can npc their specific attacks, capture attempts, and teleportation. Please just don't have them talk or godmode them dying - they're currently a little too sturdy for that. If you have a question about whether/how something will affect them feel free to ask the mods in the first comment below.

❧ Environment: Feel free to manipulate the environment. There are things left over from the faire people can work with like bow and arrow sets from the competition, horses (which can be temporarily stolen, though we'd like to limit any that are permanently stolen to the (1) horse another player already requested), and even explosive faerie fireworks (they're quieter than the normal thing but still create a big bang). Abandoned stalls also have weapons and supplies to grab as people run for it. If they didn't think to steal or buy useful things during the day, please limit this to only grabbing one or two items as they run, like a cloak or sword. They won't have time to loot for more.

❧ Experimentation: We'd like to encourage people to experiment! Obviously ask other players if they're down first, but it could be fun to do something other than 2 person threads, like maybe 2 PCs banding to rescuing a 3rd. Players are also encouraged to set limitations if they think it'd be more interesting, like locking their final escape prompt from the faire grounds to a single thread partner and playing out the drama of a full escape.

[OOC: Plot is visible so people can see and start plotting together but not open until Nov. 1. The mods will enable comments then.]

Comments

[unsealthecatbox]

Six people, plus Cammie and Ange. A group of eight in total definitely is bound to get attention -- and although a group of seven is still sizable, well, if one of them is directing the Nightrenders in another direction...perhaps there's a chance after all.

"Because you'll have to take them there"

At least Ange had the courtesy of giving some warning, even if it was vague. Usually she'd have just started running without a word!

[tr1xx]

She shoos the people out into the open and slips back out herself, at which point she finally sees the Nightrender herself and swallows, hard.

"I'll have to— wait, what about you? What are you gonna do?"

She's a very clever girl, Cammie, but sometimes a tiny bit slow on the uptake and the rescued people are already getting a little restless, which doesn't help. Neither does her heart pounding thinking about what'll happen if a Nightrender gets closer.

[myagents]

Price raises his hands, a faint smile on his face. Connecticut, despite being a traitor, is the one he has been able to wrap around his finger more easily, among all the other agents he saw.

She's giving him back the sense of control that he's been longing for ever since his arrest, and somehow he feels calm again. Calm like he would be if Project Freelancer was back.

"We are sorry it had to come to this."

He speaks in the fourth person, of course he does. Project Freelancer is an entity, and he aims to embody it rather than to be a single person. Merging with the steady cold tone that succeeds at provoking or appeasing the agents at will, that is what makes him feel like coming home.

"No matter what side you are on, you are always a valuable collaborator. It has been an honour working with you."

[liesdontfindyou]

"Shut up. Shut up."

She hates how much she's let him get under her skin so far, hates it. She shouldn't be this vulnerable when she knows his tricks and games. She shouldn't have even taken such a hit from the memory, she's over it, she's past caring that Tex threw two tomahawks into her torso with such force it threw her against a wall. She's not angry at Tex.

Except she's not over it, is she. Not the dying part. She grits her teeth, slams the knife blade-down into the dirt as she tries to get her feet under her. She can't stay down, Price or no Price.

"I died, and then I woke up afterwards; nothing had to come to that."

The memory flashes in pieces again, but this time it drags more from under the surface—much more recent memories, less intense but fresher. Putting her armour back on for the first time and feeling panic, freaking out so badly a young, dark-skinned man covered in scars has to pry apart the chest plate to touch her and turn her emotions off.

Dying, as it turns out, can leave quite the impression on a person.

[liesdontfindyou]

Oh, goody. Because why wouldn't both sets of monsters fuck with your head?

[ Yeah, she's not a big fan of the idea either. She's had more than enough of that kind of thing in Svelte and certainly hasn't enjoyed her taste of it tonight. She's relived her own death enough in her own head without having it dragged back up full force by some monster the way it was, earlier.

She turns enough to keep her eye on their 6'o'clock. At least if she sees the women come up on them from there, she can make the call for them to try and bolt.

She wishes she'd at least had the foresight to pick up a ranged weapon, in the chaos if not during the day. The dagger in her hand is feeling more and more useless of a choice by the second. ]

[myagents]

"You...Woke up?" Price is confused "What happened?"

He witnesses the memory warp into this new scenario, and he doesn't recognize the circumstances. He wants to understand, but he will wait before asking specific questions.

[liesdontfindyou]

"Like here, but not. I died, then I woke up somewhere else knowing I'd died and—" She grits her teeth, breathes. Don't tell him too much. Don't give him enough to work with. Don't.

Dying and waking up in a freaky neon city that was apparently a simulation was disorienting. Dying and waking up after at all, having to deal with knowing the agony and coldness of death only to go on living, was downright traumatic.

[myagents]

While looking in her eyes, he breathes deliberately slowly. It shall help her adjust to his pace and calm down slightly.

"You were brought in a different dimension?"

He's not asking with the purpose of hurting. Just his genuine curiosity, urging him to dig deeper.

[poor_unlucky_girl]

"Oh, yes, the Bucket Knight. He loses his head very often, one time I found it on a chair begging me to put it back on his body."

Jennifer nods solemnly.

"He gives very good advice, too, but I doubt he's nearby."

[liesdontfindyou]

She breaks the eye contact almost as soon as he makes it and just nods, not daring to risk starting to say more. There's too much about Svelte he could use to hurt her, too much he could poke and prod at and get under her skin. Things that are too important, things she doesn't want him to get his fingers in.

[myagents]

He knows that he can't do much to reassure her, much less now that she's not cooperative. He decides that focusing on the now is the most beneficial course of action.

"Do you believe there could be a reason why we are here?" before she can answer, he specifies "I do not mean us from Project Freelancer, rather everyone in this dimension."

He never really understood why he was brought on the Rig. His agents, yes, he could understand: they were fighters. Maybe Jorgmund was interested in his intelligence and thought it could be a valuable asset for their endeavours, it would make sense, but there is still a possibility that it wasn't just their doing, that there might be something else. If so, it could be an explanation for why they are here, in this seemingly unrelated place.

[rambles_on]

They carefully work together to unload the woman and pass her to her family.

Dean guesses he probably isn't getting his flannel back.

He hesitates before answering Dan, knowing that he is compromised as hell and has the ever-rising desire to get the hell out of here, but there are people who still need help and Dean can't walk away from them.

"I'll stick around, but we could probably do more if we split up."

The least he can do is get away from Dan until he has time to figure out what this all means and how the hell he feels about it.

[hasapoint]

Several different muscles protest the unusual amount of stretching and pulling he's been asking of them. Need clamps down on each twinge, not allowing the tissues to tear. This is why she hasn't given Raistlin the full measure of physical ability she's capable of lending. Without time to study his body and figure out a more comprehensive plan for the spell, he could hurt himself.

When the trapped woman appears Need takes this opportunity to split her focus, watching the withering visual effect on the woman - it reminds her of a lot of things she'll want to try to remember in more detail, but it's also a fascinating and hilarious reflection of the dislike she feels coming off them both - but also getting her first good look at the face of the young mage who's insisting on becoming her bearer. The lighting's bad, but what she gets does reinforce her idea that he's some kind of Changechild. She'll have to ask, maybe his homeland has people with metallic skin and... keyhole? pupils without magical alteration.

...Living people probably don't generally see something as gruesome as a person falling to decay like this and go so quickly to morbid amusement. Ah, well. Need tries to keep her perspective human, but she knows that she only seems to feel rage and love very strongly anymore, and gets any other strong feelings from the emotions radiating off of people.

Speaking of. She would've been content to let Raistlin leave at this point, but she feels a bow wave of misery boiling rapidly in their direction. Need roars, :WAIT! GET DOWN!:, fires a mental compulsion at the cook, who squeaks as she goes to her knees, and constructs the single shield she still has in her repertoire, bubbling it up over the three humans and herself before another Nightrender comes in at a jerky trot. Lightly scorched by a faerie's defensive spells, it's here looking for less well guarded prey. It pauses, looking left and right with its great clawed hands flexing.

:Quiet. No talking, don't move. You're not invisible, just less noticeable,: Need says in her harsh metal-on-metal voice, and the two women flinch to hear her. The baby is much too young to understand, and the simple compulsions she can make through deliberately targeted Mindspeech just aren't that strong. His tiny face has screwed up.

She wonders if she can kill the awkward construct-thing that she still insists on calling a walking dyrstaff. In the normal course of things? Absolutely. Now? Well, she can calculate several ways to close the distance and attack it using Raistlin's body - the joints seem like a good bet - but that might not work, and also he might fight her and slow everything down. :Other ideas, boy? Getting one of the fairies over here would help. They're too shielded for me to contact myself.:

[hallelujahjunction]

Dan makes sure that the family is ready to take the woman back, that they know what direction they're going and what injuries to look out for, then gives Dean a nod.

"Holler if you need the cavalry." He gets up on the horse. He's certain he'll be seeing Dean again soon.

Re: II

[millenyal_pink]

Elle almost immediately realizes that putting herself in the middle of these things maybe wasn't her best idea. She's committed now, so she's just going to have to figure it out.

Then Ace pulls a stupidly flashy move and Elle remembers that yeah, he's a Silver Fang Ahroun. It works, though, and that's really all that matters at the moment.

His posture totally changes once he reaches her, which is a bit concerning, but she's honestly too busy trying to rip one of these guys' arm off with her teeth to pay much attention.

Fuck that tastes absolutely awful. The taste and stench of death begins to overwhelm her. These thing are the worst.

Elle can hear a couple of them that have managed to stand back up approaching her from behind.

She decides: fuck it, this thing's arm is clearly not coming off, but she does have a pretty good grip. She'll just swing it around and use it to fuck up its friends. How's that for resourcefulness, asshole?

She's getting really fucking annoyed with how resistant these stupid things are to literally any type of damage that she can do.

[oldbookshop]

[ Another day, another viable defense for making very distinctive fashion choices. Although he didn't choose or bother with changing his corporation's hair color and the frying pan is more of a weapon, so maybe fashion isn't quite the right word. Thoughts for later.

That odd pull to head in one particular direction hasn't gotten any more or less intense, which he expects means it stands to reason that it won't go anywhere if he's a bit of a straggler. The reasons to help and the reasoning that there's no real reason not to help really outweigh any hypothetical... reasons... not to help.

So here Aziraphale lingers, far more disheveled than he'd normally allow, certainly more tired than he's ever allowed, but equally uninjured for his part. Given that there are still very clearly things he can do, he'd like to think lingering was the right choice. Case in point: this.

So more another day, another very good reason to (even temporarily) ditch a weapon and hurry towards a different way to contribute. He sort of prefers it that way. ]

Yes, I've got him. Whenever you're ready.

[ Poor thing. He's awfully young.

Well.

Most of the people Aziraphale's met here have seemed awfully young, if he thinks about it. He's opting not to do that yet, given the urgency at hand. ]

[liesdontfindyou]

"The whispers... said something about the Green."

She gets to her feet, finally. Pushes herself up. It's harder than it should be, the despair is still settled deep in her bones, but staying down won't help. Not moving won't help.

"Saving the Green. Giving us what we need to do it. This is something with a purpose."

Not like Svelte. She's sure the developers there would claim there was a purpose, she's sure they believed there was; they never did work out what the idea behind the simulation was, her and Coda. They had their theories, but how could they know for sure?

The memories flash to a darkened building, in what looks like an IKEA-like furniture store. No lights are on. CT is on the floor, ankle bruising and throat scratched, and that dark-skinned man is leaning against a display nearby with his face bleeding. There's a tiny, tiny child, no more than a foot and a half tall, standing at her knee. A person not just dressed in all white, but with totally white-toned skin and hair, hair that looks at the ends like fiber optic cables, runs around the corner to find them all. CT flashes with both panic and relief.

She buries those feelings now, in the present, and curses that the flash has happened at all. She needs to move, get far enough away from the creatures that Price won't keep seeing these things.

[darvit]

O...kay. There's a lot to unpack there. Holly's not sure she wants to, though.

"Probably not. This place seems very selective about who it's kidnapped."

Let's go with that.

[konman]

[He manages to lift the beam, quite the feat without superstrength and holds it high enough and steady enough for Aziraphale to safely pull the guy out.]

Now!

[furtitude]

"Okay, then we'll head north. And maybe my dad will look that way, too."

He sticks close because...the dude has magic. And he might see more bad memories.

But also the dude looks like a light breeze would bowl him over and he might need help, too.

"Thank you, by the way. For helping me. Other than my crew, I come from a very everyone's-out-for-themselves kind of universe."

Re: Interstellar Overdrive

[furtitude]

He thinks hard and peeks around a stall to look down one of the paths to try to find a familiar landmark. He sees the jousting field.

Then he points to where the sun set in relation to it.

"It set that way."

He points at it with his left arm straightened, and holds out his right arm at a right angle, also straight.

"Okay, so that's north."

He'll turn out to be right. He's got good a good memory.

[furtitude]

Little Cato actually smiles, even despite having been scared for his dad and having been hit

He kind of did already make friends, didn't he? That's kind of new and weird - he hasn't really been around many other people his age - and the only two since he was busted out of captivity are gone now.

It feels kind of nice, even with how bad their situation is.

He turns to the two of them.

"Thank you. For helping me out of there and helping me find my dad."

He grabs his dad's hand.

"But I think that was Elle for 'we need to book it.' C'mon, dad, we need to go. We're safer making our way there in a group."

[cookiehusband]

With a little friendly wave to both Catra and Elle, repeating their names so they stick in the old Mind Palace, Gary nods. "Good call. Let's get out of here before one of those dangerous ladies realizes she wants a piece of all this." He gestures an appropriately silly amount to his dad bod, then grabs little Cato's hand to run through the deep dark forest.

Re: Bitchin' Camero (I've decided I'm naming all my Dean threads after rock songs)

[talk_radio]

"♪Jimmy Dean, James Dean♪" Bumblebee riffs a bit as he starts heading north. He's not sure where the signal is coming from either, but he's not complaining.

"My name's Bumblebee. I'm from space...the final frontier."

Re: Bitchin' Camero

[rambles_on]

Dean laughs as they drive away from the monsters.

"They got Camaro's in space? Guess aliens get to have taste, too.

"Hey, when we get where you're going, I can check out your undercarriage if you'd like. I don't know how many of those things you've run over but this ain't exactly ideal terrain and you don't wanna be driving around if something down there got dented or misaligned."

This was a totally selfless offer and not at all Dean wanting to get his hands on a Camaro. He can't wait to tell Bobby-

Except Dad and Bobby ain't on speaking terms anymore, so Dean probably won't be telling him about anything anytime soon.

He shakes off the thought by trying to imagine what it would be like to actually be able to drive 'Bumblebee'. He itches with the need to see how this beauty handles. He knows its horsepower isn't anything compared to Baby, and the Impala is sexier, of course, but Dean can still appreciate a good ride when he sees one.