░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ɱ α ʈ ϲ н í ʈ є ɱ í η _________JOURNAL CONTENTS
page 2 _________※ a bad wind [entry] _________※ such terrifying things [prp] _________※ into the abyss [prp] _________※ some small blessing [solo] _________※ the creature [solo] _________※ monsters? [event solo] _________※ barter and haggle [event solo] _________※ in plain view of the beast [growth solo] _________※ never quite tame [prp] _________※ from the jungles dark and deep [prp] _________※ at large [event battle] _________※ mysterious wreckage [event solo] _________※ who hides in the flowers [prp]
page 3 _________※ not far off [prp] _________※ not as foreign [solo] _________※ a shortcut [prp]
Posted: Wed Aug 26, 2015 10:01 am
░░ ENTRY ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ _________A BAD WIND
_________Location: Yael
The night swelled up into a still and windless dawn. To Matchitemin it seemed that the day was reluctant to arrive; the sun was crawling and the shadows sat long and sullen, the birds were quiet and the beasts moved low on their bellies if they moved at all. He told his aunt of this as they sat together for their morning meal, and her face furrowed with grave concern.
“Something bad is coming to us.” He muttered into his broth. “Even the light is loath to show it.”
She heaved a ragged sigh, but said nothing. They rarely spoke.
Not many people spoke to Matchitemin. He had been born in a bad wind – the worst storm remembered by the village. No less than eight had perished that day, including his own mother, father, and midwife. All three of them had been crushed under the weight of their own roof, and only the newborn was retrieved alive when the storm had subsided enough to look for survivors. The child was a dark mark, they decided. They had wronged the Gods and received a cursed orphan as the harsh reminder of their trespass.
Despite her fear of the curse, his aunt had taken him in. She had no choice; the Gods did not take kindly to those who turned their backs and forgot their own kin.
She cared for him, and the others let him be. He was often the first to bring bad and ominous news, and for that he held among them a fearful but deep-rooted respect.
* * *
When he came to the shore the mist was still thick, and you could not see very far out into the water. He crouched there and stared into the whiteness. The dread wrapped right about his chest. He muttered wordless things under his breath and hung his head.
The sound of a thousand creaking planks began to swell up somewhere in the immeasurable distance before him. He let out a strangled gasp.
Minutes, long, drawing minutes later – maybe hours, maybe days, maybe years – the terrifying prow of a ship materialized in the mist.
His blood ran cold as cave-water.
* * *
“Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
He ran howling, braided dark hair whipping behind him as he scrambled towards the village. You might have thought he had been hurt or maimed, or that some feral, tooth-filled beast was charging on his tail. He would have agreed with this description of the situation.
“Strangers!” He howled at the first person he saw.
“Strangers are coming!” To the second.
“Strangers are coming from the sea! Strangers are coming from the sea!”
There were panicked screams and shouts and questions. People dropped what they were doing; some ran to the shore and some ran towards their houses. The single prow had been replaced with three, and Matchitemin was too frightened to stop.
He ran through the village, pushing and shoving past the nervous throng. He ran past his aunt’s house. He ran past the village boundaries, fleering over stones and roots and tricking wet waterfalls, and trees and caves and a hundred unfamiliar landmarks he didn’t know where he was he didn’t know where he was going his heart was beating so fast he thought his ribcage might burst open and the only thing that felt safe or secure was some nameless hidden destination somewhere far ahead of him and the only thing he knew to do was to run run run run run run run –
* * *
He scared birds from their nests and beasts from their burrows, moving slow now and long out of breath. It was hot now and humid, and when he fell from a root tangled around his ankle he did not stand back up.
He lay in strangling, suffocating darkness.
* * *
“Hey, kid. Kid. What’s wrong with you?”
Someone was shaking him. Her voice sounded… strange. Her hand was cool and clammy on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked at the rock he was lying on.
“You awake? You need some water, or… something? I’ve got some food, I mean think it’s food. I don’t know what you’re supposed to eat here.”
She laughed a nervous laugh. He lifted his head to look at her, and his glowing eyes went wide with bottomless fear.
She was a Stranger, and to him she looked more terrifying than anything he could have imagined. She was a Wild Thing, some sort of huge woman-beast with yellow-green skin and stripes, glassy black eyes and big prongs like horns that shot out of her head. She wore strange ornamented clothing with colors so bright they almost strained his weaker eyes, and held in her hand a meanly-decorated blade. She looked as if she was dressed for pitched battle, and he thought perhaps he even saw some blood dried onto the edges of her alien dress.
He gaped. She reached out to him again, her black eyes unreadable.
“Here, kid, I’ll help you up, I just –“
“Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!” He howled again, lizards and critters and bugs bursting into panic around them. He scrambled to his feet, scraping knees and shins and palms as he did, and launched himself away from her at a staggering lope.
Strangers had come!
He ran. He fell. He stood and ran faster.
Strangers!
Strangers!
Wild-beast-women-warriors from the sea!
To the jungle! To the deep, deep jungle! To the trees rocks rivers caves cavescavescaves!
* * *
(this part added to meet solo reqs)
He ran like he had never run before.
He was tired, and breathless, and thirsty. His feet were bleeding -- he left bloodied footsteps on the rocks he scrambled over. He fell countless times, cutting up his palms, his elbows, almost every bit of exposed skin that he had. Leaves tangled in his lavender hair, scratching at his neck and back.
He didn’t care. He had to get away.
Finally, he glimpsed the opening of a cave. It was a frightening, dark maw… but to Matchitemin it looked practically homely. The fear of darkness and deep rivers was nothing compared to the fear of strangers. Almost at the end of his strength now, he staggered in and fell onto the rough, stone-littered floor. Then, thus crumbled up and near-lifeless, he lay, glowing eyes wide open, and shivered.
Why, why had this evil come to his home?
[words : 1048 (original 90cool]
Stereochrome
Lucky Wrangler
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Stereochrome
Lucky Wrangler
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Posted: Fri Oct 23, 2015 7:30 am
░░ PRP ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ _________SUCH TERRIFYING THINGS
Matchitemin came across Taijana just as she was wondering how to get water from a deep crevasse. Having not seen any other Yaeli in a while, Match made the foolhardy decision to try and impress her by climbing into the crevasse to fill her pail. This attempt soon turned into a disaster, with both of them falling deep underground and almost getting swept away by the current. Thanks to some quick thinking from both of them, they managed to make it out alive!
_________[ complete ]
Stereochrome
Lucky Wrangler
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Stereochrome
Lucky Wrangler
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Posted: Fri Oct 30, 2015 7:35 am
░░ SOLO ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ _________SOME SMALL BLESSING
_________Location: Yael
He was exhausted.
His bare feet were striped with cuts and lacerations after weeks of staggering through the jungle, and his dark purple hair was matted with twigs and leaves from the nights he had spent curled between tree-roots. His lips were cracked, his fingers were wrinkled from constant exposure to moisture, and his stomach was dull with hunger.
He looked like hell, all in all. But… he was starting to feel better.
There was something soothing about the jungle. He spent days without seeing anyone – no Yaeli, and certainly no strangers. His only company was that of the trees and the rocks and the animals, and the ever-familiar sound of water running close underground. He felt at peace here, despite his discomfort. This was his land, and this was where he belonged. Maybe… maybe he should have come here sooner, rather than living out his life in the village.
In the village, he was the ‘cursed child’. People hushed when he approached. Other children rarely played with him when he was younger, and continued to avoid him as they grew. Even his aunt was full of sad, slow sighs in his presence – everyone seemed to think that he would bring them ill tidings (and often he did, being the only one in the village who did not have much to lose by being the bearer of bad news). But that was life among other people, amongst sensitive, nervous villagers who struggled to eke out a life among the rocks, rough shores and constantly-encroaching jungle.
But out here? Out here his curse was null. He could not bring anyone misfortune, because the trees and rocks were heedless to that sort of thing.
He was just himself – Matchitemin. A bad wind with nothing to blow at.
Even his exhaustion, at some point, began to feel like a balm. He was simply too tired to worry about the terrors that had plagued him before. Shapes in the fog ceased to have the appearance of warrior-women; they were just shapes now, more reaches of jungle to trudge through on a search for… what, exactly?
He wasn’t sure what he wanted. He wanted rest and food and safety, but he had passed the fringes of many villages and had not felt any pull to sleep inside a hut or keep begging for bread. He wanted somewhere that was his own, just his – somewhere out in the jungle, where he could live on his own terms and maybe make peace with the gods. And he could do it, he thought, if he worked hard at it. The jungle was dangerous, but maybe not as dangerous as some liked to think. It was full of living things, after all. Surely, all one had to do was find a spot where they could fit, and –
He fell downwards with a cracking yelp, rough rock grazing his side. Then he was submerged in water, cold and pitch-black and bubbling around him.
Muscles burning, he fought for the surface. He broke through and breathed air, but he could see nothing – absolutely nothing, not even the chasm he had so carelessly fallen through in his tired stupor. A strong current was pushing him, he thought, along a cave-passage. It must have been fairly wide because he had not yet been able to touch the sides, even though he had been flailing his arms around and trying to grab for something solid. There was nothing – just cold water.
Maybe he had overestimated his abilities a bit. Maybe the jungle would eat him whole, pull him down into its dark belly in a cold current just like this.
Or maybe not. Why give up now? He relaxed, streamlining his body so that he was swimming along with the current rather than simply wallowing around in it. He moved faster, and was able to control his breathing better. It was some small blessing that this channel was not entirely submerged, and that there was a sizeable pocket of air overhead. Perhaps he had more luck coming? After all this misfortune, he thought perhaps the gods had decided to favor him a short while.
He might have been right about that. After swimming a while, he began to notice outlines of light on the rocks and the water. These grew brighter, until the shape of the whole passage was illuminated – and then he was pushed, in a slowing current, out into a wide, almost circular pool.
He swam the rest of the way to a nearby bank, and sprawled out on the ground with heaving breaths.
* * *
When he had regained some of his strength, he sat up and looked around to regain his bearings. He was underground still, but not too far down – this round cavern had an oculus abovehead that opened up onto the surface, and he could see clinging roots and tree-branches peeking through the gap. Below, the water was relatively shallow in places, deep only where it was joined by the channel that had brought him here. A few small channels flowed out from here too, disappearing into fissures in the cavern wall, but... for the most part it was blissfully still here. Beautiful, almost.
His eyes were soon drawn to things more practical, however. By the shore where he had landed he spotted the thick tendrils of a particular river-weed he knew to be edible. It was not exactly delicious, but… the taste was not offensive, more bland than anything. It would do well to fill his stomach. He moved towards the weeds on all fours and pulled some out onto the bank, seeking out the bulbous pods that could be eaten. The green outside was tough, but he tore through it with his teeth and ate plenty.
Then he sat still and listened to the quiet – the rocks, the water, the slackening heave of his breath. Then a soft wind picked up on the surface, and as it passed the oculus of the cave it made a low, thrumming whistle that filled the entire cave.
He let his shoulders drop and loosen. He felt hidden here, and safe. Maybe he’d stay a while? There was food and good water, and he rested now on a rare patch of soft sand. It felt right, this place. He lay down on his side and fell asleep before he could properly close his eyes.
[words: 1065]
Posted: Wed Dec 16, 2015 8:18 am
░░ SOLO ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ _________THE CREATURE
_________Location: Yael
It didn’t take Matchitemin very long to start feeling at home in his tranquil cavern. The prentice didn’t need much -- the cave itself was a shelter from the elements, and the pool of water gave him something to drink and wash in.
The few other necessities were easy enough to come by. The morning after he woke from his sleep, he found a narrow passage that took him up to the surface, where he was able to gather some food and palm fronds with which to make bedding. Later he climbed up again to gather firewood, and by the time the next night came around he had himself a relatively cozy setup; a crackling fire filled with roasting nuts, a cushy little nest, and that ever-present whistle of the wind across the top opening of the cave.
What next, he wondered?
He had not run into any more monster-women. He might have hoped that they left in their ship, but… an ill feeling told him that was not the case. Still, they did not seem to be running rampant. In all the villages he’d passed though, there had been only whispers of them, no actual sights. It seemed that he was one of the few to have actually seen such a foreigner, and he often had rapt audiences when he described exactly what a horrifying experience it had been.
Nonetheless, havoc had not broken loose yet. Life in Yael went on as before.
He considered returning home, but again that ill feeling turned his thoughts away from it. That was where the ship had landed. If the monsters remained on the island, it was there where they would stay, no doubt.
Besides, even if his village was as sleepy and peaceful as it had been the night before the Arrival, what need had he to return to it? He had only stayed there because it offered some stability, but wasn’t he old enough now to push aside comforts of that sort? He hadn’t been close to anyone there, not even his aunt. He’d known their names, of course, he’d known where to find their homes if he was told to send a message or deliver some things, but… he didn’t exactly crave their companionship, their superstitious chatter and gossiping tongues.
No, he was fine here. This was his own home -- a cavern all to himself, solid walls to protect him and the open oculus above to let him keep an eye on things. He felt safe here, but not bored. There was plenty to do in gathering food and ensuring his survival. Tomorrow, maybe he would wave some palm fronds to build himself a proper sleeping-pad. Or maybe he would try to fashion a trap for fishing in the depths of the pool, where he could see the glimmering backs of many fish. He had time for all that. Time to think.
Time to rest, at least. His flight through the jungle had left him in rough shape. His feet and hands had been cut against countless rocks, and the shock of seeing strangers still gave him nightmares when he slept.
He could recover here. He was alone. He was at peace.
* * *
He was wrong. About one thing, at least.
He was not alone.
On the second day, as he was weaving palm fronds the way his aunt had shown him, he saw some movement at the edges of his eye. He looked up and saw nothing, and returned to his work… but time and time again this happened, until he decided to stay stock-still with his head up to catch the culprit he knew was around.
Something long and coloured slipped out of a small crack. It was barely visible at first, just a spade-shaped head with three shining eyes. But when it spotted no motion, not even from the earthling with his noisy palm fronds, it emerged further -- sleek and serpentine, almost glassy in appearance.
A keldari.
Matchitemin watched as the animal slid from the crack in the cave wall, over the sandy bank, through the weedy water-edge and into the pool. With a few flicks of its long tail, it disappeared into the depths.
Where was it going, he wondered? Most of the pool was fairly shallow; he could either wade in it or make a brief dive to get to the bottom. But on the opposite side of the cavern from where he had set up his little camp, the water hit the cave-wall without any sandbank between them. There, he suspected, the water was much deeper. That was how the pool was kept full -- there were some submerged water-channels there. He was fairly certain that that was how he had come to be spit out into the cavern. He couldn’t be sure because he was quite disoriented at the time, but it seemed like the most reasonable option.
Did the keldari use the channels to travel around and get food?
He got back to his weaving. Sometime later there was another serpentine glimmer as the keldari returned to it’s burrow.
* * *
That night he had the fire going again. He sat on his new palm-frond mat and stared into the flames. He wished the keldari was not so shy. He wanted to see it; they were such pretty things, those crystalline serpents. He wondered what they felt like to the touch.
He thought he was still imagining things, then, when he glimpsed that spade-shaped head on the other side of the flames.
But no -- no, there it was, out in the open, staring at the fire just as he was. He stayed still, and so did it. But finally his curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to get closer; he got into a crouch and took a step towards the creature.
Immediately, the keldari stiffened. It’s tail began to shake, omitting a crystalline rattle. Matchitemin knew what this meant -- the hunters in the village had often warned the kids about the keldari’s poison, and how it would rattle it’s tail when it meant to strike.
Very quickly, he sat back down. He had no interest in being poisoned, not when he was out and alone in the middle of the jungle.
Having repelled what it perceived as a threat, the keldari shot away across the sand.
* * *
With time, however, the thing began to get accustomed to him -- and he to it. He would catch it’s crystalline glimmer several times a day, and always stop what he was doing to watch. It was a such a pretty thing, and… after a while, he began to feel grateful for it’s presence.
Life in the company of an animal, even a wild animal that cared very little about him, seemed to him to be considerably more pleasant than life amongst other earthlings (or far worse still, life amongst strange bug-women). Back in the village, people had given him strange looks, people had avoided talking to him if they could get away with it. And now that he lived out here, all by himself, with his hair tangled and his hands scratched up… well, no doubt people would find him even stranger than before. He could already imagine the hushed whispers, the guarded stares…
But the keldari didn’t care. Animals didn’t care about him being normal or not. Animals didn’t care about curses.
What use had he for other people, then? He’d spend his time out here with the animals, he decided. He had a feeling that they might make better friends.
[ words : 1256 ]
Stereochrome
Lucky Wrangler
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Stereochrome
Lucky Wrangler
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Posted: Wed Dec 23, 2015 7:59 am
░░ EVENT SOLO ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ _________MONSTERS?
Suhuba
With the recently discovered Yaeli, the land of Tendaji has been abuzz with talk and gossip about their new neighbors. They're odd, they're strange and skittish, their eyes glow - but that can't possibly be true most say - the word on the street is that they're starting to leave their island. Those that had met the Yaeli know that it's an odd thing to hear. They were terrified of the outsiders, why would they leave their safe villages...
Rumors are filling the toxic island where the Alkidikes extremists were banished along with the Matron. Rumors of monsters clawing their way out of the earth with oil black skin and glowing evil eyes that are even weirder than the strange monsters that landed upon their shores just one year ago. The Yaeli say that their gaze can steal the soul of any person dumb enough to get too close and they're vicious beings trying to take their children.
These rumors have reached the main land as well, mostly through the few Yaeli that have decided they would rather face the scary but similar earthling races than to have to find out what the terrifying monsters want with them and their land.
Is there any truth to these rumors or are the Yaelians seeing things?
_________Location: Yael
Given his age and relative inexperience, Matchitemin had made a decent living out in the wilderness. But surviving was one thing, and being comfortable was another… he certainly didn’t have access to some of the simple luxuries he had taken for granted when he lived with his aunt.
His little cavern campsite now included a lightweight lean-to with a raised floor, a mat of woven palm fronds and a stone firepit. This set-up, together with the natural protection of the cave, sheltered him from some of the extremes of living outdoors. The raised floor kept him dry when the water level in the cavern rose after a strong rain, the fire kept him warm and the sloping roof trapped some of the heat beneath it, so that he might continue being warm as he slept. It was downright cozy, on some evenings… but there were some things he sorely missed.
A real blanket would be nice, for one, to replace the one he had fashioned out of woven palm fronds (which wasn’t exactly as soft and comfy as he would have liked). And a cushion, while he was wishing. But the most important thing was for him to get some sort of waterskin, so that he could go out foraging without worrying about having to find water (a tricky task on Yael, since much of the freshwater was trapped underground).
So, with that in mind, he set out to find a town that he could trade in. He had seen some signs of a trail left by earthlings, and he followed this with the thought that it would lead him to a settlement.
* * *
His suspicions had been right. After following the trail a while, he came to a fairly large village. It was large enough, he supposed, to see a fair amount of strange visitors, for he did not get too cold a welcome (as one might in a very small and closed-off settlement). After just a few glances at his somewhat ragged appearance (and his youth), the locals accepted him as a travelling trader of sorts. He was, after all, carrying some foraged nuts and medicinal tree-bark with him, and did not appear to be armed.
After asking a shy girl for directions, he found the hut that served the village as a sort of general store. He stepped inside, meaning to offer up his goods to the proprietor, but was somewhat startled to find quite a group gathered inside.
“What do you mean Inka is leaving?! Where is she going? Pajore?”
Three men were gathered around the merchant, a stern-looking woman with a knowing look on her face. She shook her head at their question.
“No! And that’s the thing everyone’s talking about! She’s not just going to the city. She’s leaving. She’s leaving Yael!”
The look of shock on the men’s faces mirrored Matchitemin’s reaction. He didn’t know who this ‘Inka’ girl was, but even then, he couldn’t imagine anyone leaving Yael.
“Why! In the name of the gods, why!” Again, one of the men asked the same question he was thinking.
The merchant lowered her voice to reply.
“It’s because of the monsters. Haven’t you heard? People have been seeing things in the jungle, terrifying things. Big, cruel monsters with black skin and evil eyes. They are creeping right up from under the ground! They haven’t dared come into the towns yet, some say, but if you go out into the jungle you’ll meet one and it will swallow your soul!”
The men gasped. Well, two of them gasped, and the third shook his head.
“Nonsense. Who ever heard of such a thing? If these monsters are real, why haven’t we seen them before?”
“Maybe the strangers brought them.” Another man guessed. This seemed to quieten the third, for it was a reasonable theory. If the monsters had come with the strangers, then of course they would not have been seen until now.
The men left whispering amongst themselves, and the merchant’s attention was turned to Matchitemin.
“Hey, kid. What do you need?”
Matchitemin, who was already creating up visions of evil black monsters slinking around his camp, snapped out of his reverie and looked at the goods he had brought.
“Can I trade these for some things?” He asked, his voice cracked from lack of use. “A waterskin. And a blanket.”
He dropped off the nuts and bark on her counter. She took some time studying the bark, then nodded. “This isn’t bad. I’ll give you what you want for this. And if you need other supplies, bring me more of this stuff. Or local healer uses it to brew a calming concoction, and with all this stuff about monsters and strangers and Yaeli going off to the sea… people are going to need it.”
* * *
That night, Matchitemin felt quite grateful for his blanket. It was a silly thing, he knew -- a blanket would not protect him from monsters or even the green giant strangers. But when he started having visions of both swarming him in the midst of the jungle, pulling the blanket over his head was all it took to make him feel just that little bit safer.
[words: 865]
Posted: Sun Feb 14, 2016 9:05 am
░░ EVENT SOLO ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ _________BARTER AND HAGGLE
Quote:
Can be used toward Solo or RP req
Lately, the local market places have been filled with new traders offering their wares. It seem as if many across the land are trying their hand at selling clothing, weapons, and trinkets. With so many new faces, now is the best time to go to the market and barter for the best prices.
So go ahead and grab your goods or grab your gold and take a shot at bartering.
_________Location: Yael
These days, just about the only time Matchitemin ever saw other earthlings was when he ventured into town to trade.
In fact, he had become a bit of a ‘character’ in the villages that surrounded his jungle hideout. They knew his name now, ever since he had told it to one of the merchants, and peered curiously out of their huts when they saw him coming -- Matchitemin, the ragged-looking ‘wild boy’ of the forest. They weren’t wrong, he knew. He was looking more and more the part every day. His clothes became ragged and dark, his hair grew tangled and his voice cracked from lack of use when he spoke. His eyes, some said, glowed even brighter and wilder than most… but that rumour he could not confirm, seeing as he had very little opportunity (or desire) to study his own reflection.
The end result that he was treated very much as he had been when he was a child… but even more so. When he was little, it was just the inhabitants of his village who gave him sideways glances as he passed, hoping he didn’t stop too long by their houses (for it was thought that he would spread misfortune) but never daring to shoo him off (for it was also thought that that would make things even worse). Now, the primary difference was that he was known amongst even more villages… and that although he was still looked upon uncertainty as a strange omen, he was also welcomed for the goods he brought in for trade.
Matchitemin had by now learned some of the herbs and materials that were valuable in villages. Many of these came from deep within the jungle, where the locals were scared to go… but where he felt most comfortable, feeling with some certainty that he was too well-hidden to be disturbed by the terrifying foreigners.
Each time he came into town, be brought with him a small bundle of medicinal barks, leaves, roots and similar things, which he would spread out infront of a merchant and trade for whatever it was he needed. He didn’t need much, and never drove a hard bargain. Perhaps it would have been easy for an unscrupulous merchant to take advantage of the boy, but for the most part nothing of the sort tended to happen. Either the merchants of Yael were decidedly honest, or it was the uncertainty they felt towards Matchitemin that kept them honest in their dealings.
Who knew what this feral teenager was capable, anyway. Some said that he could slip around unheard and unnoticed… and that was a dangerous thing.
* * *
This time seemed to be as any other. He came into town, earned a few stares, but made his way undaunted to the hut of the merchant to had often told him that she would be more than pleased to buy medicinal ingredients from him.
“Folks are going crazy all over,” She promised him. “Potion-makers are working double-time to stew up all sorts of remedies! And this stuff from the deep jungle, this is the best stuff. It’s clean, you know. Untouched by cursed hands, or any of those strangers. It’s good business for me when folks see you coming around with your wares. They know your stuff comes from all the proper places, and isn’t just scratched off some neighbourhood tree like some of the charletains. They’re willing to pay a bit of extra for that, you know.”
She said all this as she sorted through what he had brought, weighing out the tree-bark and grinding down the leaves. He watched without speaking, but she knew he was listening and thinking about what she had said. Matchitemin had a way of communicating without words.
After taking stock of his offerings, she offered him a small knife that he had been coveting a while, and a coil of good rope. Pleased with both items, he was about to leave her when she looked up again.
“If you’ve a mind, there’s a stranger in town. Funny fellow with hair red like a flame. Maybe you want to see him -- he’s got himself set up in one of the old huts on the edge of town. Spends most of his time sitting outside with his big beast. It sure is a thing to look at!”
Matchitemin left the hut, and felt his heart feel with dread… but also curiosity. The mention of ‘stranger’ made him want to run to his hideout as quick as his feet could carry him… but the ‘big beast’ he had with him just begged to be seen. He stood in the little alley between huts, frozen with indecision. Finally he quelled his curiosity, and retreated into the foliage. What good was a strange beast to him, anyway? It would probably be as cursed and rotten as its owner, and bound to bring them all ill luck and misery.
[words: 819]
Stereochrome
Lucky Wrangler
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Stereochrome
Lucky Wrangler
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Posted: Mon Mar 14, 2016 4:38 pm
░░ GROWTH SOLO ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ _________PLAIN VIEW OF THE BEAST
Quote:
Matchitemin is curious about a beast from the mainland. He has to overcome some of his fear and xenophobia to seek out the animal. This is the first time he has willingly gone towards something strange and unusual, rather than running full-tilt away from it.
_________Location: Yael
With time, Matchitemin had gotten quite comfortable in the wilderness. That wasn’t to say that his rudimentary little shelter was particularly comfortable; no doubt most home-dwelling folk would find it unbearably rough, as did the Yaeli boy himself when the weather turned sour, or food hard to come by. Heavy rainwater still dripped through his light reed roof. Wind blew out his fires, and always the threat of strangers hovered at the edges of his mind (he had heard rumours, too, that they had settled to stay somewhere on the coast, and were killing any Yaeli they came across). But most days he was no longer caught up in some constant struggle for survival, and he found himself with more time at his disposal than he… quite knew what to do with, really.
At first he had whiled the hours away simply wandering and exploring as he had when he was younger. But eventually he came to the realisation that he needed… well, some sort of purpose beyond staying hidden in the jungle.
What? He wasn’t sure.
On a bit of a lark, he had traded some medicinal herbs for a large sketchbook (which he hoped he would be able to keep somewhat dry under his bedding). He wasn’t sure what to do with it, but… the idea of drawing sort of appealed to him. It was just the kind of quiet, contemplative activity that he enjoyed between bouts of scrambling around trees and caves. He had always scribbled about on scraps of packaging-paper in his aunt’s house, usually drawing whatever strange things that came to his attention -- often some abstract design that she would glance at nervously, and quickly burn once he moved on to some activity. His aunt worried about anything he did like that, fearing that his strange actions might invoke angry spirits.
Matchitemin worried about that himself, too. But perhaps if he didn’t draw strange things, the spirits would be content. He would draw… animals, he decided. He’d always liked them, and now that he had lived for some time in quiet solitude, the wild denizens of the jungle were less wary of him and willing to be seen, at least for short periods of time.
There was, in particular, that keldari that he had come to recognize as his neighbour.
* * *
That day, he sat very, very still, facing the rocky gap from which the keldari usually emerged. He had no trouble doing this. He felt very happy when he was still -- it was different, being still like this, from being idle. When he was idle, he worried. He worried about the strangers. But when he was focusing on being still, he thought about nothing but that which lay before him.
He had the book open in his lap, and when the keldari slid out of it’s warren to bask in the afternoon sun, he was ready to draw.
* * * Drawing then became a bit of a… project.
It wasn’t that Matchitemin had any desire to be an artist. That was much too impractical for someone like him, someone who liked the simple ways of doing things. But drawing gave him that purpose he was looking for, as well as a challenge. He began to seek out other creatures to draw. First, he would tear a page out of his book, and roll it up to take with him as he roamed around the jungle. Then, when he caught a glimpse of some animal -- like the low, lumbering tintural he saw the next day -- he would creep as close as he could and draw.
He drew several tinturals (they were easy, after all, for they moved quite languidly), making notes about the collection of plants and herbs that grew on their shells, and the shape of their claws. He found it quite pleasant to flip through the pictures and compare the different animals, as if they were both in front of him at the same time.
There were a few other keldari, too. His drawings got better -- some were detailed, others were quick. He even captured one arching up and rattling its tail in warning.
* * *
Of course, once he got started, he knew he had to draw a limbara. He hadn’t seen too many of these large beasts, and finding one took two days of travel from his camp, headed towards the volcano (he didn’t mind venturing out this way, having heard that the bug-women’s settlement lay in the other direction). Even then, it took him another day to find one, and hours still to wait for a good approach.
He was very proud of that drawing, and returned to place it with the others between the covers of his book.
* * *
The idea began to nag on him despite his dread.
It was some time ago now that he had heard of a stranger living in one of the settlements near his camp. A ‘mainlander’, the other Yaeli were calling him. As far as Matchitemin could make out, he was not one of the bug-women, but he too came from beyond the ocean. And if that was all there was to it, Match would certainly have avoided him altogether. But apparently this mainlander had with him a big mainland beast, and he stayed up nights trying to imagine what it might look like.
It was a bit like a limbara, some said, but slimmer and faster, with a long tail. It was called a ja-na-rim. The word sounded strange on his tongue -- foreign, and definitely vile. He stayed stubbornly in his camp, refusing to bow to his curiosity.
* * *
It was no use. He had to see it. He just had to.
He tore another page from his sketchbook, pocketed his charcoal, and headed for the village. His hands trembled. This was the only time in all his life so far that he had willingly walked towards a stranger, a cursed ‘mainlander’. Why was he doing this? This was stupid. All for a stupid drawing! But he didn’t turn back. He had to see it.
He remembered, still, the merchant woman’s explanation of where he would find this stranger. He was staying in a hut at the edge of the village. The locals had started to tolerate him, for he hadn’t done them any harm… and besides, they had no choice. The big janarim-creature guarded the hut ferociously, and would growl loudly at anyone who approached. So no one did, and the mainlander was left unmolested, although the reasons for his stay were entirely unclear to all.
Matchitemin approached the hut from the jungle, choosing not to go through town. At first he saw nothing. Then, in a flash of gray-blue and red, there it was.
It pawed a large forepaw (dipped with very sharp claws) and threw up it’s horned head, growling.
The young yaeli scrambled back towards the fringe of trees.
The janarim chose not to chase him, and sat back down on the packed ground, simply watching the shadows in which he was sitting. Matchitemin, caught between running and staying still, chose to stay still.
He stayed still for hours.
His muscles burned from lack of movement, but he did not move. Eventually, the janarim seemed to calm and accept his presence, lowering his head and letting out a sound that sounded more… questioning than threatening. And when Match finally broke out of his statue-like stance, stepping (for some reason he couldn’t quite explain) towards the beast, the animal merely watched, its paws crossed in front of it, as if he was convinced that the purple-haired stranger had not come to do him any harm.
How the janarim knew this, Matchitemin could not guess. After all, even his fellow Yaeli were scared of him sometimes. And here now was this beast, this total stranger in his land -- entirely aware that he was there, watching from the shadows, but unconcerned about it all. Was it because it was formidable enough to fend of any threat? That was quite possible, Match realized. He was unarmed, and small in comparison. He was no hunter. He carried only a piece of rolled-up paper… hardly a dangerous thing. What reason would the janarim have to attack him? He meant no harm. Not to the animal, not to it’s mainland master.
Matchitemin took another step forward. He was out of the tree-cover now, and in plain view of the beast.
The janarim sat, itself like a (rather impressive statue), and watched.
Another step. Then another. Finally, when he couldn’t bear stepping any closer, Matchitemin too sat down on the ground. So now it was the two of them sitting, each staring at each other across the ten or so feet that separated them. If the beast wanted to, Match knew, it would easily stand up, run forward and cut him up with the sharp canines he could see in it’s mouth (not to mention the claws and the jagged tail).
But it didn’t.
So Matchitemin unrolled his paper, and began to draw.
[ words: 1507 ]
Posted: Sun Mar 20, 2016 7:14 am
░░ EVENT SOLO (BATTLE) ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ _________AT LARGE
Quote:
Can be used toward Battle req (or RP req only if done with a friend) Solo word minimum is 500, RP post minimum is 7
It was bound to happen eventually.
With rumors of great beasts roaming the shores of Yael, many mainlanders flocked across the sea to capture the exotic beasts. In no time at all, they returned with large scaled monsters, dangerously translucent serpents, and turtles that carried the earth. These traders traveled across the Mainland to parade the beasts, going from Matori to Zena and everywhere between. Soon enough, everyone had either seen the Yaeli beasts or at least heard of them.
And they were sure to hear about the beasts when they escaped.
With such little knowledge of the foreign creatures, the traders underestimated the animals. In no time at all, the Yaeli beasts escaped into the wilderness and ended up near your location. With new creatures all but knocking on your door, what do you do? Do you dare to try and tame them, or do you run them off back into the wilderness? You better hurry, because these creatures are lost and scared, and are sure to cause some damage before they are captured once more....
The first thing he heard was a loud, triumphant cry coming from the jungle. The trees and vines in that direction were much too thick to see through, and the voice was far too distant to have anything to do with him. Still, Matchitemin froze like a startled animal, his back straightened, his head turned towards the sound, and one foot resting a step forward, so that he would be ready to run if he had to.
The voice returned again a few moments later, still booming but no longer a shout.
“Ha! Told you I’d get him, didn’t I?”
A second voice joined in, striking up with laughter. “Oh, aren’t you proud of yourself! Jyen, that thing moves as slow as a house! A youngling could ‘get’ him, same as an old man with one eye. It’s not much to brag around, anyway. What could these things possibly be good for anyway? It’s like a bushi but not as big.”
“Bushi don’t have plants growing on them, dummy. I heard in one of the Yaeli towns that the herbs on these critters’ backs are worth something. Anyhow, who cares what it’s good for? I’m not hiring it out for jobs, am I. But folks back home haven’t seen anything like this. There’s plenty who’ll pay good money for the novelty of owning one. Now, help me pull the net in, will you? This one sure is stubborn.”
Had these two people -- a man and a woman, by the sound of it -- been talking about anything else, Matchitemin would certainly have disappeared into the jungle by now. They were obviously strangers. He could tell that just by listening to them, in their manner of speech and the words they used (like ‘a bushi’ or even ‘folks back home’). But another thing that was obvious was the fact that they had captured a beast -- a tintural, by the sound of it. And this… well, he wasn’t sure how it made him feel. A thousand different things at once, perhaps. And amongst all those things… curiosity.
He crept forward, his bare feet silent on familiar ground. Eventually he reached a spot where he could climb a rocky outcrop that overlooked the strangers. Here, he crouched low and watched while remaining unseen.
He had been exactly correct. The two, a man and a woman of some strange race (gray-skinned, with silver hair) were standing around a tintural that was trapped underneath a net. The slow animal was trying to crawl out from under it, but the beast-hunters simply gathered up the ends and began to pull it away. Matchitemin bit his lip, feeling a wave of anger. What gave these strangers the right??! Why, he had half a mind to stand up and tell them what he thought of their greedy hands snatching up what was rightfully only the Yaeli’s… but there were two of them. One carried a whip as he did, but the man had two long blades hanging from his hips.
So he slipped back into the shadows instead, and tried his best not to feel embarrassed about his cowardice.
[words : 520]
Stereochrome
Lucky Wrangler
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Stereochrome
Lucky Wrangler
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Posted: Mon May 16, 2016 6:30 pm
░░ PRP ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ _________NEVER QUITE TAME
░░ EVENT SOLO (BATTLE) ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ _________AT LARGE
Quote:
Something strange is going on...
Creatures that don't belong are appearing in the middle of the night, like ghosts, haunting the world around them. Their creepy markings make them stand out, and their dark coloring leaves many feeling cursed. These creepy crawlers are invading the world of Tendaji, and it's up to brave souls to step up and run them off, or even tame them as pets.
Do you think you have what it takes to face these creepy creatures that have wandered away from home? Well test your luck, and see how you fare.
|| These spooky familiars have been spotted in the following locations: Maglardilla (Oba, Matori, and Yael), Perzi (Jauhar/Chibale and Tale), Keldari (Sauti and Zena). Only individuals in set locations can encounter the specific familiars.
This prompt will be resolved by each player rolling 1D100 to test their success. (You can only roll once - there are no reattempts!)
Younglings Cannot Participate In This Event
xxxxxPrentice must roll 60-100 to successfully subdue the beast. xxxxxStage 2 must roll 50-100 to successfully subdue the beast. xxxxxStage 3 must roll 40-100 to successfully subdue the beast xxxxxStage 4 must roll 30-100 to successfully subdue the beast.
|| Success or fail, completion of this event rewards you with 15 EXP!
He was running through the jungle at a breakneck speed, toes spread out to gain traction on the uneven terrain.
He’d done this before -- running, the world around him a blur. He’d done it lots of times when he was younger and easy to scare. He’d run like this and his heart would be hammering, his eyes would be wide open and his mouth would be gasping in fear.
These days, though… he ran mostly because he felt like it. He liked the feel of it, rocks against the soles of his feet and vines brushing past his arms. He figured it was good practice from when he actually had to run from -- or after -- something. Most people couldn’t handle the jungle as well as he did. Most people stuck to the narrow paths that snaked between villages and towns. Matchitemin didn’t get the appeal. Paths were muddy and crowded, and if you trusted them too eagerly they could lead you astray. All you had to do was cluelessly follow the wrong one, and you’d end up somewhere you had no reason to be.
His own sense of direction would never fool him that way. All you had to do to stay on track was to keep your eyes open and --
He skidded to a halt, the aforementioned eyed affixed to a bizarre creature clinging to a tree-trunk. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen before. Insect-like, certainly (and he’d seen plenty of insects), but large enough to stretch from his toes all the way to his hips. It was black, with stark red-yellow markings… one of which looked disconcertingly like a skull.
Had he been younger, he would no doubt have turned tail and run. He’d have made up some silly story about seeing an evil spirit out in the ‘deep jungle’ and… well, that was all nonsense. He’d lived for years now in the wilderness, and he’d seen every manner of creature, but absolutely no such thing as an evil spirit. People, he’d got to thinking, were just scared of the unknown -- same as he had been scared once. It didn’t necessarily mean that the unknown had anything scary about it.
Machitemin unhooked his whip from his hip, but didn’t unfurl it. He only wanted to see how this creature would react, and he stepped forward to nudge it with the coil of the whip.
It moved immediately, scuttling about halfway up the tree, then leaping into the air and sailing to a further tree-trunk. It used the membrane between its limbs to move this way, and Match immediately figured that it didn’t have much capability for flying beyond that. Maybe he could catch it? It was an interesting thing, and he wouldn’t mind it taking it back home to draw it in his sketchbook. Maybe Brux had seen something like it in the land he had come from? It wouldn’t be his first time encountering a creature from the mainland, after all.
He gave it a moment to settle back down, figuring on surprising it. When it stopped making minute scuttling movements, he leapt forward and reached for its shiny carapace. For a half-second, he gripped the edges of it… but it jumped up with surprising force, this time landing on his head before sailing off into the jungle. Matchitemin tried to chase after it, but quickly lost track of it’s haphazard movements. A half-hour of searching later, he shrugged his shoulders and gave up on the matter. If these creatures were appearing in Yael now, well, he’d probably encounter one sooner or later.
[ words : 597 ]
Posted: Sat Nov 19, 2016 7:23 pm
░░ EVENT SOLO ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ _________MYSTERIOUS WRECKAGE
Quote:
Mysterious Wreckage Prompt 2
Solo or RP Format Counts as 5 RP growth Points Solo word minimum is 750, RP post minimum is 7
Rumors are spreading of a traveler who has entered the area. Apparently, this traveler has a strange item they claim comes from a different time. It's hard to believe what people are saying, and the only way to really know what is going on is if you see it with your own eyes. So, you make it a point to travel to where the traveler was last sighted, and as you approach you notice a crowd. The traveler is holding up an object, high above their head, and shouting across the crowd. Some approach to get a closer look, some appear fearful, but everyone can agree...this is something no one has ever seen before.
What exactly is the traveler showing off? Roll 1d6 to determine what strange item has been found using the guide below:
Rolled 1-2
The traveler pulls out a strange piece of metal, warped a bit on the edges and covered with an unknown language. It looked similar to what you've read, and you think you can make out words, but overall it doesn't make much sense.
Rolled 3-4
The traveler pulls out a strange piece of metal, wound around and almost bouncy in nature. It seems a bit sharp on the edges, but in general it looks like it could possibly be some sort of jewelry piece, if it was smaller.
Rolled 5-6
The traveler pulls two strange pieces of metal, which don't seem to go together outside of their color. One is covered in a language that sort of looks familiar, but isn't fully legible. The other is a winding spiral, which is too big to wrap comfortably around a wrist.
_________Location: Ilidan, Yael _________Event post
He had found that of all the larger settlements, Ilidan was his favourite to visit for trade.
For starters, it wasn’t even all that large, not when you had been to Jodove and Pajore -- but it was considerably bigger than most of the scattered villages and hamlets carved out of the jungle, with a proper marketplace and local industries. But it was also a place where the goods he arrived with were well-valued, and his work respected. Here was where most of Yaeli textiles were made, and there was always need for the materials needed to make dye for the cloth. The usual olives and browns were easy to come by, but anything brighter or more exotic required the ability to venture deep into the forest, and search out rare, hard-to-find plants.
Having no particular expertise in textiles, it had taken Matchitemin a while to clue on to these desired materials. First, he had come here to trade his usual inventory; plants and extracts made for healing, cleansing, and being burned in special ceremonies. But after exploring the Ilidan markets, he came to notice the stalls frequented by the dye-makers. Their fingers were always tinged green, and they paid well for even the smallest bundles of herbs.
He studied the necessary specimens, and soon became a bit of an expert in seeking them out. He chose to specialize in the rarest ones, the kind that only grew wild in the shadows of the deep jungle. Finding these was a challenge for most, but mere convenience for him.
This was where he chose to spend most of his time, anyway.
However, upon his arrival in Ilidan, he noticed a bit of a fray in one of the main thoroughfares. Townspeople were gathered around a young woman who stood on the stairs of a temple. This in itself was not particularly unusual (people gathered at temples all the time, and often to hear from a priest or a priestess), but… well, even Matchitemin could tell that this young woman was not a priestess. She wasn’t even Yaeli! She had pale peach-coloured skin and short hair the colour of sand. A mainlander, then. He didn’t know where she had come from, but she certainly didn’t look much like Caym, so she wasn’t from Oba. There were other places he knew the names of now -- Tale, Jauhar, Sauti, Zena… but he didn’t know what the people who lived there looked like.
The light-skinned woman, in any case, was holding out two object to the crowd. She was not speaking very loudly, but she sounded passionate and insistent.
“Look at these!” She beseeched her audience, stepping down a step to stretch out the objects towards those closest to her. “Have you ever seen anything like these? I’ve talked to many smiths -- none of them know of a metal like this. Look how this one shines! And see how this one stretches! Don’t be mistaken, these are not of our time?”
A brave Yaeli girl finally spoke up -- until now, no one had dared address the mainlander.
“Then who made it?”
The stranger then began to explain that the artifacts were made far back in the past, in a time before all the people of Tendaji. The crowd glanced at each other uncertainly, clearly not convinced. They had, after all, little cause to believe a stranger.
But Matchitemin? Well, this all sounded fairly reasonable to him. Surely the world was old, and there was plenty of time back in the past when mysterious and forgotten things would have happened. He had explored the deep caves in the jingle -- down there he’d seen all manner of bones, some of which seemed not to match any living Yaeli creature. The thought didn’t bother him, and he found it a bit odd that the others found it so unlikely. Did they really think the world had been created yesterday, with all the races and nations of Tendaji already in place?
The truth seemed so obvious to him that he wasn’t even particularly interested in hearing the rest of the stranger’s spiel. It seemed like she’d be stuck up there on the stairs trying to convince folks for a while… unless she got chased off by the temple attendants before she gave up. He really didn’t care to stick around for that -- him and priests didn’t get on all that well -- so he turned away and headed for the market. He had more important matters to attend to than all this stuff about past eras and forgotten histories. He had goods to trade, and supplies to collect.
[words: 767]
Stereochrome
Lucky Wrangler
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Stereochrome
Lucky Wrangler
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2016 6:53 pm
░░ PRP ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ _________WHO HIDES IN THE FLOWERS
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