With the Heroes -- Brynn, Chris, Olivia, Griffin, Rafe -- finally brought in, and with enough cures in the hands of Chosen to cure all those who were turned, a call goes out to gather them, so that they can sit and puzzle out their route, Olivia guiding a small group through the swamplands to survey Circe's lair.
It is an old plantation house: once white, now it has been overtaken by moss and growth, greenery that encircles the columns out front. The result is something dark and murky, somewhat intimidating. A monster house, that belongs to someone who cares more about nature and what lives in it than humanity.
Certainly she doesn't care about you.
The growth between the invading Chosen and the building is equally wild and overgrown, and hiding beneath layers of growth are traps that will stumble up the approaching Chosen designed to stop them from reaching their goal.
But there is no choice. They must brave the grounds, and hope their will stays strong enough to overcome whatever challenges they might face.
Posted: Wed Oct 19, 2016 8:24 pm
OOC:
This thread begins the grand Finale of this Chapter of the Epic! At this point, all turned Chosen are automatically captured & cured, and no new threads can be created after this point. You can, however, finish up those that are already open!
Start by gathering here to plan your line of attack; once we're ready to go, we'll advance through the minefield of traps Circe has laid. The next prompt should go up early tomorrow afternoon.
Wrapping her arms around her torso, Misha stood in the clearing of the Chosen's make-shift camp and frowned thoughtfully. It felt strange to have arms again and fingers and toes and all of those nifty human appendages. Idly, she wondered if she would have forgotten all of those had she stayed in serval cat form longer than she had. As it was, she still caught herself sniffing the air and tilting her head to catch sounds.
But that was something she could think about later, she told herself, if she really wanted to. Dropping her arms back to her side, Misha looked around at the others and a slow, mischievous smile grew on her face. The look just deepened when her eyes caught Brian's. She winked. There was no way she was going to let him forget his reaction to her sudden transformation from acceptably cat-naked to shamelessly Misha-naked. Practically on his lap. Luckily for her modesty (ha!) and his manners, his shirt had been just about big enough to brush past her hips and give some semblance of decency while she went looking for her clothing.
Now more or less dressed in her jeans and a top - thank goodness, her bra survived! - she stood and waited for the more tactical minds to propose their attack on Circe. She figured it had to happen, whether they liked it or not. Such a woman could not be allowed to roam free and hurt more people. Her eyes lit on Beth, Briiva, Tara... She bit her lip.
And, alright, she kind of wanted to give the witch a good kicking in the shins herself. Misha scratched behind an ear thoughtfully. If she got fleas...
grasshopper pie
lissesul
kaefaux
yekaterin
Character Name:Misha Durand Brief description of character: Outgoing, over-the-top, and as shameless as a kitten - Misha is a people person that thrives on attention, both giving and getting. While she has wide streaks of both vanity and jealousy, she isn't afraid to back it up with hard work and wit and charm.
The Chosen are not given a lot of time to dilly dally. Olivia -- dressed in someone else's makeshift clothing, a too-large sweatshirt and loose pants that suit her absolutely not at all -- grabs their attention and wrangles them into a tighter knit group. Somehow, she still manages to look calm and in control, even in the ridiculous clothes. She looks them over to make sure everyone has gathered and fallen into line before nodding once, sharply.
She leads them, pointedly, through the woods, gesturing for quiet, giving them some rudimentary lessons on how to be stealthy and how to stalk in the undergrowth. Some of them are better than others, but it appears they're all good enough, since nothing leaps out to attack them.
Or perhaps this is just a trap.
As you make your way down the winding path marked on the map, you step through a field of strange green growth -- and a smell overpowers you, something heady and strong. For a moment, your eyes close, and you just take in the scent of it, your legs slowing and everything lost in the moment. It is pleasant, soothing. It saps the will to fight from all your bones. As it begins to take you over and guide you to sleep, you finally open your eyes again and begin to fight it, focus locking back onto the path and your distant goal.
_____________________________
OOC:
This prompt is no longer active! If you completed it with 200 words before the second trap on page 3, please claim 5XP. Otherwise, please proceed immediately to the next prompt!
At this point, all PCs should be making their way through the swamp to Circe's lair -- and stepping into a strange trap!
Roll a 1d100, and match your results to the following:
If you roll a 10+, you fight off the urge to lie in the greenery, passing through the trap unscathed. If you roll a 1-3, you're turned into a small animal, but retain your wits. Until you're cured, your HP is 70, and you deal 5 damage each turn, no roll required. If you roll a 4-6, you're turned into a medium animal, but retain your wits. Until you're cured, your HP is 60, and you deal 8 damage each turn, no roll required. if you roll a 7-9, you're turned into a large animal, but retain your wits. Until you're cured, your HP is 55, and you deal 12 damage each turn, no roll required.
If you reply to this prompt with at least 200 words within the next 24 hours, you can claim 5 XP for this trap. If you don't respond within that time, you'll still have an opportunity to roll, but not to post your reply and get the bonus RP!
If you are turned into an animal, you can either ask around in the hopes that someone has a cure, or stay an animal for the remainderof the finale. The choice is yours.
Zan followed their recently re-humanized leaders down its length in a silence steeped in concentration, dagger drawn and bright eyes intent on every tree and bush they passed. Little thought was given to the ground, however, and as it so happened, that was where all the action was. When the Chosen ahead of him began pausing like lemmings, one after another after another, Zan's suspicions were piqued, but it was already too late. The scent of Circe's strange trap had reached him, and he stopped too, waving like the grass at his feet. Their quest went from vital to unimportant in a beat of his heart, his desire to give up all encompassing.
You've been so brave, his ego said. Why not lie down and take a rest, just for a little while?
It sounded like a good idea, but just as Zan dropped to a knee, anticipating the soft, strange growth cradling his cheek and tangling around him like a tightly tucked blanket on a cold night, he shook his head sharply, recalling the task at hand.
he muttered, pushing himself to his feet and plodding along after the others.
Character Name:Zan Gethin Brief description of character: Friendly, perceptive, phony. Zan has wholeheartedly embraced the more mundane aspects of his new life at the Prytaneum—such as regular meals, his stipend, and the gym—but his inability to stick with any one thing for long has left him struggling to pin down how he might best serve his god long term.
Ernst still felt out of place, even though he was no longer convinced that he needed to be in a savannah.
Well - if he was going to be honest, a woodsy swamp wasn't where Ernsts belonged, either. But - and magic was undeniably real now - what sort of magic shenanigans could Ernst get up to in the city?
Actually, on second thought he didn't want to know the answer to that question. "Dionysus" had originally appeared to him on a computer monitor, after all.
He didn't feel like he knew what he was doing, though, even despite Olivia's surprisingly helpful tips. And yet - rabid animals didn't seem to be pouring out of the woods, like they had been when the group had been embroiled in the search for their more experienced cohort. He was safe - fine. Well, their numbers were large enough that he'd have been fine anyway, but...the point could stand. He followed along in the middle of the pack and looked, a bit futilely, for familiar faces. The thing was that a surprising amount of the people here were familiar now. Or, well, he knew names, at least, if not much more about them.
Names were enough, though. Names, and how they reacted in a crisis. Which was surprisingly well, all told. No one had died, and Ernst honestly believed that they'd been in danger of dying. He'd been a ******** giraffe, and Griffin had been a rhino. If anything could kill humans through their magic mark shields, or whatever, a rhino sure as hell could.
He was on the lookout the moment everything started to look greener than it had, though. That had to be unnatural. Sure, things were green in the swamp, but mostly they were, he'd been learning, an awful mud brown, that weighed heavily on the clothing, and made walking difficult. This was lush and verdant and heavenly-smelling. But was there anything wrong with a lovely scent? It was so relaxing, especially after all the horrors he'd just been witnessing. Ugh, couldn't they just take a nap before they made their final march?
There was no way ********. No, Ernst was here to stop Circe, or someone playing at Circe, who definitely had some kind of magic ability, or were-transformation-inducing ability. And this? It smelled just like magic. Heavenly, but probably deceiving. Around him a few Chosen had already begun to drop.
Message received, he thought: plug your nose and stay away from the greenery. He pulled the last tatters of his jacket from his pack and secured it firmly under his nose. It smelled pretty dank - but it was a kind of safeguard, at least.
Character Name:Ernst Nzikobankunda Brief description of character: A very tall, friendly but airheaded man with a tendency to ramble. He looks tired and run-down, and is dressed, for once, in a worn-down ensemble with no florals in sight.
This was it -- finally, this was the prelude of the end. The two performers were practically moving as one, fingers threaded and steps in time with each other. Rose had been a force to be reckoned with when she thought her two were in danger - and now, driven towards the conclusion, she felt like she could take on anything.
Except, where they were had the sweetest smell. It reminded her of the tea concoction she'd made for the cure, but aside, this was drawing her into a sense of feeling tired that was beyond her ability to control and manage. It was like being drugged, the sort of heaviness in the eyes and the weight in her chest that made her feel like she was being dragged. Her steps, once even with Marisol's, began to slow - but it was the only warning she or the dancer would get. Her fingers slipped from their grasp, not because she was falling away -- but because her fingers were disappearing.
It was so fast. One minute, she was pushing through this last hellscape with her mind set to determination -- and the next, she was buried in clothes that were once hers but now were too loose and smelled strongly of the acrid Louisiana land. Everything was loud, her nose overwhelmed, and distantly she knew that she had likely fallen prey to what had changed her two before...but her mind was her own. Wiggling out of the loose garments, a pale colored wolf with soft grey markings over her face shed the clothes, emerging changed and yet still whole.
Rose turned her canine head and looked up at Marisol, nosing her palm. I'm still here. I'm still me. A soft whine said the words she couldn't, and grabbing the pouch with her last cure that had been around her waist, she made sure Marisol understood before she bounded forward.
They still had work to do, and it wasn't over yet.
Quote:
If you roll a 4-6, you're turned into a medium animal, but retain your wits. Until you're cured, your HP is 60, and you deal 8 damage each turn, no roll required.
Character Name:Juniper Rose Brief description of character: An enigmatic songstress who seems to have stepped out of a time long passed, Rose is level-headed and self-reliant, perfectly willing and capable of doing what's necessary with her own two hands. Strong-willed and no-nonsense, she's a bit reserved but puts on affable airs, making her somewhat pleasant to be around.
The dancer's fingers had remained firmly entwined with the singer's after she'd been cured. Especially now that they were going after Circe. The last thing she wanted to do was lose sight of Rose and if Cas hadn't disappeared off to who knows where after he'd be cured--she forced herself to keep focused and not worry about where he was--she'd have at least looped an arm through his to keep them altogether. Instead, she found herself thinking of this like it was a heist.
It wasn't as easy to be quiet in hiking boots but she was faring better than a fair few. At least until the greenery seemed to cushion her footfalls. A tingle went up her spine as the scent was released. Unable to resist the urge to take a deep breath, she found it was soothing and--something was wrong.
Marisol's eyes snapped open as the touch that had connected her to the blonde vanished. It took a moment for the presence of a nose and soft fur to register, as her fingers rubbed against the wolf's muzzle. Concern and compassion flared in her green eyes and she knelt down to examine the canine.
"Don't worry. We'll get her and then cure you," she understood as even transformed, the blonde was focused as she managed to use her teeth to hand the pouch containing one last cure to the dancer. She took it, letting a hand idly trail down the pale pelt, before the wolf was on the prowl. With a smile, she picked up Rose's clothes and folded them carefully. They wouldn't fit in the pouch but she'd had no qualms about stealing someone's backpack from camp in case it came in use. And now she was glad she had.
Character Name:Marisol Whelan Brief description of character: Marisol is a young woman who is adept at fitting in and capable of charming most of those she meets. A thrill seeker at heart, she does not shy away from difficult tasks or the spotlight.
Things were better? In so much that everyone was once again back to being human and together. Olivia and the rest of their teachers were back, and on two legged. Lex fiddled with their necklace, stroking over the silver braided chain before making sure it was stuffed out of sight. All their jewelry was tucked away. No need for the shiny metal to catch anyone attention.
Lex sighed, walking carefully through the woods and to a field of bright green growth, grass, flowers? Something smelled lovely, soothing, like lavender oil and hot water. Heady and calling ‘why don’t you take a nap?’
They slowed, drifting where they stood, swaying slightly, eyes closed and basking in the warmth and scent lazily. Why not take a nap? It not like Circe’ was going anywhere.
Wait.
Circe turned their friend into a mouse, and their teachers into animals and they wanted to punch her in the face. Lex jerked, eyes flying open, and set one foot in front of the other, teeth set. They weren’t going to be taken for a fool barely within the first leg of their journey.
And there went the cop. Lex gave a low snort, side eyeing Brian, as they continued on. Stealthy, that didn’t mean yelling out when things went sideways. And s**t was beginning to go sideways.
Character Name:Lex Tavei Brief description of character: Impulsive to the bone and flamboyant, Lex is a ball of energy, making rash decisions and depending on his/their luck to carry him/them out of trouble. Deity: Hermes Weapon: Brass Knuckles (Agile, melee) HP: 50 Minicert: latter maybe Items: cures (?10/11)-Will figure out soon
and be blue rolled 1 100-sided dice:
76Total: 76 (1-100)
Posted: Thu Oct 20, 2016 2:28 pm
Asher had been oddly energized: tired of circling around the issue, tired of playing search and rescue or simple guard standing watch over those Chosen who'd been brought in. It was a relief once they were turned back to human form, though maybe he'd seen a few things he hadn't wanted to, before enough clothing had been located. It was exciting that they were finally moving out, going from detectives to army to take care of the problem at its source.
So it was strange, when his limbs started to feel loose, the heady sensation of downers making his steps slow and loosening his fingers around the hilt of his dagger. He was puzzled by the way his knees turned to jello, by the temptation to collapse down into the greenery and forget all about their true goal, the witch at the end of the yellow brick road.
He looked left, and saw other Chosen with the same reaction: blinking dazedly or their eyes completely closed, descending slowly, all of them caught up in the strange spell. He looked right and frowned just a bit, fairly certain he'd just seen someone shed their human shape and melt into something else --
No. He refused to turn into the kind of problem he'd been dealing with for days. Instead, Asher shook out his head and forced himself forward, step by step, until he was out of the murky growth, panting and struggling to catch his breath.
Sylvia wasn’t exactly sure how to be stealthy with her huge shield yet. For now, she had taken to carrying it on her back, though it made her worry about having to swing it down and use… Hopefully she wouldn’t have to. She didn’t want to think about it too much unless she had to. At least she seemed to be managing okay so far, even if she felt a bit unwieldy. She was making less noise than she would have thought, actually.
But the line ahead was slowing. Sylvia figured there was some sort of obstacle she wasn’t aware of, and didn’t worry about it – until a few steps later, when an earthy scent didn’t just invade her senses, but overwhelmed them. Instead of being confused, she took a deeper breath, and the lids over her eyes fluttered. Within the next few steps, her eyes were closed and her legs felt as if they were melding with the soft earth below. What were they headed for, anyway? A witch of legend with a possible army of ‘animals’ who apparently rather enjoyed their new bodies and a life in her watch. Why disturb them if they were so comfortable?
No. Sylvia knew better than that. She gaped for breath, hoping to clear her senses, but found that she still needed to fight against the heavy, swimming feeling in and around her head. She opened her eyes and continued to blink, bleary and weighted with the desire for sleep. She could tell she wasn’t the only one fighting as others stumbled around her – but she could see the edge of the field. She foisted her shield higher onto her back and pushed forward.
Was that Brian’s voice? Brian’s booming voice, searching for Misha and Beth, rang out from up ahead. So much for being stealthy. A few moments later, Beth’s voice followed, and Sylvia’s head snapped up again to look for her. Beth had called for her. A smile pulled at her lips – she was surprised at how pleased she was that someone cared enough to call for her. It gave her a bit of a boost for the last bit of field she needed to traverse.
She finally reached Brian and Beth at the edge of the field, offering a tired smile. “Glad to see you’re both still awake.” She raised a brow at Brian and gave a little nod, “You’re really good at that whole ‘stealthy’ thing.” She was teasing, of course. Hopefully he would take it well.
Sylvia lowered her shield to her side, carefully, and turned to make sure that the others were still following. They were all clearly fighting, but they were doing a good job; she smiled with each familiar face she saw escaping. She did catch a glimpse of a wolf walking amongst them – perhaps that was the fate she narrowly avoided. In any case, this was only the beginning. Who knew what they still had to get through before meeting the actual witch…
[ 500 words ]
grasshopper pie
Yekaterin
Character Name:Sylvia Owens Brief description of character: Sweet, optimistic, always trying to be helpful – even if it means bluntly telling you how stupid you’re being. Remains tentative about her new life as a Chosen, having never been a fighter…
[ If you roll a 10+, you fight off the urge to lie in the greenery, passing through the trap unscathed. ]
It felt so nice. That was what Brian would remember later. it just felt so nice. He knew better, though. Lord, he knew better. They said you felt peace just before you died. He wouldn't know. Some day, maybe, but not yet.
As wonderful as the sleepy feeling was running through his limbs, it was ill-conceived. Circe intended them harm ala the Wizard of Oz, except these monkeys weren't flying. When he came out the other end of the field and the sensation of the trap began to dissipate, he turned around.
"Misha!" he yelped. The Zeus with the mouth indeed. "Beth?!"
ShortGreen
Yekaterin
Character Name:Brian Watterly Brief description of character: A passionate, competent leader-type with a bit of difficulty expressing the emotions he feels. Deity: Zeus Weapon: Bow (balanced ranged) HP: 47/47 Minicert:
If you roll a 10+, you fight off the urge to lie in the greenery, passing through the trap unscathed.
Tom was glad that he had eventually found the rest of his clothes and his supplies that he had been forced to abandon for a bit. But now he was feeling much more comfortable after finally turning back into his regular old human form. Up until this point though he had mostly been checking out his supplies and then took a much-needed nap before getting up to join the rest of the group.
He needed it after all that he had gone through, even if it hadn’t been that much. But he was feeling tired and he felt he would be of better use to the group if he could actually do stuff for them rather than trying to fight off the urge to sleep. So when it was finally time to go he was up and ready to join the rest of them. Some of them had managed to find map pieces leading to Circe. He wasn’t that surprised that she was behind all of this. It seemed to be her usual M.O.
However, as the group was moving, he felt the urge to fall asleep overcome him once again. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling this way, but he fought the urge to follow it’s silent command. He had JUST taken a nap! No way was he going to sleep now. However, looking around it seemed as though he wasn’t the only one feeling sleepy. He wondered…
He jumped a bit when he saw Rose turn into an animal. Clearly they were heading into a trap at this point. He was starting to get nervous, wondering just what they were going to encounter when they were finally able to confront Circe.
Character Name:Tom Wolf Brief description of character: A new doctor who tends to be quite sarcastic though isn't sarcastic with his patients. A bit in the dumps because he has been unable to find a job as of yet. Always wears a black cowboy hat when possible.
Being human again was like a revelation. She was grateful to have her clothes and shoes back, to say nothing of her very expensive lingerie, but there was a pang in her heart to be back to herself. She wasn't expecting to miss being a mouse, yet she did, finding herself yearning to be cuddled and coddled as before. She had never felt as safe or as loved as she had when she was scrambling around with a tail. If she said she didn't like being called cute and being pet all the time, she would be lying.
And now they were at the final assault. They would confront Circe for once and for all. A momentary twitch of her sympathetic muscle assailed her. What was their problem with the witch anyway? What harm was she exactly inflicting? 'Well, she turned us into animals, that's a start,' she thought wryly to herself, but then she hadn't been overly encumbered by her transformation. The thought that she would trade what she had for what she had become terrified her, so she swallowed that thread of anxiety before it could bubble up to encompass her.
But there was something about traipsing around Circe's backyard that seemed wrong and maybe they had no business there. Much better to curl up, to lay down and unpack this grimy ball of yarn sitting behind her ribs.
Her head snapped around at Brian calling her name. Returning to her senses, the fear in her eyes reflected back as she stared at him. She realized that her nose and mouth were filled with a heavy, cloying scent not unlike the perfume her mother liked to marinate in to cover the wine smell or perhaps a more fragrant version of the smoke of her father's cigars. Covering her mouth with her sleeve, she hurried over to him, trying to keep an eye out for the other member of their trio. Her vision still wasn't at its best from her mouse form. "I'm here, Brian." She gripped at his elbow tightly, as much to reassure him that she had escaped as to comfort herself that he, too, was safe. She had conceded that her shoes weren't practical, but there was little she could do except finish the fight with them on, even if they sunk into the grass with every step.
"Where's Misha?" She turned, thinking she could see Sylvia and Lex somewhere nearby. She waved at Lex, hoping to catch their attention and wave them over. "Sylvia?" She called. Her voice didn't travel like Brian's did, but she tried.
Weapon: Whip (agile ranged) HP: 50/50 Dmg:
Character Name:Beth Almasy Brief description of character: A sweet but skittish beauty who's lived in the lap of luxury her whole life, Beth doesn't quite know what she's doing. She's always willing to support and cheer on her friends, mostly so she doesn't actually have to lift a finger.
Deity: Hera WC: 431, Total: 431
ShortGreen
grasshopper pie
Shaddaling
Mika_Yumi
Yekaterin
Offline
Sage of Chaos rolled 1 100-sided dice:
34Total: 34 (1-100)
Sage of Chaos
Offline
Posted: Thu Oct 20, 2016 4:56 pm
The new Artemis recruit passed through the wild plants with her spear in hand, striding with it as a gentleman with his cane. She kept her chin high, and her vision keen, and to anyone possibly watching her, it did not seem like she paused as she passed through the trapped area. Her eyes did shut for a moment, longer than the normal time to blink, but she opened them again quickly, her amber fire eyes glittering.
She was not immune to Circe's wiles, of course. But what was rightfully a wave of tiredness, Izzy only assumed was weakness, and ignored it as such. The idea that she might nap, when there was a miserable a** woman out there for her to murder? Preposterous. This Circe had rained so much confusion, humiliation, and discomfort upon Izzy through her animal magic antics in the last week. Rest was no reward to Izzy now - the boiling heat of revenge powered her limbs forward, and kept her mind cruelly bent towards the witch's sanctuary.
Honesty, Izzy quite disliked the mounted animal heads back at the Artemis dorm. But now, as she determinedly stamped through the curled, overgrown plants, the rages of wounded pride stirring her heart, did she finally sympathize with her goddess's taste. Izzy herself would not mind much a trophy from this fight for herself.
