The Unknown: A Game of Fear, Ignorance, and Adventure

[MintyNinja]

Rokya followed the X-Marked path back to the beach. It was slow going, having to stop and bend down to find the next marking, but he didn't meet any snakes this time. As he broke out of the underbrush Rokya took note of who was present. The sailors that had ferried them over were rolling some dice inside the longboat, and a great, grizzled orc was pulling himself out of the water. After a moment he realized that Rhee wasn't on the beach either, damn drunk probably got lost in the jungle!

"Oy," he shouted to the sailors, "We've found us some fresh water. And there's a tower at the top of the hill. If you still got your machetes we can clear a path before Deslock shows up." The sailors glanced at each other but went back to their games. Dejected, yet determined, Rokya turned to the shaggy orc and asked, "A little help?"

 

[MeatSpace]

"A little help?"

Garrill shook himself, sending drops of water now stained and thick with filth and grit onto the damp sand and surf. His thick dreadlocks looked the same going in as they did coming out somehow, still caked and matted with dirt and now salt. The voice calling out to him gained some momentary attention. The jungle was calling to him and the request to carve a path into it was all too alluring for the damp orc. Sand still sticking to his salty skin and axes in hand he charged the tree line waving the two blades about his head and laughing like a madman.

The dense foliage was tissue under the razor blades of his hefty axes. Each swing clearing great chunks from the path, the green wall did nothing to slow his advance. Both hands flew through the air with reckless abandon. One could speak of the orcs sanity but you could not question his efficiency as a wide path was swiftly appearing behind him. "Come on cowards! There's riches afoot! Glory and gold awaits!" Garril disappeared into the jungle his uproarious laughter never seeming to fade behind him.

 

[MintyNinja]

"Come on cowards! There's riches afoot! Glory and gold awaits!"

Rokya stood stunned for a moment. At the most he was just hoping for an angry voice to prod the sailors into motion, but now even he couldn't blame them for sitting still. I am not going to follow him directly. One twitch and I'd be half the man I am! he thought to himself.

"Alright boys, ya heard him. Do yourself a favor and don't follow too close, though. Just tidy it up a bit, I guess," he said to the sailors. With fear of who else he may convince to persuade them, they made haste. As Rokya moved to join them a thought surfaced in his mind, Can't be leavin' the beach unguarded. Well no point in contradicting myself to the sailors, and nothing short of a mountain being dropped on him could slow the orc, may as well do it myself. And with a slight grin he took a seat in the longboat and mulled over the day's events in his head.

 

[ThePuzzldPirate]

Rhee looked towards Jakob nodding her head to grab some jerky she had in her pocket. Not waiting for a thanks, she decided to head inside the tower to look around. She pushed the door wider for light showing the many papers that were scattered on the floor, some of them happened to be the doctor's. She gathered them as her eyes wondered.

She went down the staircase to see what she could find. After nearly falling down the stairs and realizing it's too dark, she turned around and yelled for fire. Rhee then headed up nervous about the stairs as they were more moldy near the top. The tower allowed her full view of the island and the ocean that surrounded it.

 

[Caimekaze]

Keil only just managed to grab the key and keep his crutches up at the same time. He glared briefly at Deslock, before setting back off to the explorer's cabin.

I guess being a delivery boy is better than nothing. I really can not wait until I am fully recovered.

Finding the map didn't take long; it was, after all, right where Deslock said it would be. Having acquired the map, the young boy slowly made his way back to Deslock.

"Here you go, sir. I relocked your cabin for you, also."

 

[Zemalac]

"Right-o," said Deslock, snatching both map and key. "Let's see where we are, shall we?"

A quick perusal of the unfolded map revealed nothing of import. A more lengthy examination, followed by a brief argument with Grummond, Grummond's sextant and a few navigation-inclined members of the crew, led to the position of the Cepolada being set at about three degrees south of where they were supposed to be. Just as it seemed everything was settled, however, it was discovered that the point they were using as a reference was not, in fact, an unseasonably bright incarnation of the Dogman's Star, but was instead the planet Dappan, a realization that ignited the whole thing once again. Factions were formed, bitter rivalries of opinion developed, alliances were made and broken, the betrayed made shocked accusations against the betrayers, who righteously declared their allegiance lay only with Truth.

Eventually, however, they came to a consensus.

"The island Drechiat," said Deslock, reading from the map. "Also known as Smuggler's Isle, along with about fifty other pinprick rocks in the middle of the ocean. And nearly ten degrees off of our supposed course."

"Eight and a bloody half," muttered Grummond, not taking kindly to the implication that he could not navigate a straight line with his own damn ship.

"It's closer to the godsdamn deadlands than it is to where we're going," said Deslock, sending a glare in the general direction of the captain. "If we keep going like this we'll run into fucking Zanchar before we hit the Continent. Let's fix that after we resupply, shall we?"

The captain grunted. Deslock took that for assent.

"Right," he said, folding up the map. "Someone's coming back out with the longboat, I see--everyone who's going on the second landing party, form up on me." He paused, then added, "You come, too. Nothing better than some exercise to help things heal."

It took Keil a moment to realize the explorer was pointing at him.

 

[MintyNinja]

The sky had stayed rather clear throughout the day, allowing the sun to bake the sandy beaches of the Island. It was this dreaded orb of fire that had convinced the two brighter sailors of the first landing party to relax in the shade while the other two kept watch. But that was before Garril Rasput's mad charge into the bushes, with two sailors in tow. Thinking the longboat unguarded, the brighter sailors broke from their cover only to find Rokya Nasheel stretched out across two seats.

"G'day, Mister Nasheel," said one of the sailors, recognizing the young merchant from earlier.

"Yes?" Rokya said as he scrambled about. Damn, need to stay alert. Can't be caught slouching. "Oh, good day, there. Ye ready to report back?"

The two sailors shrugged their shoulders and each picked up an oar, at least they weren't trailblazing with the orc.

 

[Caimekaze]

"M-me? As long as you are sure. I do not wish to be a burden. I shall go prepare, please allow me five minutes."

Keil returned to his cabin as fast as he could, quickly getting changed into something more suitable for an island adventure, all the while laughing internally.

Haha, brilliant. Solid land!

Changed, the youth returned to Deslock and saluted as best he was able.

"Ready for duty, sir!"

 

[Zemalac]

"Good, good," said Deslock absently, eyes flicking between the treeline and the longboat. He squinted at the sky above the island, and frowned. "Is that smoke? No, wait, just a cloud. It moved."

The sailors in the longboat pulled hard at the oars, pushing water behind them by main force. There had been four sailors originally: two to row, one to watch for sandbars and reefs, and one to stand ready with a musket and cutlass in case anything should try to jump them on the way in. The navigator and the guard had been swept up in the wake of Garril Rasput and were currently clearing the larger chopped-down branches out of the trail he had blazed, but at this point the longboat didn't need them. They'd covered this water already and knew there weren't any lurking reefs, and they had Royka to fend off any shallow-water sea monsters that might put in an appearance. All that was left to do was row.

In no time at all they were back alongside the Cepolada, busily tying down the ends of the rope ladder.

 

[Zemalac]

The tower was old. It had been raised back in the days when Zanchar was a name to be feared, before the Empire had become the punchline of a bad joke. It had stood firm, watching for barbarian armadas and spreading the influence of the Empire into the dark corners of the world. It had been a symbol of Imperial power. Look, the tower had said, we have built this thing to lay claim to this land, these waters, and this world. Look upon our works, all ye lesser races, and despair for, even on this gods-forsaken rock in the middle of the ocean, we are here.

And then Old Jack happened to the Zancharian Empire, and everything fell apart. The elves abandoned their posts, their servants left with them or starved, and the isle reclaimed the tower.

The top of the stairs where Rhee Dharmack stood were, in fact, about two-thirds of the way up the full height of the tower. But that was all right, seeing as the remaining third did not exist as a coherent structure anymore. At some point over the centuries the top of the tower had fallen in, leaving a pile of rubble on the ground floor that made it difficult to open the door to the cellar. The stairs actually continued for a few feet beyond the place where the wall had fallen away, extending into space for two rickety steps. Despite the missing top, it was enough height to see pretty much the entire island.

To the west was the Cepolada, at anchor, and much forest. To the east was more forest, sloping in the other direction, and...smoke? Was that a ship?

Rhee shaded her eyes with her hand and peered closer. It was, indeed, a ship, riding at anchor on the opposite side of the island from the Cepolada. A small vessel, stained a ragged black by overly enthusiastic application of tar, accompanied by a thin plume of smoke rising from a nearby beach.

And that was all she saw before the birds went crazy and started attacking everyone.

____________________​

Meanwhile, on the ship, there was a problem of a different sort.

"He's on crutches," said one crewman. "He can't climb down the bloody ladder."

"Of course he can," said another, mellowing the comment with a tip of his hat. "You need upper body strength to run those things. Just climb down with the arms, right?"

Deslock wasn't bothering himself with how to get Keil onto the longboat: his was the grand vision, and it was up to everyone else to figure out how to make it happen.

 

[ThePuzzldPirate]

Rhee's sightseeing was cut short after something hit the back of her head, she reached for the wound only to cover her hand in blood. Her attacker was no more bigger than a crow and it was obvious it was going for a second attack. When it dove, she swatted out the feathers with minor discomfort turning her gaze to the forest.
Oh....that's a lot of birds...
Some sort of predator bird made his battle cry which caused Rhee to instinctively dive down the stairs. She grabbed her stomach and looked up to see swarms of birds flying over the tower. She ran to the main level uncaring of her pain and she asked a second time with as much grace she could muster.

"WANT FIRE!!!!"

 

[MintyNinja]

Rokya's head poked out over the side of the ship, and soon the rest of his body followed him up the ladder and onto the deck. No snakes out here, he thought to himself triumphantly, until he noticed an expedition member or two resting in the shadows. Well, no literal snakes out here.

"Deslock, sir. I've come to report about our findings on the Island," he said to the Expedition's leader.

"Then report, we don't have all damn day."

"Right, sir. We've discovered an old tower at the crest of the hill, nearly invisible from here due to the dense jungle. From a similar vantage point I was able to see a clearing with a possible water source," said Rokya.

"Good, good. And the crew? They're still alive, right?"

"As far as I can tell, sir. I left Sir Calgar and Master Thrace at the tower and Doctor Nexxado was last seen chasing Derlan into the jungle. Garril Rasput deigned to take the other two crewmen with him as he cleared a trail for the second landing party. Rhee Darmack was last seen at the beach, but I haven't heard if she ran off into the jungle on her own or not. But when I returned to the beach, there was no sign of her, I presume she's still exploring." At the end of his report Rokya simply asked, "May I join the second landing party?"

 

[Zemalac]

"May I join the second landing party?"

"No, I'm going to make you stay on the bloody ship," said Deslock. "Of course you can join the second landing party. For you it's not so much joining as it is going back."

He glared suspiciously at a pair of sailors lowering a cache of barrels to the longboat, then turned suddenly to Keil. "You think you can make it down the ladder?"

______________________​

Garril Rasput was having one of those days. Specifically, one of those days where everything was bright and sharp and clear. Not, for example, one of the days that he spent engulfed in smoke and hallucinations. This was a good day. He could taste lightning in his veins and sea-salt in the air.

And then, leaping for his head, was a cat. Sort of a demonic looking thing, really, all hissing fangs and claws, streaking through the air like it was riding a greased rail. He saw it coming leisurely, every second seeming an hour, and slowly brought his hand up to brush it away.

That was what he saw. What the two sailors behind him saw was an orange blur flying through the trees and an answering blur that was Garril's fist. The respective blurs connected in midair and flew apart with a bone-rattling crunch and a yowl of pain. The tiger--for that is what it was, a small one--flipped around and landed on all fours, hissing in pain and surprise. Garril, on the other hand, was for the most part unmoved. He brought his axe down to clear away another branch before turning towards the beast.

The two sailors backed away, slowly, the armed one carefully unlimbering his musket.

 

[Caimekaze]

Keil stared at the ladder, then his crutches.

"... I can certainly try."

Moving over towards the ladder, the boy slowly climbed onto it before dropping his crutches into the boat and descending. It was by no means fast and he certainly cringed a few times, but eventually Keil made it safely into the boat.

"There. That was not difficult."

 

[MasterSqueak]

Marneus charged into the tower, sword drawn, and saw Rhee laying on the ground. He was about to ask what happened when the birds descended on him through the massive opening in the roof, claws scratching impotently against his armor.

"What in the-"

He was cut off by a clever bird trying to peck out his eyes through the eye slit on his helmet. He swatted away the creature, gripped his sword, and cleaved it in half. Finally comprehending the request for fire, he ran to the nearest tree. The swarm followed, and he tried to hold them off with one handed swings. The other hand snapped off a branch and dropped it to the ground, before getting another one and rubbing them together.

Fire burst to life, and he waved the burning branch to scatter the birds. The Knight went back to the tower and looked Rhee over.

"Are you alright?"

 

[ThePuzzldPirate]

Rhee stood clenching her chest, she could only give Marneus a thumbs up not believing he would understand her gibberish. She walked to the center and tapped her feet on the ground.

"Smoke up, no...egg?" It was as close she could come up with.

Rhee started grabbing the pieces of wood that littered the floor from the collapse too scared to go outside. After the fire was big enough to make a roof, she started to lean on the door slowly pushing it closed. Whoever was outside either had to come inside or go somewhere else, she wasn't leaving any options.

 

[Saskwach]

Spoiler: OOC

Shizzle, my bizzle. I wrote a decent post then realised one of its core assumptions is quite, quite wrong. Back to the drawing board, but after sleep and uni tomorrow.

 

[MeatSpace]

The day continued to improve for Garril. The wicked orange demon leaping at him was the day personified, just waiting to be seized. Still roaring with laughter as heavy feline claws dug into his flesh and curved gleaming fangs snapped at his throat. He fought back, the cat had selected a poor choice today. He broke from it's hold, letting it take what flesh it could from his arms and grinned. "Stay your hand!" He shouted between fits of laughter, gesturing with an axe blade to the armed sailor. He had heard that big cats took eye contact as a challenge and so he stared harder than he ever had before straight into the eyes of the jungle beast. He wasn't a telepath but he wouldn't have been broadcasting his intentions any clearer if he was.

He crouched in a fighting stance, watching the cat circle him cautiously. Both sought an opening, a momentary show of weakness or hesitation to exploit. Like chess masters playing the field they weighed every possibility and potential outcome. The cat and Garril finding some savage common ground between each other. Perhaps if they had not met under these circumstances they could have been the best of friends. Then it was perceived. That single show of respite, and it was exploited in an instant. Exploding into a whirling frenzy of sinew and steel he attacked, all the while screaming "I'll eat like a king tonight!"

 

[Zemalac]

"All right," Deslock shouted. "All aboard who are coming aboard! If you don't make the boat, you can bloody well swim!" He dropped down the ladder three rungs at a time and hit the longboat with a solid thud. "Get a move on, gents! We've got things to do and places to go!"

Eventually everyone who was coming was in the longboat and they set off, the sailors straining now to row the extra weight. Deslock stood in the front and refused to move, no matter how many polite, meaningful comments the sailors made about weight distribution and balance. The upshot of all this was that it took nearly twice as long to get back to the island than it had taken them to row out to the ship.

And then, of course, when they reached the shore a bunch of shrieking parrots tried to steal Deslock's hat.

_____________________​

They raced along the river, trees a blur on both sides and the stones below a solid gray sheet, Doctor Nexaddo clenching tight an improvised harness of sturdy vine. The stream took a tight bend to the right and finally opened up to the ocean. Coming to the shore they stopped for a moment to catch their collective breath. The doctor looked both ways, made a tug on the harness to the left and again they were off, faster than before, with an open view along the packed beach. As they reached the tip of a short puninsula the Cepolada became viewable, out in open water. Shifting his gaze from the ship to the beach he could see a longboat being pulled onto shore. Most of the occupants were struggling to pull the boat onto shore, except for two--one standing off to the side shouting, and one on crutches who could only be Keil. The Doctor scowled. What was Keil doing off the ship in his condition?

It was obvious that he was needed by the Expedition. Time to make his entrance. The Doctor leaned down and whispered into a pointed ear. A smile crept across the face of Nexaddo's companion, revealing sharp white canines the length of a man's finger. The beast roared, the sound resounding for miles.

_____________________​

Deslock turned at the sound, scanning the treeline, expecting to see some diabolical creature storming out at him. Instead, he saw Doctor Nexaddo coming down the beach, inexplicably riding a tiger. It was a magnificent creature--if it had stood on its hind legs, it would have been fully three times as long as the Doctor, with the tail adding another four feet or so. It's coat was dark and bristly, and its eyes glared baleful yellow at all and sundry. Nexaddo had, somehow, created a harness for the beast, and was at ease on its back, looking disgustingly pleased with himself.

"What the hell?" said Deslock, staring.

It was then that the parrots attacked. Three colorful birds clamped onto Deslock's hat, screeching, and tried to bodily lift it, possibly working on the assumption that it was part of his head. As such, they were somewhat surprised when it came off so easily, only to be snatched back down by an irate explorer.

Then, unfortunately, they went for his eyes.

The landing party quickly devolved into chaos, with sailors swinging oars to try and smash birds out of the air, Deslock attempting to compete with the screams of the parrots via robust swearing, and all and sundry trying to protect their eyes from avian claws. Doctor Nexaddo rode his tiger straight back into the jungle, ignominiously pursued by a colorful flock: if anyone had been in the mood for laughing, it would have been a hilarious sight. As things stood, though, everyone was more concerned with their own troubles.

_____________________​

The man with the musket couldn't get a good shot.

Garril Rasput danced with the tiger, both of them whirling around in a blur of steel, sinew and claws. Here a fang drew spitting blood from orcish flesh: there an axe trailed crimson after passing through orange fur. They moved fast and smooth, each step and leap seeming as though it had to have been choreographed by a master days ahead of time, each blow a line in a deadly poem.

The tiger was nature's finest, the highest beast on the food chain, lord of all he surveyed. He had learned the art of death from the very moment he was born, practiced it every day of his existence, and was long since a master.

Garril was a huge, vaguely insane orc soused in so many chemicals and magical potions that he might as well have had acid for blood.

It wasn't really a fair fight.

 

[MintyNinja]

Rokya had a seat between a few empty barrels and with his full pack still strapped to his back he wasn't much use with an oar. But the sailors didn't mind as he helped even the weight of the longboat, not enough to make things simple, but enough that they didn't capsize.

His attention was drawn for a moment to Doctor Nexxado riding what could only be a tiger, as they broke out from the trees along the beach. Before he could think of a way to express his awe, the parrots attacked the longboat. Chaos ensued as more than one sailor attempted to swat away the feathered fiends with an oar, which had the longboat turning off course. Knowing that he couldn't risk swimming with his pack, and that he wouldn't leave it behind, Rokya adopted a low crouch and used his sheathed shortsword to defend himself from bombardment.