Mokley

STONES

Ok now I'm done! :D

STONES

Ah crap I hit send too soon, I'm editing in @SiliconColt's section, hang on! XD

STONES

Lila's unique physiology made ascending the tree a simple task and when she reached the ruby she pulled to free it from the bark.

Lila

The moment the ruby was removed, the tree was not a tree.

The bark and leaves and branches flickered once like a broken hologram. The tree was gone altogether, and Lila was instead clinging to a dark stone pillar with glowing runes carved along its length, with a small empty socket where the ruby had been a moment ago.

The flowers all around suddenly closed their petals.

The statue had disappeared from its pedestal. It now stood before A'shinok, with its stone sword pointed at his chest. The statue was of the same dark stone as Lila's glowing pillar. It was carved in the shape of a human man in leather studded armor, wearing a helmet in the shape of a dog's head. The statue was entirely lifeless and motionless, yet inches from a deadly blow.

Through the sockets of his skull, Clavic would see something that no one else could see: the shadows! The very same person-shaped shadows that had watched from the hilltop and had moved in their peripheral -- to Clavic, a dozen shadows wandered among the trees. Each of them stopped every so often, looked around, and walked back, as if they were guards posted on watch -- but none of the shadows saw the travelers at all.

There were other rubies embedded in the trees: seven in total, in a circle around the central white pillar, should one look carefully for the spark of sunlight on the gems.

The magpie flapped with a flash of wings, and it lighted on Nel's shoulder with a gentle grasp. It made a creaking noise deep in its throat -- even for the strange sounds of the magpie, that sound was most uncommon. "Push the button!" the bird squeaked excitedly into Nel's ear, bouncing just a little. "Push it push it!"

The spiral in the great white pillar had begun to glow just slightly, the same hue as the runes of Lila's dark pillar.

"Take my hand, I'll pull you up." he called out with his right hand tightly gripped to the nearest object and the other stretched out like the branch of a tree during a storm -which is to say wildly flailing because Grom isn't exactly the smoothest ride.

Leon

Kettle ran alongside Grom's tail, stretched out her fingers and grasped Leon's wrist as it flailed past her. With gritted teeth she caught a saddlebag with her other hand and hauled herself up behind Leon, clinging to him for balance.
"GROM! HEEL!" she screamed past Leon's ear while she grabbed for the reins that flapped in the wind.

Grom suddenly stopped. Leon and Kettle lurched and tumbled over Grom's head and fell into a muddy creek.

"Damned . . . no good . . . cameldragon . . ." were only the least colorful words Kettle chose to describe the steed who had just caused a great deal more trouble than she'd bargained for.

Her back was turned to the thing that had caused Grom to stop.

It was a moss-covered statue, centuries old and big as a house. The enormous sculpture had spines and claws and folded wings, and was curled into itself as if sleeping. Its sharp stone jaws were open, and in its mouth was a glimmering ruby.

All the flowers around them had closed their petals.

In the corner of Leon's eye he would see a shadow move.

The Bawdy Dog

@AgentFallenSoul@SilverWolfAngel@ArenaSnow@karamonnom@SyrianHamster@NorthernGR

I plan to post soon, with something more individualized for each of your characters. If anyone's got something to write beforehand, please give a shout.

STONES

@drewccapp Sorry to see such an insane character go, but I totally understand. :)

I admit with every RP I'm experimenting with different methods of modding -- this one seems to be dragging more than it could be, which means there are a few things I'm trying out that are making things harder on everyone. So, I'll quit mucking about and just get on with it.

Who is actually still here? Give a shout! I'll make another post to jumpstart this thing, but I need to know which characters are here. Say aye!

The Bawdy Dog

@NorthernGR Absolutely will do! I promise not to get him killed . . . too badly. Get well soon!

Lantern

I got no idea where this goes from here, guys -- decisions must be made and potential fates chosen!

What I mean is, there's no wrong answer. Only plot.

STONES

@SiliconColt The boys seem to have been very silent all around, really. Nobody wanted to be first to write, I suspect. ;)

But there are a few hours of walking that could potentially be filled by joint posting, if you're inclined.

STONES

Woods

---

"Ah!" He exclaimed with a grin on his face. "Good morning, Kettle! I was wondering what can be expected on this journey. One can never be too careful of course!"

Croft

Kettle pulled tight the last pack on Grom's back and laid a gloved hand against the beast's neck. "I honestly have no idea what to expect, Croft." She turned toward him and pushed her hood down to her shoulders; she had slept little but was brimming with energy; her expression was not quite as kind as it had been the night before -- in the back of her mind, she was concerned about the billows of fog that hung over the marsh in their path. "As far as I know, no one has gone this way before. You had best keep your guard up, and stay close. It looks like visibility will be low this morning."

Movement in the corner of her eye drew her attention to Leon. For a moment, Kettle studied him as if he were a puzzle that needed to be solved. There was absolutely no way Leon was going to trek across the mud and muck with that peg leg -- he had to have realized it, himself.

Kettle's original plan had been to use Grom only as a pack animal, as evidenced by the volume of bags and boxes that had been strapped to cameldragon -- but it seemed there was one more duty her faithful steed would have to undertake.

Kettle looped Grom's reins in one hand and gestured with them to Leon. "Leon, you're riding the lead," she told him factually, with no room for argument. She didn't explain her decision, nor did she invite questions: the look on her face told him that the decision was made and he would be riding Grom into the forest.

Grom turned his head lazily, chewing, and huffed a dull sigh.

7 am

---

After a quick breakfast the company gathered in the weeds outside the veranda. Kettle noted without surprise that there were fewer here now than had been at dinner. She had expected at least a few to turn back after her speech the previous night; the reality of their missing faces only steeled her resolve to move forward.

Kettle draped the hood over her head again and picked up her spear. She scanned the faces of everyone who was left -- her own eyes had hardened, and she stood straighter than she had the previous night. She knew they were being watched; she could see nothing beyond the distant fog and the dark mountains behind them, but someone, somewhere was watching.

"Where we're going, no one has been in centuries," she announced to them all. "I don't have a map, and I don't know what we might find past the treeline, only that we should make for the heart of the woods. I ask that you all stay close; Leon, if you will, we'll follow your lead." Atop Grom, Leon would sit far higher than the rest of them -- he would have a view of the path (or lack thereof) much farther than the rest of them, and would therefore be best equipped to direct their movements.

Frogs creaked and birds cackled all around them; the foggy morning was chill and damp, and the mud squelched under their feet. There was no road here -- the traveled paths had ended at the café door.

7:30 am

---

The creak and croak of crickets and toads filled the mist; puddles of murky water reflected gray skies and rippled from beneath; long-legged birds looked on in the distance; fireflies glimmered on the stalks of thick weeds. Grom squelched and splashed ahead at a leisurely pace. Mushroom-fairies lighted on the supply packs and rested there, wings shimmering.

As they drew closer to the twin hills at the northernmost edge of the marsh, the lines of trees began to take shape out of the mist. The trees that had seemed perfectly average from a distance proved to be enormous in girth and stature; like giants themselves, the moss-thick trees towered high overhead, and the company had still yet to reach them.

The sun rose higher behind the clouds, and enormous bright flowers blossomed; their huge red, yellow and orange petals -- each the length of a man's arm -- seemed to shimmer in the fog, like bursts of fire on the marsh.

8:00 am

---

The expedition passed between two high hills that marked the end of the wetlands. The ground was finally dry and solid under their feet -- but the fog still shifted and billowed gray around them.

Through the mist, high atop the hill to their right, something dark and misshapen stared down at them. It shifted and quivered -- and in a blink it was gone, replaced by only the moving fog.

The sunlight shifted and warmed as it filtered through the boughs of the impossibly high trees. The fiery flowers bloomed gigantic here, each monstrous enough to envelop a person in its petals. Their perfume filled the air, sweet and thick like honeyed cinnamon. Eventually the fog dissipated, and the sun trickled brightly through the breaks in the leaves, illuminating lichen-thick boulders and moss-heavy roots.

10:00 am

---

The way ahead remained clear and wide; the marsh had been left far behind them, and all was quiet save for the sigh of wind in the leaves high above. The flat, dry ground only offered the occasional boulder or stream to make their trek occasionally difficult, and once they were forced to change course in order to navigate the huge girth of a fallen tree, but otherwise there seemed to be no reason at all this forest could have a reputation for being anything but a pleasant walk.

Noon

---

Everything was just the same as it had been since they had entered the forest. They weren't walking in circles -- each tree was slightly different from the last and the angle of the sun was changing -- but the deeper they walked into the woods the less likely it seemed there would be anything here worth finding. The stench of the flowers, at first pleasant, was now sickeningly sweet. Their feet ached from their trek across hard ground. All around were still only trees, and moss, and flowers, and rocks, and no sign at all that any person -- let alone civilization -- had ever set foot in this entirely safe, bright, sleepy forest.

Leon would see it first: a white glimmer of stone between the trees in the distance to their right.

It was an enormous pillar of jagged white rock. It was twice as wide as the biggest of the monstrous trees, and its sharpened tip disappeared in the clouds high above the canopy. The pillar, as peculiar as it was, appeared to be of natural origin. Nowhere would they find any trace of toolwork, human or otherwise -- except for something weathered carved into the stone at eye-level, the size of a hand. With some examination, it could be determined to be a spiral, chiseled into the pillar centuries ago.

Grom suddenly huffed, jumped, and bolted past the jagged pillar and into the woods beyond, whether or not Leon was still on his back.

"Grom!" Kettle cried. The cameldragon lumbered and leaped with a terrified speed no one had ever thought possible, leaving a few bags of spilled supplies in his wake. His scaly orange tail disappeared between the trees, with Kettle chasing full-tilt after him, calling and whistling.

Behind them -- should one turn around to see what had spooked Grom -- the trees were entirely different from where they had been a moment ago. They were of the same type, with the same moss and flowers as all the rest, but the way back was no longer obvious, and nothing looked familiar except the pillar of stone.

A magpie bobbed on a low root. It fluffed its feathers and tipped its head. It had a dark spiral on its chest.

In the woods to the left, something bright gleamed in the sunlight. A ruby was embedded high in the bark of a tree; it flashed every time the sun peeked through the leaves.

In the woods to the right was a clearing full of little white flowers. At its center stood a dark stone statue.

In the corner of your eye, you see something dark and shifting, staring at you from behind with faceless eyes.

Blink, and it's gone.

Just your average tavern thread (where the tavern's burning and being besieged by zombies)

@SyrianHamster Hey there!

This RP actually started out very honestly as an average meet-n-greet tavern RP. Then people started fighting, PCs started dying, then the zombies showed up to try and break up the fight . . .

Anyway, all you really need to know is in the very most recent post in the IC. Things escalated so bad that the tavern has actually collapsed in flames.

If you're still interested, your character could have been in the tavern all along and is running out of it with everyone else, or you're arriving from outside of town only to see your favorite tavern in flames, a few ash-covered PCs coughing outside of it, and a moderate horde of zombies heading toward them.