OOC note: This Progression was written as part of the Storyweb System, linked here. This post pertains to the activities of the Regalian Explorer's League. Those interested to partake in this roleplay in future missions should seek out the League to offer assistance in roleplay, to fully partake in future posts.
For two weeks the Peregrinus has been at sea, having boarded up a crew of the Empire's most talented to uncover a new mystery that quite literally appeared over night. Since the day of departure the bold Sir Maxence von Bruhl has sailed through cruel storms and past treacherous reefs. Discontent has been on the rise among the crew, they should've made landfall four days ago should the information be true. For half a day they've slowly slid through a thick mist, crewmembers are loudly distrusting the words of the locals, spitting out slurs like it were nothing. "Damned fishermen, probably saw nothing! Aint anything here but open water and endless mist.." Was scoffed out before the faint sound of seagulls became apparent. Twas all quiet on deck, the noise only growing more and more clear untill a voice from the crow's nest broke the crew's silence. "Land ho! Land ho!" The Count of the Angle Veer calls out, notching an arrow into his longbow as The Peregrinus gently breaks out of the mist and into the full view of the island.
On first glance the island is.. Quite unremarkable. Seabird nests dot the rocky landscape, with dark greens drawn around the island. The island stands tall, a steep cliffside leading up a cavern of some sort. The ship anchors by a big flat stone, the crew disembarking to set up camp in the nearby patch of grass. As Zaan Haaven comes closer, he notices the grass is actually dried up seaweed. Not just there, but everywhere. All over the island the vegetation consists of dry seaweed, kelp and dead corals. In puddles there are fish struggling for space, pushing the dead up to soak in the sun. Whatever happened on this island most certainly wasn't natural, yet no magical interference could be felt.
While tents are raised on the field of bone dry seaweed, talks of exploring more of the island before sunset come about. Tusrig Herdier and the other nature experts set out on their own to comb through the landscape for herbs and new plants, escorted by Mackenzy Rosswell and Lazarus Lupenzi. On every surface they went on the hike they had to deal with the same grime sitting the rock, every step of the way someone risking to slip and fall on the slippery stones. And with the first step on the hike, Tusrig's foot runs right off back, making him the first to kiss land on the journey since they left Narlas and the first to receive a hefty nosebleed. The man brushes the incident off, though has to endure the mild mockery of his fellow crewmembers as they continue along.
Half an hour passes, and on the backside of the island Sanasocala Lloablen feels her head grow light as the group sits down for a break. There is a peculiar smell that floats through the air, soon enough the others get the same sensation. The source of the scent becomes a thing of great urgency among them, scouring through the dead vegetation on the ground, eyes searching under corals. It doesn't take too long before Sansasocala discovers a turqoise mossy growth which secretes a most delightful scent. The longer she sits in its presence, the more she feels sleepiness take form. Barely able to resist the hypnotic effects, she struggles to keep her eyes open as her arms are on the verge of giving in and dropping her head first into the moss. Lazarus the bystander spots the weary Sansasocala, climbing over to see why the yanar decides to slack off this early. As he gets to the colleague his head becomes clouded as well, alas before he too becomes a victim of involuntary naptime he makes the startling discovery of thin, leechlike suckers slowly rising out of the moss to settle on the Yanar's face. With one hell of a jump he gets to her side, pulling her away by the scruff of the neck.
The worrisome growths cause a general retreat of the mini-expedition, realizing they're not ready to deal with such a fungal foe yet.
Back at basecamp there have been interested eyes obsessed with the cave atop the island. The steep hilltop is truly a menacing climb, but the keen eye of Eric Decimar catches glimpse of a very intriguing find hidden away in a crevice on the side of the island. An overgrown staircase. The crew as a whole make their way towards the mysterious find, quickly making note of how the stairs are cut directly from out of the mountain with incredible precision. Aside from natural erosion, the cuts are practically clean. A feat stonemasons in today's Empires cannot even accomplish. After a tiresome trek up the stairs, brushing away seaweeds and mussels as they went, they get to the entrance of the cave.
Greeting them at the top is a gaping hole dug into the side of the hill. Sitting in the back there is a great, black vault door. Metallurgist Nouveau Tempete and Magical expert Marvin Bethell venture towards the dimly dit door, their heads angled up to get the whole measure of the massive thing. Nouveau's analysis has her shaking her head in disbelief at the results.
It consists almost entirely out of metalitra. Complex mechanisms hold it bolted into the cold stone wall, and inscriptions reminiscent of void and ancient dwarven runes line the heavy blocks of metal. There is no entering here today, and with that they retreat to camp.
Into the later hours of the evening the crew are enjoying supper in their tents. Discussing their finds, their experiences, Tusrig's broken nose, the whole shebang. The screeching of seagulls is masked by the abundance of laughter and merriment coming from the tents, much to the advantage of a danger lurking disturbingly close. From the cave entrance eight stout figures, with skin made of a metal the world has never seen, are looking to the camp below. More and more join them as times goes by, several spyglasses aimed towards the tents.
As the laughter dies down Alexander Vauclain's attention appears to be taken by something, as he ventures towards the canvas opening to investigate. The man squints off to the distance, waving his hand at his colleagues. "Sshh..! Do you hear that?" He whispers to them, the entire tent growing silent. Murmurs from the mountain roll down to the camp, bringing more curious crewmembers out to see for themselves. The original eight at the cave had become thirty four, baring down the hill on what the moonlight suggests to be bathoggs with the agility of mountain goats. The strange, yet worrisome sight sends the camp into a disorderly retreat back to their ship, grabbing only necessities and whatever little research they've gotten done while Sir Maxence hollers at his crewmates to get on-board before the boar dwarves get them. The men and women toss their equipment onto the ship while the sails are dropped and the anchor raised with great haste.
In the nick of time, the League has found themselves in the safety of The Peregrinus, watching as the 'Boar Dwarves' sing victoriously as the explorers flee.
There appears to be a mystery behind every rock and shadow on this island, mysteries which must be uncovered with great preparation and wariness...
For two weeks the Peregrinus has been at sea, having boarded up a crew of the Empire's most talented to uncover a new mystery that quite literally appeared over night. Since the day of departure the bold Sir Maxence von Bruhl has sailed through cruel storms and past treacherous reefs. Discontent has been on the rise among the crew, they should've made landfall four days ago should the information be true. For half a day they've slowly slid through a thick mist, crewmembers are loudly distrusting the words of the locals, spitting out slurs like it were nothing. "Damned fishermen, probably saw nothing! Aint anything here but open water and endless mist.." Was scoffed out before the faint sound of seagulls became apparent. Twas all quiet on deck, the noise only growing more and more clear untill a voice from the crow's nest broke the crew's silence. "Land ho! Land ho!" The Count of the Angle Veer calls out, notching an arrow into his longbow as The Peregrinus gently breaks out of the mist and into the full view of the island.
On first glance the island is.. Quite unremarkable. Seabird nests dot the rocky landscape, with dark greens drawn around the island. The island stands tall, a steep cliffside leading up a cavern of some sort. The ship anchors by a big flat stone, the crew disembarking to set up camp in the nearby patch of grass. As Zaan Haaven comes closer, he notices the grass is actually dried up seaweed. Not just there, but everywhere. All over the island the vegetation consists of dry seaweed, kelp and dead corals. In puddles there are fish struggling for space, pushing the dead up to soak in the sun. Whatever happened on this island most certainly wasn't natural, yet no magical interference could be felt.
While tents are raised on the field of bone dry seaweed, talks of exploring more of the island before sunset come about. Tusrig Herdier and the other nature experts set out on their own to comb through the landscape for herbs and new plants, escorted by Mackenzy Rosswell and Lazarus Lupenzi. On every surface they went on the hike they had to deal with the same grime sitting the rock, every step of the way someone risking to slip and fall on the slippery stones. And with the first step on the hike, Tusrig's foot runs right off back, making him the first to kiss land on the journey since they left Narlas and the first to receive a hefty nosebleed. The man brushes the incident off, though has to endure the mild mockery of his fellow crewmembers as they continue along.
Half an hour passes, and on the backside of the island Sanasocala Lloablen feels her head grow light as the group sits down for a break. There is a peculiar smell that floats through the air, soon enough the others get the same sensation. The source of the scent becomes a thing of great urgency among them, scouring through the dead vegetation on the ground, eyes searching under corals. It doesn't take too long before Sansasocala discovers a turqoise mossy growth which secretes a most delightful scent. The longer she sits in its presence, the more she feels sleepiness take form. Barely able to resist the hypnotic effects, she struggles to keep her eyes open as her arms are on the verge of giving in and dropping her head first into the moss. Lazarus the bystander spots the weary Sansasocala, climbing over to see why the yanar decides to slack off this early. As he gets to the colleague his head becomes clouded as well, alas before he too becomes a victim of involuntary naptime he makes the startling discovery of thin, leechlike suckers slowly rising out of the moss to settle on the Yanar's face. With one hell of a jump he gets to her side, pulling her away by the scruff of the neck.
The worrisome growths cause a general retreat of the mini-expedition, realizing they're not ready to deal with such a fungal foe yet.
Back at basecamp there have been interested eyes obsessed with the cave atop the island. The steep hilltop is truly a menacing climb, but the keen eye of Eric Decimar catches glimpse of a very intriguing find hidden away in a crevice on the side of the island. An overgrown staircase. The crew as a whole make their way towards the mysterious find, quickly making note of how the stairs are cut directly from out of the mountain with incredible precision. Aside from natural erosion, the cuts are practically clean. A feat stonemasons in today's Empires cannot even accomplish. After a tiresome trek up the stairs, brushing away seaweeds and mussels as they went, they get to the entrance of the cave.
Greeting them at the top is a gaping hole dug into the side of the hill. Sitting in the back there is a great, black vault door. Metallurgist Nouveau Tempete and Magical expert Marvin Bethell venture towards the dimly dit door, their heads angled up to get the whole measure of the massive thing. Nouveau's analysis has her shaking her head in disbelief at the results.
It consists almost entirely out of metalitra. Complex mechanisms hold it bolted into the cold stone wall, and inscriptions reminiscent of void and ancient dwarven runes line the heavy blocks of metal. There is no entering here today, and with that they retreat to camp.
Into the later hours of the evening the crew are enjoying supper in their tents. Discussing their finds, their experiences, Tusrig's broken nose, the whole shebang. The screeching of seagulls is masked by the abundance of laughter and merriment coming from the tents, much to the advantage of a danger lurking disturbingly close. From the cave entrance eight stout figures, with skin made of a metal the world has never seen, are looking to the camp below. More and more join them as times goes by, several spyglasses aimed towards the tents.
As the laughter dies down Alexander Vauclain's attention appears to be taken by something, as he ventures towards the canvas opening to investigate. The man squints off to the distance, waving his hand at his colleagues. "Sshh..! Do you hear that?" He whispers to them, the entire tent growing silent. Murmurs from the mountain roll down to the camp, bringing more curious crewmembers out to see for themselves. The original eight at the cave had become thirty four, baring down the hill on what the moonlight suggests to be bathoggs with the agility of mountain goats. The strange, yet worrisome sight sends the camp into a disorderly retreat back to their ship, grabbing only necessities and whatever little research they've gotten done while Sir Maxence hollers at his crewmates to get on-board before the boar dwarves get them. The men and women toss their equipment onto the ship while the sails are dropped and the anchor raised with great haste.
In the nick of time, the League has found themselves in the safety of The Peregrinus, watching as the 'Boar Dwarves' sing victoriously as the explorers flee.
There appears to be a mystery behind every rock and shadow on this island, mysteries which must be uncovered with great preparation and wariness...
93 - Maxence leading the ship from Narlas to the island. Very good!
85 - Mackenzy Rosswell not slipping on the rocks.
44 - Lazarus Lupenzi not slipping on the rocks.
40 - Tusrig Herdier's busted nose after slipping on the rocks. What a lad haha
86 - Zaan Haaven not slipping on the rocks
49 - Sanasocala Lloablen not slipping on the rocks
34 - The crew discovers weird, chloroform puffing, carnivorous moss.
78 - Eric looking at things.
62 - Nouveau clarifying that the metal door is indeed made of metal.
85 - Mackenzy Rosswell not slipping on the rocks.
44 - Lazarus Lupenzi not slipping on the rocks.
40 - Tusrig Herdier's busted nose after slipping on the rocks. What a lad haha
86 - Zaan Haaven not slipping on the rocks
49 - Sanasocala Lloablen not slipping on the rocks
34 - The crew discovers weird, chloroform puffing, carnivorous moss.
78 - Eric looking at things.
62 - Nouveau clarifying that the metal door is indeed made of metal.
