singillppl | December 2023 Test Drive Meme

Entry tags:

December 2023 Test Drive Meme

DECEMBER 2023 TDM

PROMPT ONE — ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST: A new group of arrivals find themselves lost in the frozen wilds and vulnerable to the dangers of nature. With luck, they make it to the town of Milton, and to a friendly face offering food, warmth and shelter — not to mention the fact they are not the first to come here.

PROMPT TWO — MISTY FALLS CAVE: The Interlopers go out in search of a hidden cave in the mountains found by Methuselah, which may still contain the hidden stash of a doomsday prepper. However, they get a little more than they bargained for when they venture inside.

PROMPT THREE — SERPENT'S BREATH: Interlopers investigate the mysterious cause of whatever is killing and poisoning the wildlife and vegetation of the area — and discover a supernatural creature is behind it.

ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST

WHEN: Mid-Decmber.
WHERE: Milton, Milton Outskirts.
CONTENT WARNINGS: potential animal attacks, potential injuries, potential cold injuries/hyperthermia risk.

'You are the Interloper. You are not part of nature’s design.'

It’s the last thing you hear. A dark, deep voice. Impossibly ancient. You feel afraid. Maybe you’re dreaming, maybe you’re wide awake. You saw the lights, and then your world went dark. But you hear it in the blackness, you won’t forget those words.

You awaken. You are not where you were before. It’s different for everyone, there doesn’t seem to be much of a pattern in where you find yourself. You may open your eyes to find yourself in a cold, dim and dank cabin. The air is stale, dust hangs in the rays of weak sunlight that shine through the tiny windows. Someone lived here once, but they aren’t to be found. You look around, it seems like no one has been here in a long time. The fire is cold, the dishes in the sink are pretty mouldy. It is quiet. The wood creaks around you. Or perhaps you may awaken to find yourself shivering in the yawning maw of a cave, the freezing stone below you. Or maybe you’re unfortunate enough to sit up to find yourself lying in the snow, in the middle of the wilderness. Snow lies thick around you. It’s freezing out. You haven’t felt a cold like this before in your entire life. Cruel and biting. You have no idea where you are, and what’s worse — you are completely alone.

You may feel different, too. Any powers or magics you may have feel... absent. Disconnected. Things that may not have affected you previously now do. Something in you has changed.

You know you can’t stay where you are. You’ll need to move, try to work out where you are and how you came to be here. So you walk, head out into the unknown, in hope of finding a trail or a road. You’ll find one soon enough. It’s here you may find someone else in the same boat as yourself, equally freezing and confused. You’ll both need to keep going. It won’t be easy. You hear howls of wolves around you, and the terrain is difficult: slips and falls are likely. You’re completely vulnerable out here in the open.

It’s possible you may come across someone here. Another fellow Interloper, out hunting or gathering. They’ll likely offer help and get you into town. However, for the unlucky ones who don’t come across anyone, you’ll carry on until you see it: the lazy trail of smoke rising in the air. Fire. Not just one, but several. Civilisation…?

Follow it, and soon enough the way you’ve taken will certainly become a path or road. Unfolding before you in the mountainous forests, you’ll see the most welcome of sights: a small mining town tucked up in the valley. Battered, rusted road signs will direct to “MILTON, POP. 947”. You’re almost there, you keep going, and it looks like other people have had the same idea as you. In fact, you’ll hear the muffled sounds of life. People. In The town!

As you head into the outskirts and further into town, you’ll find it’s a little easier to walk but the cold has gripped you hard. You’ll find the buildings, both shops and homes, some are dark and lifeless, some of them are boarded up, some of them are occupied. People are going about their business, or stood watching from their tiny porches of their small, timber homes. For a town this big, there doesn’t seem to be many people.

Towards the center of town, you’ll find the building from which the biggest of the smoke trail rises: a school-house of sorts, or some kind of community hall. Perhaps both. You’ll find more and more people all drawn to this place, each and every one of them in the same position as yourself (and your companion, if you’ve found one). Some are in worse states than others: some are bloodied, nursing bite wounds or cuts; others might have some other kind of injury sustained in the journey here from falls. Others may look as if they could faint from the cold at any second.

The door opens, and you’re greeted by the gnarled, wizened face of an elderly man, dressed in thick furs. He has a kind face. He smiles warmly, and with pity, ushering you in with haste.

“Ah, even more, still. Just as I thought.” he muses. “I wonder if this is perhaps the new status quo. I am Methuselah. I welcome you Newcomer, although I’m sorry for how you’ve come to find yourself here. You are not the only one, the lights are changing things. They bring more of you every so often. Come. Mother Nature has not been kind to you, but there are plenty here to help.”

The room is dim, lit only by natural daylight through the windows. A roaring fire sits at one end of the huge hall. It crackles, bright and cheerful…. and warm. Even as big as this place is, the room is pleasantly warm. You’ll also find basic cots set up down one side of the hall, places to rest for a moment and get your bearings, or just trying to recover from the cold. Down the other side are tables and chairs, and long tables with food, drinks and bottled water similar to one might find at a soup kitchen. Once again, Methuselah offers a feast, aided by some of the other Interlopers.

There are canisters with hot herbal teas and coffee, along with soup and stew and trays of charred deer and rabbit meats, plus grilled fish. There's also things like instant mashed potatoes, and tinned vegetables. It’s very basic, but it’s hot and filling. A feast, although newcomers will note from others who have been here some time that this particular feast is less bountiful this time.

Methuselah will continue to busy himself, still; there is plenty to do. He will fetch blankets, tend to wounds, serve food and drinks. He does not have much time to talk. More and more people seem to be coming in from the cold. He will not stop to sit and rest until everyone is seen to, taking up a place by the fire to gaze silently into its flames. He is troubled, thoughtful.

He will encourage newcomers to get warm and eat, and when they are ready to — they can explore the time and find one of the many empty homes to call their own. He will not speak much, but perhaps you might be able to get some answers from those fellow arrivals who’ve been in this place for some time now.

However, he will speak of something important, and will gladly share with others: “I have been looking for something for you all. There was once a townsfolk I knew of: Matthew. A suspicious, paranoid old miner who was interested in Prepping. He often spoke of the world coming to an end and strived to survive it. He often spoke of a cache hidden in the mountains, where he collected things of value. I have found the place, a hidden cave, but I am unable to get through, myself.”

… Well, he is an old man, after all.

“There are signs outside, so it is promising it is still intact. Perhaps the cache is still there. It might provide something useful for your growing numbers.”

MISTY FALLS CAVE

WHEN: Mid-month, onwards.
WHERE: Milton Outskirts.
CONTENT WARNINGS: booby traps; claustrophobic situations; potential injury/maiming; potential hyperthermic situations; exploration horror;

Methuselah gives directions to those willing to check out the lead for the old prepper cache. Following the river up from Milton Basin will lead to rugged, difficult pathways up towards Misty Falls — a waterfall, the river source itself. Most of the river is completely frozen with the freezing temperatures, but it is not completely so the closer to the source you go. Misty Falls is certainly idyllic, or it would be perhaps on a fine summer’s day — good for a nice hike. But the place looks desolate in the eternal winter cursing the Northern Territories.

The half-frozen waterfall is a din of sound, but the water itself is incredibly fresh and cooling for those hot and tired from the hike up. Those paying attention might notice a small space between the water and rock, big enough to squeeze through to get behind the waterfall itself. In the small space, the entrance to a small cave can be found. There are faded handmade signs, all in the same hand, reading ‘DANGER KEEP OUT’ and it isn’t too far of a stretch to wonder if perhaps this might be the secret stash of the old miner that Methuselah spoke of.

Venturing into the cave will not be an easy task. It seems the old miner was keen to keep any trespassers out, and most of this comes down to the cave itself. The walls of the cave quickly narrow, with only enough space to walk in single file. Jutting stone will easily make those stumble and trip. Occasionally the cave’s passage becomes narrower, meaning one might have to stoop or even crawl to carry on through. Here and there, the uneven floor dips, and your feet will find themselves in shin-deep frigid water. It’s slow-going, even if the actual passage itself isn’t incredibly long.

But perhaps the worst of all is the pressing darkness. A darkness so black even with lanterns switched off, one’s eyes cannot adjust to it. It is smothering, pressing. The air is stale and damp, you feel small — and the cave itself still presses in on you. The miner also kept a few tricks up his sleeve in order to keep out intruders. There are dead-ends, making it easy to get lost. Trip wires are hidden in the darkness, causing small man-made cave-ins to fall upon unsuspecting heads.

It might be safer, saner to give up and turn back. But persevering will see the cave opening up once more, this time widening into a room. The place is fashioned into some crude shelter. There is furniture, lanterns to be lit.

With more light, the miner’s stash is revealed: the painstaking, time-costing work of a paranoid old recluse. Crates of non-perishable foods, MREs, and bottled water. Medicines and basic medical supplies, flares and tools.

A perfect supply of survival goods, ripe for the taking.

SERPENT'S BREATH

WHEN: Throughout the month.
WHERE: The entirety of the Milton area.
CONTENT WARNINGS: mentions of dead animals; malevolent creature; snakes/serpents; poison/airborne toxins; potential poisonings; potential burn injuries; potential (temporary) blinding.

It’s noticed in different ways: perhaps a trail of dead animals stands before you, each one with no particular injury other than what appears to be burned hides and flesh — it is as if the wildlife simply dropped dead, for the most part. Perhaps you notice huge, tunnel-like grooves in the deepest parts of the snow, a few feet in width — as if something long and thick had made its way through to clear a path. More worryingly for some, they might notice trails of rot: destroyed trees, decaying plant life, as if the very earth itself has been scorched in the wake of something passing through, leaving nothing but destruction and devastation.

Something is destroying the flora and fauna of the world. There seems to be no pattern, simply the random trails all over the place. There appears to be no other tracks, other than the long, smooth tunnel-like pathways. Whatever it is, it must be stopped. Resources are so precious in this world, if the beast is allowed to continue then all who live here will soon starve due to lack of animals to hunt and plants to gather.

Following the tunnels is a sure-way to hunt the beast down, although these paths will lead far from town. It is best to go prepared. But soon enough, you may come across the slumbering beast, curled up on the snow or coiled underneath some jutting space of stone along the mountains. You’ll hear and smell it before you see it: the long grumbling snores as it sleeps, and the putrid stench of rot. Everything in you tells you to flee, much like when an animal senses something toxic, or poisoning.

You press on, finally stumbling across the beast: a long, serpent-like dragon, with tremendous horns and fangs, coloured with muted grey scales and huge, glowing, flamed eyes.

The element of surprise will work in your favour to try and kill the beast, but it will give up a good fight. It will take several rounds of fights with it before it will finally be taken down permanently. It moves quickly, with scales like steel. Its eyes and mouth are its weakest spots, as is the soft underbelly of its body — fire will work well on harming this beast, especially with a well aimed shot into its mouth.

Its open mouth is where it holds its most powerful weapon. Not the fangs, no. The very reason why the air smells of rot, why the wildlife lay dead, why the earth decays at your feet: its breath. The beast’s breath is highly toxic, it will burn the skin of those it comes into contact with. Breathing in the fumes will poison those who breathe it in, and will cause a weakening, sickly illness. The breath may even temporarily blind.

These injuries are not fatal, and will heal with time and the basic medical attention available in the world. Victims will require rest for at least a week, depending on how severe the blast of the serpent’s breath. But killing the best will ensure its havoc is brought to an end.

FAQs

ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST

1. Arrival threads can be treated as game canon.

2. Items characters have brought from home can be found either strewn around them when they awaken, or in the community hall — as if someone left them out for them to collect. Methuselah will not know how they got there, and will be quite bemused by the happenings.

3. Reminder that all characters are now depowered upon arrival. They can choose not to notice it at first, or can immediately sense something is different about them.

4. If asked any personal questions, Methuselah will smile and say "Oh, you don't want to know about an old man like me. But I have lived all over in these parts for all my life." He will be more concerned with trying to help Newcomers, and is genuinely concerned for them and their well-being. Other Interlopers will say much of the same — there's little to know about him.

5. More information about Milton can be found here.

MISTY FALLS CAVE

1. Tools found would be basic survival/camping tools one might expect: knives, hand axes, rope, handsaws, torches, batteries, etc.

SERPENT'S BREATH

1. The Stoor Worm, or Mester Stoor Worm, was a gigantic evil sea serpent of Orcadian folklore, capable of contaminating plants and destroying animals and humans with its putrid breath. Assipattle, the youngest son of a local farmer, defeated the creature by flinging still-burning peat into its mouth. As it died its teeth fell out to become the islands of Orkney, Shetland and the Faroes, and its body became Iceland.

2. It is possible the harvest the beast once it is killed, particularly for its fangs and skin. The skin/scales will provide ample protection to try to use it for armouring themselves. The fangs would provide useful for crafting knives or weapons.

3. It is... technically possible to eat the meat of the beast. Care should be taken in butchering, however. And it is not advised to eat the head.

TALES FROM THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES NEWSLETTER

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Which is why bards still make a living!

[Very cheerfully.]

Who can resist the allure of being remade through art? You can be anyone and anything in a song. When the music begins, you need only close your eyes to transform.

If we find this serpent, will you immortalize your own deeds in song?

[If they survive, but she's not going to be the one to sour the mood.]

Our deeds.

[It isn't just a matter of humility - it's fact. There's only so much a magic-less halfling can do against a massive monster. Whatever happens at the beast's lair, he knows he'll need her to survive it.]

And naturally. You'll have to come up with a heroic moniker before we slay the creature.

[Randvi laughs.] If you choose your epithet before the battle, how are you meant to honour your victory?

There's no harm in a bit of creative preparation. Call it... drafting! We must see which titles roll off the tongue, and which fall flat like a plucked pigeon.

Many of my people’s epithets are based on appearances, so if we throw the bones poorly I may wind up Randvi One-Hand.

That's a mighty plucked pigeon if I've ever heard one. It's far more fashionable to lose an eye than a hand.

[renny you aren't suggesting she lose an eye instead are you]

[Her own joke will be much less funny once her husband's arm is cut off by an evil wizard, but that's all in the future.]

It's a bit presumptuous to imagine sharing a name with a god. Perhaps I'll be the second Snake-In-The-Eye.

Snake-In-The-Eye... it does have some folksy charm. But what an odd name for a deity. What domain do they preside over?

The god Odin, the All-Father, is sometimes known as One-Eye, because he sacrificed one of his eyes to Mimir so that he could drink from the well of knowledge.

Sigurd Snake-In-The-Eye is a hero, but a mortal one. He has a marking on his eye that gave him his name.

[Renny laughs.]

Well, there you have it! It's not presumptuous to borrow the common traits of myths and legends. Sigurd Snake-In-The-Eye did just that, didn't he? All good stories build upon the foundations laid by those before.

[Randvi laughs too.] I suppose that's one way to think of it.

[Suddenly she stops.] Oh, look at that.

[A huge, fresh tunnel in the snow.]

[Ah. Their quarry is close. Renny switches from jovial to serious in an instant. He scans their surroundings first, one hand hovering over his rapier. They've entered the mountains proper, where the snow's begun to thin out as it mixes with the rock. The tunnel doesn't go as deep as the previous ones and it reeks of a dead thing.

There's only one way to go. The signs are clear on where the creature's gone to rest.]

Light steps.

[Because not far from them is an alcove of rock - a glimmer of steely scales-]

[Randvi nods, suddenly aware of the heat of her body, her sweat, the things an animal might be able to sense from her. She’s feeling a bit like the rabbits herself, or like the girl sacrifices in the story, but it's not the same. They can fight.]

Yes. Strike true.

[She takes a deep breath, and slowly, they approach. Curled up as it is, the creature is too large to seem real. Its scales shimmer like oil. In any other circumstances it would be beautiful.

The air is acrid around them with the beast’s caustic breath, and Randvi covers her mouth, trying not to give them away by coughing.]

[Two plucky heroes, off to slay a dragon - what a tale this will make, should they live to tell it. Renny is no stranger to monster hunting, but he has never been without his magic. Where steel failed, his songs provided. There is no such grace here. Their wits must be just as sharp, least they become carrion for the next hunters to find.

The snake-thing breathes slow and deep. They're only a few feet away from it now. Renny casts a look about. The rocky outcropping the serpent sleeps beneath is a good twenty feet above them, providing shade and cover. There are boulders dotting the jagged path leading to the outcropping, worn by the serpent's acidic breath, with a few large evergreens scattered about. Skeletons, too, of past victims.

With great care, Renny unsheathes his rapier. He motions to the serpent's mouth. That will be their biggest problem - they need to figure a way out to close it.]

[Randvi considers the scene, then motions to the broad-headed war hammer on her belt. She hadn't thought a blunt weapon would have much utility in this fight, but if she can get up high enough she could strike a heavy blow that would give Renny a chance to move in.

More hesitantly, she also indicates the crude bow she's carrying on her back. Hitting anywhere unarmored on the beast would be a trick shot, and she’d have been much more confident in making it five years ago when she used her bow more regularly.

Randvi raises her eyebrows. Either way, it's him who will take the brunt of the retaliation if this doesn't work (the creature will certainly be awake either way) so she leaves the decision to him.]

[Right. A blow to disorient it, followed up by a blade through its jaw - it may not be the easiest to do, but it's their best shot. The bow would be riskier. After thinking it over, Renny motions towards the war hammer.

He's ready whenever she is.]

[Randvi nods, then moves to scramble up the nearest of the large rocks to give herself some extra force. As a girl, she had helped to take down a maddened bear with these tactics, and hopefully here that's enough.

She waits for Renny to get into position then leaps, striking the beast directly between its eyes with a clangour like an axe against armor. She barely has time to register a giant eye opening before she's rolling out of the way.]

Now!

[When Randvi begins to climb, Renny sucks in a slow, quiet breath. There won't be time for hesitation once she strikes. Killing monsters was what he did for a living - but he'd never killed one this large without his music. Stay focused, he tells himself, and all will be well.

Randvi leaps-

(-the world narrows. the acrid stink of the serpent's breath thickens, as if in anticipation. in the midst of the adrenaline that surges through renny, a center of calm precision. his legs move of their own accord-)

-her hammer strikes-

(-the serpent rears its head to intimidate these new intruders. an opening, between its rising jaw and the ground, too small for most humans, but for a halfling-)

-and Renny dives forward, his rapier a shimmering needle. With all his might, he thrusts the blade above him. He feels the top of his hands sink into the new wound. Red spurts. The serpent whips its head, its mouth sealed by the rapier - the very tip of the weapon peeks out from its upper mouth, but it isn't deep enough to hold. It's doing everything to shake its attacker off, and Renny holds on for dear life.]

[Randvi strikes the serpent’s armoured body uselessly with her hammer until the thrashing drives her back. She stares, mind whirling: if it gets its mouth open now, Renny will be in deep trouble.

An idea dawns. A terrible one, perhaps, but only if it doesn't work. She pulls a small whittling knife from a pouch at her belt, then drops to her knees, sawing at the left sleeve of her shirt.]

Hold on!

[He just needs to buy her a minute or two.]

Glaaaaa- [up he goes, and by Lathander's light, it is taking all his strength to hold on] -aaadly!

[The serpent rears again, fighting to push its mouth open. Renny manages to wedge his hand between its spongy gums, using it for purchase, but hells does it burn. He quickly snatches his hand away.]

[The next wild swing of the creature’s neck reveals Randvi with a large scrap of blue cloth wrapped around an arrow, frantically striking two stones together.

The moment it catches, she's on her feet and drawing her bow, a wild look in her eyes.]

Jump! Draw it toward me!

[Renny has an idea of what she's going to do. He'll trust her, because there's nothing more he can do here other than to hang on. He grits his teeth and when the serpent's next thrash reaches just the right angle, he uses its momentum to launch himself towards Randvi.

He hits the ground hard enough to feel it in all his bones. Tumbles, but lands close enough to Randvi for the serpent to whip its head her way, its sealed mouth pulled back in a furious hiss-]

[Don’t think about it, just do it. She’s made this shot before, and others through smaller hoops.

Randvi hears the sound of Renny’s landing, tilts herself back to account for the extra weight on the arrow, then, just as the serpent lunges to scorch them with as much of its noxious breath as it can with limited movement in its jaw, she fires.

The whole world seems to freeze for a moment, then shatters with a terrible shriek as the creature begins to emit great gouts of black smoke.]

Find shelter!

[The worm in the story had thrashed so hard and produced so much smoke that the people had thought the world was ending. That's surely enough to bring that outcropping down on top of them.]

[Renny, with his heart beating hard against his sore ribs, head light from the adrenaline coursing through his veins, takes a second to register Randvi's words. Find, he hears, right after the piercing shriek, and it's years of adventuring experience that saves his ass.

Cover - the boulders - can't be too close to the beast. Renny scrambles to safety not a moment too soon. The serpent, screaming and belching the last of its life's breath, contorts in one last, great agony and falls.

The thunder of impact. Then, ringing silence. Snow, disturbed, spirals in flurries. The serpent does not move. Renny peers out from behind the boulder. Is Randvi okay?]

December 2023 Test Drive Meme

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

a mimir...... https://tinyurl.com/5awjtrwd

Re: a mimir...... https://tinyurl.com/5awjtrwd

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)