FEBRUARY EVENT LOG

[monstertruckers]

code

The Convoy begins a slow path through the forest, and a long road winding between the trees. The vegetation hangs thick overhead, with a perpetual state of dim light hanging over the surroundings. Sunlight and moonlight both have a hard time piercing the gloom. And alongside that is a sense of danger looming in the shadows.

01: DEPARTURE/MINGLE

Dawn arrives after a long and demanding night. As wane sunlight leaks through the forest, the forcefield flickers out. In its place, the Convoy hums to life. Engines thrum, breakfast appears in the dining car, and the speakers crackle with a pre-recorded, automated voice.

“The Convoy will depart in three hours. Please ready yourself for the trip. Secure your belongings, prepare your vehicle, remain as human as possible. End destination… Nirvana. Repeat, the Convoy will depart in three hours.”

The recording drones on a loop, before fading out in a crackle of static. Before departure there’s a few matters to attend to, some more pressing than others:
+Breakfast consists of bland porridge. Some might want better food, and with a decently stocked kitchen, one can make better.
+The showers have lost any hot water. Surely there’s some way to fix the heater or provide some hot water? Or otherwise grumble through a cold shower.
+There’s plant growth where the Husks have been felled. Flowering vines grow over the Convoy, and need to be pruned for departure. The foliage has an odd effect if directly touched, instilling wanderlust and curiosity. The affected feel compelled to wander… Or be curious about others!

02: HAUNTED GROVE

The trees grow into a tangle just a few paces off the road. They almost envelop the buildings, absorbing the structures until only the roofs are visible. The branches become more twisted, and almost arm-like when reaching out to you.

Vines hang like nooses from the trees. And a closer look shows moss ridden Husks draped in the branches. Still, those who ignore those ominous signs can find supplies growing and hanging from the branches; repair materials, and unnerving types of food like canned ham and frozen pizza.

And then… There’s the effect from staying in the shade of the trees for too long. There’s a lethargy that clings to you, even as it eases the changes wracking your body. Resting underneath the grove can heal a Drifter of one change, and leave them feeling soothed… But all of this is by design. The grove WANTS you to stay there and become a part of it, so that it can ensnare you with vines or absorb you into trees. It can restore Drifters, but if they stay there for too long they’re going to need some rescuing.

03: WRECK

There’s a collection of abandoned cars in the forest clearings. Some cars are better preserved than others, some even containing cargo, weapons, and ammo, with a possibility to scavenge equipment off them…

…If not for the traps, set around the wreckage in the form of steel jaw bear traps and snares. All of them are coated in something that leaves the vision blurry and sets hearts into overdrive. If exposed to too much of it, there’s suddenly a reason for that near panic; hallucinations of fears can easily flare up.

There’s also things prowling the wreckage on four metallic canine legs, with gleaming chrome teeth and red headlights for eyes. The guidance computers on nearby vehicles flash an alert as they draw close; identifying them as chromehounds, though these have seen better days. Dented, damaged, but still fierce enough. And still ready to pounce on anyone caught in the traps or drugged with fear toxin.

While the chromehounds can be dispatched, the fear toxin will have to run its course. Closer examination of the hounds and traps shows an insignia of a sword piercing the moon.

03-A: MONSTER NEST

Hostile beasts lurk in the woods. Many are cautious, nocturnal creatures that prefer to emerge at night, and hunt any Drifter who has strayed outside the reach of the Convoy forcefield.

A massive monster nest dwells in a crumbling, abandoned overpass in the middle of the forest. The Convoy does its best to give the area a wide berth, but it’s entirely possible Drifters might still stumble across it: particularly if some of the more annoying creatures like Great Jagras steal food and take it back to the den.

Many of the beasts make their dens in abandoned vehicles littering the overpass: Jagras and Slicemargl take up the better spots, while noxicaps and scavengers linger on the fringes. But the most territorial are the mutant bears, occupying the darker parts of the underpass.

04: SHRINE

The moon glows balefully overhead some nights. An eerie light glows across the sky, like a burning aurora that exacerbates any symptoms the Drifters have picked up this month. Sometimes the trees help to muffle this maddening light. But not always.

There is however a remedy that blocks out the light; dotted near the road or just off the forest paths are shrines carved from stone and wood. The aurora dims near these shrines, and offers breathing room. Small offerings dot the alters, and some are even medicines that can alleviate hallucinations, wanderlust, and the like.

But there’s a price for taking these offerings; the various candles dotting the shrines ignite, flames reaching for the intruder, and burn either a monster change, or a message into their skin. It’s equal odds which one a Drifter receives. The message fades in the span of the month, but offers cryptic words regarding the world, and can be logged in the Convoy database.

05: STASIS WARNING

Pockets of something… Wrong lurk on the road, or just off the path. Many of them are lined with Husks twisted into horrified expressions. Others are little more than a faint distortion and ripple in the air. But once a Drifter wanders into the pockets, the effects become all too clear.

The pockets are alarmingly still when stepped inside. This stillness tries to seep into anyone in the pocket, making them stiffen, their thoughts go sluggish and almost halt… But the Sigils on their skin dispel this before it can completely overtake a Drifter. Sigils disperse the field with explosive results; bursts of fire or electricity, surges of plant grown, rock explosions all burst as the field is dispelled.

The one warning for these pockets are strange symbols and the words ‘STASIS’ inscribed on rocks, trees, and signs around these pockets, warning about them. A couple crisscross the roads needed to take out of the forest. It seems that a Tough vehicle could easily wade in and survive the explosions of magic, while a Fast vehicle would be capable of outracing any trouble… While those on foot will need to hope for the best, or for fast healing.

06: RADIO HOUR

After several days of travel, and around nightfall the Convoy approaches a resting point ringed in Husks. It resembles a log cabin, with some unnerving traits; first, the trees near the cabin become more rigid and geometric, almost like pylons. Second is the large radio tower growing out of the cabin itself. Once the Convoy is in range, the radios, phones, and screens all crackle to life. Screens display a broadcasting logo, followed by an emergency signal drone. Astute Drifters can check the dates that pop up, and realize that this is an old recording.

“Attention, this is an emergency broadcast. Seek shelter immediately. A moon warp is imminent. Repeat, a Moon Warp is imminent. Impact: falling moon shards will cause destruction and distortions. Prepare by seeking cover inside shields. Those caught outside will be twisted. Seek shelter immediately.”

Outside the Husks pulse, and the broken moon shimmers. Several bright spots in the sky grow brighter… And larger, as shards of moon fall. The Convoy comes to a wrenching halt. A warning siren echoes, before the Convoy deploys its shield. Those inside are safe from the worst of the Warp, able to hide out in the Convoy. Nothing like a good time to bond with whoever you’ve been shut in with, right?

07: MONSTER HOUR

Those outside the Convoy will be in for a rougher time. The glow from the falling moon shards has a way of piercing into the brain and forcing a full transformation for as long as the Moon Warp lasts.

During the Warp, there’s plenty of trouble for Drifters. The Husks glow before bursting into a pack of violent, wolf-esque gryphons called Nargacuga, and a host of other beasts. These monsters favor scaling trees for dive attacks, or hauling Drifters up into the branches. But with their focus on the Drifters, the Nargacuga are easy prey for the chromehounds nearby, which pounce in a tangle and clash.

By dawn, the Warp has worn off. The Nargacuga are dead, while the chromehounds have been smashed. Transformed Drifters have two options in the aftermath; either they've burned off so much energy fighting they revert into an exhausted state. They will likely be suffering from disorientation and require rest, healing, and anchoring from others. Alternately, Drifters run wild ahead of the Convoy as something draws them north; they will have a chance to revert next month, in the Messages prompt!

07-A: MONSTER BRAWL

One particularly large and ferocious Nargacuga leads the pack of monsters… And seems to have a particular hatred for technology. He attacks the radio tower, doing his best to knock it down, and then strikes at the Convoy only to be deflected by the shields. Once he’s deflected, he vents his rage on the Chromehounds.

The radio picks up something from the lead Nargacuga each time he bleeds, and a patchy broadcast happens, with different fragments heard by different people:
1. “Serenith has ordered. I obey. Obliterate every trace of Wardens, cull their human flock. Justice for the packs they murdered.”
2. “Keep bleeding them until the moon Breaks, just like she ordered.”
3. “They gave me a place and a pack, where I could hunt.”
4. “Be ruthless. The Steel Wardens aren’t different, with the children they cull.”
5. “Hate… Loss… Blood. Always more blood.”

In its death throes the Nargacuga obliterates any remaining Husks, littering the area with quicksilver pools. Drifters must be careful around these pools, as contact with them will cause all pre-assigned monster traits next month to linger without special treatment.

MICRO ENCOUNTERS:

PLEASE NOTE! These are small bits of set dressing for players to include in threads if they wish, rather than full fledged prompts or events. You may handwave your exploration of these areas, or thread them out.

Radio Trees: A strange line of geometric trees leading towards the radio tower cabin. The closer a Drifter gets, the more they can hear faint music and old broadcasts regarding moon phases.

Hunting Grounds: An area of burnt out husks that have already burst open. There’s a few monster carcasses scattering the area, along with broken weapons and bullet casings. A symbol has been carved into the monsters, or a moon pierced by a sword.

Forest Flowers: A clearing that lacks the grasping trees from before, and instead is taken up by crystalline flowers. They give off a pleasant fragrance, and help to relax characters. Can be crushed into a medicine to help cure long lasting fear toxin effects.

Falling Trees: Drifters are advised to be careful of falling trees obstructing the road, and which may need to be hacked through. Granted, what’s knocking over the trees is another question entirely!

Lakeside: streams and rivers thread the forest, occasionally creating marshy areas. These rivers eventually feed into a massive lake that borders the radio tower cabin. The water is cloudy, and the bottom of the lake covered with the remains of destroyed chrome hounds: they’ve clearly been torn apart by the nargacuga prowling the area.

NAVIGATION

Comments

[taediosum]

Sensible.

[ Arcade looks up with a tense, wan sort-of smile in greeting. He's been avoiding making basic pleasantries long enough that he's gotten pretty rusty, though. And having to meet this many new people in such a short span (not to mention in such dire circumstances) is enough to wear on anyone, besides.

The brief pass of confusion turned mild amusement that crosses his face softens it a touch, though, as he straightens up, dusting himself off. (Not that it seems to help, much. That once-white lab coat is about 200 years too late to lose that look of perpetual dustiness.) ]

Neither am I, but I can say for sure that we're a little early for radiocarbon dating, at least. It can't have been that long, given these corpses are still pretty... uh, meaty.

[ Ugh. He's definitely seen worse, but this isn't pretty, either. ]

Assuming these things decay at roughly the average rate for similar organic material, anyway.

[andnevermore]

[ Gently putting down the mangled gun, Blake goes to crouch over one of the monster corpses. It's obviously been riddled with bullets, but it's intact enough that she can make out it's rough appearance: it looks like a bear, but with a strange fur-less face and paws. Those claws look like they could do some serious damage.

The problem is, she knows very little about physical decay, either. In her world, the monsters don't hang around when they're killed, they dissolve into ash. So monster corpse rotting rates was never a thing she was educated in. The only thing she knows on that subject is how fast regular animal decay.

She pulls out her phone, and starts taking pictures. Morbid, but necessary. ]

Assuming this world functions on the same rules as yours and mine.

[ Blake's tone is wry. ]

Because I don't know about you, but people don't spontaneously grow fangs or ears or mantis claws in my world.

[taediosum]

Shouldn't that be yours or mine?

[ Assuming they're from places similar enough to lump together seems optimistic, at best, as well. But he's a little past losing hope of finding much familiar in the others who've been gathered here.

Case in point, he's never seen a phone small enough to fit in someone's pocket. And he can't tell what she's doing with it any more than he can figure out what it is, from a puzzled look alone. ]

...But, uh, no. That's not normal anywhere, I'd wager. Though we've got plenty of things like this.

[ He gestures to the bear-thing, as he crosses over to take a better look at it, himself. That symbol carved into its side, specifically. ]

It could pass for a particularly unfortunate yao guai, if you squint.

[andnevermore]

[ He's right about the differentiation between their worlds, at least. So far, Blake has two of her friends from her world here, but everyone else seems... pretty foreign. From their accents, to the way they dress, the things they reference. And then there's people like Leo, a big turtle-man, and Shadow, a furry two-legged hedgehog. People like that definitely don't exist in her world.

Remnant, too, has plenty of monsters. So at least that part of this world doesn't surprise her. ]

Whatever it is, it was definitely killed recently, you're right.

[ She leans in closer to snap a few photos of the symbol on its side: what she can only assume is a moon pierced by a sword. ]

And this is definitely weird. If I had to guess I'd say it was carved in the monster after it died. [ Blake frowns. ] Some kind of mark to announce who killed it, maybe?

[taediosum]

No need to guess. There's no inflammation, and it doesn't appear to have bled from these cuts. Clearly post mortem.

[ His tone is light, approving almost - even if they're only operating on what amounts to hopeful guesswork, with no firm knowledge of how things work, here, a good instinct is a good instinct. ]

As to why someone would bother to make a mark like that, you're probably not wrong there, either. Usually, something like that is meant to send a message.

[ To whom and what end, he doesn't bother speculating. But it seems obvious it isn't meant to be a reassuring gesture - not hacked into the side of a dead, possibly mutated animal, like that. ]

[andnevermore]

[ Blake's not sure she even wants to know, honestly. There's... so much going on. There's something called moon warps, and Nirvana, and the message from the shrine is still on her skin, and she's got fangs and a back ache and a hunger she can't shake, and a stupid campervan with broken windows, ugh. Gods, she just wants to curl up in the back of her van on her stolen mattress and read for a while.

She sits back, swiping through the photos she's just taken. ]

We'll have to keep an eye out. See if this mark appears on any other creatures further down the road.

[ Blake bites back a sigh. She's exhausted. And hungry. But this needs to be done. ]

Have you... [ She pauses, hesitant. It still feels personal to ask if someone is turning into a monster. ] Have you changed, since coming here?

[taediosum]

It's bound to. This doesn't look the work of ambitious first-timers.

[ Which means there are well-armed strangers much more well established than they are, somewhere out here. Which could be a good thing - or very, very bad.

He knows which way his paranoid intuition is leaning, but he's not trying to fearmonger, either.

The question surprises him, just as he's taking an interest in what she's doing with that phone again - and his immediate response is reflexive defense. ]

No.

[ ...Amended reluctantly, after a beat. ]

...Not much. [ His fingers twitch as he doesn't reach for his forearm again. ] Why?

[andnevermore]

[ He's obviously not too thrilled about the question. Blake can't blame him, honestly. Her own changes have been fairly manageable so far (except for the few times she cut her tongue on her new fangs), but she's been feeling self-conscious about the message the shrine burned into her arm. And the new symptoms she woke up with this morning have been throwing her off-kilter, the ache in her back and the gnawing hunger serving as a constant distraction.

She thinks... maybe she'd just wanted to know other people were going through the same thing. And Arcade's currently the only person within hearing distance. ]

No reason. I'm just-- curious.

[ Her ears have flattened in social embarrassment, voice faltering. ]

Sorry. It's an awkward question, I know.

[ Oh gods, she needs a topic change. Right now. ]

Do you want to walk around a bit and see if we can find more monster corpses with that symbol?

[taediosum]

[ He feels a pang of guilt almost immediately, at her response. As readily as he deflects, when it comes to any kind of question that feels too personal, Arcade doesn't generally relish hurting anyone's feelings over it. At least if it's a question asked in earnest, anyway. He's so used to avoiding talking about himself that he doesn't stop to wonder whether someone might be asking for much more personal reasons.

He turns his attention abruptly out toward the trees, not wanting to make this more awkward by highlighting the moment any further. ]

It's - fine. Really. Don't worry about it.

[ Changing the subject is clearly the right tactic, and he attempts to offer an olive branch in service to both his curiosity and moving past it. ]

Sure. If you don't mind explaining what you were doing with that device, too?

[andnevermore]

[ The question makes Blake brighten. It's not the first time she's been asked that, actually -- Faith also hadn't known what a smartphone was, and she'd been thrilled when Blake had explained it -- so she takes readily to the new topic.

She stands, and angles herself so Arcade can see the screen. She puts it on the camera screen, so he can see that it's displaying what she's pointing the phone at: currently, a couple of car wrecks in front of them. ]

This is a Scroll. Or a smartphone, whatever you want to call it. It's a phone, a camera, a map, it does pretty much everything. I've got books and music on here too.

[ She swipes to the homescreen, which shows all of her apps. Including portraits of three other young women, one of them greyed out, the other two displaying green bars underneath. ]

I've been taking photos of pretty much everything. Mostly monster corpses, so I can tell other people about them if they didn't see them.

[taediosum]

[ Crossing his arms (and making a concerted effort not to fidget with his sleeves, just in case there are visible scales poking out), Arcade looms as politely as he can - because that's really the only thing to call it, when he's exactly one whole foot taller than she is. The fascinating display makes it hard to feel too awkward, though, as he watches her effortlessly navigate the bright little screen. ]

So it's a bit like a Pip-Boy, then. Only... infinitely more convenient.

[ Way less clunky, much clearer screen - actual color display? Robert House would have an aneurysm (and none too soon, in Arcade's admittedly biased opinion). ]

That's pretty smart, though. Documenting all of this, I mean. Who knows what we'll run into down the line? Better to be as prepared as we can.

[andnevermore]

[ Whatever a Pip-Boy is-- sure, it's exactly like that. ]

It's really the only thing I can think of to do that's useful, honestly. [ Blake sounds more than a little guilty about that, and frustrated. ] I can protect people from monsters, and I can take photos, but I can't do anything about the fact that we're stuck in this place.

[ She hits the gallery app so they can look over the photos together. They're a little dark, but the sword and moon carved into the sides of the monsters is clear. Further back in the gallery are the pictures she took of the messages the shrines burned into her and Akechi's arms, the text easily readable despite the small screen. ]

There's so many pieces to this puzzle-- it's going to take a long time to put them together.

[taediosum]

Hey, that's not nothing. Especially when you could be sitting in the road, wallowing in despair and refusing to do anything.

[ Hardly the only two options, but he's trying to lighten the mood a little.

At least until he notices those photographs of the burns, eerily legible, and frowns as he points them out. ]

...You don't think those have anything to do with - all of this, do you?