APRIL EVENT LOG

[monstertruckers]

code

The grassland gives way to rougher terrain, green fading to cracked red earth with scraggly sharp-edged plants dotting the landscape. With no trees, the sky overhead feels massive, and almost oppressive with how the sun and moon shine down. It’s entirely at odds with the biting wind that often whips across the flatlands. The ground occasionally breaks open into crevasses or rolls along in arid hills, but it remains stark thorn brush for as far as the eye can see… Save for one strange, ominous tower on the horizon.

01:TOWER OF TRANSFORMATION

The tower looks like a giant fang, trying to bite the sky. A strange pressure emits from it and rests on the skin. Drifters can get closer to the tower, but the terrain is covered with puncturing spikes and sharp thorn brush. It will take a TOUGH vehicle to get close without getting cut. Anyone who bleeds within sight of the tower discovers their cuts are transformed; a monster’s form waits under their skin, and transforms them one injury at a time.

It takes several days to get close to the tower via Convoy, with how the road snakes and winds towards it. Drifters won’t be able to reach it without offroad vehicles until April 15th. Getting close to the tower reveals that it is formed out of a strange metal much like the Husks… And that numerous creatures have been melded into the tower’s surface. A strange red ichor seeps out from these forms. Coming into contact with it heals wounds and can revert one transformation.

Drifters can take some of the fluid with them, if they have means to carry it… But only one extra dose; any more makes the fluid unstable and neutralizes the effect entirely.

01-A: TWISTED MONSTERS

The land here is still littered with Husks, ready to break open to fight… But these monsters are more twisted than usual, and seem to be composed of multiple organisms. Prowling cat-centaur esque brutes called panthera protectors, ungainly catoblepas, reptile energy draining bloodhound dogs, and flying lion-bird anzu are all ready to attack with tooth and claw, to make Drifters all the more like them.

Given the influence of the tower, Drifters can feel their forms twisting, the more wounds they take, and the more the moon begins to form into something almost whole. By April 15th the wounds and moon are almost impossible to resist without either vials or message mementos. And those wounds are determined to drag a change out of Drifters. (Of note, Drifters who took on Harpy or Naga traits last month will find those changes can come back to them unnervingly easily, and blend with other creature changes to become a true chimera.)

These changes grow worse until the moon glow and shards reach their absolute peak on April 20th. At this point Twisted Land occurs.

02: ROAD ATTACK

A week into the thorn brush, chaos starts at sunset. The first warning is a metallic howl echoing down from the hills, followed by a rumble that could almost be thunder… If not for the fact that the sunset stained sky is completely clear. A swarm of metal sweeps over the hills, heading straight at the Convoy.

Running at the lead are more of those canine robots. The Convoy database again identifies them as ‘chromehounds’ and these are clearly in better repair; their fangs and claws are all razor sharp, and they are swiftly closing the distance. Close behind the hounds is a scattered assortment of scrap metal vehicles. The creatures driving aren’t quite human but also aren’t quite monsters; instead they are mechanical forms with just a few remnants of flesh on them. Robot riders and raiders, determined to harry the Convoy.

The goal of the raiders is to crash their vehicles into the Convoy, to slow or halt them. Drifters will need to either fight at a distance… Or hope that their monster side is tough enough for close and bloody combat!

02-A: ATTACK AND AFTERMATH

The attack patterns of the raiders depends on who they are targeting and how transformed the Drifters are. More monstrous Drifters earn full fury, and the vehicles blare with static and a patchy message: “…Purge… Corruption… By steel.” The raiders are determined to kill monsters, even at the cost of their own lives.

By contrast, less transformed Drifters may be overlooked, or only looked at suspicion. But if examined long enough, the raiders will eventually conclude less changed Drifters as still corrupt and attack them, especially if they are associated with the more monstrous!

Afterwards, mechanical salvage can be found to bolster the Convoy vehicles. The machines display a moon stabbed by a sword. It is the same as the symbols on the trap cars from February. Several raiders also carry odd talismans that resemble a rosary formed of tiny computer screens. Many of the screens are broken, but a few carry flickering text: “Your charge: To hunt the Warped. To purify the broken land, purge all sickness that twists us. Only then can Nirvana be opened, and the world reborn without corruption.”

03: OASIS

Just off the road are scattered oases, shining like blue gems in a red wasteland. The waters run surprisingly deep, with monstrous statues submerged in the depths. These statues resemble all 13 types of monsters, some of them even coloring the water depths into shades of green, purple, and red.

The oasis waters can’t fix or restore physical transformations. But it can cure any heat exhaustion with just a few sips, and restore lost strength. Red water can heal wounds, green restores magic fatigue, and purple can stabilize mental exhaustion and strain.

The statues also create a strange resonance on Drifters’ Sigil marks, particularly when Drifters submerge in the water. The statue resonance can’t completely revert transformations but they CAN spread out the transformation between two Drifters and lessen the potency.

04: MONSTER SHIFT, CHIMERA

Peculiar flowers bloom along some of the thorn brush. Drifters who bleed from the thorns will find that their cuts turn into Traits belonging to either Chimera or Unicorns. Chimeras typically appear from red flowered plants, and become increasingly tougher as they gain more traits. The following is also available:
+Tower focus: if growing extra eyes or heads, vision becomes disorienting. Focusing on the tower will help sharpen vision and provide clarity.
+Thermal flight on new wings, as the hot air coming off the ground helps them soar.
+Territorial hunter vs other fully shifted monsters/enemies.
+Blood taste/frenzy: becomes more savage as blood is shed, whether that is their own or others. If it is their own or an enemy, more aggressive; if it is an ally, more protective.
+An increasingly carnivorous and voracious appetite. Plus a craving for raw meat, and a drive to go hunt it personally; the fresher, the better.
+Tough hide. As 3 or more Chimera traits become active, the skin becomes increasingly tougher and harder for cuts and new transformations to occur.
+A sudden roar that cuts into words, easy for conversations to turn into a shouting match.

04: MONSTER SHIFT, UNICORN

As with Chimera, getting cut and bled by flower bearing thorns will impart unicorn traits on Drifters. This typically comes from thorn plants with white flowers. Unicorns have a knack for stabilizing the more violent changes… And perhaps even stopping transformations from bleeding. The following is also available:
+Horn Resonance, a ringing in the horn or forehead the closer one gets to the tower. Can result in either disorientation, or a boost in healing.
+Shift Healing: At the cost of taking on another unicorn/current monster trait, may heal another Drifter of one active trait. This can only be used once per character.
+An increasingly vegetarian diet, including the flowers off various thorn bushes.
+Increased pain or disorientation in the forehead as horn grows in. May also experience pain in feet (hooves) or back (wings or tail) though healing magic can alleviate pain.
+A compulsion to heal the injured or protect those who can. Similarly, a compulsion to protect the virtuous and aid them.
+Fight or Flight response: more likely to bolt at the sign of trouble with increased speed. If fleeing is not possible (or others are in danger) ready to fight to the death in desperate frenzy.
+Urge to run and be outdoors, gains an almost euphoric sensation when running at full speed.

05: TWISTED LAND

Finally the Convoy draws close to the tower and the moon glows balefully overhead, signaling an imminent Moon Warp. Shards of the tower fall away, exposing something encased in the surface. A chimera monster is pierced and pinned to the tower by swords. Elemental blood streams down, glowing in reaction to the Drifters, and causing the blades to glow in turn.

If Drifters make contact with the swords, they explode in a hail of shards, causing more wounds and damaging the tower. The shed blood twists the landscape. Deserts, forests, and swamps all shift together. With them come the hazards of those environments; quicksand, falling trees or strangling vines, terrible draining heat, all blending and switching without pattern. Such twisting weakens the tower. Further fragments break off and turn into monsters, aggressive and ready to fight. The Convoy braces against the twisting, but warning screens say that the shields are low on power. The shields occasionally waver, letting in the Moon Warp and monsters.

With the damage Drifters inflict in their battles, the environment twisting, and the sword shards, the tower crumbles away. It emits a burst of energy that disperses the land twisting, and ends the bloodshed transformations.

06: SALVE

In the aftermath of the warp, the tower has cracked and broken. A column of wavering light takes its place, reaching thin tendrils up towards the moon.

The red ichor leaks out of the tower in rivers, and any Husk it comes in contact with breaks open without transforming into a monster, instead releasing another glowing shard that travels upwards. Drifters can still harness this ichor to undo one change, though the limits still apply. Submerging in the ichor does not undo more than one change… Though it will stain Drifters with red.

The ichor can also heal wounds, and repair those quite thoroughly, acting as a good salve to mend Drifters from past battles.

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.

Twisted Creatures: Local fauna (flying rabbits, jackalopes, gorgons wandering in from the grasslands, etc) gets caught in the thorn bushes and begins bleeding, and turning into a monster. The process is slow and painful, giving Drifters enough time to get away from the scrub brush and the monster if they wish; or enough time to try and dispatch the creature.

Thorn brush: Clumps of thorn brush line the road. A time or two they even grow over the road and need to be hacked through, in order for the Convoy to proceed. The brush is almost like razor wire, with how sharp the thorns are, and how ready they are to slice up skin.

Watering Hole: Rarely, one can find a small oasis in the bleached land. Unfortunately, many of the twisted creatures want a drink from this place as well; it’s a task to grab water and avoid getting on their bad side.

NAVIGATION

Comments

[serialmurderbot]

[SecUnit has seen this reaction before, the sudden oh shit on faces of people it's rescued as they realize that they've just been rescued by a Murderbot, and usually that's before they even know it's rogue. Relief turned sour, shifting right back into fear and wariness. If it bothered to search its archives it could probably count on one hand the number of times it's been thanked for doing its job. (Those memories get saved to permanent storage. Not so it can replay them, just so it has them).

Danse stops before pulling the gun on it, but SecUnit makes no effort to close the weapon ports. There might still be raiders around. Also it would like to not get shot. Novel preference for a SecUnit.]

No, I'm playing elaborate mind games because I just love shooting people in the back.

[It fires back with the most deeply sarcastic tone it can muster, doing its very best to convey the unimpressed expression that it's wearing but that's hidden behind its helmet. That alone probably marks it out from the attackers - they've not been particularly... coherent. Then it twitches its attention towards the wrist.]

Usually there's more yelling. [At least.] I can escort you to the medical facilities.

[androidvictoriam]

[ The tone works. Ironically enough (or perhaps not,) it's more sarcasm than Danse himself is usually capable of pulling off, let alone the raiders. And it's the sort of thing Danse is more accustomed to hearing from allies than enemies, making him relax incrementally further even if it brings a tinge of a scowl to his face. ]

Point taken.

[ It's a fair point about the yelling, too, considering that Danse has already shouted himself halfway to laryngitis here with things like "SLAG THOSE HULKS" and "EXTERMINATE THEM" and the occasional evergreen "AD VICTORIAM," but his priorities can be strange when he's in the zone. He looks as though he might readily concede this as well, but the brief easing of tension evaporates at the mention of the medical facilities, and his spine promptly stiffens again. ]

No. That's not happening. [ His tone is sharp, but not in a way that seems entirely directed at SecUnit. ] All I need is something to splint it with. If you want to keep an eye out for more raiders in the meantime, I'll take that over an escort anywhere.

[serialmurderbot]

A splint.

[The way it echoes that, disbelieving and half-disgusted, like a splint may in fact be some form of torture device rather than a medical solution to a broken wrist, is maybe more subdued than the initial reaction of disgust, but no less a sign of emotion.]

What are you splinting it with?

[It doesn't need to look around the area to indicate the lack of what it considers suitable materials, but it does anyway for effect. Since it can't drop images with tags into the feed.]

The medical facilities are shit but they have bandages.

[androidvictoriam]

[ This is a question Danse would ordinarily be able to answer by fishing some kind of appropriately-shaped scrap from one of the infinite compartments in his mech suit, or at least by finding something suitable on the body of one of the raiders, as those tend back home to make fashion statements out of strapping convenient slabs of metal and wood and plastic all over themselves as makeshift armor.

Unfortunately, the mech suit did not get abducted along with him, and these raiders seem to have welded their armor on in a way he's not going to be able to get off one-handed, so SecUnit has an unfortunately valid point about this as well. Danse sighs heavily. ]

Fine. As long as the bandages are free for the taking.

[ Use of the medical facilities does not necessarily imply having to interact with the medic, after all, and the bandages are not the part Danse finds objectionable. If he's going to be escorted, anyway, he supposes he should try to find some manners. ]

I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I'd have been in a tight spot if you hadn't shown up. I'm Danse.

[serialmurderbot]

[The answer to that is implied, because SecUnit takes a sweep of the area and then starts moving, headed back in the direction of the large, obvious trailers. There are only trashed raiders in the immediate area - Danse sure did a number on these ones before he got caught off-guard - but that doesn't mean there aren't more, especially ones who would target the center of the convoy itself.

It's a great excuse to not respond to that introduction immediately, to slow its pace just enough that it can keep a peripheral eye on Danse without making it obvious that it needs to monitor his reaction to its answer. (It misses it's fucking drones. First thing it does when it gets back from this shithole planet to somewhere with Feed access: Order two whole fleets of drones).]

If you have to call me something, SecUnit.

[Time to get this over with. It keeps it shoulder squared, hands loose and ready at its side in case it needs to pull a disarming move.]

[androidvictoriam]

[ Danse gives it good reason to think it might, too. He doesn't freeze completely, but the tension in his posture is immediate, clear, accompanied by a reflexively clenched fist on the hand that can do that without pain right now.

"You must be the courser." "Yes, ma'am. Designation X6-88."
"My data analysis indicates that "Paladin Danse" and "Unit M7-97" are one and the same--" ]

What the hell kind of name is that?

[ It shouldn't actually matter what kind of name it is, or why SecUnit goes by it. If Danse can tolerate that damn courser--the one who could erase his mind and enslave him again with a single command, the one who proudly answers to an alphanumeric jumble and doesn't flinch at all when Danse calls him "it," the one people don't make "tin can" jokes about or mock for robotic turns of phrase the way they do with Danse, because the courser can talk and laugh and swear like a person with social skills when he actually wants to--then this should bother him less, not more, because it's not like that Institute sycophant would have bothered to save Danse from raiders. It's just a little too close to home for comfort, too new and too raw. ]

What exactly are you?

[serialmurderbot]

[Wow, okay, rude.

But also - it's been waiting for this kind of reaction. The only surprise is that Danse doesn't know what it is just from it saying it's "name." He's obviously not from the Corporation Rim, because anyone there would have known it was a SecUnit the moment it fired its energy weapons, even before it identified itself as a SecUnit, but Danse clearly doesn't have to know what it is to hate what it is.

It's fine. It's used to this.

It drops its 'act like a human' code, the code that gives it all the reassuring little human tics of movement and shifting its weight that humans subconsciously expect, and suddenly its body language is abnormally still. Usually it doesn't try to drop this - but not this time. This time it's a deliberate fuck you.

It wonders for 0.2 seconds how much of a shitshow would result if it told Danse to call it Murderbot instead, and concludes that someone would die - and this is why its real name is private.]

I'm this Convoy's security consultant. And a SecUnit. [It borrows the next line from Sanctuary Moon's Colony Solicitor, down to the deliberate emphasis on each word.] Are we going to have a problem?

[androidvictoriam]

[ Somehow, that fuck you has the opposite effect as intended. Somehow, the code-switchoff manages to soothe some of the bristling tension in Danse's posture, makes him check himself and relent for now, because it's a difference. It's uncanny, unnerving, all of those things, yes, but it's something Danse himself can't do, and it cuts off some of the oxygen to his ongoing little crisis. He might be a machine too, but at least he's not quite that mechanical.

Any self-respecting soldier of the Brotherhood of Steel would still want to destroy a free-thinking android on the spot, of course, especially one advanced enough to have feelings on the situation and weapons to express them with. But that's why Danse isn't one of them anymore and they've taken to shooting at him from helicopters for sport, and his lingering allegiance is tinged now with guilt and shame for the hypocrisy. ]

No.

[ What's he going to do about it here, anyway? Arcade was right when he said there are too few of them here to attack each other over ideology or treat each other like criminals, even if Danse thinks now that he was just trying to save his own skin. He certainly can't argue that the convoy doesn't need competent security, and he's perfectly aligned with SecUnit in that goal. ]

We're not going to have a problem.

[ He pauses, as if weighing something. ]

...I apologize.

[ It's what he'd want to hear. ]

[serialmurderbot]

[Wait until he finds out that it has human neural tissue in there.

SecUnit reads it as, primarily, backing off - which was the point of dropping into Big Scary SecUnit mode in the first place (never mind that Danse probably has an inch or so on it), to make him back off. So. Good work, Murderbot.

It still doesn't quite know what to do with that acquiescence, but while it figures out what to say it starts forward again, folding its energy weapons back into its gun ports.

There's a single stuttering interruption to its movements as it processes the apology. It was - honestly it wasn't expecting shit, at most some awkward attempts to save face on Danse's part.]

... Right. [Amazing how much awkward discomfort can be crammed into just one word, from someone who clearly doesn't know what to do with an apology. To avoid dealing with this, it just... keeps moving.]

[androidvictoriam]

[ That, at least, Danse knows how to handle. Awkward silences about things like this are just Tuesday, in his usual squad. He doesn't register it as a particularly unusual reaction.

He picks up the tire iron before following, because it's his only backup weapon and it would be wasteful to leave it behind regardless--but knowing how he would react to someone walking up behind him with a re-acquired weapon after a tense argument, he tucks it as securely as he can alongside his holstered rifle and resumes occupying his hands with stabilizing the injured wrist, just to make the lack of threat clear. Whatever other conflict might be happening, either external or internal, there still is something that reassures him here about having others around who understand the soldier mentality, and it makes him want to reach for common ground that isn't quite so fraught.

If he were more socially adept, he could probably find a way to do that. Unfortunately, he is not, and his wary, tentative curiosity settles on something probably still best left unasked after the subject nearly provoked a scuffle in the first place. But his tone is neutral this time, at least, as he settles in alongside SecUnit and inclines his head slightly toward the gun ports. ]

How do you recharge those? I can't imagine having to reload.

[serialmurderbot]

[SecUnit continues leading the way towards the Convoy, occasionally pausing to scan the surroundings for signs of other raiders or drifters in similar distress, the helmet making a sweep of the landscape before refocusing towards their destination. It never focuses back towards Danse, in fact seems often to pointedly avoid turning to stare directly towards him, but SecUnit nevertheless seems consistently aware of his position and activity.

It's at least not jumpy, given its lack of noticeable reaction to Danse scooping up the tire iron. It gives more sign of what it thinks about the question.]

The same way anything gets recharged. [So, take a guess, Danse. Yeah, okay, maybe it's being a bit petty, but people in the Convoy don't exactly have a great track record of asking how it works.]

[androidvictoriam]

[ Danse supposes he deserves that. He doesn't look offended, anyway, though perhaps a little bit sheepish about it as he quiets for the moment and keeps up his own assessment of the surroundings.

He wonders how the helmet works, too--what kind of HUD it has, how similar it might be in function to the power armor he'd give anything to have with him here--but doesn't ask this time, and doesn't want to let himself get too distracted with speculation either before they're entirely out of the woods. ]

The reason I ask is because that answer is pretty variable. Once the fusion cells in this thing run down-- [ He indicates his own laser rifle, still on his back, with a jerk of his head so that he doesn't have to let go of his wrist. ] --it'll be a brick, unless I can find an alternative.

[serialmurderbot]

[SecUnit does a quick search in its memory archives for 'fusion cells', comes up with a lot of contradictory information, some of which suggests that it should be evacuating the area by at least a few dozen kilometers. So it abandons that search. It would probably need to spend a full day doing research, and it doesn't have access to the full digital library, just a whole lot of dubiously accurate entertainment media.]

We haven't come across any fusion cells that I know of.

[Grudgingly answered, because it supposes weapons access is a key point that should be addressed.]

Current means of recharging include ad-hoc hookups to vehicles and the Convoy. External power sources can't reliably be found, especially if the Convoy leaves previously populated zones behind.

[androidvictoriam]

Electric rather than nuclear. I'd thought that might be the case. It's unfortunately par for the course as far as I've seen.

[ Or quite fortunately, for everyone who doesn't come from a world where a Geiger counter needs to be a standard household tool and horrifying mutations happen with or without weird moon magic involved. ]

I suppose I shouldn't complain about being rendered obsolete here, as long as someone is around to do the job. Is "security consultant" a self-appointed role, or did someone confer it on you?

[ Not that he's objecting, just...it's all he knows how to do, either, and for once, he was neither here first nor more inherently equipped to do it. "Obsolete" feels like the right word. It's become a habit over these last weeks to start thinking and talking of himself in more robotic terms, especially when the people who usually tell him to knock it off aren't here. ]

[serialmurderbot]

[The conversation continues on, and SecUnit picks its way in among the scattered vehicles of the Convoy, not looking at Danse as it moves but its helmeted head occasionally twitching to the side in the kind of quick situation check that will be familiar to anyone who's spent much time in combat. It's on alert for trouble, but not expecting it at this exact moment, as it keeps its pace adjusted and chooses a path through the vehicles that obscure sight lines to the outer edge of the Convoy where the raiders might still be active.]

Better that way. No one traveling with the Convoy has identified themself as a scientist with that expertise.

[A few tech-savvy ones, some who claim experience with magic, which. Okay sure whatever. But it doesn't think they have anyone who could maintain that. (Okay Jayce and Viktor are scientists, but SecUnit isn't impressed with their safety protocols or their noise disturbances).]

Current population requires a minimum of one more SecUnit or at least two more trained humans for safety. [Why yes, it does consider itself the equivalent of at least two trained humans.] No one's in charge of this piece of shit Convoy, but I've done security work in hostile environments with surveyors. It's a [Shit, what's the word Pin-Lee uses? The Colony solicitor, too...] pro bono contract.