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

[lonedanger]

[ Danse has noticeably less of a sense of humor when he's sensing some kind of threat, which is probably something the Brotherhood drums into its initiates from the jump. Plenty of threats in the wasteland. Plenty more still, to the Brotherhood alone. If one is accustomed to receiving deferential treatment from folk by virtue of the Power Armor and sheer presence of the army at one's back, Len has to imagine that constant surveillance is the next best alternative. ]

Right, yeah. [ He casts a cursory glance back over one shoulder for a moment, to the old military truck in the distance. ] The doc.

[ Len shrugs with his eyebrows, hands braced on his hips. The tone he keeps is conversational, nary a twitch in response to the concrete wall of intimidating eye contact that Danse seems to be trying to elicit. ]

Look, if you're wondering about whether you've worried him, then yeah, you have. He was pretty convinced you wanted to put a laser through his skull and I had to talk him down from panicking about it, 'cause I don't believe you're the kind of man who does that without good reason and solid evidence.

[ The scant space between them decreases as he pushes in, tapping the backs of his knuckles against Danse's chest. The normal human discomfort in maintaining eye contact in such close proximity doesn't seem to faze him, even with the difference in height. ]

So maybe you quit beatin' around the bush and tell me what you're actually concerned about, so I can tell you that you're wildly mistaken, and you can make good on that offer of a drink you once extended to me.

[androidvictoriam]

[ Danse would want to say that it isn't about wanting deference, or about anything that makes it sound more like he wants his ego stroked rather than wanting his instructions heeded for other people's benefit--but the longer he spends here without the armor or the aura or the Brotherhood backup he's taken for granted all these years, in a place where he has no authority at all and no respect either earned or borrowed, the more he's forced to reckon with the idea that maybe he has developed more of an ego about it than he thought he had. You never know what you've got until it's gone.

He still stands like a man accustomed to giving orders, though, and with the stance of someone used to having six inches of metal around every limb, whether it intimidates successfully or not. He can tell that it's not, right now, nor likely to. He folds his arms impassively, as if feeling he has to compensate all the more for Len's relaxed body language. ]

You're right. I'm not.

[ He concedes this and then wonders if he really should have, because when fear of potential consequence is the only weapon he really can use in this scenario, he undermines it by admitting how reserved he intends to be with it. But he'll let it stand. He's not a barbarian who'll execute a man in cold blood on vibes alone, and it doesn't suit him to pretend he is. He's not even sure he likes what it says about him that he feels grimly satisfied to know the doctor is afraid of him--

--which he promptly undermines in turn by taking a startled step back at the unexpected breach of his personal space, arms uncrossing of their own accord and leaving him unguarded and open to that even-more-unexpected touch. Who does that? When was the last time someone could have done that without their knuckles just clanking harmlessly against metal? His eyes are wide, tongue tied enough that it takes him a good long moment to regain his self-possession and process the question. ]

--Why should I believe you if you tell me I'm mistaken? By your own admission, you'll say that no matter what I explain.

[lonedanger]

[ It's oddly satisfying that Danse retreats, that Len calls his bluff. As it turns out, the intimidation gambit only really works when there's someone capable of being intimidated. And when there's a half-foot of steel between you and the person you're trying to make feel smaller than they are. The man works his mouth for a moment like a fish gasping for air and Len patiently watches him deliberate. ]

All right. [ He concedes amicably, perhaps too swiftly, as though he expected this sort of response. ] Fair enough.

[ Seems all he's been doing lately is justifying himself to soldiers with suspicions. Len raises his palms in the universal symbol of supplication, appealing instead to whatever side of Danse caused his alleged split from the Brotherhood. ]

You just been surveillin' us so long I thought you'd actually want answers to your questions. Saves you the inconvenience of stayin' up late expecting to see one of us commit a war crime. But I can't persuade you of anything if you've already set your mind to a foregone conclusion.

[androidvictoriam]

[ Arcade has gotten a good deal closer to the truth than Len here, in refusing to give Danse the grace of believing he left the Brotherhood of his own volition. Had that Institute data never been decrypted, he still would be as loyal a paladin as ever he was--or as loyal as he's been since Cutler's death, at least.

"You did the right thing, Danse."
"It's what I was taught. I don't know if it was right."

He isn't altogether incapable of reason or question. He'd be a corpse on the floor of a lonely bunker right now, if he were. It's logic that sways him now, as it usually is, more than appeal to emotion or ego--or to the kind of isolation that makes him long to relent just so he won't feel so damn alone here, more so than he's ever been in his life, even when he had exactly two people left in the world back home who weren't calling him "it" or declaring his exile to be karmic retribution. He doesn't trust Len's motives, but he can still feel the warmth of that touch long after Len pulls his hand away. ]

I haven't set my mind to any conclusion yet. But I don't understand why you can't see how damning the evidence looks. You clearly know exactly whose insignia that is on the truck, and what they've done to make people want justice. Your friend had every opportunity to explain himself, and chose to feign ignorance instead until he couldn't hide anymore. And now you're trying to persuade me to let my guard down and look the other way, as if you're doing me some kind of favor.

[ He's just frustrated by it, and tired, because no matter how shady he still thinks it all sounds when he explains himself, it is a lot of effort for absolutely no discernible payoff thus far. He rubs his eyes. ]

This is how it happened in the Capital, you know. The Enclave never would have been a threat if the Brotherhood had struck before they built up their strength. We ignored the warning signs, and we lost a lot of good people for it in the end. If they'd ultimately succeeded in their attempt to take control of the water supply, it would have been absolutely catastrophic for the citizens.

[ Still with that "we," too recently made untrue for him to catch himself and avoid it. ]

[lonedanger]

You got good reasons for suspicion. Hell, I'd probably feel the same way if I didn't already know him.

[ Interesting to hear that the Enclave is still active, and more so to hear that Danse has experience in fending them off out there on the eastern seaboard. Probably didn't mean to rope himself into whatever power was fighting them off, but having already received confirmation from Arcade on Danse's military experience, Len doesn't need to ask. ]

Ain't nobody likes to be lumped in with a faction if they're not trying to be, if they're alone - I suspect it's for similar reasons that you didn't immediately tell me you were Brotherhood. And maybe gettin' a regular uniform from them made you forget that scavenging is the rule of the wasteland. First time I met Arcade I was wearing some Legion armor I picked up off a body south of Vegas, 'cause I'd been robbed blind a few days before.

[ He waves his hand - not so much dismissive, just trying to give some quick context. ]

You probably ain't heard of 'em, bunch of assholes dressed like ancient Romans, but they're one of the biggest threats we got back home. Authoritarian fucks who torture and enslave people, destroy entire tribes and assimilate 'em into their army.

I needed a chest plate and had to use the one I found until I could get enough caps to buy somethin' new. Arcade saw me, and- [ Len actually chuckles. ] Told me "you must've taken a wrong turn somewhere around the Colorado. Fascists and slavers aren't welcome in Freeside. It's right there in the name."

[ Which is to say that anyone who fronts an entire conversation with vocal criticism of a known and reviled faction definitely isn't conducting eugenics on the side. ]

Maybe the truck is his. Maybe this place is just screwing with people in all manner of ways. I know what the Enclave's done - I've seen it myself, north of the Strip. Towns shredded apart from their weapons systems. But the last stronghold they had on the west coast was wiped off the face of the earth by the NCR in 2246, so the math ain't mathing. Unless we're entertaining the possibility that he's just really old and looks good for his age.

[androidvictoriam]

[ The amount of this argument that Danse is willing to swallow is up for debate, and his ever-present frown deepens just a little more at the validation of his feelings--almost too easy, too ready, when he knows Len's going to try to debunk all his reasoning anyway, but it still does mollify him a bit.

He's listening, anyway, impassive but without protest. The story is a roundabout one, but that tends to be how Danse thinks stories should be told. From the start, with all the relevant context, in a way that makes less patient listeners snap at you to stop beating around the bush and get to the point. He loathes it when people do that to him, and he's not about to interrupt and do the same. Periodically-interjected commentary is different, though, and Len's description of this Legion is hard to let go without any. ]

Jesus. I'm glad I haven't heard of them. That's a level of barbarism we're usually spared in the East.

[ Not that Danse has much room to be talking about authoritarian fucks who want to conquer and assimilate, whether he admits this in so many words or not, but this is not entirely the point right now, and he refrains from further interruption even if he thinks there's a misconception worth correcting about why he didn't mention the Brotherhood.

Len's reasoning here is understandable, after all; Danse will do him the courtesy of thinking he has just as good a reason for lack of suspicion as Danse has for maintaining his. The story gives even him some pause, for a good long moment. That isn't something anyone openly affiliated with the Enclave would say. But it still requires taking the statement at face value, and that takes trust Danse doesn't yet want to risk giving so freely. The mathematical trump card here, if anything, makes the suspicion worse. ]

I've seen mad science do exactly that and worse. Trust me. That's an eminently entertainable possibility.

[ There are people in the Commonwealth who remember the NCR's very inception, after all--or there were, anyway, before their brains got pulped by the vengeful mother cutting a swath of destruction through the place in pursuit of her kidnapped son. Danse himself will look pretty damn good for his age in forty years, if nothing external kills him first. But he has to concede that this is not exactly the most plausible assumption to go with, here. He sighs. ]

I am allowing for the idea that this could all be some unfortunate coincidence. That's why I haven't done anything but gather intel. But you can hardly begrudge me that. And I honestly don't appreciate the insinuation that I withheld my Brotherhood affiliation as some deliberate lie of omission. I didn't mention it because it doesn't apply anymore.

[ But he can't have it both ways, he knows. He can't act like he's still one of their most loyal soldiers and then cry civilian status when it suits him. He looks torn. ]

[lonedanger]

Nah, I'm sorry. But that dog won't hunt.

[ Whether his argument hits doesn't mean anything so much as whether he can get Danse to take a step back and give someone the benefit of the doubt, a practice unfamiliar to most Brotherhood members. Counter to Danse's objection, there's no point in suggesting that Arcade withheld his association to the Enclave because it doesn't apply anymore - it just serves as an indictment of him that he was affiliated in the first place, involuntary or not. And it's semantics like that that start to get too granular, too quickly. Len doesn't want to get in the weeds with a guy who looks like he could knock his block off with his pinky finger. ]

What's your intel told you, slick?

[ He asks bluntly, an expectant look on his face. Patient, but anticipatory. Len knows the kind of impression he gives off: mercenary, hired gun, general degenerate, irrepressible reprobate. Heard it all before. ]

[androidvictoriam]

[ Len does give off precisely all those impressions and possibly worse. Danse would be the last to say otherwise, which is why he doesn't know why he even cares about defending his own integrity to a man he's not sure has any. That I'm not a liar had been born more of an I don't want you to think of me like that, not, for once in this conversation, a but your friend probably is, or even a but you probably are.

It shouldn't matter, and neither should that blunt shutdown, a turn of phrase he'd be charmed by under other circumstances even if he can only guess at what it really means. But moving past it means having to answer the question, and there isn't really a way around it that makes him look like he has a good reason for keeping up what he's doing. ]

Nothing I didn't already know. [ A pause, chagrined, as his shoulders slump with that concession. ] Except that you take impressively good care of that rifle.

[lonedanger]

[ Danse's inclination isn't exactly incorrect - Len is a skilled liar, and he knows the impression he gives off, especially to military types. Ain't a whole lot he can do about it even if he wants to - it helps, most times, to be underestimated. More than it hurts, anyway. ]

She's my baby.

[ Len says simply, hooking one thumb in the strap of said rifle. There hasn't been a whole lot they can do in the evenings once they've stopped for the night, and as much as Len enjoys the occasional comforts of a decent hotel and an even more decent bed, the inherent niceness of the convoy's interior makes him feel borderline uncomfortable. There's such a thing as letting oneself grow too soft and indolent. ]

Next time you wanna watch us you could just walk your ass over, y'know. [ He points out, not unkindly. Then, with a toothy grin- ] I don't bite.

[androidvictoriam]

[ The general unease about the amenities is the same thought process that has Danse sleeping on a borrowed blanket out in the bed of his truck whenever it isn't raining, the same one that had initially led him to view Arcade as a potential friend as they'd commiserated about fuel wastage and the people who think nothing of it. His suspicion is at frustrating odds with the constant knowledge that save for the one other he knows, these are the only people here who understand things. How much does that really mean, in the scheme of things? More than it should? Less?

That simple answer about the rifle is entirely relatable, too. It would be too easy to give in, to let his guard down, to turn a blind eye to anything he wouldn't want to see. ]

My ass is perfectly fine where it is.

[ He's not oblivious to the innuendo in what either of them has just said; if anything, the deliberate refusal to acknowledge it is more of a challenge, but there's no satisfaction in shutting the offer down so flatly. It doesn't feel like a necessary sacrifice in the name of duty. It just feels like being an asshole. ]

...but I suppose I wouldn't mind talking shop sometime.

[ Maybe on more neutral ground, because he doesn't think his presence is wanted near the truck any more than he wants to be near it himself, but he does not point this out at the moment. He inclines his head toward the rifle again instead, shifting the subject a little further back into safer waters. ]

She have a name?

[lonedanger]

[ Len might agree with the assessment if he could see Danse's ass, but he'll just assume he's telling the truth. The man doesn't exactly strike him as a prolific or talented liar. Talking shop, however, is something Len enjoys even with somebody he can't exactly agree with in other respects. Ironically, the last bastion of civility is discussing firearms. ]

Surefire.

[ He swings his shoulder in a little, deftly turning the rifle into his waiting hands. Len is pointedly careful and confident with her, the way any man whose job is violence is with the tools of their trade. Sure enough, Surefire is engraved into the barrel that he flashes at Danse. He does the man the genteel service of offering the gun to him, expression expectant. ]

Custom build. Manufactured the scope myself, she can reach two miles on a breezy day, with the drop. Two-point-five to three if the air's clear and I'm feeling particularly patient.

[androidvictoriam]

[ It's a good name, he thinks, nodding in a way that suggests this thought even if it doesn't say it aloud. He is genuinely surprised to have the rifle held out for his further examination, when things still are contentious between them--but he does want to see that handiwork up close, and he takes the gun with all the expected care and expertise, studying the details.

The expectant look on Len's face is more common ground here than even this shared interest in weaponry, the kind of openness Danse automatically understands and warms to and wants to respond to in kind. And he is impressed by the specs, as Len rightly seems to want. ]

No kidding.

[ He looks up at Len, eyebrows arched, at the description of the scope, and then back down to squint at it more closely. ]

That's further than I've seen the best marksman in my company manage, but that was with an M&A recon scope. I haven't seen anyone build from scratch.

[ Danse turns the gun back over with the same care that it was handed to him, though his gaze still lingers curiously on the scope as if to see if he can identify where the parts came from. ]

Maybe you could help optimize mine.