"Sure," Ryven replies, standing. "You know, if you're right, this could actually be pretty cool - I've always liked traveling, and not being able to die seems like a major plus. It's just kind of shocking, yeah? I can't really believe you about this scriff stuff - it seems more likely we're having some kind of shared hallucination or something. I don't know how we'd tell the difference."
He finishes the bird leg, and throws the bone to the side of the path. "Is Harry your cat?"
"He sure is." I gesture to the tabby next to me, and start my walk.
"You can pet him on the way if you want to, but I'm anxious to start going." I slap the side of my leg and call for Harry to come along with me toward the mountain. "Come on, boy."
As they go, Ryven reaches down to scratch Harry behind the ears. "You have the only cat I've ever seen that comes when you call it," he remarks. "So what's the layout of the island like? I know there's a black sand beach back there," he gestures with his thumb, "where I left my stuff, but I haven't been anywhere else yet."
Kurt, it may seem silly, but I believe this is the first time you've actually looked at the mountain. Thus it is also the first time you have noticed that there is a concentration of cloud, or possibly steam or smoke, at the top. The trees around you make it difficult to know more than that.
Together you track back along the line Kurt took to get here, conversing along the way.
Incidentally, Court, the bird is a particularly greasy and stringy fowl. It is more on the order of survival food than exotic.
You eventually return to Michael's camp; how are you approaching it?
--M. J. Young
Being at ease from already talking to Michael, I'll approach it openly and relaxed.
"Ryven, we're getting close to Michael's camp-the one who told me about scriff and stuff. I think that you should probably hear his explanations yourself rather than through me. Let's see if he's there."
Michael is still sitting by the fire, perpetually cooking the seagull, which by this point is starting to be picked a bit clean.
Court, "Michael" has his back to you. He is sitting on a rocky outcropping above the beach, looking past his campfire out into the ocean. He is wearing military camouflage, but his left arm is a shiny metallic chrome or aluminum color. Several weapons are visible, including a rifle, a sword, and something that resembles a six foot crowbar with a spiked end. There is also a jeep-like vehicle with the Isuzu brand on it, a couple of machine guns mounted on it, and a white round object protruding from the hood marked "Mr. Fusion".
--M. J. Young
Court's eyes linger on the weapons, and Mr. Fusion - it reassures him to meet someone who likes Back to the Future, but not that they're so heavily armed. He looks at Krillis, and gestures for him to go first.
It's not that he doesn't trust Krillis so much as that the man roasting the seagull makes him nervous, and he'd rather be introduced than introduce himself.
I say one more thing to Ryven before I walk over to Di Vars, "By the way, my real name's Kurt. I was just unsure about whether or not I could trust you. Sorry about that, Ryven."
Then, I walk towards Michael, gesturing for Harry to follow, and call out to him, "Hey, Michael, that other verser's here. Sorry to say it, but it looks like he's new like I am."
Michael sort of grunts, and waves an arm toward the rocks that serve as seats around his campfire.
The sun is reaching the top of the mountain now, and the shadow is receeding.
--M. J. Young
"If you wanted to talk to Michael, here's your chance. I'm going to head over to the mountain. I want to get as much travel time in the shade, and that's steadily receeding. It's up to you, Ryven. You can always catch up to me if you feel like it, just follow that feeling."
"Come on, Harry." I pat my leg, and I begin heading off toward the mountain.
Court, you need to decide whether you are going to travel up the mountain with Kurt or sit by the fire with Michael. According to Kurt, Michael is the one to ask about what's happening to you, as he talks as if he has been through this before. On the other hand, Kurt is exploring the island, and that at least gives you information about your present location.
Kurt, as far as your explorations go, you travel up the mountain through various terrains. There is a stream not far from the outcropping, and you follow that for some distance. It is easier for me to describe its course downhill, so I will do so; you of course examined it going uphill. About half way up the mountain it bubbles out between several rocks surrounding a small pool; it flows out of this pool over a single spillway, and cuts a fairly straight downhill course with a few small falls along the way. After a few miles, when it is within a hundred yards of Michael's camp, it spreads out and spills off a ledge into a pool which stands in the mouth of a cave. Water from this pool spills down into the cave, and somewhere in the depths must encounter a source of heat, as the air from the cave is hot and humid, and steam rises as it hits the open air. A large amount of this water condenses on the roof of the cave, and then drips back into the pool or the cave, but some of it drips over the outer edge of the pool creating a flow down to the beach and the sea. The water in the pool is warm, comparable to a hot tub, between ninety and a hundred degrees Farenheit; that which pours from the stream is cooler, but not cold, perhaps between seventy and eighty.
The terrain varies between grassy clearings, wooded sectors with tropical fruit trees and bamboo, and smooth and rough rock surfaces.
It takes about three hours to reach the top, or near enough. The ground here is comprised of loose rock, rather unstable, and there is steam or smoke rising from a very large area at the peak, from what is at least an indentation if not a hole in the ground at least thirty feet across. The air gets hotter as you approach it.
From up here you can see ocean in all directions except directly across the peak--you'll have to get around to the other side of it to see the other side, of course.
--M. J. Young
At the top of the mountain, I look down and around, trying to clear my head some. [i]Great, on top of everything, it looks like we're on a small island with a volcano on it...[/i]
How's Harry holding up?
I head down the mountain again toward the cave where the stream flows into and gets hotter.
I don't imagine that Harry has had much trouble keeping track of you. After all, when you can't see him you can sense where he is--the direction, not the distance--simply by relaxing, and he feels a bit different both from the men down at the shore and from your other equipment. He seems also to be able to find you the same way.
The return trip down the mountain is not all that much easier, and does not take any less time. It is thus mid afternoon by the time you are back to the cave, within a stone's throw of the camp if you're Sandy Kofax.
--M. J. Young
Court decides to stay and talk to Michael, in the interest of figuring out what's going on.
"Hi," he says, taking a seat on a rock, "Krillis... Kurt says you can explain about how I got here? He tells me I'm not in the same world I passed out in last night, and that I would have died if it weren't for some scriff stuff."
I head to the stream that Michael had pointed out the other day-the non-volcanic one.
There, I'll allow Harry to get something to drink, and I'll dip my head underwater for a moment, just for a final confirmation that I'm actually awake.
Kurt--it's all the same stream. It flows down from the source you found on your trek, then pours into the cave near the camp. Above the cave it's fresh and somewhat cooler, and definitely potable.
Court--Michael responds, "And he left it to me to explain it to you. Well, that's really about all there is to explain. There is this stuff called scriff. From what I'm told, it's not really matter and it's not really energy, but something sub-atomic, the stuff of which quarks are made, maybe. It has some really strange properties. One of them is that it can be used to transmit electricity faster than light without producing heat--it's like the ultimate superconductor--so it gets used in electronics by people who don't understand what it is or how dangerous it is. It has a tendency to escape containers, and even to leak out of the universe entirely. Thing is, it also sticks to electical systems--like your nervous system. So it infects you. Once it does, you become the victim of some of its other properties, particularly pattern memory--it remembers your molecular arrangement and tends to put you back into that shape when the shape is disrupted. Thus when you die, the shock causes the scriff to fix things. But it also leaks out of the universe at that moment, rather abruptly, and it takes you with it; but your material form can't stay between the universes in the ocean of scriff in which all universes float, so you fall into another one.
"This is all rather simplified. I'm sure that Pete Adams could explain it to you in ways that would be completely incomprehensible. I'm not him, and he's not here.
"Anyway, all universes anyone can imagine exist out there somewhere, and you will never age and never stay dead, so it looks like you're in for the grand tour. Remember, some things are impossible in every universe, but nothing is impossible in every universe, if that makes sense."
--M. J. Young
I enter the cave and see what the insides are like.
(Again, I am sorry for how short the posts are.)
The shortness of your posts are not my problem; they only mean I have less to answer, and the game progresses more slowly. The more you say in a post, the more you get back, in most cases.
To enter the cave you have to pass through the pool in its opening; this is deep up to your waist, and hot-tub hot, around a hundred degrees. It soaks your footwear and your clothes. The bottom is smooth, bowl-like, and you could take a hot bath here and a cold shower from some of the water coming down from the stream above, or a hot misting from the drips which fall constantly from the interior roof, condensation from the steam coming out of the cave. The water from the pool spills back into the cave.
The interior of the cave is warmer than the rapidly warming day, and very damp and steamy; water drips from all the walls and runs down the floor toward the interior. You realize from this that the slick smooth rock floor is also sloped slightly such that the water flows into the cave. Accumulation from drips from the ceiling and runoff from the walls, all condensation, feed it, increasing its volume as it goes deeper.
The light from outside is not very bright here at this point; probably in a few hours, as the sun lowers, it will shine more clearly. Hints of rainbow dance here and there near the entrance from the water falling over the opening in irregular patterns.
What are you wearing on your feet?
--M. J. Young
I'd take my shoes and socks off in such a situation, even roll my pants up some (in vain, of course). The shoes are white tennis shoes, though.
If there's nothing hindering me, I also carry Harry over the water (he doesn't like water, but he doesn't fight about getting wet like most cats do). I'll wait until the appropriate part of the day when there'd be light, and then I'll travel a bit further in the cave, attempting to memorize the tunnel's turns, if any.
Your bare feet grip the glass-smooth rock under the stream; you hold Harry in one arm. The sunlight playing through the falling water creates dazzling rainbow patterns on the ceiling ahead--for the cave runs straight but that it is becoming steeper in its downward slope. Warmth and wet come at you, gradually soaking into your clothes. Harry is not comfortable, constantly trying to wash the moisture off his fur.
You see no side passages, just a glass-smooth tube curving downward into the depths ahead.
--M. J. Young
Is there some sort of surface on the inside where I could leave Harry and my clothes?
Is the current too much for me to get my feel off the ground and swim instead? With that, does the water seem cool enough to put my head under it still?
Sorry, my fault--the stream here is shallow. Water pours over the inside lip of the pool, into a curved trough about four to five inches deep in the center, perhaps two to three feet wide. The cave floor is rounded, smoothed evidentally from times when more water ran through here (probably during rainstorms, or if perhaps at some times of the year there might be snow on the summit which melts). Thus although there is "floor" next to the stream, it becomes "wall" rather smoothly, the curve becoming steeper as it moves from the center, and the whole slopes increasingly steeply downward as it moves farther in. This also means that the rate of flow increases and the stream narrows and grows more shallow.
The pool was the deeper part.
Also, this water comes from the pool, and the walls are warm, so the water here is still hot like the hot tub temperatures of the pool. The drips from the ceiling are also extremely hot, and the air temperature growing hotter as you move farther from the cool outside air.
--M. J. Young
Thanks for the deeper explanation. I suppose I was just having one of those days where I couldn't visualize it that well. It might be the plurisy antibiotics or something.
Okay, then...
I'll exit the cave if I'm able to, and I'll attempt to work my way back to DiVars' camp. If he and Court are still talking, I'll wait my turn and ask DiVars kindly, "Um...would there be any chance that you'd have a knife? I wouldn't want to take it, but I'm completely willing to trade, if anything of mine interests you."
I drop my bag *I didn't take it into the stream with me, by the way* in front of him so that he could check my stuff out.
You return from the cave safely. Court and di Vars are still talking, but interrupt on your approach.
Di Vars merely glances at your bag. "I can't imagine that there's anything in there that I would want," he says.
"Unless--well, you don't have a pound of coffee in there, do you?"
Your equipment sheet says you don't; it would be inappropriate to let you change that now without a roll and a good argument.
"I can let you borrow," he emphasizes, "a knife. What do you want to do with it? After all, the knife you use to cut through vines and bring down cocoanuts is different from the one you use to whittle a spear point, which is different again from the one you use to carve this bird, and different again from the one you use to kill a man in a fight. Knowing what you intend to do with the knife is critical to knowing what kind of knife you need."
--M. J. Young
"Well, I suppose you've just given me an idea of what I want to do. Can I borrow one to whittle a spear with? How do you tell the types of knives apart?"
If I get the knife to borrow, I'll head out into the woods and work on finding a bunch of long, strong sticks that I could use for spears (no more than 10 of good quality). I also look for blocks of wood that I could whittle into small sculptures.
Then, I'll sit in the woods and work on whittling the sticks into good spear points, and examine their effectiveness by stabbing them into the ground.
He raises an eyebrow and then shakes his head, as if he finds the question elementary.
Reaching to various points on his body, he draws out
- a pocket knife, two slightly convex edged blades, one just over three inches long and the other closer to two, plus a third thick pointed blade about one and a half inches long;
- a machete, roughly fifteen inches in blade length plus a six inch handle, the single edge straight until within four inches of the tip, when it curves back to meet the back, and a five inch handle with a molded grip and larger slightly concave (from the perspective of the grip) hilt;
- a sheath knife, blade about five to six inches, top and bottom curved parabolicly to a centered point, the bottom edge sharp to the hilt the top about half way back, and a blood groove just above center and a four inch rounded handle behind the hilt;
- from his pack, a long thin knife, about ten to twelve inches to the blade, half inch from blade to back along the straight part of the edge, which curves back to meet the back in a sharp point at the tip, with a comfort grip and not much hilt.
Assuming you can correctly identify the right knife for whittling, you will have no problem finding fallen wood, standing wood, bamboo, squaw wood, and of course trees and vines for your whittling enjoyment.
Do you have any experience whittling?
--M. J. Young
I point and respond in order:
Machette: "I'd use that one to cut the vines with."
Sheathe Knife: "That one would be for killing a man."
Long Knife: "You probably used that to cut the bird."
Pocket Knife: "Which would leave that one as the one you'd whittle with. The smaller blade would probably add precision and control into it, which is important for whittling."
My whittling experience is very low. I did a little when I was younger, and I did take a shop class; however, I've never whittled anything too intricate. I know how to do it without cutting myself, though.
He smiles, and hands you the pocket knife.
"This is not a gift," he says. "It leaves with me."
We'll give you a 1@4 below average amateur skill ability level on carving, and the same on use knife. The former is a T2@3 skill, and the latter a T3@3.
Are you looking for bamboo or some other wood for your spears?
--M. J. Young
"Understood, then." I head out into the forest.
I'd like to get bamboo for the spears; however, if I find any wood of decent length and a better quality than bamboo, then I'll pick it up. Other than that, I'll pick up fallen pieces of wood or driftwood by the beach.
I'm content with bamboo if I can't find anything else, though.
I'm confused. You seem to be saying first that you would prefer bamboo, then that if you can't find bamboo you will use whatever you find, and finally that you will settle for bamboo if you do not find anything better.
There is ample bamboo. The trees are tropical, mostly fruit trees such as bananas, cocoanuts, oranges, mangoes, and such. These do not generally produce long straight branches or trunks, although you can find young trees that are about the right size for a spear. Driftwood is not that common. Temperate clime deciduous trees such as maples, apples, and oaks are absent, although there are coniferous trees in the higher elevations on the mountainside such as pine and fir, and some cedar around the occasionally marshy spots near the coast.
So, what exactly are you hoping to find for your spears?
--M. J. Young
Dealing with spears...
Sorry for being unclear-I was looking for good quality wood, but would settle with bamboo.
I'll try to find three smaller trees that are good for making spears; however, I'll also gather the seven best lengths of bamboo to make spears out of as well. For now, I'm just going to use my action to make these ten spears.
It takes a while to find three straight trees of the right length and diameter, although bamboo is simple enough. You then set to trimming them and carving points. Have you any particular thoughts about this project, or is this just being done as you go along?
You struggle with the knife and the wood, but your skill just is not coming together right. You keep breaking points just when you think you've got them sharp. After a couple hours, you have a stack of sticks but no spears.
--M. J. Young
I'm using the whittling to help me stay relaxed some. I'll find a nice, soft spot in the forest to sit while working on this stuff, and I will put my entire attention into it.
I'll work through the bamboo's first, until I can get it down pat. After the failures, I will just take it slower, attempting to perhaps whittle less away at a time. It may take longer, but I hope that it will yield better results.
Although you are getting a better feel for the knife, you are not managing to get anything useful carved.
The odd thing is that it seems very much as if the knife is not working as well as you would expect it. It seems to be sharp enough and strong enough, but it does not do the job you anticipate.
You've used most of the afternoon on this project, and realize that you've not eaten for hours and that it is nearing sunset.
--M. J. Young
I'll look around for some good logs that seem the right material to whittle, and I'll begin my walk back to DiVars' camp.
I kick the dirt a little while I head back, disappointed in my inability to make a simple spear. I'll bring a failed bamboo spear attempted as well as a fresh bamboo piece, in hopes that DiVars could help me out.
Once there, if DiVars is awake and not busy, I'll ask him if he knows how to whittle spears. I'll also be open with him about how hungry Harry and I are.
You get back to di Vars' camp.
"Bias," he says. "I wondered. See, all worlds are biased--they can favor certain kinds of things, or they can oppose them. You've come from a world with a high tech bias. Machines, tools, the things of technology work easily there. This world has a very low tech bias. Sometimes a tech bias can be low enough that things don't work at all, but more often it's just that they don't work as easily or as well. You're having trouble carving because this world doesn't give you the support for using tools, so it's more difficult to do anything. If you were better at it, you would still find it more difficult, but you would probably be more successful.
"The same thing happens with magic and psionics, and with body skills, too, although these tend to be a bit more stable. I have not often been in worlds where my martial arts stuff didn't work--although I have been in worlds in which people could do those kung fu movie things like move a hand in a way that focuses a force that hits someone across the room, and that's not something you can do in most worlds. Some worlds just drip with magic, and you can do anything, quite literally; others make magic so difficult it's safer not to try anything at all unless you're really desperate. Same with mind powers, easy in some places, hard in others. One of the tricks in traveling the multiverse is figuring out what works and what doesn't, what's easy and what's dangerous, in each new world. Always start slow, with the easy stuff, if you can. Of course, if you find yourself in an airlock that's rapidly depressurizing, it's probably better to pull out your pressure suit and air tank and hope it works than try to light a match to see whether you can start fires. Not everything that looks like technology actually is, and not everything that looks like magic actually is, but that's a good way to start.
"I don't think you've got any trouble with your technique; you're just not good enough at this to do it well enough when the bias is low. Also, if you're having trouble making a spear, you're going to have trouble using one, too, unless you happen to be really good at using spears and just forgot to bring them with you."
Di Vars still has something cooking, and is still sharing it. He can't eat an entire seagull himself in the time it takes for it to spoil.
I'm not certain what happened to Court, but for his attention, if he comes back he can have the time to discuss whatever he wishes with di Vars, even if this thread has by then ended.
--M. J. Young
"That's crazy... Some worlds are simply biased against things? What, do they just not like certain skills or something?" I shake my head some.
"I have a bad feeling that this verser thing is going to be hard to get used to. I suppose that I should get to work so that I'll be better off in my next world." I then get off of my seat and get on the ground, starting to do push-ups.
I have a normal system that I do for push-ups and sit ups. It starts with 10 of each, then 9 of each, 8 of each, down to 1 of each. The alternating gives muscles time to have a break while also eventually adding up to 50 of each. But in this world, I'm going to start at 20 of each and I'll try as hard as I can to complete the exercise.
I'm assuming that this program is daily, and that it takes about half an hour to complete, and that you anticipate it improving your strength and stamina. Would you concur with that?
"Good plan," he says. "I don't think we have too long here."
--M. J. Young
Yes, I could concur with that.
For the time being, I'd like to reorient my actions. I'll stick with DiVars and watch him closely in the things that he does. While he's in the camp and if the free food holds, I plan on doing multiple sessions of that exercising whenever I feel energized enough to do so. I'll spend the nights resting.
All of this, unless something new happens or if there's an opportunity to learn something from what DiVars does during the day.
Di Vars seems to be patiently awaiting something. He watches the mountain. Periodically, when the food is running short, he shoots another bird and fetches it.
His marksmanship is superb, and his targets rarely land more than a few feet from his seat. He uses several different weapons for this, ranging from a hand crossbow to some sort of ray gun.
One of his targets lands in the ocean. He wades out, and soon disappears beneath the surface. Either he swims under the water, or what seems more likely walks across the bottom, for well over a minute, then snatches the body of the bird from the surface and comes back the same way, walking out of the sea dripping wet.
This continues over several days.
--M. J. Young