One of your coworkers, being the sort of fellow who keeps up with the constantly advancing technological market, has a brand new cell phone. It's on a 5G network, and is enhanced with scriff technology, which is very big in the news recently, being hailed as the "next big thing" in technology. (In other news, missing persons cases are on the rise; the correlation between these two facts is unrecognized.)
At any rate, within a few days your coworker has another new phone. He tells you you can have his old one, because he doesn't want to have to put up with the hassle of selling his old one. It's the same brand as yours, so it's really a simple process to change everything over; however, before you have a chance to, he drops it, startled, as your superior tells you to get back to work. It seems fine, though perhaps landed in something golden and cohesive. Thinking little of it, you wipe it off, and then you go on with your day, keeping the new device in your pocket.
On the commute home, there's a bad windstorm. To make matters worse, your car seems to have a flat tire just a couple miles from home. You pull over and get out, intending to check the tire, and a tree limb knocks down a telephone pole. The electric wire lands right on you. You feel the paralysis of far too much electricity coursing through your body. You pass out.
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You wake up laying on your back on a hard, uneven surface. You smell the pungent odor of sulfur somewhere nearby; the temperature is roughly eighty five to ninety FOUR degrees, and you are in full sun judging by the brightness beyond your eyelids, not to mention that you are sweating like a pig. You hear seagulls calling in the distance and the far away crashing of waves lapping a shoreline.
FOUR!!!!
Ahem.
I hate heat.
Presuming the heat and sulfur are a result of my recent electrocution, I groan and try flexing my fingers and toes.
Wait, seagulls? Ocean?
Once I feel strong enough, I'll shield my eyes from the sun and open them to look around.
From your vantage point, you see a gorgeous ocean view, the like you would see only in a postcard.
It looks as if you're laying on an igneous mountain, similar to a volcano. In various places you see plants, some tropical fruit-bearing, some not. You also see the seagulls off in the distance, down by the shoreline, which looks to be several miles down the mountain from your location.
Your various items that would have been with you in the car are here, several feet from you. You feel a sensation of having left something to your right, around the side of the mountain.
I check myself for any injuries or marks, specifically looking for any indication of dragging or collision. There's no way an explosion could have sent me 40 miles to the shore. Wait - igneous? Tropical plants? Maybe I was kidnapped and dumped here, but how long have I been out?
Do I feel groggy and confused? I must have been drugged to be taken so far away.
How steep is the area I am on? How close am I to the summit? Looking along the horizon, how much vantage do I have? Is there anything besides shoreline in any direction?
There are plants; are there trees?
What does the sky look like? What color is it? Can I see moon, stars? Are there clouds, what color are they? How high in the sky is that dreaded sun?
I smell sulfur - do I smell sea salt? Can I smell anything else?
Can I hear the ocean? Can I hear anything else?
I frequently do not record the numbers for certain rolls; attribute checks, skill checks, and GE rolls, for various reasons that mainly have to do with characters using information the player has. If you want to play to learn, let me know =P because I can't think of many other arguments that would convince me to show the rolls =)
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You do feel a bit groggy, but not chemically so; it doesn't feel like waking up from a hangover, but more like waking up from having slept too long.
You don't feel particularly more hungry or thirsty than when you passed out, though, suggesting you haven't been out very long.
The summit, or your best guess at where it is from where you're standing, is a good thousand feet up and to the direction which was behind you when you woke up. It is clear as day; neither smoke nor steam can be seen rising from the peak at your vantage point.
The direction which was behind you you cannot see shoreline in; though, as you see just the steep igneous mountain, that's no proof that you are not on an island, simply evidence that if it were a peninsula, that direction would have to be where the land is. The sky is blue, the clouds are white, cumulous, and high in the sky. The sun is yellow, roughly about the same size as you'd expect.
You do hear and smell the ocean in the distance, particularly when you look in that direction; the sulfurous smell is more pungent, and seems to be blowing down from the peak.
There are palm trees in sight, mostly down close to the shore.
You see neither other land nor boats; it appears blissfully unsoiled by human action.
You see no moon or stars.
Do you feel confused?
Probably. I know I would. =P
I don't mind if you keep the rolls hidden.
--
I take off my coat and lay it down, then gather my strewn belongings and distribute them into plastic bags. I hook the handaxe under my belt, stuff my coat into another bag, and pull out my cell phone to see if I can get any reception while I start to walk in the direction of the items I feel I left behind. Along the way, I'll examine the plant life and gather a few specimens of fruit and berries into a bag, preserving as much of a connecting stem as possible.
I'll scan the horizon as I circle the mountain, looking for any signs of habitation, or anything that looks significantly different from the general scenery.
As you pick your way around the mountain, you see a plume of smoke rising in the distance in the same direction as the feeling seems to be emanating from. It looks small enough to be a campfire.
The fruits and berries look familiar and edible; bananas, pineapples, coconuts, papayas, starfruit, and other tropical fruits.
As you draw closer to what is clearly a campfire (you can see it clearly now), a lone figure comes into view, seated beside it. It looks to be a small boy. He glances in your direction, then looks back to the fire.
As you approach still closer, you realize that something about the boy seems oddly familiar; he is exceptionally cute, though. He has some of the quality you might expect from a model in full makeup, even at this distance.
His overall demeanor is one of wariness and suspicion, but he does not seem threatening or hostile.
OH NO IT'S JUSTIN BIEBER! Wait, you said he looks like a boy, nevermind.
I'll approach at a moderate pace, slowing when I am about 30 feet away and stopping about 15 to raise my hand in greeting. I'll study his face and mannerisms a moment to see if I recognize him any better. I'll take the opportunity to put my bags down and stretch, glance around the fire to see if he is cooking, or if there is anything else noteworthy, before looking back.
"Hi," I begin, "I'm sorry to intrude on your camp, but I think I left something here. Did you see anything lying around?"
It never fails, you write a long post and the forum eats it.
Anyway.
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He waves to you in response, and smiles.
The similarities between this boy and Justin Bieber end at young pretty boy. This boy appears to be only about ten, with dark features. As you approach closer, it is clear to you that he is not wearing makeup; his appearance is simply without flaw. He is clearly built and in serious shape. Still, there is something about his appearance that does remind you of something that you can't seem to put your finger on.
The phrase "his camp" is used very loosely; he has no tent, though he has several bags and duffels. Most notable of these is a black bag at his feet with an ornate weapon case, about three and a half feet long, sticking slightly from the top. He has a dark grey bo stick sitting across his lap, and is seated lotus-style.
"Yeah," he tells you with an ideolect so familiar it nearly irks you. "Your stuff is right over there. I didn't touch it. You don't have to act like I don't know, though."
You do see your things, beyond the campfire, in much the same way as you had left them at your house.
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After all, it was only a couple miles from where you got the flat tire.
Haha, you drop me own my own brother and expect me to not know who he is? :P The verse does change people though, and I'm certain I wouldn't recognize him as he is now any more than he'd recognize me.
--
"Don't know?" Confused, I set the thought aside a moment. "Thank you for gathering my belongings. I'm glad an animal didn't run off with them." I mull over what he might have meant by the statement, before giving up and simply asking, "Don't know what?"
"I didn't gather them," he tells you. "They appeared when you did."
When you ask the question, he stands up and throws a rock angrily down the mountain. He looks up to the sky and yells, "What is it with this island?!"
Having gotten over himself, he turns to you and smiles. "You should probably sit down." Whether you do or not, he continues. "Save your questions for the end, please. You died for the first time recently; you probably had an electrical accident of some kind, and a golden mercury-like substance called scriff was probably involved. Because of that, the scriff was activated in your body, and now, you're a verser.
"What that means is, you won't grow older over time, you can't have kids, and you can't die. Every time you get shot to death by the police, or die in other ways, you and your belongings within a certain mass limit 'verse out'; you go to another universe within the multiverse. Almost everyone asks, can I ever go home? I know now that the answer is yes, but you can never be who you were again. Gotta keep moving forward." He smiles good-naturedly, and tells you, "My name's Ky. Yours?"
When he tells you his name, you realize who he reminds you of; though your younger brother certainly was nowhere nearly as cute, nor in at all similar physical condition.
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Well, maybe almost as cute. ;P
I squat down to listen, to give my legs a rest, a habit I developed when I was doing stock work and we were forbidden from sitting. I recall the golden substance on the cell phone, and the new high-tech scriff network technology. And the electrocution.
At the end of his explanation, I stand back up, trying to make sense of everything. It seems like too great of a coincidence for the boy to resemble my younger brother, have the same name, and be the only person on the first island I visit after death. But I know my brother grew up, had a girlfriend and a daughter, so this is all too confusing.
My head swimming with details, I push them aside a moment. "Nice to meet you, Ky. I'm Ryan." Pausing a moment, I consider the passage of time. It's been 15-16 years for me, but if what he says is true about not aging and multiple worlds, I have no way of knowing how long it's been for him or what sort of resentment he may bear. "You remind me of my younger brother, from a long time ago anyway."
Not really knowing what to expect him to say to that, I say, "So, you mentioned being frustrated at the island. Have you been here long?"
"No," he responds, "Just a few days, really. It's just that almost every time I'm here, there are new versers who need to be told what's happening to them.
"I did have a brother named Ryan. Maybe you're his divergent from another universe. Funny how those things work out.
"Things you once only imagined will be possible in some worlds you find yourself in; magic, psionics, warp engines, time travel, dragons. Certain abilities will work better than others in certain worlds. Usually, it seems that if there isn't a lot of technology, people use magic, and vice vrsa, but there are worlds that break the mold and have both or neither.
"Personally, I try to avoid the question altogether by focusing on martial arts."
"Sound logic, that. So, magic is real? And dragons, and time travel? And psionics, like in AD&D? That all seems pretty unreal, but the fact that you're standing here, and the fact that I'm standing here, really goes a long way to 'snapping my (dis)belief suspenders'."
Remembering Groundhog Day, and the amount of study Bill Murray crammed into just 6 weeks of time, I say, "I guess when you have an eternity, you can go a long way to refining your own skills. You must be a machine by now, huh?"
Following his train of thought, something occurs to me. The sulfur smell. "So, you've been here more than once, to perform a sort of...induction ceremony...I'm guessing that the island isn't very stable?" As I ask the last bit, I indicate the top of the volcanic mountain with a jerk of my thumb. "How much time do we have?"
"D&D isn't just real. I once met a couple of the guys from Tiras Ariach Kittim's Valdron party."
§
Definitely SP on that one.
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"Yeah; mainly, I kill, and I'm pretty good at what I do." He gets a mischievious glint in his eye. "Speaking of D&D, and killing," he takes the weapon box out of his bag, and retrieves from it a very finely crafted, beautiful, and functional lajatang.
"Well, it isn't steaming, and it was yesterday; that usually means that wherever the air was escaping from before has gotten plugged up, so it could be later tonight or tomorrow, several days at the most. The longer it waits, the bigger the boom."
"Wow, that's an impressive piece." Pursing my lips, I ask, "So, what do I do now? Is there anything you can show me that may help me out in the time to come?"
"Well, we don't have very much time... but yes, actually, as a matter of fact, there is something I can teach you."
He instructs you in how to achieve a state which is twice as restful as sleep while completely alert.
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The skill is 1@1 Alert Rest B10@4.
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You achieve the state, and he enthuses you. You feel as if you have gained a much deeper understanding of the way your body works.
He returns the lajatang to its case, and purses his lips in thought.
"Here," he tells you, handing you the case. "I can find another somewhere, and I can take care of myself pretty well without it. You never know what you might need an implement of death as handy as this one."
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It is Lajatang of Quality, rf 2, lethal, +8 damage modifier.
"Aah, I wouldn't even know how to begin to use this." Accepting the weapon reverently, I ask, "Are you sure you want to part with it? I am no expert but even I can see its value and quality." I hold it in front of myself as I inspect it, feeling hesitant to accept so great a gift with any haste.
"Thank you for showing me this technique. It will come in handy in more ways than I am sure I can think up."
"Well yeah, I'm sure," he responds to you. "I can defend myself pretty well without it; but you're going to have to learn to use it."
He hands you a stick (not his stick) (it is too small to be a bo in your hands, but is close to the same size as the lajatang) and instructs you in martial arts.
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1@2 Chow En Lai fast aggressive weapon dependent form hand and arm type weapon rf 2 +20 offensive sitmod B7@1
1@2 Great Jump RS/3' B5@6
1@1 Lajatang B7@1*
*Note on martial arts weapon skills: Any martial arts weapon skill you learn is translatable to any style that is not weapon adverse.
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He teaches you the first ability in the style Chow En Lai, then glances up the mountain at the peak.
"If you want," he tells you, "I can teach you my favorite style until the eruption. I doubt we have enough time for you to master the basics, but at least you can get the foundation."
Presuming you don't decline, he teaches you the basic movements of Gazuntite.
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1@1 Gazuntite Fast-defensive weapon-utilizing form body type grapple rf 2 -15 defensive sitmod +10 offensive damage mod B7@1
1@3 Leaping kick, base damaging, 5' running start, on failure fall for annoying damage
1@2 Bo stick B7@1
I spend time taking his instruction, simultaneously grateful and interested.
"Thank you for taking the time to explain things to me. It's a lot to take in, but without your help I would not have known what to make of my situation for a very long time." After a pause, I ask, "So, have you been killed by this volcano before? Have you ever tried to escape that fate?"
"Not too much point," he responds. "Even if you survive, then what'll you do? Dehydrate on a raft in the middle of the ocean? Get eaten by sharks? There isn't any land anywhere else on the planet."
"I see. Not much of a choice I guess, but it's a shame there's not a less painful approach. What now?"
"We rest," he tells you.
You successfully use the Alert Rest skill to pass half the night.
While you are resting, you feel a distinct tremoring in the ground.
Well, he said there's nothing here, so I just wait and watch.
The rumbling becomes an all out earthquake, disrupting both of you from your restful states.
"Nice," he comments.
With a blast of molten rock from the summit, an enormous creature bursts forth from the volcano. It is man shaped, but with the face of a lizard and completely red (and thus clearly much stronger than if it were baby blue or lavender). You can see it down to its waist level, the remainder still inside the volcano.
"Well," Kyler says, "That's different." He begins ascending the mountain with his stick in hand.
"Wha-what is that..?!" When he sets out, I follow wielding the Lajatang. "How do you fight something that big? Should we try to flank it?"
Having already accepted the fact that we're going to die, the idea that I can do something besides sitting and waiting for it to happen makes me feel less helpless.
"Lucky for us, it's so big that we can't miss it, and we're small enough compared to it that hopefully we'll be able to --"
He gets clipped by a flying rock bigger than he is.
The giant creature lets out a deafening scream, and kicks its leg out through the mountain in your direction.
The spray of magma kills you before you make much distance through the air.
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New thread coming soon, stay tuned.