Opening gameplay.
You don't know where you are. You don't know how you got there. You don't know the people next to you.
All that you can feel is fear.
You are in an alley. All around is a wall of sickly yellow fog, tumbling through the alley’s canyon of crumbling, gray brick walls like some jaundiced flash flood. Ahead, the unfamiliar alley splits, curving to the left and right. Behind, from the silent swell of mist, emanates the sound of footsteps— slow, but somehow keeping pace with the careening, hungry wave.
Roll initiative!
A gaunt, yellowed specimen of an elf, perhaps so colored from the baleful fog's unnerving glow, scrambled on long legs down the collapsing path presented to him.
His black eyes were wide, and his mouth was open in fevered panting.
A human of Varisian ancestry, yet dressed in practical, plain clothes leans against the wall, eyes wildly flicking about. A light breeze seems to kick up around him, blowing the eddies of the mist back from him. He looks about wildly at these strangers and the unfamiliar street before turning and running towards the split, away from the footsteps in the mist.
A woman, tall and dressed in non-descript clothing looks around blankly. The yellow fog, the strange faces, non gets any reaction beyond the vague confusion on her face. She doesn't seem to know how to react.
Aurela stood in the odd alley alongside others, but knew absolutely nothing about who or where she was; much less who those around her were, or what was going on. A Chelish girl of slight stature barely out of her teens, she dressed in little more that tattered robes and well-worn, half broken leathers, and carried a simple spear in need of repairs. A chill ran through her, all she knew was fear as she tried to process her surroundings…
”Who..? What..?”
The female stands up from a crouch, almost unseen until she realizes there's nowhere to hide. A catfolk with the fur coloration of an Ocelot, she is lithe and slim and still curvy in the right places, though her fur standing up in her alert state makes her seem slightly larger than she normally would. Her golden cat-eyes widen as she takes in the fog.
"This certainly doesn't bode well..." she murmurs, grasping her hands together in anxiety. She backs away from the fog, looking at both the up and down paths and considering which she could bolt through.
You see these others; people you feel you should know, but don't. There is an odd familiarity pulling at your mind, but there is no time for questions.
The alley walls sag, battered brick slumping over the path, nearly blotting out the bruised twilight sky. Again the grimy cobblestone path splits. This time one route curves uphill, while the other recklessly descends. Behind, the yellow fog and the relentless sound of pursuit grow closer.
Some of you go uphill, some of you descend, driven by the primal need to get away from this unknown horror. You move, granted fleetness by the adrenaline coursing through you, through unknown passages...and yet, when you come around into another alley, you are surrounded by all the others that were there previously; somehow, your path has led you all to the same place...that has to be it.
The mist parts, now mere steps behind. A mask of gray rags emerges, strips of something fleshier than fabric worming and constricting across a body that’s almost humanlike; but too lean, and far too flexible. Gauzy gray ribbons reach out like tendrils, each grasping for less doubtful flesh to claim. As the mist continues to part you see that flesh make up a body that is humanoid in appearance, though wrapped head to toe in bandages and possessing a mouth that would fit well upon a demon of the Abyss, a maw ready to savage any before it.
Luccia, what do you do?
The catfolk backpedals away from the creature, her fur standing on end and her lips peeled back from her teeth with a hiss.
Luccia; you go full defensive.
It is not enough. In your last moments, lying on the ground, staring up at this horror as the life leaks out from your savaged, mutilated body, it was never going to be enough.
It falls on you, and mist surrounds the both of you. Neither you, Luccia, nor anyone else can see what occurs, but you feel the pain. You are being ripped apart.
The mist parts again just as an unseen blade slashes across your throat, and that is when you fall to the ground, pondering the aforementioned thoughts before breathing your last.
And the hungry mist consumes your fallen form.
Groggily, you realize that you are not in some strange alien city. Looking around, you are in a prion cell. Slumbering next to you is one of the people that you had come across in the bizarre place that you now know had to be a dream.
There is only dim light, and looking through the bars of your cell, you can see that it is given off by a lit brazier in the center of the room. Also in the center is a wooden table that has what appears to be a humanoid man strapped to it. He is covered in blood and wounds, and is weeping. He seems to be muttering something, over and over, like a chant, but you can't quite make out what it is.
Dustfingers, after seeing this, what do you do?
Running down a collapsing pathway can lead to unforeseen backtracking. As a falling alley wall caused the elf to scramble out of the way, his eyes were cast back in time to see what looked like a shrouded corpse carve up a strange chimera of human and feline. The fog consumes what remains and roils onwards.
"No no no..." His legs found themselves again and fought to outpace the hungry mist, his thin mouth feverishly chanting "No" as if in desperate prayer.
Seeing the word appear just out of his line of sight, Dustfingers hissed "Yesss!" as the bones in his fingers burst out from the tips to form disgusting claws. Using these, he leapt up to the falling rubble and tried to outclimb the collapse.
Dustfingers, you climb, attempting to move out of the way. You ascend, and keep climbing higher. You are sure that you will make it...and then your handholds break away, betraying your climb and causing you to fall.
You could not have climbed this far. There is no way. It seems as though it takes an eternity, and when you hit the ground, you do so with the impact of a quarrel fired from a crossbow. Your body simply explodes, bone and viscera and blood erupting in a display of carnage.
And again, the fog consumes the remains and presses on...
Fifteen, what do you do?
There is only dim light, and looking through the bars of your cell, you can see that it is given off by a lit brazier in the center of the room. Also in the center is a wooden table that has what appears to be a humanoid man strapped to it. He is covered in blood and wounds, and is weeping. He seems to be muttering something, over and over, like a chant, but you can't quite make out what it is.
Renlo's eyes widen with fright as he watches the cat-like woman get murdered by some shrouded figure and the elf die gruesomely from a fall as he tried to climb away. That he thinks he sees words from their blood only confuses him. Up? Save? What does that mean? He desperately tries to think of a way to escape.
"Go! Run!" Devram yells at the others, whoever they were. The words come out in a hoarse croak. He hurls himself at the figure, a frightful feeling welling up inside him. He tries to push the creature back into the dangerous mists.
Fifteen just stands and stares at the mist, with no idea of what she should actually do.
Nothing happens yet, Fifteen.
Sorry! Aurela and then Renlo.
Anyone else in the cell?
Aurela looked around frantically; the walls were bearing down, the mists had parted, and some...thing was hunting them. She heard the carnage of the catfolk's murder, and saw the gore from the climber's fall... The alley looked just like the one they had woken up in, and she feared running away would be fruitless -- but seeing the demonic, bandaged thing in the fog, she couldn't devise any better plan.
"Run!" she said. "There has to be a way out, there has to be!" Aurel ran away from the fog, as fast her legs would carry her.
”I don’t know who you are, but you’re talking sense. Let’s run!” Renlo takes off running down the alley, hoping to avoid the creature at least for now. But what do “Up” And “Save” mean?
Aurela, you and Renlo sprint away, trying to find some way out of this nightmarish place.
Fifteen, you stand there, transfixed, attempting to understand something, anything about what is going on.
The mist billows forward, enveloping you completely.
Luccia, it's your turn.
Except it's not.
As your consciousness dwindles, you expect to fade into the afterlife, or some sort of non-existence. Instead, you are lying on the ground, in your own body, free of pain and injury. You are wearing whatever outfit you selected as your starting outfit, but have none of your other possessions.
Groggily, you realize that you are not in some strange alien city. Looking around, you are in a prion cell. Across from you, in another cell, seem to be some of the people that you had come across in the bizarre place that you now know had to be a dream.
There is only dim light, and looking through the bars of your cell, you can see that it is given off by a lit brazier in the center of the room. Also in the center is a wooden table that has what appears to be a humanoid man strapped to it. He is covered in blood and wounds, and is weeping. He seems to be muttering something, over and over, like a chant, but you can't quite make out what it is.
"Save...me..."
Aurela and Renlo, you round a corner, running in fear, and as you do so, something heavy sails between you, impacting the wall with a wet, sickening thump. Blood and brain matter from a cracked skull decorate the wall of the alley, and you recognize, though it is ruined, the head of the woman that was just enveloped by the mist.
The catgirl is wearing a light colored set of tights, and a ruffled long-sleeved shirt. Her belt, footwear, and any other bits of gear seem to be absent at the moment.
She whirls upon Dustfinger's awakening, but she stops herself from... slapping him (?) across the face, a perplexed look of recognition crossing her expression. She holds up a finger in front of her lips.
"Shush." she mutters to the other cell occupant. "I don't like the idea of being locked up."
Keeping her eyes out for anyone outside the cells, she quietly approaches her cell door as long as she's unobserved, feeling around the bars for the keyhole and probing it with her fingers. She doesn't really remember how she knows how to do it, but she gets a feeling for what kind of lock it is.
Luccia tenses one finger, extending a long and sharp claw, carefully, she starts picking the lock, manipulating the tumblers carefully with her claw.
Renlo stops running. "Wake up? If I am asleep, then this must be a dream, and ending the dream will allow me to wake up. But how to end the dream?" Renlo looks about, searching for anything that will allow him to wake up before his eyes settle on the mist. "Oh, I don't like this idea at all."
Aurela drew sharp, heavy breaths and tried not to stare at the dead woman's head. She was about to start running again when the man with her started talking nonsense. "No, c'mon focus!" she snapped. "Whatever you're thinking... That mist will kill us! We'll find a way out, a building, something! C'mon..." Aurela resumed running, as fast as she could manage.
The sudden transition to somewhere completely different would have jarred Fifteen's thought process, if there was one to jar. Completely oblivious to the fact that she is wearing little more than a stained and torn shift Fifteen stands up and walks forward, reaching out to touch the bars with curiosity.
Startled by the awakening, Dustfinger's body jerked about as he thought he had crashed into the collapsing floor. His eyes popped open, and frantically darted around.
The catfolk's hiss caused a slight jump, but he did not relax when he saw her. "What in--!"
Her shush convinced him to keep his mouth shut, and he simply nodded. He watched as she went to work, her delicate claws clicking about inside the locks. Hearing other stirrings, the elf saw the others dealing with nightmares of their own in cells to either side of him.
Rising from his mat he heard the whisper from the man across the hall. Dustfingers padded over on bare feet, gripping the bars and pressing his face between two. "How?" he asked, asking more than one question with that one word. How did we get here? How can we help?
, he shouts, and at that point, you see in the dim light, three other figures, in cells similar to yours, start with cries and wake from their slumber.
To your sensations, you are traveling faster than any mortal has ever even dreamed, witnessing cloudbursts and supernovas of impossible colors and shapes as your dream-selves are shunted forcefully back into your slumbering physical forms.
All of you make some sort of exclamation as you wake; you cannot help it. Your bodies are sweating, and your pulse is high; anyone with a rank in Heal knows that your body is producing excessive adrenaline right now.
And at last, all of our heroes wake.
You have none of your equipment, and if you have a familiar or animal companion, they are not present.
The man strapped to the table pauses in his sobbing and screaming to draw in a ragged breath. He looks around, panicked, and finally sees that you all have woken. You see something in his eyes; the ghost of long-abandoned hope.
"You're awake! Thank the Gods, I-"
That's as far as he gets.
Somewhere, due east of you, you hear a door crash open, followed immediately by the sounds of footsteps on stairs. Whoever is coming down is humming an eerie tune.
Another door opens, and this time you can see which one. It is due east, and appearing through the portal is a person finely dressed. You cannot see their face; they are wearing a plague doctor mask.
As they appear, the man on the table begins to sob and thrash against his bindings. He says "No no no no no" in a panicked voice over and over again.
The apparent doctor approaches the table.
What do you all do?
Renlo looks about the darkened room, seeing the people from the dream as his heart races in his chest. So, I was right. But even those who were slain are here. Perhaps why would these people be in my dream?
Standing, he looks at the man and, as the doctor appears, gets a slightly scared look on his face. Is there plague? If so, why are we locked in these cells? What is happening?
Where am I?
Uncertain what is going on, Renlo says, "Doctor, let us out of these cells. If there is plague, we must be gone from this place!"
Renlo, the doctor whips it's head around to you, the humming abruptly coming to an end.
"Awake already? Much sooner than expected...don't you worry, my pretty, you'll have my attention soon enough!"
The doctor then returns it's attention to the man on a table, and takes out a scalpel.
"Now...where to make my next incision..."
Dustfingers, seeing the doctor descend the stairs, lets go of the bars and backs away slowly, averting his gaze and wringing his hands. A hospital? No, worse, an asylum. Why? Is it because of that dream? He holds his head in his hands, shaking feverishly. Why can't I remember?
Aurela got to her feet. The rush of motion made her light-headed, but she regained her focus and looked around.
She saw the doctor and the patient, and the keyring... Then heard he voice of the man in the alley, and the doctor's response. None of it made sense. A shared dream? And no memory of how she had gotten in the cell. Aurela looked herself over and only vaguely recognized the plain gray robe she wore. She tried to calm herself, and searched herself for injuries.
You find no injuries on your person, Aurela. You seem hale and healthy.
The doctor makes their way to the person on the table, still writhing against their bonds. Somehow, their leg actually manages to break free, and the man kicks the doctor, catching them off guard. The doctor stumbles back several steps before colliding with the cell door that houses Dustfingers and Luccia, key ring tantalizingly close.
Dustfingers and Luccia, you may take one action. What do you do?
Devram whimpers loudly as he opens his eyes. Pain shoots through his body and he curls up again and whimpers again. He finally turns over at the sounds of shouting.
He sees the masked doctor. "Who are you? What did you do to me?!" His hand goes up to the back of his head and he feels metal staples running down his spine.
Saving him? I need to get the hells out of here. she thinks to herself. ... Wherever this is.
Luccia will not see anything of importance on the strange doctor but will reach through the bars as the doctor hits her cell. Her fingernails pop out, lethally sharp, and she slices her claws across the doctor's neck.
Without tools, Luccia, you can't really make any headway.
You hit with your attack. Once Dustfingers posts his action I'll resolve the sequence.
At the unexpected damage, the doctor whirls, hissing beneath it's mask.
"You will regret that, when your time comes. Oh, my, you will."
As the doctor turns, Dustfingers, you note that the keys have flown off of the doctor's belt, landing in your cell. After staring at Luccia for a moment, the doctor's head snaps back towards the man strapped to the table.
"But first, we must take care of hostile patient!"
And with that, the doctor falls upon the man, thrusting over and over with the scalpel. The man screams in pain, but shortly falls silent, gurgling as his life is cut short. The doctor seems in a frenzy, knifing the fresh body over and over again. The doctor appears to be paying no attention to anything else.
What do you do?
"Excuse me? What's going on?"
Fifteen's quiet questions are drowned out by the violence which erupts between the doctor and the people in the opposite cell and as the doctor messily dispatches the man strapped to the table Fifteen watches, unblinking. It isn't until some twenty seconds later she cries "Oh, how horrible!" but it seems painfully artificial, as though she's only doing it because she's supposed to.
Devram pushes himself away from the bars nearest the doctor and the ensuing violence. "Holy s!~!! What the hell are you doing?!"
He could feel something, just under his skin, like an air bubble trapped inside him. He was a stranger to such violence and the sight of it horrified him, but something else seemed to thrive on it and awaken. He realized he was panicking, pressed up against the opposite wall of the cell. "Oh gods, what is this place?" He whimpers again.
Renlo watches the keyring fly into another of the cells as the "doctor" flies into a fit of bloody rage. "Dear gods, what are you doing!?" he shouts. He feels himself begin to panic. That doctor is mad. What will they do to me once they've sated their bloodlust in that man? I have to escape! I have to escape now!
Renlo grabs the cell door with one hand, reaching the other through and shouts, fear in his voice, "Let me out of here!"
Suddenly, leaping from his outstretched hand is an arc of lightning, flying directly to the deranged doctor.
Renlo stares at the hand lightning had just flown from, not knowing what just happened.
A yelp escaped Dustfinger's lips as the catfolk struck out at the now clearly bloodthirsty doctor. As the attack landed, the claws cleaved the keys from his belt, launching the ring into the elf's cell.
Seeing this, Dustfingers took advantage of the chaos and grabbed the keys, rushing to unlock his cell door.
"No! I refuse to die underground!" He shrieked, not knowing why.
Aurela gasped at the sight of the enraged doctor slaughtering the screaming patient. She felt near-panicked, and shook her cell door roughly. She wanted to cry out, but a bolt of lightning erupted from another cell... Aurela held her breath, afraid of what might happen next.
At your attack, Renlo, the doctor stops their frenzied stabbing, screaming in pain. They miss below their mask.
"So you want to be next, pretty, and you just can't wait? Well then..."
They move forward a few steps, ominous and full of ill intent, as their free hand reaches to their belt...and then the doctor stops. They look down, looking around for it's keys.
At this point, Dustfingers, you open the cell that contains you and the catfolk. The doctor swings around, noticing you, then looks back at Renlo's outstretched hand. They make a decision, and bolt for the door to the east.
We are going to go back into initiative order to resolve this. From here on out, unless anyone objects, I will roll Initiative when required, as well as roll standard Perception checks for the party (noticing traps, searching for loot, etc). I find that in PbP games this speeds things up considerably, though I may slow the pace and ask you to do specific things to up the drama factor. You can, of course, always take active Perception checks to look for specifics.
- Initiative
- Luccia
- Renlo
- Fifteen
- Dustfingers
- Devram
- Aurela
The doctor is...somewhere in there.
Luccia, the first action is yours. Dustfingers has just opened your cell door. What do you do?
Luccia will spring out of the cell, trying to intercept the fleeing doctor. "Can't let you call for help, now can I?" she whispers coyly as she tries to grab the doctor.
Seeing the elf and catfolk exit their cage, Devram begins violently banging and shaking his own. [larger][larger]"GET ME OUT! OPEN IT NOW!!!"[/larger][/larger] The man isn't large, but the assault on the cage bars is wildly disproportional as he nearly tears the bars apart.