the_last_resort | The Witches Huts

Entry tags:

The Witches Huts

Who: Various
What: Swamp Hunting
When: M11 D27 - M11 D29 (Feb 17 - Feb 25) IMPORTANT NOTE days have been changed to make the plot more accommodating.
Where: Three different swamps far from the Village
Notes & Warnings: See the plot post for further details. You are allowed to go to more than one swamp. There's plenty of time, to. Plotting Links: The Marsh of Sorrow | The Offending Swamp | The Witch's Den. Participation is encouraged so that we can make later plots around expanded world access, or so that characters can use potions or cauldrons they didn't turn in themselves. The Slip 'n' Slide log is still open for tagging.

The Marsh of Sorrow: Foggy and murkey, sparse trees jut out of the bog like gnarled fingers reaching to an unseen sky. There's a light mist in the air- raining again in some form or fashion as every explorer who has returned has reported. Not all have returned, though, and caution is very much encouraged. There are more wild hounds than one would expect for somewhere that apparently doesn't have free grazing livestock. They seem to be waiting around for something.

It becomes obvious when a sheep becomes mired in the mud near the border. Easy prey. Luckily the hounds have never shown any interest in people.

The good sign is that that there are few skeletons and creepers. While one might assume that they're hidden by the fog, they're generally extremely sparse. Off in the distant fog there are lit spots, areas where old huts are, glowing mysteriously. Those are the places that the museum wants to be investigated. It just requires wading through the muck to reach them.

What the museum doesn't know is when the marsh is active, emotions play a role in whether someone can make it across. Unfortunately it's the only time that the huts can be located through the fog. People that are entering the swamp with grim feelings in mind will find themselves sinking. Perseverence, ambition, joy, curiosity? Those will help people strive through, and hopefully pull others to the surface.
The Offending Swamp: The museum doesn't tell people why it provides them with face masks, but oh, they will know when they hit the border of the swamp. It's a terrible smell, not quite like being near a sewer but not far off. That unfortunate paper-mill smell. The mask given to them will allow people to speak freely and unmuffled, but it only blocks out about 90% of the stench. This is one of the situations where someone might hope that the rewards are worth it.

The ground is far more solid than in the Marsh of Sorrow, with plenty of firm areas to roam. It makes the stench more irritatingly mysterious. There are few animals, too. But the answer to that becomes obvious when bursts of flame pop out of small holes in the ground. Apparently getting through will require great care.

The museum did not provide fireproofed clothes. But when the hut is found, luckily alongside its cauldron will be an abundence of fireproofing potions. Their purpose isn't obvious so it would depend on the curious or the adventurous to figure it out. That will at least make getting back out easier.
The Witch's Den: When entered, this swamp seems the more relaxing one. The temperature is moderate, the air isn't deplorably foul, the boggy areas are not as difficult to navigate. Once someone is within its limits, making their way to the hut, the more unsettling aspects of the swamp make themselves known.

Voices of people lost or left behind speak to people over their shoulders, soft and sometimes pleading, or accusing. They mutter secrets, things about their past, fears that people don't say aloud. Sometimes they're just whispers, and sometimes they're loud enough for the next person over to hear. Often they will tell people to go a certain way, toward another object or in another direction.

If they follow, it will put them back at the edge of the swamp.

There is a single hut in this one, far towards the center. As with the ones in the Marsh of Sorrow, it will glow as the swamp's abilities are active. It lies past the remnants of dilapidated houses and landmarks, a village likely abandoned long before any of the other ruins were formed. It is best found as the sky grows dark. Unlike the Marsh of Sorrow, though, enemies will crawl out of the dark.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Maybe it's like a one way highway with lots of on ramps or off ramps. I guess there are a lot of comparisons. But I guess this could be the main path that goes one way, and happens to run into 'em all."

He was doing his best to make sense of it, contemplating all the little different universes and how, if touched by this one, maybe it just forced that tree to happen. He couldn't say quite yet.

"You got a main theory about how it works in your universe?" He asked as if it were the most casual conversation to make with someone. For him, it was his favorite form of interesting small talk.

"There are as many theories as there are chrononauts," said Una. Generally she was quite cagey about her regular line of work; in most cases, to be too talkative was dangerous. But in this strange temporal zone, with its combination of unbreakable linearity and wide-ranging lateral access and the general acceptance of these normally esoteric facts, she felt she could speak more freely than usual.

"Some compare the Multiverse to a vast lake, into which each action is like a stone thrown into water, except in four or five dimensions. Others treat it as a kind of field, in which all of Time and Space exists simultaneously. Some accept the 'branch' theory, but deny the existence of any kind of centre. Regardless of the metaphor one prefers, however, certain constants remain—the dangers involved in passing between temporal zones, the inevitability of echoes across parallels, the importance of being able to camouflage oneself in an unfamiliar zone."

"How many temporal zones have you passed- and do you start out as a chrononaut or were you a traditional sort of human once?" And now Kay had started with the inevitable questions. It was an easy pattern to fall into, comfortable in pursuing one line of curiosity even while wearing a mask and trudging through a godawful swamp.

"How many? I've lost count. Truly." How many years would it be, she sometimes wondered, if she were to add up all her experiences across Time? It almost didn't bear thinking about—and it was a mercy, really, that she couldn't remember all of it.

"At any rate, before all that started—I was ordinary enough." At least, she thought she was. The memories were forever hazy, with occasional flashes of clarity that she had come to distrust. "Those of us in my region of the Multiverse with this kind of talent usually discover that we have it the hard way, by getting displaced in Time. If this happens, it helps to have someone more experienced to stabilise you and help you learn to exert some will over the process. I met such a person a long time ago, and I've endeavoured to do the same for others. I expect that's why Jeffers wanted to hire me."

Kay could remember having been ordinary enough quite clearly- and still lived his life under the guise of being ordinary enough. He was nothing like as exceptional as a chrononaut, though, and the leap from one state to the other must have been jarring.

"I'd have felt very lost if that happened to me.... Well... I actually probably would have adapted pretty quick. I think I felt pretty lost back before I became an Agent. Knowing how big the universe was, it made it worth not being a part of the world anymore."

Which was about as forthcoming as he allowed himself to be about feelings, considering he was talking to another member of some secret society. One that also shaped the universe. Maybe someone else who would sort of get it.

She stopped in her tracks, and if Kay looked back, he'd see that she was smiling. Insofar as you could tell through the breathing mask, at any rate.

"Not many people understand that," she said. "The price, I mean—and why it's worth it."

Through the lens of his mask, his eyes crinkled up- the only real sign that he was smiling too.

"I guess some ordinary people don't really care whether they are ordinary or not, but want to think of the universe as somethin' special." That was what his case was, anyway. It never insulted him to get lost in it; he was a part of something beautiful and big. "Even when sometimes all that specialness makes it smell like horse shit." Thank you, swamp.

And he noted then that little snowman had wandered right off towards the outline of a dilapidated building. It traced its way up the stairs and looked around in confusion on a porch of a thing, its little distant figure looking about as confused as an animated snowman could.

Una chuckled. "And some of us imagined and wished that we might be something other than ordinary, and the universe obliged. In spades. But I don't regret it."

She then saw too that the snowman had stopped. "Well, that's the most interesting thing I've seen today," she said, frowning slightly at the structure. "I suppose we ought to investigate, shouldn't we?"

She checked her gun in its holster but didn't draw it yet.

He pulled his own blaster almost lazily, passing another glance at their surroundings before edging off in that direction. "I guess we don't want to tell them we let Frosty do the work for us."

The camera drone that had been following at a distance did move far ahead, though, watching the bizarre sight of the snowman filling the hut floor with snow as it doodled around in confusion.

"It may be the most ridiculous thing I've done when confronted with a minefield," she said wryly.

As they approached the hut, she did draw her gun, alert for any signs of danger or movement. But the only motion was the camera drone above and the snowman within the hut. She peered inside. The snowman was still wandering about, and in its perambulations it bumped up against a black iron cauldron near the empty hearth, smearing it with snow. Just visible on the shelves behind was a dull gleam of glass bottles, obscured by dust and cobwebs.

"So what do you suppose this is?"

Kay glanced over his shoulder at the meandering thing as it nudged against him, and then wandered out onto the porch again. He picked up a bottle with some unidentifiable liquid in it; just a splash, but some. He started to wrap the ones that still had something in them when he noted what Una was examining.

"Like a hell broth boil and bubble, huh?" he said mildly, and nudged it with his shoe as if to check if it was trapped.

"Solid. Heavy. Definitely the real deal. Too bad we don't have anyone magically sensitive around." He had a scanner but it wouldn't work for more than that.

She bent down and tried to lift the cauldron. It budged, and she could probably move it a short distance—but not through a swamp. Someone else would have to deal with that.

"Magic's not my expertise either," she said. "I suppose we ought to take those back to the town for analysis." She nodded at the bottles he held. "Perhaps a better-equipped party can bring back this thing."

"Hauling that thing out is definitely more work than the two of us could pull off."

The snowman out on the porch suddenly directed his attention to one corner, and once he was pinned up against the old fence as hard as he can go he started chucking snowballs. Actually snowballs, that he pulled from that endless perplexing supply he formed from himself? (Herself? How does one gender a barely animate snowperson?)

Kay left the bottles for the moment, wandering out and then noting that it was starting to get later in the day, And the snowman was focusing all of his attention on attacking a creeper. Admittedly all he was doing was impeding its progress and agitating it into hissing with each wet thump, but it was pretty intent on warding off the thing.

Kay pulled his blaster but all he needed was one shot- a blast of fire took care of the rest and left a decent sized hole in the ground.

"Well that's not good news. It's startin' to get dark." And that meant either they had to rush with what they had to a teleport point, or hold up in the shack for the night.

"Damn." She looked back the way they'd come. She'd tried to leave some waymarkers on the path, but who knew if the fireholes were consistent in where they popped up? "Honestly, I don't fancy staying the night out here," not that she hadn't put up with worse before, "but we'll have to hurry to get back in time. Which could be a toasty experience if we're not careful." A sigh. "I suppose it's too much to hope that there's something magical here that could protect against fire." It felt absurd to say, but then—if someone had set up house in the middle of a flaming swamp, surely they would have taken some kind of precaution?

Kay mumbled something that was more a train of quick thought in some alien language that it was anything intended to be heard. He picked up one of the bottles and looked at the front of it, pulled out his communicator, and browsed for languages.

"They've done some deciphering. We should be able to read some of these. If they've got something in one of these bottles I wouldn't be surprised."

There was a movement not far away that Una caught out of the corner of her eye; she wheeled around, gun up just in time to take out another creeper.

"Well, I hope we find out soon," she said conversationally.

"You willing to try drinking something that might have been sitting around for a couple of centuries?" He asked, glancing in Una's direction. Because, so far, it looked like that was their best bet.

And the question was a genuine one. "Scanner still says its drinkable but it doesn't mean it'll still work and/or won't taste like ass."

She raised an eyebrow and considered, then sighed.

"Well. It may not be the very worst thing I've ever put in my mouth. I'm game if you are."

"Here goes nothin'." He drank a heavy swallow of what he was holding, made a face because it tasted overburnt, and then handed the bottle to Una. Maybe overburnt was the point. He took out his lighter, flicked his finger through it once. Twice. Then settled it over the flame.

Good enough for him.

"Let's go."

And off the porch he went, carrying what he had managed to grab that could be useful, rushing. He guessed they'd have a chance to see if it could stand up against the stronger flame soon.

Una took a deep breath and drank her share of the potion as quickly as she could, wincing a little. She also grabbed as much as she could carry (while still having access to her gun) and hurried off after Kay.

She almost put her foot squarely in the fire hole that flared up a little further down the path and she leaped back instinctively. But where she should have been at least singed—nothing.

"I think it works!"

"Then lets not waste any time." At this rate he was going to have to switch out uniforms because he didn't think he'd ever get the stench out of his clothes.

He did hazard a glance back at that puttering little snowman as he started to jog. Poor little guy. Here was hoping he kept out of trouble.

OOC: Think that's a good note to end on?

OOC: And scene. :)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Witches Huts

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject