Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » A Cursed Night (Closed)

(OOC thread here.)

On that night, as the trees trembled, the skies bathed the frozen earth with millions of crystals in sheets so thick that it became impossible to see very far ahead, or behind oneself. None but the staunchest beasts allowed themselves to be exposed to the storm, and still many fell to the deathly chill. The clouds choked the atmosphere of light, so that it did not matter even if the snowfall were not so thick; everything lay under that curtain of darkness, one that hadn't abated for the last few nights. Over the howling wind there was little that could be heard besides the snapping of lesser trees and the thunderous crash which followed each time greater ones were uprooted. Such dramatic weather was unheard of, the sort that made the pious repent and the rational wonder if maybe the gods really were angry with them.

So it seemed so unlikely that anyone would be caught in the very midst of such a place, yet there he was.

The young survivalist was not beyond the toll the blizzard took; it hadn't been that long since he started moving through the trees and he'd hoped that it wouldn't be long before he found shelter. But in the dark there was no way to know whether or not he was getting closer to civilization or further from it. Enthlyi tried lighting a lantern but the winds blew out the flame before he could close it, slow clogging its interior beyond hope of future lighting; he hoped to build a shelter but the snow built so quickly that he'd nearly buried himself beneath the frost. So he walked, despite all his knowledge telling him not to, hoping for anything to shelter him from the elements.

Despite all his preparations and equipment it wasn't long before he could no longer feel his face, his fingers or toes. Dread that frostbite was already setting in pushed him onward and caused him to quietly pray all the harder, that is, until he found it.

Virgin snow sloped down into a small, secluded grove in the woods. He knew it was clear because the drop was steep enough to catch him off-guard, sending him tumbling into it. When the desperate ranger looked up he saw something on the other side of the grove; brilliant, warm light pierced the black in the familiar shapes of windows. Music played from within it, though distant and muffled. Enth stood and staggered his first few steps through the snow, finding it to be much more shallow than before. Something was off, but the man was too hopeful to let it stop him. Perhaps it was merely the cabin of someone magically inclined, or of a lonely monk the gods chose to spare?

The man pulled off his snowshoes and trudged closer to the shelter, panting and stumbling over buried roots and rocks but never stopping. A minute later he reached the steps, climbed them and slipped on ice, slamming accidentally into the door. He didn't mind, too afraid of further exposure to the storm to even knock; he opened the door and-- with eyes still adjusting to the warm light-- stepped inside.

But as soon as his snow-caked foot touched the ground the light was gone. The music, though just before ringing so clearly in his ears, fell silent. Enthlyi was left alone with the truth; the shelter was masked with an illusion while the structure itself was dilapidated and, for the most part, destroyed. Nothing but ruined furniture, moth-bitten drapery and scattered, broken tools remained. The man slid slowly to his knees, grabbing the nearest shattered plank to litter the ground and brush his fingers across its dusty surface in disbelief.

Then he dropped it and let a despairing, frustrated cry into the night. He bowed forward and clung to his cloak, forcing himself to stand and explore the place to his best ability. Though it was of little improvement the ranger found that one of the rooms hadn't yet been torn open by the collapsed roof or piling snow. It seemed well supported by pillars, perhaps serving as a sort of office or place of meditation before its abandonment. Upon finding it Enth tested the stability of the pillar, not finding it wanting in the least.

So he took what he had, calming a bit and pushing a fallen door (or what he thought was a fallen door) into the doorway. Then, out of range of it, he pitched his tent. Perhaps the illusion was a simple mistake left by someone on the run; or perhaps he'd inadvertently stepped into a faerie ring and was bound to some form oblivion without realizing it yet. He didn't care; the ranger was too tired and had spent too many days out in the wilderness to care.

'Thank the silent Gods for warming runes,' the lost mercenary mused, trudging through the thick snow that even now was finding it's way into every solitary nook and cranny of her gear. She had begun her journey down from the mountains in skis, and was well into regretting her decision by the time she heard that distant and despondent cry. Poles clutched tightly in her hands (for how else was she to remind herself they were present, in the frost-stiffened gloves), she turned her head in what she assumed was the direction of the sound.

Noise meant life, and life meant possible shelter.

Not wanting to waste anymore time to chance, Jo pushed onward, urging her body forward with as much speed as she could manage. With the wind as loud as it was, whatever had made that sound had to be close by - hopefully she wouldn't run over whatever had made the sound - with how dense the storm was, it seemed unlikely that she'd be able to see the damn thing before she crashed headfirst into it.

The wind did not abate but a second noise split its howling sequence; it was heralded by a flickering, jagged strip of light in the distance. Then it came, rolling over the alpine hills to tell of a distant crash. Thunder.

Enthlyi heard it too, albeit distantly. It was not impossible for such a thing to occur but for such an isolated incident (he hadn't heard thunder for as long as this storm raged until then) it sure was close. And in its wake the air danced with something peculiar, though the man could not quite put a finger on what that was.

Io would find it difficult to run over the man, tucked away where he was in the house. She may find the very same steep drop that he did outside the grove where the enchanted house stood. And unless her goggles or other trinkets showed her the truth that very same image of a warm, welcoming home would appear before her. Even the footprints that Enth had left would be invisible to the naked eye.

Greeted by sharply uttered cry and the muted crunch of a collapsing snow-bank, the drop found her. Jo strained her eyes against the white - everything was so white - and could just make out the warm and inviting glow of a tidy cottage. She had just enough time to note the unexpected sight before collapsing into a tangle of limbs and skis that left her arm somehow trapped beneath the deep snow, while the rest of her pressed - twisted, heavy - over it. She didn't need good hearing to know that she had dislocated her shoulder - her nerves more than made up for that.

Jo struggled to reorient herself, finally finding luck after a long moment scrambling for the clasps of her skis. She had lost her poles somewhere in the heap of snow that had joined her on her decent. Jo had no desire to seek them out. She was cold, and in pain, and sorely in need of snow shoes.

Left unchecked, Jo would steady herself with her good arm outstretched, and awkwardly plod through the dense snow towards the welcoming, well-lit home.

As the ranger was just beginning to warm up he found the nearby cry of surprise both encouraging and displeasing. Enth did not want to be blind again, so he brushed the intruding snow out of his lantern and tried to replace the wick for easier lighting. It took him a moment-- removing his gloves and using shaking hands in the dark was not easy-- but soon enough the familiar orange light reflected on everything close by.

He couldn't help but smile at this small victory and so closed the lantern for use outside once again. He pulled his gloves back on and stepped over rubble, pushing the door to the ground again and stepping over it to investigate the noise outside. That was when he saw her; wading through the snow, eyes set on the same illusion he'd seen moments before. The ranger wondered if his emergence from the charmed house would reveal the truth but either way he wanted to help this newcomer out of the cold; so he walked out.

The illusory light would silhouette his form but where it failed the lantern light prevailed, showing the features of his furs and lower face. He wasn't sure where this person had come from so he called out in a language he thought would be more common in the snowy climes. "Ho there!" he called to her, taking the steps down the porch.

The stranger's voice was a welcome sound. She lifted her head and tried to wipe the frost from her goggles, certain for a moment that the storm was abating. Once her sight was restored to her, all thoughts turned towards the contrary. Jo rose her hand stiffly in greeting, then lowered the appendage to hook two gloved fingers into the ruff of her fleece. She pulled down her neck-warmer and called back to him, "Hail!"

Iocaste could feel what little heat she had trapped within the covering escape her, and spoke more quickly. "Can I come inside?"

The boots she wore were good and thick, but were not made for traveling in the snow. Not far behind her, the travelers skis could barely be seen where she had arrived, jutting like narrow saplings from the white. Much of her face was hidden behind goggles and hood, while the rest was kissed with chill and frowning.

Enthlyi carefully walked down the frost-caked steps to face her on even ground, extending his arm while shouting to be heard, "Yes! But be careful, there's an illusion on this place, it disappears once you walk in!" Or so he believed. It wasn't possible for the ranger to tell if Iocaste could see the golden light he'd seen, but guessing by her hasteful approach he had guessed she did. His mitt-covered hand opened to welcome her own, potentially to help the newcomer up the steps and into the shelter.

His lantern swung with his motion, the flame flickering before regaining its strength near his breast. If she came within arm's reach it would illuminate her well for him, though considering Jo's physique it would avail him little information indeed.

Grateful for the gesture, she stepped into the flickering light and accepted his hand. She uttered a quiet sound of acknowledgement that was cut off quickly in surprise, as her foot cleared the threshold of the shelter and the enchantment dropped away. Jo looked around the dilapidated home quietly, her face-covering concealing much of whatever expression it was she held. "Woah." She murmured, shifting away from the doorway. Iocaste's hand still lingered near that of her host, but her attention was thrown elsewhere. Her head tilted back as she examined the remains of the ceiling and shivered somewhat.

The ranger watched the bug-eyed woman's expression while she crossed the threshold, noting her surprise when the illusion shattered. "It changed all at once, didn't it?" he asked. "Happened to me, too." He was still rather sore about that. Seeing that the engineer was clear of the slippery steps, Enth allowed her to withdraw, doing so himself just to walk a few steps into the ruined cabin and look back. The lantern revealed parts of the front room; the wood on the floor, the encroaching snow, and even hints of a simple chandelier poking out from beneath the white.