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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 23, 2016 11:18:10 GMT -5
She sees some downed cypress branches that would work well, if she has enough fabric to being them into a raft. The lake is placid and the water is muddy, making identifying any threats or the water's depth impossible. When she crosses the lake she will have a twenty foot bank to negotiate as well, unless she wishes to pass by more huts. Movement at night is the only real possibility.
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The Jungle
Sept 23, 2016 11:25:47 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by Rowan on Sept 23, 2016 11:25:47 GMT -5
Rowan looks dismayed since theyve only just got it back. They unsling it give it a fond pat and place it at their feet. Holding their hands away from their body. Shifting their shoulders some as the wyven is getting them a bit stiff where it lays. Rowan gives an innocent look and says 'da any of ye understand meh words?'
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 23, 2016 11:28:29 GMT -5
A. Man picks the axe up and they chatter, then seem to make a decision and point Rowan down the path. They don't bind them but they do form a sort of circle to march along.
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The Jungle
Sept 23, 2016 11:32:34 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by Rowan on Sept 23, 2016 11:32:34 GMT -5
Rowan looks relived they are not immediately killed and take the instructions calmly. Shifting the carcass a bit every so often. They wander what will happen later but figure as long as they keep breathing the rest can be dealt with when needed.
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 23, 2016 11:34:15 GMT -5
She sees some downed cypress branches that would work well, if she has enough fabric to being them into a raft. The lake is placid and the water is muddy, making identifying any threats or the water's depth impossible. When she crosses the lake she will have a twenty foot bank to negotiate as well, unless she wishes to pass by more huts. Movement at night is the only real possibility. Abigail looks down at the rope she had and makes some calculations before getting to work. She cuts down as many cypress branches as she needs before using the rope to tie as much of her raft together. Should she run out of rope she will start taking strips from her dress to tie the whole thing together, before waiting until night time. She also tries to fashion some sort of paddle.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 23, 2016 11:37:57 GMT -5
For a long time they walk, until they come to a cluster of small cottages. The hunting party scatters and two of them lead Rowan to a central one, where a tall man with a leopard headdress awaits. The hunters jabber a second before being silenced, and the shaman looks to Rowan. "Where from?" He asks gruffly.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 23, 2016 11:42:14 GMT -5
She sees some downed cypress branches that would work well, if she has enough fabric to being them into a raft. The lake is placid and the water is muddy, making identifying any threats or the water's depth impossible. When she crosses the lake she will have a twenty foot bank to negotiate as well, unless she wishes to pass by more huts. Movement at night is the only real possibility. Abigail looks down at the rope she had and makes some calculations before getting to work. She cuts down as many cypress branches as she needs before using the rope to tie as much of her raft together. Should she run out of rope she will start taking strips from her dress to tie the whole thing together, before waiting until night time. She also tries to fashion some sort of paddle. By the time she is finished she has more of a shift than a dress, but the raft looks like it may be somewhat seaworthy, not that she'd have much clue if it didn't. She finds a wide branch to serve as a crude paddle and sets out. The slender moon provides a bit of light to navigate by, and she makes it about a third of the way across before she hears a bubbling sound coming from her left. Something that looks vaguely in the dark like a swimming tree trunk appears to be heading her way. She paddles faster and faster but it gets closer and slowly closer. About two hundred meters from the other shore it catches up and a giant maw opens, snapping the raft and biting two chunks of the cypress off. She will have to either fight the beast or swim and hope she can make it to shore before she is turned into a dinner.
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The Jungle
Sept 23, 2016 11:50:16 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by Rowan on Sept 23, 2016 11:50:16 GMT -5
For a long time they walk, until they come to a cluster of small cottages. The hunting party scatters and two of them lead Rowan to a central one, where a tall man with a leopard headdress awaits. The hunters jabber a second before being silenced, and the shaman looks to Rowan. "Where from?" He asks gruffly. Rowan grins at hearing his tongue. 'Coldsteel Creek.. ah was sold by my own people. The ship was wrecked ah swam ashore and made meh way through the jungle looking for people..'Rowan sighs 'ah still cant belive the fooking bastards sold meh..'
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 23, 2016 11:50:48 GMT -5
The moment she spotted the weird log she knew she was in trouble. No way was this not some sort of a strange creature. Abigail paddled harder and harder but the thing caught up her and with one huge chomp bit her raft almost in half.
"No!" She cried out, her mind racing. Fight or flight, fight or flight?! She grabbed her bag of food and scattered it on the raft, near where the beasts mouth was, before jumping into the water on the other side and beginning to swim. She was hoping that the monster wouldn't notice one part of the raft (her) detaching and would focus on chomping the wood and eating the food.
Stamina: 62 Swimming: 50
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 23, 2016 12:15:48 GMT -5
The shaman understands little of that. "Slave." He said. "This I know. Many slaves now." He shakes his head. "Many from other place." He looks them over. "Where you go?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 23, 2016 12:16:51 GMT -5
+1 Swimming
Abigail loses all her food, but the crocodile spends enough time eating it that she is able to make it to shore. Now she is facing a steep bank that would be tough to climb in daylight if she felt healthy. She feels neither at the moment.
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Post by Amelia Royce on Sept 23, 2016 12:20:20 GMT -5
Abigail looks out onto the lake to see if she is being followed by any beasts or man before inspecting the bank. She tries to make out the easiest route up or some sort of shelter for the night. A cave maybe.
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The Jungle
Sept 23, 2016 12:20:28 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by Rowan on Sept 23, 2016 12:20:28 GMT -5
Rowan frowns 'yunkai? Yun.. summit.. was told it no snow there.. i want to be free to make meh own choices and lay with who ah want.. not displayed and raped all teh time cus ah is diffrent.'
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 23, 2016 12:21:33 GMT -5
Abigail sees no shelter of any sort. If she sleeps here it is among the stars and crocodiles. The only way to avoid the cliffs is to try sneaking through the hamlet to her north. South is more crocodile.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 23, 2016 12:22:26 GMT -5
Rowan frowns 'yunkai? Yun.. summit.. was told it no snow there.. i want to be free to make meh own choices and lay with who ah want.. not displayed and raped all teh time cus ah is diffrent.' The shaman blinks without understanding most words. "You must go," he decided. "Go to Xintilan. There is west talk. Much west talk." He nods again, more certain. "Xintilan."
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