SURVIVE 4 — Land of Savages • [DAY 3 | Early Night | In the Squall]

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Author Topic: SURVIVE 4 — Land of Savages • [DAY 3 | Early Night | In the Squall]  (Read 29704 times)

Theric grunts as can't make sense of the important parts of what they're saying. His expression droops into that of a mixture of anxiety and frustration. He's looking over his shoulder, and then he's beginning to head along to that path.

Now Theric is asking aggressively- that's not to say he's being aggressive with the way he asks, but he is definitely asking much more earnestly and trying out several different tactics with the way he asks to see if he can get to the question that's on his mind: Who's loving cloak is this? He tries the tactic of acting concerned for their safety, he says that he thinks they left something of theirs behind, etc. General things that make it seem like a good idea to lead him to the owner. If he gets an answer along the way, good.

If not, he'll just continue over to the path pointed out to him by the guards.

This place is starting to get annoying.

Väinö, noticing the familiar looking aggregate shaped berries, quickly plucks them off the bush, and eats them without hesitation. He gathers the rest of the berries just in case, and stuffs them in his pocket.

With the fog coming to an end, he decides to go more up to land, hoping that he can get lucky and hopefully find someone that can help him.

Aif finds a canid tooth on the ground nearby a leather belt which had been chewed thoroughly and subsequently weathered. It hardly has the integrity to hold it's own weight. The sheath, also chewed, might hold it, but there is no telling how long it would last.

The forest is as one would expect a forest to be, filled with the sounds of chirping and warbling, the wind gently passing through the pines, some squirrels chittering and fighting over nuts from pine cones. Neither a predator nor a hunter of man seem to be nearby.



Theric receives mixed reactions from various townspeople, but most of them either do not talk or simply respond with "I cannot tell you." Eventually, as Theric nears his wits' end, an gaunt old man calls him from an alleyway.



Yana carefully fillets the fish and picks out it's many cartilaginous bones, leaving it within it's scaly skins while she goes back to the river to wash her hands and wash off three flat rocks. She takes the stones back to the clearing and sets them aside, placing the fish on them before starting a fire and setting another one of the clean stones on top once it had become healthy, supporting it with rounder stones.

The final one she leaves for cooked fish and eating.

She would wait for the newly-made stone stove to heat before placing the fillets on it.




Väinö eats several of the endani berries and picks several of the other kinds of berries before moving on. The endani berries are sweet but with a tart, even sour aftertaste. However, he doesn't make it far into the forest before he starts feeling strange. His vision begins to warp, his head reeling and his stomach quickly rejecting what had just been put in it. He vomits up all that was in his stomach, and continues to dry-heave and cough even when nothing is left. He cannot stop the sensation. His body wants to reject something that is not there. After about half an hour, his head would still be reeling, his pulse pounds in his head, and despite it being mid-day, is shivering.
« Last Edit: January 01, 2018, 08:43:52 PM by SWAT One »

Theric is on the verge of losing his stuff until he pauses, looking over at the old man in the alley. There's a glance, back and forth to make sure he's indeed talking to him before he goes into the alley- somewhat wary and at the ready. He asks the man whose cloak this is, and why everyone's so tight lipped about it.

The man is lean and haggard. His face is covered with sores, and he wears tattered clothes. The man says to Theric, "[unknown] man, it is [unknown] to [unknown] about a cloak, [unknown] given [unknown]."

Aif leaves the belt and sheath behind, but becomes increasingly paranoid as he travels, guessing that a wolf or wild dog or pack thereof killed the previous bearer of his sword, but realizing that such anxiety is fruitless, takes a minute to collect himself and rest for about an hour before continuing on his way.  Occasionally, he pauses, listening for the sound of running water, knowing that without a better source of drinking water than the morning dew, he won't be able to survive for very long.

The man is lean and haggard. His face is covered with sores, and he wears tattered clothes. The man says to Theric, "[unknown] man, it is [unknown] to [unknown] about a cloak, [unknown] given [unknown]."

Theric stares at him for a moment or two, before he makes it clear that he doesn't quite understand. But he thinks he has a gist of part of it, and he repeats it as best as he can for confirmation: It's rude to ask about a cloak. Or at least, that's the impression he's getting. However, he still fails to understand the significance.

Theric also decides that it's about time he properly learns this language as well. And despite this guy being the most receptive- he also looks sickly. For now, he offers him some of his Taralki berries as a way of thanks.

Once his questions are answered, and assuming the man doesn't have anything else for him, he decides he'll just go to that one path the guards pointed out to overlook the area.

Aif Isn't able to make out any sounds of running water. He feels his stomachache passing. A doe with her fauns browsing in the forest. The doe sees Aif and freezes in place, but after a minute, goes back to browsing nearby.



The man which Theric had been speaking to shakes his head and speaks in simpler words in hopes that Theric would understand. "Cloak." He makes a motion that Theric can only assume means an amalgamation or group, "Party, the Tervetuloa Kevään?" he asks for confirmation, nodding, then makes a sipping motion and half-dances like a drunkard. He focuses back at Theric, pointing at the cloak and the motion of removing it, before imitating loveual motions briefly, interrupting abruptly to press his index finger to his lips and making a "Shhhh" sound with wide eyes. Finally, he uses his index and middle finger to display that one walks away, the sun runs its course in the sky, and then the person returns. "Is bad luck to tell the man who [unknown] the cloak the one who left it." He takes a breath and lets out a heavy sigh. "I am [unknown]. Is not all bad for me to say. It is not good for you to say [unknown]. May make her angry, [unknown]."

The man thanks him for his offer but rejects the berries. "Is not good to eat."

Theric leaves the man and arrives at the ridge. A good lot of the ton can be seen from here. Farm workers are distributing out bread for their lunch before resuming field work. Several khaliyuna are kept within a pen.

Theric rubs the back of his neck, seeming to understand what the man's saying. He offers him a gracious nod and thanks, before he opts to simply put the cloak on.

He tilts his head at the man denying his food, but he nods all the same and moves along.

When Theric's upon the ridge, he raises his hand as a visor as he looks out over the area. He gets a view of the settlement- and spots those big birds again. His brows furrow, and he begins to stomp off in the direction of the pens. What the hell is with the size of their chickens?

Famulus Douzheng




Culture of Origin: Unknown, but eastern
Relevant language(s):  Romano-Hellenic
love: Male
Age: 24
Physical Description: 5'9. Not skinny, but certainly not stocky. Scars from caning and whipping are prominent on his back and posterior.
Trade: Laborer
Other Info: Natively knows Sino-Tibetan. Roughly understands Proto-Armenian.

A man with a drawn out past. Despite knowing Romano-Hellenic well, he's nevertheless cursed with a thick accent from his mother tongue.
« Last Edit: January 02, 2018, 09:03:13 PM by Juncoph »

Väinö is not pleased at all. He frantically worries about whats going on, but draws the sickness going on to the berries. He cups his hands and yells, hopefully to get someones attention.

He decides to take out one of the round, red berries and munch on it, hopefully to get some nutrition without getting sick.

Still being dazed by the dark blue berries, he decides to check his surroundings before continuing.

Famulus Douzheng
Accepted.




The large birds look at Theric, seeing that he is not someone they have seen before. They squawk apprehensively, either lifting a leg or scraping it lightly in the dirt. A stablehand leads one toward the pen, with a leather harness around its head and woven leather lashing instead of ropes to lead it. He sees Theric and calls out to him, "What, you [unknown] you have never seen a khaliyuna [unknown]."



Väinö swallows the berry and nothing bad inherently happens with it, but even this, his stomach rejects. What the hell are these blue berries?! he thinks. The shivers are getting worse. There seems to be no response to his scream, save for the birds and tree squirrels which scatter at being startled by the scream. He feels the energy draining out of him, and he's sure any strength he can muster from his voice will be reduced to a mere whimper before too long.



Aif, in observing the doe and her fauns, the squirrels and birds in all the tranquility around him, notices that the forest becomes hushed for a moment. The doe gazes southward with ears perked up for the greater part of a minute before slowly resuming her browsing.



Yana watches her surroundings to ensure no predators envy her meal from the distance, being always prepared to run would she encounter one. With each fillet sufficiently cooked on her makeshift stone griddle, carefully slides it off onto her eating stone, where she would eat them once they would cool off, occasionally picking the small, needle-like bones out, inspecting some to ascertain whether they would make good sewing needles. She stuffs the finest few into her cheaply-made rucksack and goes back down to the river to wash her hands, and additionally look for any clays that she can fashion into pottery.

Douzheng begins to stir. The familiar feeling of wearing clothes drenched in seawater gradually gains his attention, alongside the methodical swooshing of waves spreading up and down a shoreline. He comes to, and sits up, taking in his surroundings. A sharp headache mars the clarity of his thoughts, and the sting of salted eyes is immediately noticeable. Lacking anything to clear them with, he simply hopes that he tears up enough to dispel the irritation. He takes note of his immediate surroundings- sand, stones, driftwood, the sea, a thick treeline, remnants of the ship that he was on, and-

"Uurgh..."

Douzheng's attention snaps toward the moan. It is a woman- the spouse of the man that owns Douzheng.

"F-Famulus... Where is Atticus?", she weakly inquires.

Douzheng responds simply: "I don't know."

She looks at Douzheng, and he can see everything her eyes have to tell. One of them is dilated, the other is not. She is deeply afraid of the situation, and is unable to even attempt to hide it. Lying prone, she supports her upper torso with her arms bent 90 degrees, both forearms laying flat and parallel to eachother. "Help me s-sstand," she utters. Douzheng himself is in poor condition to stand, but nevertheless stumbles his way to her. He begins to help her up by her arms, when she shrieks out in pain and escapes his grip. Falling on her side, it becomes apparent why she screamed- her whole midsection looks brutalized, presumably by being ground against debris during the ship's collapse. One of the lacerations is so severe that a portion of intestine is herniating through, ever so slightly. The sand where she was lying is drenched in her blood. It becomes evident that she hadn't yet moved since she'd woken up, as there was no blood elsewhere on the shore, besides a scuff of Douzheng's left by a minor cut on his arm.

As she writhes around, she repeats her request: "Help... m-m-me... stand!" - but Douzheng simply watches. She notices the bulging gut, and simply starts forcing it back inside... with her sand-laden hands. It becomes apparent to Douzheng that she is delirious, and not only from bloodloss, as her right ear is also bleeding ever so modestly. Both severely concussed and mortally wounded, she repeats her question again. "Help me stand," she says. Douzheng hangs his head slightly, realizing the severity of her condition. He leaves her, powerless to help (and a bit uninterested in doing so anyway). As she continues her less and less coherent ramblings, Douzheng seeks out what little he can salvage from the wreckage.

He finds little, but does come across a sealed pot of wine, which miraculously wasn't shattered or contaminated. It's a simple, modest vessel- almost like a jar, rather than a proper amphora. He also finds a worn section of rope, unfit for its original purpose but still capable of mild utility. Eventually, he also finds a wood chisel, though its handle has become loose. A rotten bundle of grapes makes itself apparent- no other food survived at all. He collects the grapes, despite their status.

He brings everything he collected back to the site where he woke up. The woman is now unconscious, with blood smeared on her hands and abdomen. Douzheng collects her stola, her palla, and her fascia. He dries everything to the best of his ability, and takes off his tunic, doing the same to it, shortly before suspending it with a log and a branch of driftwood, so that air may do the rest. In the meantime, he wears the woman's stola and wraps the palla around his abdomen, almost like a belt. Because of it wrapping around more than once, it provides him with the ability to carry things by simply jamming them in between the layers. He immediately does so with the rope coil. He folds the fascia into a very small and simplistic pouch, which he then deposits the seeds of the spoiled grapes into. The pouch joins the rope in the palla-belt. Incidentally, the palla also covers up the huge gaps in the stola, which proves rather fortunate.

Sitting on a piece of driftwood, he stops and realizes how emotionless and methodical he'd just been for the last ten or so minutes. While being shipwrecked should be alarming, he simply doesn't have it in him to feel anxious. For at least 14 years, he'd been a slave - and, strange as it is, being marooned has liberated him.

Douzheng looks around him. To the west is a coastline of progressively thinning forest, perhaps leading to a grassland. To the north is the forest itself. To the south is the ocean which brought him here. And to the east is coastline which leads ENE before turning down into a peninsula with rockier beaches and– Douzheng stares for the better part of half a minute to decide what he sees. Another boat? . . .    Two boats?



Yana takes the stone which had carried the raw fish and ashes it off in the stream and gathers mud from the banks, carrying it back to the clearing she had found and where she had cooked the fish. The begins to make a simple hut, electing to make an elliptical dried mud foundation, before she would gather branches and logs to form the hut. Hopefully she will not need to stay here long.

Knowing that there is not much time in the day, she gets right to work, taking care not to rush lest she injure herself.

After a few minutes of careful consideration, Douzheng decides to investigate the boat(s) he's spotted down the coastline, as he's in no shape to brave the looming dusk with nothing more than some wine for rations. He takes off the stola and palla-belt, puts his tunic back on, re-equips the palla-belt, and drapes the stola over himself as a shabby coat. Then he covers the woman's body to the best of his ability using driftwood logs and branches. Douzheng then begins to make his way toward the boat(s). A long trek on foot to find aid is a lesser struggle than seeking food under increasingly dire conditions, he thinks. He takes a modest swig of the wine jug, and stuffs it into his palla-belt, securing it more tightly using the rope.
« Last Edit: January 03, 2018, 06:29:53 PM by Juncoph »