ERode

Expedition to Isekai

---

//Night 1 | Location: Nameless Forest - Lakeside
_{@AThousandCurses@baraquiel@Nakushita@Yankee@Vertigo@Cu Chulainn}
It smelled of pine and spring.

Asahi’s eyes opened, one at a time. It had been the deepest, most dreamless sleep he had had in years, and yet he still felt tired at the end of it, as if he hadn’t recovered at all. There was perhaps some clarity in his vision, perhaps his head no longer felt so woozy, but that sensation of lightness, as his body responded a touch too slow for his mind, persisted. He was starving. A couple of fish wouldn’t do it. He had given so much, suffered so much, and in the end?

Well, it had been worth it.

Framed by firelight, Sasuke sat beside him, offering a slight nod, a slight smile, as he chewed upon a skewered fish. Whatever injuries he had suffered from, whatever the effects of the blood-purge caused by Duncan’s ichor, the youth was there beside Asahi now, a starlight brilliance in his dark blue eyes. It was a miracle, a miracle that they had all struggled through to obtain. And it was their blueprint too now, the elixir they could use to bring anyone else back.

Almost as much of a miracle, really, as the fact that the shelter they were now in had walls. Not high enough to rise to the top of the poles, but tall enough to block out the wind and the bugs. Mud had been caked against a frame made of wooden poles, a primitive yet effective solution, and the architect of all this free-standing shelter, Rin, was curled up in a corner of the space, alongside one of the Ito twins, snoring with such a ferocity that Asahi wondered how he even stayed asleep for that long.

If he closed his eyes though, he could almost imagine it. That they were at that camping spot up in the mountains, two years ago. That they were back in Japan, just a one-hour bus ride away from home.

“Oh hey, Duncan,” Maki’s voice sounded out, followed by a light kick that alerted the dozing basketball ace. “Looks like Asahi’s up now.”

Yuki, however, wasn’t.

While his complexion had improved the same way that Sasuke had, he remained unconsciousness, nothing more than a limp body resting upon the leaf-woven blankets that Tsubasa and Masato had made together. Haruko and Daisuke were present too, the former flashing a smile towards Asahi when their eyes met, while the latter was constantly peeking over the top of the wall, as if checking on the situation.

And what the situation was?

Well, even if they weren’t that close, there was no way Ayane would see her step-sister get smashed into the dirt and stay silent over it.

…

Shun hadn’t had much time to rest, not when she had borne the brunt of Ayane’s tirade immediately after breaking a good couple dozen bones in Ayana’s body and sending the girl straight to bed. Why had she done it? Why did she resort to such extreme levels of violence? What the fuck did Ayana even do to deserve this? Was being stressed and then snapping from it all that wrong? It wasn’t like everyone was out to break Kogen’s skull in, no matter how many dirty looks or weird words the chuunibyou spat out on the regular, so why do that to Ayana? Over a rock too!

Hiroshi tried to mediate, of course, but Duncan had peaced out long ago and while he knew a lot about everything, emotional situations like this wasn’t something he understood how to handle. Shun’s left cheek remained unmarred by the terrific slap that Ayane delivered; the fashionista’s own hand was still an angry, throbbing red from the impact. Even when the others rushed over to break up this one-sided fight, they too had questions. The rock that Ayana clutched so desperately even in her unconscious state didn’t look all that special at all, outside of being black, and there wasn’t really any way for them all to understand how this whole chain of events had happened.

What triggered Ayana to start bringing up a chuuni moniker? Why did Shun decide extreme, near-lethal violence was the way to resolve the situation?

They all sat by the fire now, except for a select few who had checked out into the shelter or were still handling menial tasks around the campsite. Enough time had passed, at least, that Ayane herself had managed to hold back her anger enough that she wasn’t going to lash out anymore, but, well, it all depended on it, didn’t it?

What Ayana was like when she stirred.

How she would respond, when she realized the Endless Eclipse was missing from her person.

Firewood crackled.

Her eyes opened.

Iris Ascendis

Ciara gonna channel her inner Batman.

Iris Ascendis

Aighto, pasted.

Nanaya, just to clarify a bit, but after the lights all went off, Otis cast a silencing spell around the outside of Gulliver's barrier. 1, to fuck with him, and 2, so he could walk/run up to the barrier while everything was dark without being heard, and thus be able to do his 'door manifesting inside the barrier' trick.

Est, Otis would probably let Ciara mentally know of his own plan around the time the lights turn off. The whole 'get Davil to pop up inside Gulliver's barrier' thing.

Iris Ascendis

_{@Nanaya@Estylwen@AThousandCurses@Sifr@Psyker Landshark}

They were both real?

An Ethos to summon doppelgangers? Or actual twins? The Foreteller’s clock was spinning faster, but not fast enough to prevent the paladin from smashing it open and ripping out Gulliver’s lookalike from the machine’s heart. Otis only felt a little bit of sadness as he saw the giant crumple and kneel; at this rate, he’d never find out what the point of the big, stupid machine was. Made sense that its pilot was literally an unconscious clone of an arrogant manchild though. It had all the stats to compare to a Sword-class Gearvein, but none of the finesse that made such machines a threat.

What did impress, however, was the paladin herself. Despite his bluster subtracting from his feats, it was clear to Otis that Gulliver himself was still an impressive mage, the sheer magnitude of thunderous power that was summoned from his slight frame enough to cause his own hair to stand up at its ends. Static energy convulsed, before a lethal spell cascaded upon the paladin, possessing such force, such awful might, that Otis was fundamentally certain Gulliver was going to be blind and the paladin would be both deaf and blind, if not flat out dead.

And yet, she remained.

Mustered up the will to stand. To stagger forth, threatening violence even then.

His trigger finger twitched. It was getting very dark now, and the frenetic movements of the Mannekins had only intensified as their numbers fell, as if the resources they drew from increased as there were less doing the drawing. Gulliver was a powerful fool, a narcissist. But the paladin? She was a powerful fool compelled by self-righteousness, capable of withstanding a spell like that head-on and not admitting defeat. Of the two, she would be the greater threat in the long-run.

All it would take was a quick shot. An accident while trying to hit the Mannekins. A bullet through the heart or the spine, a chest wound that could very likely have targeted a puppet instead of a human. He can act all distraught about it afterwards, or could play dumb, even. There were methods of getting around interrogation magic, and all his actions had thus far colored him as a cold, but ultimately good-hearted individual. Davil and Ciara could attest to his willingness to cooperate and save others.

It would just be a tragic mistake.

The last vestiges of lightning faded. A bullet was chambered. Iron sights centered.

Hidden in shadow, Otis took aim at center mass and fired. A flash of gunpowder, a crack of a gunshot. And though his aim wasn’t blessed with supernatural accuracy, his target was sizable.

Something too fast to be seen whistled towards, then past, Iraleth, slicing a few strands of charred hair off her head. Behind, a bullet struck, then crumpled, against the last window, and from it spawned the writhing substance of black…paint. Ink, born and drawn from arcane compulsion, raced upwards like the rising tide, covering the entirety of the final window.

And the stage plunged into darkness.

…

Something, perhaps, was growing. Was it the shadow-witch, her powers reaching its summit within this world where the only speck of light that was present had to be Bronsteel’s barrier of essence?

Nay, the unknown was the unknown. It was uncertain what it was that would even happen, in truth. And without knowledge, the mind wandered, spiralling outwards at greater speeds, emotions heightening, pulse racing, the peak of panic digging deep into a fear that persisted within the most primitive reaches of humanity’s mind, even though religion told them that they ought to embrace the comforts of the shade.

In pitch darkness, Gulliver found himself levitating in nothing more than the void.

He found himself unable to hear anything outside of that thin, thin bubble of his, as if the entire world had been lost to him. He couldn’t see anything but the sparks that flew off from erratic conflicts, couldn’t see the fate of his machine, his other self. Couldn’t give form to the monstrosity that lurked, that Umbralist she-devil who had conned the students into granting her the blessing of a moonless night.

He couldn’t hear, either, an invocation of an Ethos.

A door was both entrance and exit.

And under the cover of darkness, Otis had finally closed enough distance in order to summon the gateway to his Workshop inside the bounds of Gulliver’s barrier.

Now, only one question remained, and it wasn’t a question that he really wanted to answer for himself.

Would Davil push? Or would he pull?

Iris Ascendis

@Sifr Do you want Hildegunde to have the honors of working out how to shutter the last window while getting dogged by a Mannekin? If so, I can wait for your post first; would otherwise do it myself, because Otis is a free agent, a loose cannon, a maniac unfettered.

Children of the Otherwold (An isekai rp with a twist!)

Right, when are you making the OOC?

Iris Ascendis

Would be pretty funny if Iraelth more or less solos the encounter while both Ciara and Otis are still setting up their individual schemes.

Children of the Otherwold (An isekai rp with a twist!)

I mean, it's right there.

One day, Morganna took notice of how certain people in our world were having their lives cut tragically short. Feeling pity, she decided to reincarnate these people in her domain, giving them new bodies so they may continue their lives anew. When these "Children of the Otherworld" were discovered to have great potential for magic, creation, and destruction Drasil took notice and sought out Otherworlders of his own to challenge his sister's creations.

One did it out of pity, the other did it because his sister did.

Children of the Otherwold (An isekai rp with a twist!)

In sandboxes, it’s generally important for players themselves to have individual goals, yeah. Equally important would be for the GM to then be flexible enough to provide challenges towards achieving those goals, or things would just be very solo-adventurey real quick.

Children of the Otherwold (An isekai rp with a twist!)

Interesting to have answered that in PMs, but thanks for sharing, Xalt.

Now my question: do all PCs come from the same era? Are we all modern-day humans? Are we all humans from the same world?