TDM #2 - Down in the Underground

[pumpkinhollow]

Pumpkin Hollow Gazette Issue #3

Pumpkin Hollow Gazette

8/5/23 | TDM #2: "Down in the Underground"
Content Warnings: [Article 2] claustrophobia, caves, drowned corpse
[Article 4] Various violence by monster

We're glad you're here!

WELCOME TO PUMPKIN HOLLOW!

By Yorick Aberdeen

JACK'S MARINA - Reports from the Pumpkin Hollow Port Authority indicate that arrivals by otherworldly newcomers to Marrow Isle are continuing at a steady rate. The first batch of new arrivals, which had been the very first travelers to Pumpkin Hollow in at least five years’ time, began in early June of this year and have already proven to be an incredible boon to both our economy and our overall quality of life. We now have a new farm on the island for the first time in years, as well as clever new members of the constabulary, a few helpful craftspeople, and even our own brand new local musical act. Not only that, but the prestigious Ms. Dahlia Leeds has taken a personal assistant, which this reporter is pleased to announce has gotten him out of a number of mundane tasks. (No offense is meant to Ms. Leeds, of course--- the Pumpkin Hollow Gazette certainly harbors no ill will toward its most consistent donor!)

According to interviews with a number of these newcomers, they appear to all come from realms far beyond our own, to the point where they have homelands with unfamiliar names and have never heard of the Emerald Isles at all. Those willing to share more details report that they each met with a strange woman in a bland-looking office building who offered them a chance at a new life, then found themselves on the ferry here. None of them seem to know anything further, as far as the Pumpkin Hollow Gazette is aware. Curious circumstances indeed.

That said, we are beyond pleased to welcome even more new neighbors to our fair town. Any newcomers should feel welcome to come to Town Hall if they are in any need of assistance. Mayor Poe and any member of Town Council would all be more than happy to lend a hand.

Additionally, the Temple of Sacred Roots will be holding a small gathering on temple grounds to welcome any wayward souls who could use a bit of help adjusting. Reverend Degas Clayton would also like to remind everyone that he is always available to offer guidance after any of his Sunday sermons unless otherwise stated. He has expressed an interest in personally welcoming as many new residents as he is able.

Hopefully things will continue to look up for Pumpkin Hollow as more arrivals land upon our docks. This will be of particular importance as we draw ever closer to Autumn. October in particular promises to be an especially difficult time, as usual. The Pumpkin Hollow Gazette will report further on our paranormal forecast as the season of spirits draws near. We hope to keep local casualties to a minimum this year after last year’s record high.

In any case, best of luck to our new residents, and welcome again!

NOTORIOUS 'RIVER WALKER' SPOTTED AFTER LONG ABSENCE; EXTREME CAUTION ADVISED

By Yorick Aberdeen

The Paring River Bridge in Lockwood Forest.

LOCKWOOD FOREST (Paring River) - Woodland travelers beware! And not just for all of the usual reasons, either. This past weekend, local shepherd Joseph Peterson reported to the local constabulary that he had an encounter with a creature that had been presumed to have moved on from our fair isle. Peterson, 37, allegedly came across the beast colloquially known as the “River Walker” while crossing the Paring River bridge near the entrance of Lockwood Forest, where he was grabbed and knocked out. Once he regained consciousness, Peterson then reported being lost in an underground cave system whilst being pursued by the monster for an unknown amount of time estimated between six and twelve hours.

The River Walker, a spider-like creature with the face of a human corpse, is so named because it appears to exclusively use the Paring River as its hunting ground. The creature is apparently completely unique to Marrow Isle, as the Pumpkin Hollow Historical Society was unable to uncover folklore or recorded sightings of anything matching the River Walker’s description in any of the texts they have access to. However, through collecting data from resurrected residents who were its victims, the Town Hall Safety Board was able to glean information about this menace that should help citizens avoid yet another timely demise.

Firstly, all residents traveling in the Lockwood Forest should steer clear of the Paring River if possible. While it is true that the Paring River cuts directly through the forest near the entrance and arcs through the majority of the woodlands, and also that the main path through the woods which goes over the Paring River bridge is the only way through to Crane’s RIdge or any of the hunting areas, the river should still be avoided whenever residents are able. This will minimize potential contact.

Secondly, be aware of your surroundings when near the river. Data indicates that the creature will make a soft chittering sound before reaching up to grab a victim. Many prior victims also report the surrounding area seeming “too still” when the creature was in the area. If you experience any of these phenomena, it would be wise to run--- though most reports suggest that outrunning the River Walker aboveground is impossible. But still, it is important to do your best.

And lastly, should you be taken below ground with this monstrous creature, it will transport you to tight underground caves where you will be forced to crawl, squeeze, and climb for your life. All the while it will follow you, taunting and toying with you. Utilize these long, grueling hours to your advantage! Studies have shown that the River Walker struggles to attack groups of two or more effectively, so while you are being tortured, search for a traveling companion!

If you do encounter the River Walker, please report the sighting to the Town Council or the Historical Society regardless of whether or not you die. Those killed by the River Walker are encouraged to stop by the Oak & Iron for a copy of the Safety Board’s Advice Pamphlet for the Recently Deceased after resurrecting. And remember, quitters are tastier prey, so don’t give in to despair! Even if you are caught and killed, you can at least say you persisted out of spite.

BLUE ISLAND CRAB HATCHING SEASON BEGINS AS SUMMER HEAT PERSISTS

By Yorick Aberdeen

A little sketch by yours truly.

TAWNY BEACH - If you’re out on the beach enjoying the last month of warm sea water, be mindful where you step! Earlier this spring, the local Blue Island Crab population had their mating season. Males of the species came up on the shore with clusters of tiny but durable eggs bundled up in their claws and buried them in the sand, and they’ve been warmed by the summer sun all season. As we enter the last month of summer the new crabs are finally ready to emerge from their birthplaces and begin their lives.

It is worth noting, however, that newborn Blue Island Crabs tend not to go directly back to the sea. In fact, it is common for them to spend the first few weeks of their lives searching for food and nesting materials such as seashells, driftwood, broken pottery, or small pieces of metal roughly the size of the average piece of valuable jewelry. They are also very adept climbers and are capable of scaling stairs and countertops with relative ease. Additionally, they seem to be able to communicate well with others of their species and are capable of collaborating. Many townsfolk have even gone so far as to describe their behavior as “scheming.” Blue Island Crabs are also notorious for not being very picky about what they eat. All this is to say, expect to have your food, personal items, and practically anything that is not tied down stolen by small blue crabs.

An unfortunate side effect of the hex has been that the beloved and highly anticipated Cucumber Festival, which normally takes place in early June, had to be canceled due to a lack of cucumbers. This has earned the ire of a great many residents who have cited the festival as “their last source of a modicum of joy on this goddess-forsaken island”, among other more colorful statements.

But there is good news! Hatching season and the subsequent early life of the crabs, all told, will not last more than a few weeks before the crabs mature enough to return to the sea with the rest of their kind. And of course those lucky enough to catch some will report that they make for a fine meal. There is no finer party dish than a Blue Island crab boil!

INCREASED PINE DEVIL SIGHTINGS SPELL BAD NEWS FOR LOCAL PEDESTRIANS

By Yorick Aberdeen

A painting of the Pine Devil provided by Mayor Poe

ISLAND-WIDE - In more concerning news, reports have been coming in from all over the island that there have been an uptick in sightings of the Pumpkin Hollow Howler. Otherwise known as the Pine Devil, this extremely dangerous man-eating beast has been a staple of Marrow Isle’s rotating cast of horrors for at least the past 15 years. Much like the aforementioned River Walker, the Pine Devil has a tendency to come and go and sightings fluctuate with some regularity. It seems that as we draw closer to prime haunting season we will be faced with increased appearances from the island’s least-favorite celebrity.

Here’s what we know:

The Howler’s primary motivation is to eat and he prefers larger prey. This includes pigs, cattle, deer, and humans. He has no known den and is apparently nomadic. No one has ever been able to locate the Pumpkin Hollow Howler when he is not actively hunting. At full height, he stands a whopping eight feet tall on unguligrade legs. He has clawed hands and large fangs which are its primary method of attacking and is capable of flight, and his eyes glow blue in the dark. He is a strong, fast creature who has no qualms about coming into town if necessary. Surviving encounters with the beast is notably rare.

If you have any encounters with the Pumpkin Hollow Howler, report to Town Hall or the constable’s station at your earliest convenience to make an incident report. The constabulary is taking reports 24 hours a day, so please make your report either immediately after the incident or upon resurrection. May your lanterns stay lit, and be safe out there!

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Captured by the River Walker? Click here…

Perhaps you didn’t read the paper. Perhaps you didn’t take the warnings seriously. Or maybe you simply had no other choice. Whatever the case may be, the Paring River Bridge lies before you, and the world around you is unnaturally still. The sounds of chirping birds, burrowing mammals, and chittering insects have all died and left the air uncannily silent.

You attempt to hurry across, hoping to make it before anything unsavory catches your scent. But the moment you place your foot upon the stone pavers of the bridge, it is already too late. Behind you, you can hear the scuttling of much too large insectoid legs and a soft rattling sound, almost like the sound of a woodpecker drilling into a tree but somehow… wetter.

Instinctively, you turn to look behind you. A bulbous, lumpy abdomen drags the ground, and from it extends a set of eight black legs, chunky and irregular, as if they were wooden stakes hewn into rough points with a careless knife. Long, spindly fingers extend from thin arms on either side of an emaciated torso covered in shiny black insect carapace. And on top, the face of a human woman who looked as though she’d been drowned, bloated and rotting. White eyes, matted brown hair, and a wicked smile framed by patchy blue lips.

You black out before you even have the chance to scream.

When you awaken, your head is pounding as if you’ve just woken from a bender. You are on a dirty, irregular stone floor. The beginnings of stalagmites jab into your back. In the distance, you can hear dripping water and the shifting of something moving. It is dark, but light enough to see by, allowing you to see plainly that the ceiling above you is significantly too low for you to stand.

Then, you hear a laugh, hoarse and cruel. “Rise and shine, little morsel. Oh, how I do love to play with my food…”

That’s your cue to get moving.

For the next several long, grueling hours, you crawl your way through this tight and unrelenting fortress of stone on hands and knees as rocks cut into your hands. In caves that are tall enough to stand, you have to walk sideways to proceed or even hold your breath in order to make it, and all the tunnels look more or less the same. The River Walker’s raspy voice echoes off the walls, making its location imperceptible… but it’s close.

You need to find a traveling companion. And soon.

Interested in encountering the Pine Devil? Click here...

The Pine Devil is a mod-run NPC and we can only handle a certain number of encounters at once. For this TDM we will be favoring new characters on a first-come, first-served basis. However, you may still handwave or summarize the encounter by rolling a D20 with 15+ to survive and 18+ to walk away unscathed, and write out the aftermath. You do not need a mod’s permission to do this!

You also do not need to fill out a Death Certificate if you're not fully apped in, but can if you want to. Your character will resurrect as normal either way!

Comments

River la Croix | Dungeon Life Quest | OTA

[somebodychildofanyone]

Crab Boil

This has to be the most fucked thing a la Croix - no, River lies, the family has much more fucked things in its history. But on an ontological level this has to take the cake. She's been hired after death to another world at the behest of its local death god, and maybe her sister manages to resurrect her on the original one, maybe not. Either way, her duty is pretty clear. She is Somebody, child of Anyone, and she's been asked to Do Something.

Right now, though, is getting the lay of the land, and these crabs are going to be a problem. The first one that tries to steal her food gets killed, a quick and clean knife cut with an expert hand. After trying to raise it from the dead as a construct, River gets the first shock of her new life: the spell won't take. That's interesting.

This information leads her to the beach, looking for something that doesn't reek of this place's tainted death, and thence to the old, discarded shells of crabs that have molted and the corpses of those that washed up from the waters before they could be fully eaten. A little needle and thread, a few staples, and voila! Her first servants: a small squad of crab zombies, which she quickly sets to hunting down their living cousins.

Find her at any point in this process, or at a beachside campfire making a crab boil. There's entirely too much for one elf, no matter how food insecure she's used to being, but that's okay - a la Croix should be hospitable.

Forge-Fire

The shortage of blacksmiths to service the new arrivals caught River by surprise. Do people just not need weapons with monsters running around the place? She secures a job in one of the smithies as fast as she reasonably can, agreeing to pay a cut of her sales in exchange for the right to use and modify her own forge.

Catch her here preparing her bona fides, stripped down to the lightest shirt she can wear and a heavy apron, muscled arms working the forge with steady intent. There are repeated scars running down her arms, from the shoulder to the wrist, overlapping and identical sigils in some strange, runic language. They're glowing in the light of the forge, reflecting it back.

Or catch her just a little bit later, carving those same sigils into the emptied forge, its coals neatly packed away...

Supply Run

Y'all there's an elf buying a truly absurd amount of corn meal alongside things like chicken bones, loose feathers, and semiprecious gems. That might be weird.

Wildcard

Hit me up on Discord if you have another idea I'm kinda trying to bust these prompts out before my house loses power in this thunderstorm.

Crab~

[lordoftheozarks]

Erik is carrying a few dead crabs of his own out to the beach when he crosses her path. He looks with confusion at her working with needle and thread to... is she sewing dead crabs back together?

"What on earth are you doing with those?"

[somebodychildofanyone]

River's ears swivel in the new arrival's direction, tracking him with far more articulation than his...

...Recent Huntress, let us say. River doesn't look up, absorbed in her work, but she does reply in a casual tone, her accent lilting: "Thought a dead man would know necromancy when he sees it. I'm making some minions."

[lordoftheozarks]

He halts. More than that, he goes deadly still. A necromancer. This could be dangerous.

"Undead, if you want to be specific." He's not bothering to hide how insulted he is in his tone. "I am a vampire, thank you very much. And, if it's minions you want, take these." He drops the dead crabs he collected from his home right at her feet.

[somebodychildofanyone]

River glances at them, then shakes her head. "No dice, they're tainted. Or hooked, maybe? Let me show you a neat trick, Sir Vampire - stop perceiving the bodies. I'll do the same."

She rolls up a sleeve, casually, yes, but revealing those scarred sigils...

And closes her eyes.

[lordoftheozarks]

"I cannot pretend to understand what you mean." Stop perceiving? Does she mean for him to look away? He does so by virtue of focusing on those scars marring her arms instead. Did she do that to herself?

forge fire.

[hydrophonics]

The woman that lingers near the now empty forge is dressed in light colors, a wrap over her arms, over her head like a hood. She just stands there for a long moment, hanging around like a weird NPC that will simply appear to offer a quest, before she finally speaks. A little slower, as though her mind is translating as she goes on.

"What are you writing?"

She also has a large refillable water bottle in a hand, clutching to it like a lifeline. The sun has its effects, after all.

[somebodychildofanyone]

River's ears move before the rest of her head does, swiveling directly at the new person. She finishes etching the sigil she's working on before she turns, smiling in a friendly way. "Come on in, I don't bite. Take a closer look, just don't touch 'em."

If the stranger does come closer, she may well notice that each sigil is exactly identical to the others, forming an overlapping pattern that spreads through the forge.

They also match the scars on River's arms.

[hydrophonics]

"Not you," she clarifies, though she does come closer after taking a drink from the bottle. "Forges are often too warm. Made of fire."

But a calm one like this, she can approach without ill effect. And...it's all the same. On the woman's arms, on the forge itself. Decoration wouldn't lead to the scars being the same. It means something, and the desire to know tugs at her mind.

"...Protection?"

[somebodychildofanyone]

"Not quite." Closer up, the interiors of the sigils are etched with tiny words in a strange, circular script. "Summoning. I am making a home in this forge for hellfire, the flames of the Forge Below, which I'm used to working with. The sigils will call it into its bed, and more will teach the forge to nurture the flame."

[hydrophonics]

"What forge below? The depths cannot hold fire."

Still, she sounds curious enough to take it as a learning opportunity, not a slight.

"They are...at odd ends to each other.

Supply Run

[witheredpeonies]

It so happens at some point that these two characters coincide in a shop. Annabel Lee is on the search for lace and ribbon, River for...something that probably isn't that, and their paths cross.

Need there be any further reason for a thread to occur, when one's playing seamstress and their meeting is fated?

[somebodychildofanyone]

River double takes. She triple takes. This person may be the strangest ghost she's ever sensed, and yet she's also tangled in this place's strange death the way River herself is. A native? Someone else brought here by the white-haired lady?

Either way, a seamstress, judging by her purchases. Social excuse acquired. River makes an earnest apology to the store owner she's speaking to and jogs over with the universal apologetic smile of one who knows they're being mildly rude. "Excuse me! Pardon me - is that lace for a personal project, or is sewing your profession?"

She winces inwardly. Surely there was a better way to say that.

[witheredpeonies]

"You've caught me, stitcheress by trade." Yes, that's so not a real word, but she's not a proper seamstress or tailor; Annabel Lee's strictly limited to the sort of needlework she's learned to impress her mother and her tutors and future husbands (though none of the potentials for that last ever met her standard).

"Why, do you need lace sewn onto the sleeves of your shirt? Your collar?"

[somebodychildofanyone]

Victoryyyyy!

"No, no, ah -" River grins, sheepishly, and offers a polite bow. "River la Croix, at your service. I'm actually looking for a hooded cloak in something other than wool, so I don't...you know, get wet once and then die. The shops have plenty but it'll need modifications." She taps the tip of her ear by way of demonstration.

[witheredpeonies]

Those sure are ears, huh?

"Oh! Are we thinking little...earholes like buttonholes, or something like ear-pockets? It's definitely doable, either way."

Forge-Fire

[graveling]

You know how at Renn Faires and historical reenactment sites, you end up with people just watching craftspeople ply their trade. Angel seems to be doing that right now. Standing outside the smithy, staring in and watching River work, stock still and transfixed by the light on both her arms and in the forge itself.

(Which probably isn't all THAT odd, but the fact that he's failing to, like, blink or breathe as he does so might be.)

[somebodychildofanyone]

River is making the little things. Wire, rivets, nails, shanks; every blacksmith needs them, for nearly everything. Angel has come to an important moment in a young forge's life, its birth in many ways. Armed with these pieces, River can start making tools with which to make more tools, and then shit gets real.

Her audience doesn't go unnoticed, but River doesn't stop working. Instead she patiently finishes her batch of rivets, and then starts something new. This one goes much faster, a matter of minutes, and when it's done River turns and lifts the metal mask she wears to protect her face from sparks.

Held in her tongs is a square knot forged from steel, still glowing bright. She flashes her audience a welcoming smile.

[graveling]

“Sorry, hoping you didn’t mind having an audience or nothing. I, uh. Never seen someone making shit like this before.” He remains on the outside of the smithy, but does move to a doorway or other appropriate place for conversation.

[somebodychildofanyone]

"It's quite fine. I did leave the door open." River waves Angel in, setting the knot down to cool. He feels...off, in a concerning way, but after the vampire and the ghost she's going to mind her manners slightly more.

[graveling]

"You did."

And so he moves just inside the threshold, without actually approaching too close to her, looking for all the world like a skittish stray of some stripe. Cat, dog, baby dragon. Who knows?

Forge-Fire

[strigiformer]

River and Nightshade must have arrived quite close together; by the time Nightshade speaks to Dahlia about what jobs need doing, the town is still in need of artisans, of blacksmiths. They're happy to take the advice of finding what they need to know in the library, and are heading back to their new home with several books in their arms when they spot the open smithy, the person working at the forge...

They wait patiently for a moment where she doesn't seem so busily at work, not wanting to interrupt, and watching the way she uses the forge with interest. It's so different from the way they used to work at home, but very compelling.

[somebodychildofanyone]

The smith looks up as she sets a piece aside to cool, double-takes immediately, and lifts her face mask. She's sweating like a sinner in church, but her expression is one of blinking curiosity rather than blatant incomprehension. One of the Thirdborn, here? She checks herself mentally; odds are high that this personage comes from another world, one not like her own. She needs to not make assumptions.

"Welcome, uh -" 'Goodman' and 'Goody' are both wrong here, um, fuck, nope got it, "- citizen. River la Croix, resident smith here at Infernal Arms, can I assist you?"

[strigiformer]

Nightshade is unbothered by the curiosity; it feels like something of a middle point between the people here who shy away from them and those who immediately approach with friendly greetings, and River is friendly enough anyway, seemingly unbothered by them and hospitable.

"Oh -- no, at least not at the moment. I didn't want to interrupt," they clarify. "I was surprised to see another blacksmith. I've only just accepted the job myself, I'm still learning how to make things with a forge." They shifted their grip on their books, holding one up in illustration. "It's very nice to meet you -- my name is Nightshade; my pronouns are they/them."

[somebodychildofanyone]

Well, that's oddly formal. Helpful though. River flashes a smile. "One moment then, Nightshade, I gotta...turn this down a bit."

Turn what down? Turn the forge down. There's no coals in it anymore, the fire seemingly feeding on nothing, and River attends to it by covering certain sigils on the outside with little iron plates that conceal them; the flames lower, and with them the temperature starts to drop. "You made a bold choice; smithing's difficult work, but very rewarding. You thinking of having one of the locals teach you?"

Okay yes she's making at least one assumption: that this person is not, in fact, local.