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ph_memes2023-08-04 10:37 pm
TDM #2 - Down in the Underground
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!
Page 1
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!
CW: forever (just in case)
His breath leaves him in a surprised exhale. That's a bold question. He likes bold. "I'm glad you find that reassuring. I am, actually, very proud of that fact. A thousand years is a long time to keep one's sanity." Is he flexing a little? Yes. Yes, he is.
"My supply is variable. I have a regular willing donor in town and I have animals in the forest failing that. But I do so crave variety."
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"Variety. Well, let me be a professional first - a donor doesn't sound good for their quality of life, meaning no insult to you personally. It's just that blood takes time to come back." Her ears swivel slightly, focusing intently on Erik. "So, if you're willing to take a gamble on blood from another world, I'm willing to stress test how much of a gentleman you can be about it. But I've got some conditions."
She holds up her wrist. "First, can't bite the arms. You'll burn. That's not a threat, that's a description of what will happen even if I try to stop it. Second, I'm already about to be living openly as a necromancer, so I'm disinclined to bite marks where people can see, for unfortunate reasons of managing the impression I give. I hope you understand that. So my thought is, you bite my leg, above the ankle. Rich vein, out of sight."
Notably River did not ask if feeding is an erotic experience for Erik; that question would be crass, hence laying out the conditions and letting him decide if he's willing to be at her feet.
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"Yes, I'm aware. But you should know that as an Elder I require far less per serving than you might think. I am not being that irresponsible, I assure you." Still, Lucas is going to need a break. Even small doses will stack up over time.
"I am willing. And I am grateful for that warning." No biting the arms. Got it. That's not his most favorite of places anyway.
Now. Here's the thing. He could tell her that her concern over wearing marks isn't necessary because he has the ability to heal them instantly. He could tell her that. But he won't.
"I do understand. I am still in the process of slowly introducing myself openly as a vampire to the town. Many of them will not be welcoming as they have a negative impression of vampires already. I can't help that. But I respect your want to preserve your image. I have a counteroffer if you wish to hear it. Above the ankle is not the only rich vein in a leg. There is one that is even more out of sight."
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"You're right, but assuming is still rude."
She trails her hand down, down, keeping her gaze locked on Erik's. Don't look at her hand. Don't worry about it. "But that hardly addresses me wanting to know if you can be a gentleman, sir. Especially if you want more than sustenance from me. I'm not intending on giving birth to any dhampir any time soon, and it's hardly a casual fling sort of activity, so...how do you intend to prove to me that you'll listen when I tell you my limits?"
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"Lady Necromancer, I am literally the town's premier whore. Name exchanges are not a necessary part of the transaction. But, you are right. It is rude that I haven't properly introduced myself."
He doesn't so much as twitch as her hand goes lower.
"I am more than a gentleman. Lord Erik Osborne, leader of the Ozark Mountain Clan, at your service."
Okay, when she suggests the possibility of getting pregnant, that makes him blink. She'll have to hold for the answer to her question of proof because he needs to seek clarification on this issue.
"Pregnant? I am not capable of impregnating anyone, even if I wished. I hardly think that's a concern?"
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They're both deadly to each other, and River knows for sure she can keep a level head. She needs to stay in control of this admittedly impulsive decision.
"River la Croix, journeyman necromancer," she introduces back. "And consider my concern about pregnancy...best practices, which I am willing to explain after negotiations conclude. Though I'm curious..."
Down, down...
"Just minutes ago you were rather justifiably nervous. When did this head -" River's hand finishes its slow journey by gently but insistently squeezing Erik's crotch through his pants, "Start helping your decision making process?"
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He is still willfully refusing to look down while her hand travels lower, but she is going to find that second head growing eager when she reaches the bulge between his legs.
"Just minutes ago I could not be sure if you were the reasonable sort. I am more sure of that now. I am also a reasonable man, in case you were getting any ideas about puppeting me by my cock instead. I can be dealt with, but I won't tolerate being controlled." He slightly resents the insinuation that he's thinking with his dick.
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Listen. River hasn't been fucked in nearly a year now, and she likes what she feels. Her cheeks get a kiss of pink, but she's still in control. "...If I had certain supplies this'd be easy, unlock the back door, but none of that was in my pockets when I stepped off the ferry. So...your bona fides as a gentleman, sir?"
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"You may need to be more direct about what you are asking for if you want to avoid confusion. You'll no doubt note that I have kept my hands entirely to myself thus far. I am not overly greedy or selfish in my lovemaking. I can be satisfied by more creative means if that's your desire. But, please do be clear."
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It's a playful way to say 'seduce me', but if the way River's nimble fingers are working on Erik's pants is any indication, she's very ready to be seduced, right here outside near the beach.
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"I would like to taste from your inner thigh, my dear. I can be ever-so-gentle with my teeth, making it feel no more stinging than a particularly strong hickey. I have no natural venoms, but my tongue is skillful enough that I cannot guarantee to leave you thinking clearly when I'm finished with you. The blood tastes best when it's heated by pleasure, you see, and my face will already be there between your legs, it's not such a long march up from the stem to the flower petals is it?"
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Her legs rub together.
"I can hardly leave you high and dry, sir vampire. What a poor way for me to appreciate your art..." If Erik's not stopping her, River is getting his cock out, squeezing it in her hand calloused from swordplay and the forge. The heat from her sigils spreads through her arm, giving her grip a distinct and steady warmth. "I like your offer, not least because anyone walking in on us will only see me enjoying it rather than being fed upon, but before I return my own are you certain that's all you want? Being caught naked in public will pale before the scandal of my profession, sir."
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"Mmmm," a throaty moan also escapes between his teeth when she frees him from his trousers. He may have iron willpower but even that is hard to maintain when she sends such blissful heat through his hardened shaft. Fuuuck is that part of her fire ability too? She's going to be very dangerous to him.
His voice is distinctly husky when he manages to vocalize a proper answer. "I want as much as you are willing to give me."
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He turns his head enough that he can get his eyes on her ears. They do call to him, so he is grateful to be forewarned. No teeth, but curiosity still tugs hard on him.
"You can taste that and anything else you like. Though, I feel it only fair to warn you that my own sense of taste is dead to all things but blood. That doesn't prevent me from enjoying the texture, however."
Now, at last, his hands move to caress her, sliding up her back until he locks his fingers behind her neck. How sensitive are her ears? He just has to know. His tongue flicks out to tease the point, feather light like the flick of a serpent's tongue.
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She rallies, though: "Taste anything else I like? If I wanted you on all fours so I can milk this -" River squeezes his cock again, still not quite stroking, both hands so very warm, "- and lick your ass?"
It's a small test, of sorts. Erik said he refuses to be controlled, but being milked like that is generally submissive.
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He does not prefer acts of blatant submission, but he has tolerated certain amounts of it not just for his profession here but in certain encounters at home. He is an Elder, but he is still relatively young for one. Sometimes negotiations require compromise. This doesn't seem like such a difficult one... not when her hand is still so invitingly warm against his stiff cock. His hips hitch forward just slightly, tormented that she refuses to properly stroke him.
"If that would please you, then yes."
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She'd be offended if it wasn't so convenient to her tastes.
"It would," River says, breathlessly, offering up one more squeeze before she starts stroking. "I can't have this how I really want it right now, s-so..."
So she might as well tease herself.
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"I'm not complaining."
He's working his way down her exposed skin until he reaches the collar of her shirt. "I'd offer to rip this off of you but clothes are so hard to come by these days."
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The narration would like to note that River is bragging here; if she was thinking with her brain rather than, you know, the organ she's currently thinking with, she'd realize that after a thousand years the odds are pretty high that Erik has fucked soldiers before.
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He pulls back to look at her with a full-tooth grin. "You think I haven't had my fair share of soldiers?" Alas, Josiah isn't among them. What a shame.
"Ah, but while we are on the subject of undressing I must make a rule of my own known. You are not to expose my back."
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Is it a joke? Yes. Does she mean it? Also yes. Completely. Sincerely. With all the intensity of someone who's barely over 20 by human standards and burns with the lusts of youth.
River undresses with all the speed she promised, her clothes getting thrown into a neat pile, leaving her bare to anyone who might wander by. The thought of being caught is...incredibly thrilling to her. Her body, exposed for Erik to drink in, is a work of slender curves and taut muscle, layered with scars. There's her arms, of course, where her sigils have overwritten older defensive wounds still visible to the keen eye, but there are so many more. Knife cuts left their kisses on her round breasts where foes uncounted tried to find her heart and lost their own in the doing; her thighs and calves bear the starry marks of stab wounds and the short white lines of slashes. Old bruises along her ribs, long since faded, still aren't quite the same color as the rest of her skin; the scars there are beneath it, where her ribs broke and were healed by magic.
On her flat belly, a star-shaped wound that should have killed her, where a spear was thrust in and twisted, scrambling her guts. The deathblow that led to her new life.
The elf leans back, baring herself before Erik with an odd mix of boldness and girlish shyness, thrilled and breathing hard, but nervous and unsure at the same time. Her eyes watch his face, hoping he likes what he sees.
Scared that her soldier's scars might be too much for him, as they have been to so many men and women before.
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He leans back on his hands so he can properly appreciate the speedy strip show she's giving him. He looks on, unflinching, not even blinking, as each new scar is revealed. She was a busy soldier, wasn't she? That one on her belly draws a small and fleeting frown because the look of it is so... familiar. It was over a thousand years ago now, but the memory of a spear thrusting through his guts will be forever etched into his memory.
The frown doesn't last, however, when his eyes sweep back up, lingering a moment on her exposed chest, before settling for her face. She's a vision of pure eroticism, eager yet shy, her chest rising and falling with her quickened breath. He's looking at her not unlike how a dog would look at a T-bone steak in his food dish.
Slowly, tenderly, he reaches out to cup her breast, stroking his chilled thumb gently over one of those scars. "You are beautiful. I am going to enjoy eating you up." A beat "Metaphorically in this case. Mostly."
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"Gods in Arcadia I'm buying condoms the instant I'm done at this beach," River whispers. She spreads her legs, touches Erik's calf with her toes. A boldness seizes her: "I want to see that bite mark every time I masturbate until it heals. Do it, drink me up."
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"I do so love a woman who knows how to ask for exactly what she wants."
One moment, he's sitting there beside her, the next, he's kneeling between her legs. He grins up at her, performatively stroking his tongue across his teeth, toying with the point as is to say 'soon, these will be buried in you.' But he's going to make her moan a little more for him, first.
His hands grip the outside of her thighs, pressing down firmly but not painfully. Mostly, he's concerned about holding her in place so she doesn't tumble off the rock in her ecstasy. Oh, yes, he expects to make that a challenge for her.
The scent of her fills his nostrils, and he deliberately takes a noisy sniff so she knows he's savoring it. Then his tongue stops toying with his own teeth so he can slide it up the inside of her thigh, instead. A slow tease. He can sense how desperate she is for him, but that just makes him want to take his time even more.
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Wrap?