Vanyel's Map: Blackavar Island
Characters: Vanyel and any others who signed up here! Feel free to use the CR meme to plot.
Summary: During the late-summer fair, Vanyel acquired a means to create a map, which in turned showed the existence of an island that no one has seen, despite flyovers and long-distance scanning. He has now organized a party to explore it. This log is for casual interaction, camping, and hiking, as well as mod-run plot factors that may affect the "war."
Date(s): October 5-8
Warnings/Notes: Potential minor injury, booby traps, etc.
All aboard Tony Stark's jet, except for those of us who have flight capability and prefer to go it alone. The airship still looks battered and lacks a weapons array, but can carry eight passengers easy, and most daemons besides. It's a smooth flight over the water, that you may wish to spend chatting with your fellow passengers. Reassuringly, the sensor feed seems to match the map that Vanyel generated exactly, including the shape of the coastline, the location of the city, and the distance to the wall of light opposite the land the interdimensional membrane. All that's missing is the island.
However, as the ship approaches the expected location of the island, the light and water begin to distort, flickering and shredding like a mirage. The next moment, the island emerges, swirling with strange mist. Just like the map shows, it isn't big— a couple miles in each direction at most, but it's steeply mountainous and heavily forested.
There's a variety of weird shit to look at. The Island Effect is exaggeratedly strong here, primarily regarding the fauna.
The bald, pointed-eared fairies that are merely finger-height on the mainland are as tall as adult humans here, and you might see them peeking through the trees then darting away, unwilling to communicate. In the meantime, the green-backed bison are pygmy, coming in at hip-height, and rambling around beyond the treeline. Likewise, the massive sea dragons are down-scaled to the size of dolphins. Still aggravatingly aggressive, though.
Fortunately, Tony parked further up the beach.
It's warm. Far more humid here than on the mainland, thanks to the churning mist, the flora more jungle-like than deciduous sort back East. The trees press in close, and the incline is steep, promising a challenging hike, albeit one filled with interesting and picturesque natural discoveries. Plenty to bitch about, as you have a look around.

Fortunately, there doens't... seem to be anything particularly creepy to worry about as you break camp for the night, at least in terms of nocturnal predators and the like. The fire will keep away animals who are otherwise attracted to the scent of s'mores.
As the search progresses, four stone ruins are scattered throughout the forest. The architectural style bears unmistakable resemblence to the temple at the back of the city, although these are smaller, masked by rotting, toppled trees and half-submerged into dirt. Most of these are marked on Vanyel's map, with a symbol:
✞
But while you're poking around empty arches and derelict rooms, watch for booby traps here or there. Arrows, pits, nets. All of them brittle and rotted now, more liable to drop you on your head than break anything you can't spare— but traps nonetheless. You may have to help disentangle your fellow man from some of that.
For some reason, the only door that looks proper sealed looks almost identical to the one that led to the Memory Share chamber. However, instead of the same jet-black stone that characterizes much of the Temple, this one is a warm shade of brown, coarse, and the elaborately graven surface has held up well to the test of time that defeated most of the traps elsewhere.
No handles, no locks. But when you speak, the carvings begin to glisten oddly.

Summary: During the late-summer fair, Vanyel acquired a means to create a map, which in turned showed the existence of an island that no one has seen, despite flyovers and long-distance scanning. He has now organized a party to explore it. This log is for casual interaction, camping, and hiking, as well as mod-run plot factors that may affect the "war."
Date(s): October 5-8
Warnings/Notes: Potential minor injury, booby traps, etc.
BLACKAVAR ISLAND
Dead winds' and spent waves' riot
OUTBOUND FLIGHT
However, as the ship approaches the expected location of the island, the light and water begin to distort, flickering and shredding like a mirage. The next moment, the island emerges, swirling with strange mist. Just like the map shows, it isn't big— a couple miles in each direction at most, but it's steeply mountainous and heavily forested.
TAKE A HIKE

The bald, pointed-eared fairies that are merely finger-height on the mainland are as tall as adult humans here, and you might see them peeking through the trees then darting away, unwilling to communicate. In the meantime, the green-backed bison are pygmy, coming in at hip-height, and rambling around beyond the treeline. Likewise, the massive sea dragons are down-scaled to the size of dolphins. Still aggravatingly aggressive, though.
Fortunately, Tony parked further up the beach.
It's warm. Far more humid here than on the mainland, thanks to the churning mist, the flora more jungle-like than deciduous sort back East. The trees press in close, and the incline is steep, promising a challenging hike, albeit one filled with interesting and picturesque natural discoveries. Plenty to bitch about, as you have a look around.


Fortunately, there doens't... seem to be anything particularly creepy to worry about as you break camp for the night, at least in terms of nocturnal predators and the like. The fire will keep away animals who are otherwise attracted to the scent of s'mores.
INDIANA JONES AND THE MYSTERIOUS RUINS

But while you're poking around empty arches and derelict rooms, watch for booby traps here or there. Arrows, pits, nets. All of them brittle and rotted now, more liable to drop you on your head than break anything you can't spare— but traps nonetheless. You may have to help disentangle your fellow man from some of that.
At The Stone Door
For some reason, the only door that looks proper sealed looks almost identical to the one that led to the Memory Share chamber. However, instead of the same jet-black stone that characterizes much of the Temple, this one is a warm shade of brown, coarse, and the elaborately graven surface has held up well to the test of time that defeated most of the traps elsewhere.
No handles, no locks. But when you speak, the carvings begin to glisten oddly.

no subject
He doesn't tear his gaze away from the imposter wearing his father's face but gives a small subtle nod to let Amanda know she's been heard. A silent thanks almost for bringing him back to his senses in this moment.
pls describe emotions in your next tags :3
Thordan doesn't seem to notice.
"And you think this peace, forged by light touches and soft hands. You think it will last?"
no subject
"You know, it would have been a lot smarter to keep that projection running until you'd worn me down." It might even have happened, if it had said the right things. But as it is, now it's just a program she wants to pick apart until it behaves the way she wants. She rocks back a bit, trying to look out of the corner of her eye at the room while keeping up some pretense of looking at the figure mocking them. The light is impossible to ignore, but its function is still alluding her. "It was a good attempt, though."
no subject
"Even longer than your millennia of lies and corruption," he doesn't quite spit back but just barely keeps his tone level. "But you aren't him," he adds, more to himself than to Amanda or the hologram itself. A reaffirmation. "Telling you this is fruitless."
no subject
The blue light emanating from the door brightens no further, although it pulses patiently at the sound of Amanda and Aymeric's voices.
In the meantime, the old patriarch seems to skate right past his alleged artificiality. "I am but the dead, who may thwart you and your missions no further. Had I been in my right mind, I would have mourned. You are my son. You were my heir. I did not wish to elicit your wrath."
no subject
And it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because this is a program or at least something very close to it, doing what it's been made to do by something or someone, and as much as she would love to be fascinated with it and pick it apart, right now she just wants to shut it down and make it stop.
She sees that the lights aren't getting any brighter, and isn't sure if that's good or bad. If it's gotten enough of whatever it wanted from them--their anger, maybe, it wouldn't be unreasonable to think that it could be feeding off that.
Like how Eudio had been powered by positive connections.
She could kick herself for not thinking of that sooner, considering. But Camile had thrown her off her game far too much.
She swallows, stepping back close to Aymeric. "I think it did. It wanted to upset us to...wake itself up." She says, softly. She knows the thing can hear them, but it's instinct to drop her voice.
no subject
And he did, but at a much heftier cost than he could have ever fathomed. So to hear his false father say that he was his son, he was an heir, he was... everything he wanted to be to him snuffs out the flames of anger and leaves only a bitter sadness in its wake. "I believe you're correct," he answers, directed at Amanda. That's easier than trying to continue speaking to the image of Thordan before him.
It succeeded, he thinks but doesn't say. Still, he's definitely not as frosty as he was just a moment ago. There's a resigned slump to his shoulders, something melancholy. Pained. He's grieving, maybe, for the father he wishes Thordan could have been and all that was lost.
no subject
And like that, the blue glow begins to brighten, like somebody grabbed the dimmer switch and spun. Just like before, there's a grinding clunk and scratch of stone parts moving around within the door. And the stone slab slides aside, revealing within a chamber.
The patterns of light that had marked the hallway walls and the door, now continue into here. They run across the ceiling, move across the floor. Inscrutable patterns that look like a language of some sort-- none that either Elezen and his companion recognize. In the meantime, the figure that represented their torment seems to have vanished.
Instead, there's a glowing beam of blue light up ahead, in which something tiny glints, floating. And there's a new figure resting against the far wall, face shadowed, distorted by the intervening light.
no subject
Come on. It can't be any worse than...that.
[wishful thinking, probably]
no subject
He takes notice of the new person (?) that is behind the chamber's doors as well as the object glinting against the light. Someone that had been waiting for them? Were they the ones responsible for all the tricks and traps?
"Greetings," he starts, just in case. "I presume that you might have some explanations for us." Ever the diplomat, even now.
no subject
not quite.
And as they get nearer, the figure resolves into an old man. "Indeed. Congratulations," he says. "You have completed the empathy game. A high achievement. That is your prize, much good as it'll do to you."
no subject
Still, she can't help being a bit snippy]
If this is how you help people, I'd hate to see how you hurt them.
[but she's also looking curiously at the bit of glass, barbecue she's a scientist even when she's really, really angry]
no subject
"I suppose that makes this," a glance to Amanda and the levitating object, "the prize to be won?"
no subject
The bit of glass does not attack or try to harm them either. It merely continues to float, suspended in the air, the vertical beam of light.
"But you're right about one thing. It is your prize. Take it, if you wish."