INTRO LOG: A TAXING JOURNEY

[hadrielmods]

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for December. Watch your step!
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: December 10th-17th
Warnings: Taxxon-related violence, teeth shoes, general unpleasantness, mass confusion.

You wake up in the dust of the colosseum with no shoes on, regardless of the state of your feet when you arrived. There's dust covering your clothing and in your hair, but other than that, there's no signs of injury or bruising. You're also not alone- nearby, there are others, either still passed out or just waking up like you are. Feel free to take solace in that fact. Or don't- some of you aren't human, and are clearly not great people either. No offense.

To your left, there is a door in the wall of the arena, supposedly leading to the halls which will then show you to your freedom. To your right, and scattered haphazardly on the ground, are a myriad of teeth shoes. These shoes might be better than going barefoot right now, but good luck finding a matching set, let alone one that fits you.

When you do eventually try to escape, be careful. The halls are crawling with Taxxons. Large and grotesque, these caterpillar-like creatures have circular mouths and multiple rows of sharp teeth. Their sense of smell is impeccable, and they will stop at nothing to feed when they scent blood. So, you know, try to avoid stepping on anything sharp on your way out.

All done with the horrible monsters and awkward greetings? Try your hand at exploring the rest of the city! Find a house, find a new monster, or simply scavenge for supplies until your little heart is content. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers December 10th-17th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well!
► Characters may find their own shoes scattered around with the teeth shoes if you like.
► All characters now arrive with phones that have network communication.
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!

Comments

[howlingblast]

[There are cuter orcs. Rag'kar just isn't one of them. When you're an ex-member of an undead legion, you tend not to look very pretty.]

Yes. Is there some magic that can bring us out of here? Or is that staff for show?

[sparkler]

Everything I do is for show.

[Because he's fabulous and it's important that everyone knows that.]

But it does work, yes. Unfortunately, thus far I've found no way to send anyone home, through magic or any other method. We're stuck.

[howlingblast]

[Rag'kar rolls his eyes, though the gesture is somewhat diminished on a dude with glowing eyes.]

Working, but not useful.

[He gives the nearest debris pile a bitter shove, enough to cause a cacophony of noise.

He's taking this well.]

[sparkler]

Incredibly useful.

[He frowns a bit. That debris did nothing wrong and deserves none of that anger, but hey. At least Dorian's not the one getting shoved.]

Just not useful for magical travel, I'm afraid. Has anyone told you about the Door or the gods?

[howlingblast]

[No, his C.O. would frown on that. But he is tempted, as always, to do terrible things. Dorian's heartbeat is fast and strong. He would probably scream very nicely.]

No. Does it have something to do with this?

[He reaches into a pack on his belt and pulls out the techy thing he woke up with. There's nothing like cell phones on Azeroth. At all.]

[sparkler]

[It's better that Dorian has no idea of those thoughts - though, all things considered, he expects that sort of thing from a creature who looks like this.]

The gods activated the Door, which brought us all here, and now they're using us for the power they receive from our emotions. That's the simple version. As for that -

[He gestures to the phone, dismissive.]

A tool for communication. Elegant enough, I suppose, but there are so very many tiny buttons.

[howlingblast]

Our emotions? [That's... funny. To him. He laughs, and it is not a mirthful noise. It's a deep and echo-y thing, resounding within his armor.] What emotions? I cannot feel anything. I am dead!

[Sort of... yes... technically... maybe.]

There are a great many tiny rubber buttons and for very little purpose, I think. It is garbage. Like everything else in this pit.

[sparkler]

Oh, are you?

[Now that sparks Dorian's curiosity, and he peers closer.]

What keeps you mobile and sentient, then? Magic, I assume? Of what sort?

[He waves away the rest of it, much more interested in whatever new form of necromancy this is.]

Throw it away if you'd like. I rarely carry mine.