Outside 46

[Deathkeeper]

[Black Forest]

A lone traveler hustles through the spooky forest. Gnarled, blackened branches arch over what little could be called a path. Little but thorns, branches, and rocks seem to choke this region, and that's certainly daunting for our traveler. Dressed in long, draping clothes that cover the face and neck, they do seem to be overdressed for the cool, Autumn air. But that's not important. What's important is getting somewhere safe.
Wherever that is.

[closed scene]

[Rebonack]

[Black Forest]

Wait.

Wait, really?

Long, flowing attire in a spooky forest full of grasping vines and raking thorns?

That's just asking for trouble. Like, getting your clothing torn up sort of trouble.

See?

Some brambles caught the outfit just now. Probably tore a big gash in it, too. What an awful choice for wearing when fleeing through the Black Forest. Unless, of course, it wasn't a choice at all. Sometimes a person doesn't have any choice in what they're wearing or what they look like. Especially when someone or something else is pulling the strings. But that's not what's going on at all, is it? Just your average, normal, billowy cloak wearing person hustling through an enchanted forest.

Did we fail to mention the forest was enchanted?

We probably should have.

That's an important point. Pretty major hazard, that. Someone should really put up a sign or something.

Because any time someone steps into an Enchanted Forest, they're passing into an unknown realm of liminality and transformation. And if they're really lucky, that's a figurative transformation meaning 'growing wiser' or 'coming of age' rather than 'get turned into a deer'.

Wonder which one it'll be this time?

As the traveler flees deeper, the sunlight gradually wains until the forest floor is suffused in an uncanny twilight wherein it is both lightless and yet plainly visible. A soothing warmth suffice the wood, a lulling sense of comfort in spite of the pounding horror clutching at the heart. A smothering sensation of unseen malice waiting just beyond the edge of perception married to a dulling of the senses. Something is lurking in this forest. Something hungry. Something hunting. Something-

"Ooooga booga booga!" shouts a hideous knee-high goblin as it leaps atop a log along the traveler's path, no doubt trying to startle them enough to stumble.

[Deathkeeper]

[Black Forest]

Our traveler suffers a nasty gash in the bottom of their outfit, on their leg. They press on, oblivious to enchantments, feelings, and oncoming goblins.
They cry out with a wordless shout, and jump back, off balance and teetering in surprise.

[Rebonack]

[Black Forest]

"You were supposed to fall over!" the goblin shouts in transparent rage as it stomps a tantrum in a little withershins circle atop its log. He seems very upset by this development. "You were supposed to fall over, you're doing it wrong! You were supposed to fall over and crack your head on those jagged rocks!"

There are, in fact, several suitably jagged rocks sticking out of the trail not to far ahead. Nasty, pointy looking things. If one looks close, they might even spy some rusty stains on them...

As for the goblin, it is a thoroughly unpleasant little creature. It's flesh and face are eerily reminiscent of a jack-o-lanturn that has been left out on the porch a few weeks too many, complete with a stem-like horn sticking out of the top of its head and curving in at an odd angle. The thing is otherwise humanoid-shaped, aside from its sagging, corpulent countenance. It's also wearing a bright red jacket with shiny brass buttons and a pair of black trousers. No hat, though. That's a good sign. When you encounter a goblin wearing a hat, that's either a bad sign or a REALLY bad sign.

"Why have you got to do it wrong? You have you got to make this hard, huh? HUH?" the goblin demands of the traveler, jabbing a sausage-like finger at them.

Geeze.

Calm down, guy.

[Deathkeeper]

[Black Forest]

The traveler, who does not have any interest in suffering cranial damage which would be potentially lethal. So they are quite happy to have not cracked their head on the rocks.

What they do instead, when confronted by a gross, fat, and grossly fat goblin?

They run away, of course. Running!

[Rebonack]

[Black Forest]

Running is probably wise.

"Hey! Come back here!" huffs the goblin as it leaps off its log and gives chase! Of course, the grotesque little creature is plainly out of shape and doesn't manage to keep up for long. Pretty soon to jogs to a halt, puffing and yelling obscenities after the traveler.

Well!

That's one obstacle overcome.

But there's always another.

Before long, the traveler will come upon a new sight. It would appear as though some guy got his leg caught in a snare, and now he's dangling awkwardly between heaven and earth from a lash bound tight around his ankle.

The bait that caught him?

A box of crumb donuts.

"Hey," he calls out, doing his best to remain casual whilst hanging upside down. "I, uh, I don't suppose you could give me a hand? It was probably a bit on the stupid side to fall for this, but I figured the risk was worth it when crumb donuts were on the line."

He has a good point. Crumb donuts ARE pretty amazing. The guy in question looks pretty normal, as far as humans go. Though something about him isn't quite right. Hard to place one's finger on, though. The traveler is met with a choice. Continue to flee? Or help a stranger in need here in the Enchanted Forest?

[Deathkeeper]

[Black Forest]

The person in the hood looks back to the goblin waaaaaay over there and then back to this seemingly not-a-goblin in front of them.
They scurry over behind the man and start fiddling with the knot on the leg. The idea that the person themselves could be a trap doesn't occur to them.

[Rebonack]

[Black Forest]

Well!

That's certainly kind of them, helping a stranger out like that in the middle of an enchanted forest. Of course, maybe they've heard a few of the stories that take place in enchanted forests and know that helping the stranger is a good way to gain a boon that will save you later on when you encounter whatever lurking danger you're supposed to be vanquishing.

Is the traveler here to vanquish any lurking dangers?

Maybe they aren't.

Maybe they're just here for a jog?

Though that's a pretty odd outfit to be wearing for a jog.

Regardless, the snare takes a bit of effort to undo. As soon as the tension is released, the branch the snare was attached to snaps back upright as that guy gets dumped on his-

Oh.

Wait.

He's not getting dumped on his face at all.

He's just kind of... hovering there. Exactly where he was while the snare was attached to his leg.

"Oh wow, thanks, that's a ton better," the guy says, flexing his leg a few times whilst hovering upside down. Then he rights himself by rotating his whole body deosil such that his face is stabilized at the center. Then, still being a few feet off the ground, he slowly settles to the path. It probably looks pretty strange. He then makes a vague gesture at the box of donuts, causing it to snap up into his hands, whereupon he'll pull one out and offer it to the traveler. "Doughnut? These are probably my favorite as far as the pre-packaged ones go. Usually I go for old-fashioned, but pre-packaged old fashioned doughnuts never taste right, you know? The frosting always has this weird waxy texture to it."

This is all very strange.

[Deathkeeper]

[Black Forest]

With a hesitant body-language, the person tries to take the donut from the strange man, gobbling it up from under that hood.
There's nothing that could possibly be wrong with fattening foods from a box in an enchanted wood.
Nothing!

Though the person does stare at the fellow a bit. What's he doing here?

[Rebonack]

[Black Forest]

Nope.

Nothing wrong with that at all.

The doughnut tastes... well. Like a crumb doughnut. Specifically one of those Hostess crumb doughnuts that comes in a little plastic wrapper. These ones are bigger, however, and inside a box instead. Important distinction.

That guy stares back.

What are THEY doing here?

Perfectly valid question for either.

"Not even a 'thank you'? No, 'thank you kind sir, your gift of empty calories has renewed my stamina," he says, trying to add as much faux self-pity into his tone as possible. Which is all clearly a joke. He isn't terribly offended at all in the first place. "Haha, yeah, I know that look. 'What are you doing in an enchanted forest full of goblins and elfs and stuff.' Well my hypothetical enquirer, I'm glad you asked. I need more frogs to finish my zoology practical exam, otherwise I won't be able to get to the train on time. And obviously I saw those doughnuts and decided to stop for a quick bite."

...what?

"So same question, right back at you. What are YOU doing in an enchanted forest full of goblins and elfs and stuff?"

[Deathkeeper]

[Black Forest]

The person gestures at their face, and then points to where their mouth is.
Someone stole their voice!
And possibly also their identity.
They have to track down the terrible being responsible for this!

[Celticbear]

Grace's Lake

"Yeaaaaaah. Yeah I'm good without it. I'll just play with everything else. Seems safer, and just more fun over all."

Jonas seems to space out during this line. If Grace is good people reader, she can see that Jonas is reflecting on past events. Past events that part of him clearly does not wish to share, yet another part of Jonas yearns to tell someone, anyone, of his turmoil. All Jonas says though after this moment of reflection: Hm? Oh, yes, fun. Genetics is a bit less fun though. One miscalculation, and you could accidentally create "Cthulhu on Ice" in human form.

[Rebonack]

[Black Forest]

"Someone stole your identity? Great. Just fantastic. How am I supposed to turn in my exam if my lab partner's name isn't on it, too?" the guy bewails. There's... some logic to what he's saying. But it's the tenuous sort of logic one tends to find dreams populated with. Considering that this is an enchanted forest this probably shouldn't come as TOO much of a shock.

Of course...

This all means the guy might be a fae of some kind. Though more likely he's a Dreamer. Whether or not he's Lucid remains to be seen.

"You really should be more careful about phishing scams," he chides the traveler. "That's how they get you. Make you think you're signing into a legitimate web-site, only to steal all your information! It's pretty underhanded. But if you pay attention, they should be pretty obvious."

As he speaks he takes another doughnut and eats it. His mouth is... eer... Well, it looks wider than it should be. And his teeth pointier. But only for a moment. Just long enough to leave someone questioning whether they saw anything at all.

He begins walking down the trail, no real hurry to his stride, quite unlike the traveler's previous mad-dash through the wood. "Okay, so, who stole your identity? Was it from a bank statement or something?"

How on earth is the traveler supposed to reply if they can't talk? Though... the guy DID somehow manage to interpret exactly what the traveler was trying to say in spite of this. Even is his interpretation is a bit... off-kilter.

[Deathkeeper]

[Black Forest]

The traveler holds out their hands. A big guy. Or a big place. A hand is held parallel to the ground at their waist. A small guy? Maybe something short? And then pantomiming something being held in the hand. Something stored in a jar, perhaps?

[Rebonack]

[Black Forest]

This guy has been pretty perceptive so far.

No doubt he'll continue to be so, right?

"Mimes," he spits, pounding one fist into his palm. "Those darn mimes are always stealing identities. Probably Russian hacker mimes."

Okay.

Maybe not.

"Come on, I know a shortcut to where the Russian hacker mimes hide their pickle factory," he says, turning toward the edge of the trail where there stands a...

Refrigerator.

The guy walks over to it, carefully turning the safe-dial on its face this way and that for a few moments before pulling it open to reveal the darkened interior of a pickle factory. The scent of brine is pretty thick in there, and the whole place looks pretty sketchy. What with the ample catwalks and huge bubbling vats full of... pickles? Why would pickles be in florescent green glowing vats of fluid? In the distance of the factory, the flickering light of old fashioned computer monitors illuminates a large stack of crates. In fact, there are TONS of crates in here, looming like boxy canyon walls giving way to actual canyon walls of red sandstone with a starry night-sky above.

Okay.

Yeah.

This guy is almost without question dreaming.

[Deathkeeper]

Black Forest

The traveler tugs on the man's sleeve, shaking their head. This doesn't seem right!
Or does it?
When you don't have an identity whether or not you have a good memory is ambiguous.

[Shadowcaller]

[Galleon Rock]

"But you've already helped!" the totally normal lamb replies as the woman finally figures out how to apply clothing. "But if you don't want to help anymore, I won't continue making sweaters? with you. I shall find other things to learn about, farewell!"

...

They're gone.

Not like POOF!

Or flash of light.

Or... anything, really.

Just gone.

Not like, gone from reality. More like just suddenly somewhere else. But at least that means Jace and Anika don't have to endure it being odd at them anymore? Though someone else likely does. Maybe letting that thing run off on its own wasn't the best idea?

Regardless!

If our heroes search the main chamber they'll find a large pirate-y looking treasure chest in an alcove behind a tapestry. The top is open, and it is clearly full of loots! Glorious, glorious loots. Aside from the assorted gems, coins, paper bills, strings of shells, and completely immaterial electronic currency, there are several objects of power. A small torc made of bone, a wand made of some strange black stone that oozes thick green slime, an orb sparkling as with starlight, and a left handed leather glove/bracer with an azure stone set in the palm.

Our heroes will get the distinct impression that they should only take ONE of the magical objects each.

[Galleon Rock]

Jace and Zebes exchange a glance with Anika at the same time, and decide to not even comment on what transpired.
Far Things are very odd.

After stuffing their bottomless bag with their half of the monetary spoils, Jace and Zebes bicker silently for a few minutes (Anika can probably tell, due to them both still gesticulating and moving their heads as they converse).
Eventually Jace settles on the orb, because worst case scenario he can hang it in Khannie's room as a nice nightlight.

[Galleon Rock]

"Wait, so what just happened there? You you seemed more familiar with it than I." Anika asks, half-expecting the two to start rolling dice for the loot. That's what they always did back home. "Am I supposed to be concerned here?"

[Rebonack]

[Galleon Rock]

Jace has found some bottled night-terror! Releasing the oneiric mist will cause it to surge around a nearby creature the user finds distasteful and will lock them into a state of sleep paralysis wherein they'll find themselves assault by phantasmal horrors! Wow, isn't that just swell? Probably not the best night-light, in that case. Jace probably picked the least friendly object in the treasure heap.

Also!

Anika is met with no explanation what so ever for the nonsense that just took place. Gotta go with the flow, Anika.

Black Forest

"It's too late!" that guy proclaims as he gestures broadly toward the threshold. "A path is already chosen and we must commit to it!"

And with that said, he'll head though the open refrigerator despite the fact that going into refrigerators is very dangerous!

Well.

Now the traveler is met with a choice.

She can follow, or she can forge her own path. Best make a choice quickly, though. The trail behind her is steadily being overcome with darkness and thorny, creeping brambles. Two ways forward. No way back.

[Deathkeeper]

[Galleon Rock]

"You should be concerned, but there's nothing to do. It finally got the hint and left. Take your half and we can burn this place to the ground. Nothing should remain of this monstrosity." Jace says flatly. He looks in distaste at the orb as he tries to identify it. He'd put it back and get something new but that probably isn't allowed.
But why would he think the pretty thing would be worse than green slime?

[Black Forest]

Without a word, as always, the person hurries after the strange man. She isn't really sure what's going on, but she's not about to abandon this hapless guy, nor will she brave goblin-infested woods alone.

[Rebonack]

[Black... forest?]

The traveler hurries into the open refrigerator, which of course swings shut behind them. See! This is why you don't go into refrigerators! You'll get stuck inside! Should they turn back at the dull thump behind them, they'll find all traces of the forest gone. Instead, there's a large inspirational poster hanging on a dilapidated looking wall next to some steel shelving depicting the forest they were just in. At least, if a picture of a grotesque goblin squatting on a log holding a sickle with the caption, 'You too can be murdered by redcaps!' could be considered inspirational. There's a large filing cabinet next to the poster, along with a small table covered in various objects. And a water cooler.

Flickering lights appear to be the rule of the day here, illuminating the factory in an eerie half-light that occasionally plunges into nearly absolute blackness, objects framed in the ghostly green glow of the pickle vats. The dangling lights don't appear to be attached to anything, simply hanging at the end of vine-like cords from nothing at all. The persistent buzz and occasional sputter of unnatural electric lighting is the only sound to break the stillness. Stacked wooden creates appear to form the outer walls of the factory, with row upon row of steel shelves heavily laden with pickle jars and giant churning vats break up the interior. The harsh glow of computer monitor screens can still be seen in the distant gloom. There are gaps between the creates... and there's something beyond them. But those gaps appear to be stuffed full of dusty old wire bird cages. Steel platforms lead up to the higher portions of the factory, but said platforms are slowly drifting up and down suspended by nothing more than spinning green turret lights. It would probably take some careful leaps to traverse them.

That guy is nowhere to be seen.

But... he couldn't have gotten far, could he?

The traveler is met with many courses of scrutiny here. What will they investigate?

[Deathkeeper]

[Pickle Factory]

Our person is curious about the cages, as they are something you'd hold things in, but they're all dusty and probably heavy.
Instead, they go to the computer. Maybe there's something on the monitor that can help them?

[Rebonack]

[Pickle Factory]

The wire cages vary in sizes. Some small. Others quite large. But they're all made of relatively sturdy wire, the sort one might expect a parrot or canary cage to made of. They could probably be pulled free, with a little effort.

But they find themselves being disregarded as the traveler moves toward the distant computer station. As they moves cautiously past the towering shelves of pickle jars, she'll find that the the scent of brine and dill almost overpowers her. It's a bubbly sort of smell, filling her mind with with fizzling bubbles and a sharp taste. She-

Wait.

She?

Her?

Where did that come from? Was she a she before? Something's different. What happened?

As these thoughts fill her mind, she may here an odd scrambling noise. Should she glance up, she'll see the end of some large creature's tail vanish over the top of the shelves, followed by the tell-tale clumnk clumnk of feet on a steel catwalk. Someone's moving around above her? In the distance, the computer scree flickers again. Somehow, even from so far away, she'll be able to spy what appears almost like an oversized holographic projection. However, the words are impossibly garbled. If there are even words at all.

[Deathkeeper]

[Pickle Factory]

The traveler grabs one of the jars of pickles. They look at the tail with an odd look. But then they run towards the computer, holding the jar. It's something to bash a monster with, if nothing else. But she doubts the pickles are the identities she's looking for. Which means it's time to sprint for the computer.

[Rebonack]

[Pickle Factory]

The traveler now has a jar of dill pickles. She'll simply know it contains dill pickles, since the label doesn't really say anything. It's a mess of.. well... Blankness. Looking at it gives the distinct impression that it says something about dill pickles, but the words themselves are fleeting. Or perhaps in her mind only. It doesn't take very long to reach the computer now, and like the pickle jar the screen is nonsense. Or a lack of nonsense. Or maybe only actually filled with information when she's looking at it. 'Reading' in dreams is really weird.

Regardless, she'll get the general idea that the screen says something along the lines of:

HACKING IN PROGRESS!

There's also a video feed of someone being hacked, causing them to slowly lose all distinction and identity as a person.

Though the traveler had best not watch too closely.

That's an easy way to get yanked into a new scene within a dream, and that might result in some very real problems for her. Thankfully, before she can find herself becoming lost in the video, she'll find herself confronted by a mime!

Pretty normal looking mime, really.

Black leotard, tights, white gloves, white face paint, and one of those tall furry stereotypical Russian hats with a red star on it. The hat may, in fact, be a racoon sitting on the mime's head rather than an actual hat. It's hard to tell. Regardless of the true nature of his headgear, the mime begins mining at the traveler! Specifically miming... umm... Hacking...?

But her personal information has already been hacked! What could the mime possibly steal from them?

Oh. That.

A cucumber manifests in the mime's gloved hands as he turns and begins prancing off in an over-acted sort of way toward one of the pickle vats, leaving the traveler even less defined than they were a few moments ago.

"Hey, what's the big idea barging in here?" the mime's hat demands angrily, hovering in mid-air where the mime was previously standing. It quickly zips over atop the computer monitor, which now displays a cartoony mime-face taking up the whole screen. It keeps making weird expressions at the traveler. "We're already done with you. Go get eaten by goblins or something, you may as well be dead already. So just go die alre-GAH!"

"Tactical surprise glomp!" crows that guy, as he tackles the hat from above, sending them both rolling across the floor while the monitor topples over and shatters, spilling brightly colored saltwater taffy all over the place. The guy looks less like a guy and more like a large... bat wyvern person thing...? Though in retrospect maybe he looked like that the whole time and it just wasn't quite so obvious before. The hat, though, is pretty obviously a bear. That's also a raccoon. With a large sloshing plastic tub full of water under one arm.

A wash bear.

That guy manages to get his feet under the bear and hurl it away, causing it to collide heavily with the retreating mime.

"We've got to get your identity back!" the guy tells the traveler, pointing at the pair of villains with his tail-spade.

[Deathkeeper]

[Pickle Factory]

The traveler punches the screen angrily, and then nods to the weird fuzzy dinosaur person. He's kind of cute isn't he? Maybe it's the bat ears.

They would tell him that he shouldn't have thrown one of them away if he wanted them to get their identity back, but there's no time. They have to team up with this person and give chase to the villains. Possibly with the pickle jar for bashing.

But if their identity was put into a cucumber and thrown into a vat, that means that it was probably mixed up with all the other victims'! It probably won't ever be the same as what it was before.
Whatever it was before. They'll have to work that out later. Mimes to punch now. Or in this case, running up to the two before they can get up and kick them a few times.

[Rebonack]

[Pickle Factory]

The traveler kicks the mime several times! He doesn't cry out in pain, since he's a mime and mimes don't make any noise. This does, however, cause him to loose his grip on that pickle. With a rumbling growl, the wash bear rises to his feet and hauls back his bathtub to clobber the poor traveler, only for the water weapon to come crashing down on an imaginary pole sticking out of the floor. The object is only tentative there, appearing as little more than a fractured, glassy distortion in the shape of what it's supposed to represent, but that's enough to prevent the traveler from being subjected to anything worse than getting slightly damp.

That guy tackles the bear again, sending them both careening across the room, claws flashing and fur flying! "Friggin' dream bears! It's always dream bears!" the guy snarls. "Thought you could get the drop on me, huh? I'll show you!"

That just leaves the traveler, the mime clutching his guy, and a cucumber rolling across the floor toward an iron grate on the floor with slats that are WAY too wide.

Oh no!

What will the traveler do?

Clobber the mime again? Throw the jar at him? Dive for the fallen cucumber before it's lost forever?

Quick, make a choice!

[Deathkeeper]

[Pickle Factory]

The lost cucumber only represents something the traveler only recently had. The original identity they had has everything they need.
Right?
The traveler tries to whack the mime with the jar, before setting it down so they can shake him by the collar. Pointing at themselves, then the mime, and then the giant pile of pickle jars.
The mime has to know which is theirs. It has to!

[Rebonack]

[Pickle Factory]

The pickle jar shatters when it strikes the mime, covering it in smelly pickle juice and pickles!

But then there aren't any pickles.

Or any juice.

Or a mime.

Instead there's an elf rapidly jittering between the features of dozens of people, bits of personality and appearance bubbling to the surface before vanishing. And no, we're not talking fantasy elves here. Elfs. As in the pretty human-like fae as opposed to the grotesque human-like fae. But it doesn't look quite so pretty tiwtching around like that as it slowly rises into the air before exploding in a brilliant flash of starlight and gossamer. Apparently assuming so many mortal identities at once didn't agree with them.

The computer monitor, now laying on its side, displays the idea of a new message. Hacking failed. What would you like to do?
1) Hack
2) Pickle cucumbers
3) Search inventory
4) Play global thermonuclear war

That guy, meanwhile, has managed to get the dream bear in a headlock. The beast is flailing around fruitlessly in an attempt to escape. In a single deft motion, the guy thwacks the bear with his tail, before flopping the perfectly harmless bearskin rug onto the ground in front of a roaring fireplace. "There, probable solved. I really do need to try being direct more often with these bears,maybe they'll finally wise up and leave me alone."

[Deathkeeper]

[Pickle Factory]

The person shakes their head in frustration. They press 3, and try to look for any inventory that was made today.
That's it. They don't have anything else to go off of. They motion for the strange dinosaur to help, but they don't know if he can.

[Rebonack]

[Not a Pickle Factory]

There's a momentary jitter in the traveler's peripheral vision as they focus on the screen, and if they look up they'll realize that they standing in the middle of a large forest glade. Scattered around are dozens, if not hundreds of gauzy white cages containing lights not terribly unlike fire flies, each stacked atop each other in shelves that look rather akin to honeycomb. In the center of the glade is a large, rune-carved standing stone table with a human-shaped imprint in it. Two fae lay slain in the glade. An elf with skin that glitters like diamonds, though their face is nothing but a black, sooty pockmark that's still smouldering. And a bugbear stripped like a honey bee, or perhaps a racoon, that has been impaled through the heart, mist like the night sky now pouring from its empty eye sockets.

That guy, the strange beast that he is, suddenly seems quite a bit more alert than he was previously, now sporting several gashes from the bugbear's claws. "Oh, right. Dreaming. Okay, what's the damage this time?" he mutters as he examines one of the waxy shelves with icy blue eyes. He sniffs a few times at the gossamer jars with that batty-lizardy nose. "Oh geeze... they've been stealing faces..."

Faces?

Identities.

"So... that means..." he glances back at the traveler. "They took your face, too? And your voice? I guess you wouldn't even know where to start looking, would you?"

The monitor is now a book sitting atop a stone pedestal. It's full of names and descriptions of people who were stolen tonight. That guy peers over the traveler's shoulder. "Do you remember anything?" he asks, an edge of pity creeping into his voice.