[Last time, on El WHAT?!: Sophie was the one who decided to take a walk in the woods this time. Is she suicidal? WE'll never know, since her little jaunt turned out quite a bit better than Nick's, though it was quite a bit stranger. Nonviolent elves? NEVAR!] [Now, our heroes are still on the road to The Gap. They are also in the middle of a forest that was beyond bowshot last time they checked. How the forest managed to sneak up on them, they have no idea, but perhaps they'll be lucky enough to find out.] [We open on the camp, which is now nearly vacant due to the untimely disappearance of over half the group. Sophie, Harold, and Nick are left with two horses and the massive barbarian of a horse that pretends to be Sophie's mount.] [Session... START!] * Harold is mounted, since the horses are free, his things from the previous night neatly packed up. * Sophie mounts up. "Well, let's be on our way." I wish I knew what made the others disappear like this... Nick, are you going to be alright? * Nick half-staggers, half-flops onto his horse. "Nngh." Everyone ready? Quite As we'll ever be. I hope we see the others soon. * Sophie gets the oddest feeling she's being watched. * Sophie glances from side to side. "Hmm... I feel like I'm being watched." * There appear to be no watchers. DId you expect anything less? Could it be nerves? Perhaps. God knows I've been under quite a lot of stress recently. Can't be easy keeping up that air of superiority.. Can we go now? Actually, Nick, you tend to make it pretty easy. Please, honey, not in front of the kids. Very well, I'll wait until you're not around. * Harold just starts his horse off down the path. "He's got a point. Let's get moving." * Nick flicks Stu's reins. "Yeah, because you're so mature." * Sophie starts Thundar towards the city. "Glad you agree." * Nick groans. "Almost there.." * And so the ride begins through the woods. There is, unfortunately, neither river nor grandma's house, but for once, the ride is peaceful and quiet for hours on end. It's almost relaxing. * Sophie trots Thundar along. She doesn't look very relaxed. Occasionally she glances back now and then. * Harold seems a little bit zoned out, lost in his own thoughts perhaps more than he should be. * The path continues around a bend, and the woods are now hugging the road so tightly that you can't see the rest of the road around the curve. * Nick is slumped over Stu, trying not to bleed. * Sophie idly grips her sword. * Luckily for Nick, while Stu is not the best horse ever, he's ceratinly not the worst, and his jarring has been minimal. * A moment later, another reason why Sophie could not see the rest of the road becomes evident. IT's simply not there. * Sophie frowns. She draws her sword and rears Thundar around. "What is this? Another illusion?" Mm? * The road behind is still there, quite clearly. -- eh? Sophie, is that feeling still bothering you? Quite. Not that I'm particularly surprised by it, what with some uncouth brigands having followed us ever since we left Crossroads. True enough... * Nick sits up straight. "..So, we have no road." Indeed. I'd ask if perhaps we took a wrong turn, but there were no branching paths. No-- ... yes, we don't see to have a road. Something must be wrong here. But I can't imagine there would be no road between two such well-travelled places. Something is obviously amiss. ... well, it's not an illusion. I don't know what it is, though.... Hmm... Perhaps we should seek an alternate route. I do not like the looks of this. Where else could we go with the horses, though? * Sophie sighs. "I'm not sure." ... actually, I wonder if that's the point of this. To herd us into the forest, where the horses don't give us an advantage, and where we can get lost... But the road didn't branch before. * An ancient... being steps out from between two trees that stand where the road should be going. He's dressed in long, coarse robes of dark green, and his black hair reaches nearly to his feet, even as wildly tangled as it is. The oddest feature, though, aside from leathery skin heavily wrinkled so that it rather resembles a pug, is his enormous ears. They must once have been pointed, but the tips have grown so long that the ears have fallen. * Harold turns and stares. * The horses, even the mildly agressive Thundar, seem to be completely unconcerned with the thing's presence. * Sophie blinks. "I say..." ..What in the unholy monkey hell is that? Mind your manners, Nick. * The strange elf-puppy-monkey thing mumbles incoherently. * Sophie gives it a confused look. Then she looks back at the others. "Be on your guard. The trees are moving." * The branches all around you rustle uncomfortably. * Nick hauls out his light crossbow. * Harold pulls out his crossbow, as well. "Who are you?" * The elf-puppy-monkey thing mumbles incoherently again. * Harold blinks hard. Something odd just happened to him, obviously.... Are you going to attack us? * The thing tilts its head, shifting its features in a way that reminds you of a puppy with too much skin. * It mumbles again. Do you understand what it's saying? Because all I'm hearing is gibberish. I thought I understood a little of it... What did it say? * The thing shambles slowly forward, and the trees seem to crowd in around you, becoming too close for riding. It mumbles incoherently again. ... he says that if we fail, it was not "fall to him" to destroy us. Fail at what?! * Nick looks around nervously. What? What in blazes is that supposed to mean? ... he wants us to get off the horses. I don't know! He isn't hostile, but... Bloody hell. * Harold takes a deep breath, and then begins to dismount very slowly and carefully. * Nick tries to dismount slowly but ends up kind of falling off. Sophie, let's play along. * Sophie dismounts reluctantly. "I hope you know what you're doing, Harold." So do I. What now... sir? * The thing raises one hand and holds it, palm outwards, towards the three. Whatever happens, I just hope we don't need to walk too far. * Sophie slowly raises her own hand, palm outwards. * Harold ... does as Sophie does. * Nick raises his free hand, likewise with the palm outward. * The thing reverses his hand, turning it into a gentle beckoning motion. He turns and shuffles off between two trees as he mumbles. * Nick lowers his hand and limps after it. * Sophie follows after. It's a test. We should follow him. I gathered that. * Sophie, Nick, and Harold run into trees. Trees that were not there a moment before. * Nick stumbles backwards, dazed. "Now this! Wal must not like me today.." * Harold exclaims in pain and staggers back, rubbing his face. "... nngh!" * THe edge of where the road used to run is now thickly wooded, so thickly that it seems impossible to squeeze between them. I guess we're supposed to find another way through? * The old thing's mumbling still comes clearly to your ears, and it seems to you that you can understand it, even though your ears tell you that it's nonsense. ... would-be _elves_? * Nick mutters uncomplimentary things involving elves and walks very slowly up to the trees. * The trees do not let Nick pass. * Harold stands still and closes his eyes, hoping his spirit will do something interesting and useful on its own. * Nick closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and tries to walk forward again. * The trees open up and allow Nick past. * Sophie rubs her head. * Harold starts moving forward, cautiously. He keeps his eyes closed to make sure his spirit doesn't flake out on him. * The trees open up and allow Harold to pass. * Sophie does the same. If it works for them... * Sophie bruises her cute little nose on a tree. Ow! Man, all that Zen stuff from old kung-fu movies pays off.. * The mumbling drifts back on the wind. * Sophie rubs her head again, and this time walks forwards with her eyes closed with the intent of following her own spirit. * Sophie runs into another tree. The old man's somewhat amused muttering floats back. * Sophie snaps her eyes open. "Bloody hell! You want my spirit to guide me? Fine! My spirit is telling me I don't have time for your petty games, old man, or dog thing, or whatever the hell you are!" * The trees wither from the sheer force of Sophie's anger. * Sophie takes a deep breath. "Honestly." * Where the trees have withered away, there is a clear path out of the clearing. * Sophie takes it! Pass or fail, she's just happy to be moving again. * Sophie catches up with Nick and Harold as if she hadn't taken any more time than they did. * The old thing continues through the trees for several minutes, and then stops at the edge of what appears from a distance to be a clearing. * Sophie catches up! "Alright, what else do we have to do before we can continue?" * The "clearing" proves to be, in fact, the edge of a sheer cliff, and Sophie very nearly steps off the edge. * The old thing looks down at where the forest continues, far, FAR below. * Sophie eeps and stops. * Nick stops, opening his eyes. "..." The old thing looks down aaaaaall the way to the bottom of the cliff, then mumbles, * The old man disappears. ... well. * Nick takes a few steps forward, looking down. * It's a long way down. Long enough that just looking down gives you a bad case of vertigo. Whoo. ... well, I somehow doubt any of us brought enough rope for this. * Sophie shakes her head. * Sophie looks left and right along the cliff face for a path down. * There is no apparent path down the cliff. * Nick crouches at the edge of the cliff and looks for handholds. * For an able climber, there are enough handholds, but it's a long way down to try to free climb. It would be a serious test of endurance. I imagine this is one of those "leap of faith" scenarios. ... or, it isn't, and doing something like that will get you killed. My thoughts exactly. Hm. Okay, either we jump or we climb down. Well, I don't know how to climb that well. I'd end up falling anyway.... * Harold closes his eyes, clearly preparing for a running start. "... either way, I guess I'm going to see you at the bottom!" Harold, are you insane? * Nick shrugs and springs out of his crouch, leaping off the edge. I hope not! Laaaaaaaaaaater! * Harold runs forward and flings himself off the edge, mentally running through every prayer he can think of that's even vaguely appropriate to the situation. Bloody hell! * Nick vanishes into the foliage at the bottom, followed quickly by Harold. * What happens to them, Sophie could not say. * Sophie ... uh, doesn't try to stop Harold >.> * Sophie is left all alone on top of the cliff. * Sophie ponders just waiting and letting a path appear from nothing. * A path fails to reveal itself. * Sophie sighs, closes her eyes, and walks off the cliff. Maybe there's invisible stairs. * Sophie opens her eyes a moment later to find herself in a clearing, with a small path formed between two withered trees. Behind her, two horses graze placidly as a third, larger horse watches over them. * Sophie blinks and looks around. "Harold? Nick?" * Harold and Nick are very much not in evidence. * Sophie walks up to the horses instead. They probably blinked out of existance again. * Thundar welcomes Sophie back in his own special way. * Sophie pats Thundar, giving him a warm smile. "Looks like it's just us for now." She goes about preparing the other horses so that she can bring them with her. * The withered path still beckons, as does the road that you came here on. * Amused muttering fills the air around Sophie. * Sophie looks around glaringly. "Yeah? Seems to me as though you just don't like the way my spirit is trying to do this guiding!" * A dry chuckle fills the air. It sounds hideous, like two pieces of coarse sandpaper grating on each other. Oh? Must be awfully hard for merchants to trade between their cities if you deliver this test to everyone who takes this road. No, I think you're the one who's impeding me. * The chuckle dissipates, and is replaced by still more amused muttering. Okay, then. Who am I? * A slight rumble, as of distant thunder, as the muttering continues. I'm Sophie Asher of the Liverpool Ashers. I'm me. * One last, final sounding mutter, then the forest goes quiet. * It seems almost as if the trees are waiting. Bloody hell! I'm standing right here! Don't tell me you can't bloody well see me. * Sophie sighs and gives Thundar another comforting pat. "You'll have to excuse me. Bloody Confucious wannabe isn't satisfied unless he gets some lofty answer. Take care of the others." She heads towards the path between the trees. * The path welcomes Sophie once again with all its ugly wiltiness. * Just a moment later, it seems, Sophie is once more at the cliff's edge. * Sophie looks for a path. Yes, a second time. * No path is apparent to Sophie. Just enough handholds that a skilled climber could make it down... if he had the endurance. * Sophie is certainly going to try. She sheathes her sword and does that. * Sophie begins the long, long climb down to the bottom. SHe starts quite well, in fact, scampering down the cliff like an expert climber, in spite of her lack of experience. * The climb continues, another fifty feet down, and Sophie is still going strong. The rocks seem almost to be placed exactly right for her. * Almost halfway now, and Sophie is only now beginning to break a sweat. It's incredible, folks, what a determined and angry young woman can do. * There seems to be no way this cliff can stop Sophie. The rocks are as solid as her will as she spiders her way straight down the cliff. * The Cinderella story had to end sometime, and just as Sophie passes the hundred foot mark, that time arrives. A major foothold that looked rock solid breaks off under her weight, and only lightning fast reflexes save her from what would probably be a fatal fall. Sophie is left dangling by one hand from a now unfriendly cliff. * As Sophie casts about for another handhold to resume her climb down, her single handhold shifts a little, then gives way. It's a long way down, Sophie. See you at the bottom. * Sophie falls all the way to the bottom, and makes a nasty crunching sound when she hits. Then she realizes that she's not dead as she opens her eyes and sees Harold and Nick looking down at her. * Sophie sits up with a start. * Sophie looks at her hands. "I'm alive?" -- you shouldn't be? * Nick has a few small scratches on his face. "..Yes." I fell a good hundred feet. No, I shouldn't be. * Sophie stands up. "But I'm certainly not going to argue with the outcome. * True to his words, the old thing is here at the bottom. He steps out of the forest and just watches you. * Harold seems entirely fine. * Sophie looks at the thing. "So? Now what?" * The thing smiles grotesquely, turns, and walks into the forest. * Sophie follows. "Thought so." * Nick plods after the monkey-puppy. * The forest does not forbid your passage this time. As you proceed through the woods, though, you gradually lose sense of Nick and Harold. They're gone. * Sophie calls out. "Harold? Nick?" * The thing mutters incoherently from ahead of you. Very well. What do you want of me now? * The thing chuckles again. * Sophie rubs her temples. "That getting my point across worked, and that I can't climb such a bloody large cliff. * The old thing looks somehow... unsatisfied. What, that isn't good enough for you? * The thing shakes its head slightly, setting its floppy skin to shaking. Sorry if I don't have the same mindset as Harold and Nick, that I can jump off a cliff and expect to live. Or are heroes supposed to be bloody stupid? It takes all kinds to make a hero, good sir. In regards to the first part? You were preventing us from reaching our destination -- and don't give me any of those cryptic 'it was you, not me' responses. I had a goal, I aimed to achieve it. The second? Well, I couldn't let Harold and Nimrod just jump off a cliff. What if they'd been wrong and gotten seriously hurt? I had to go after them. And thirdly, why should I want to be an elf? All they've ever done is tried to kill us. I'm the last person to be condoning Fadi's actions, but in the end it was their fault for letting their friend attack horses owned by the ranch. They did nothing to stop him. * Sophie holds out her palm. "And apparently I am a hero, whether either of us likes it or not, because this thing says so. But in my world, heroes are made, not born. A person's action makes him or her a hero, not some silly mark on the palm. * The thing's smile returns, even more ghastly than before. I'm me. That's it in a nutshell. My intent is to make sure we get home safely, one way or another. * The thing frowns, and somehow its frown is even worse than its smile. Bloody hell. Feels like a blind date. Alright. I'm Sophie Asher. I grew up in Liverpool, England, but was living in America with my elder sister Chloe until I was brought here, for whatever reason. I should like to say I am quite skilled with a sword, what with fencing having been one of my most prominent activities back at home. I am also rather good with horses. One in particular seems to have taken a liking to me. He is a strong and trustworthy steed that I am proud to ride. I came here with several others around my age. I've made friends with some, others I wish to strangle. One in particular I do not trust in the least. I'm quite tempted to turn him into the authorities. We all have these marks on our palms, which apparently designate us as great heroes. None of us had any say in the matter. I personally don't care one way or the other, as long as I can make sure we get home safely and everything turns out for the best. I don't condone the act of violence, but if necessary I am willing to employ it. It's far more preferable to settle matters maturely, however. ... Is this what you want? Would you like to know my favorite foods, too? * The thing keeps frowning all through this recital. If you must know, I'm angry that you believe you have a right to stop us and test us, when we could be making more progress. I gave you my name. Sophie Asher! Please remember it this time. * The thing's eyes grow cold and hard, and it mutters darkly, Experiences. * The thing's eyes glitter, at least, you THINK that's glitter. How about this test, for one? * The withered old thing waits expectantly. Do you want me to recite my life's story? What I've done makes me who I am. Emotions, personality, relationships... all of these things. And yes, trials too. Even this is an experience, although I certaily won't remember it as a pleasant one. * The thing shifts a little, and rumbles, then finally mutters, You talk in riddles. * Sophie sighs. "What I am is a determined woman who's getting increasingly frusterated by this world the longer I stay in it. But I never give up. Lord knows what would become of the others without my guidance. Someone has to keep them from blindly jumping off cliffs." So... That's me. I'm determined. * The ancient elf-puppy-monkey thing finally relaxes. He sits down with a thud, and once his features have rearranged themselves, he opens his mouth and lets forth a concept, not quite a word, nor quite a phrase. It is the voice of reason, and the determined force that keeps a person going long after she should have died, and the resolve to never leave another in need, no matter how badly they be hated. * The poor old thing closes its mouth and mutters, * The world goes black. * The world is no longer black, nor is it square. Our heroes are all lying back in camp, face down in their tents, feeling particularly sore, especially around the upper back area. * One by one, they begin to awaken. * Nick stands up slowly. "Man, this is worse than that time with the vodka bottle.." * Sophie moans and pulls herself to her feet. * Harold sits up, rubbing the back of his head and looking around in mild confusion. * Harold's back brushes against the top of his little puptent. He's subjected to a feeling more often associated with being covered in napalm. owowow! * Harold drops back down. * Nick gets to his knees and plops back down again. "..This just isn't my day." * Sophie looks herself over. "Was that a dream?" * Sophie twists around to look herself over and her upper back bursts into hot flaming PAIN. It feels like she's been flayed. * Sophie screams and drops and tries to get into some non-painful position. * Sophie finds that the most comfortable position is on her belly, with nothing at all touching her back. * Sophie lies there like that, then. Is anyone else feeling like they've got a really bad sunburn? * Sophie would answer, but her tent is probably too far away for her to make that out. * Sophie does, in fact, hear that. Her ears seem a bit oversensitive right now. * Sophie does, in that case, call back. "Yes, it's quite painful. I think I'll just be lying here for a while." It's not *that* bad.. The hell it isn't. * Harold pokes at his back with one hand, checking to see if he was somehow wounded. * It hurts, but Harold's hand comes away unbloodied. Nnn. Maybe we should just stay here until this subsides. I quite agree with that. Especially since it's too bloody painful to even try to move. Eh, okay. * It takes some hours, but eventually it doesn't hurt to move. Only to actually brush against things. It could be kinda awkward for poor Sophie, though, assuming she possesses all the modesty that Tiffany lacks. * Sophie deals with it, if it doesn't hurt too badly. * Nick is walking around shirtless and doesn't seem to mind. * Sophie staggers out of her tent, wearing her pants and boots, and a light shirt. "Hullo, Nick. You've got a tatoo on your back." ..Wait, what? * Nick pulls out his holy symbol, trying to use the mirror to get a good look. * It's somewhat difficult to do, given that you really should be using two mirrors to do that, but Nick manages partial glimpses of something furry tattooed on his back. ... Okay, your back burns too, right? * Sophie grimaces. "Very much so." Turn around, take off your shirt, and don't give me any modesty crap. Screw you, wank. Dammit, I just want to see if you have.. that thing on your back. You don't have the personality for me to be interested. I bet. Augh.. Harold, where are you? I'm over here! What is it? * Harold pokes his head out of his tent, looking irritated. Come over here. * Harold staggers over, trying not to think too much about his back. Turn around and take off your shirt. ... * Harold isn't even going to ask. He just does it and assumes Nick has some vaguely good reason for it. I didn't know you swung that way, Nick. Shut it. * Harold has a lovely tattoo of a heavily armored shining knight mounted on a massive horse taking up pretty much his entire back. ..Would your parents care if you had a huge back-spanning tattoo, Harold? ... YES. What the flaming hell! I got a _tattoo_?! Looks like it. Big old knight on a horse. Quite. A lovely one too, if I might add. I've got a.. * Nick turns around. "I dunno, something brown and furry." A monkey. It's very fitting. * Harold puts his shirt back on, grumbling. His major reaction at the moment seems to be total indignance. And Sophie probably has one, but she won't show me because she's a prude. * Nick mutters something about size and tissue paper before heading back to his tent. * Sophie smirks to herself in satisfaction. I'm going to go get some sleep. Nngh. Likewise. G'night. * Harold stomps back to his tent, grumbling. He hates having to sleep on his stomach... * Sophie sighs and stays up. Someone's got to keep watch. * Nick doesn't seem to care, heading off to sleep. [Session... END!]