rubyrubyruby

Ruby joins in step with Maggie and Merrisol as they compare sensory notes. "What you mean? There's ~nuthin~ out 'ere, promise." She reaches up and rubs at the swelling at the center of her forehead where impact happened. "It all just be green an green an sometoimes poisonous things out 'ere. This more impenetrable than a member 'o tha church 'o tha Unicorn. An you can call me Rosie if it isn't so."
( Read More )

The usual lush unbroken coastline of Cibola has been interrupted by the aftermath of the recent battle of its shadow path. Derelict ships that could not reach the Port of Antukt City are at anchor or have run aground. Over a month ago, one such vessel had beached itself spectacularly in sight of the Port but far enough away to be within the domain of the jungle rather than civilization. The ship is fully out of the water after making a significant furrow and jammed up into the treeline. Its hull, rigging and sails create a backdrop, like some sort of theatre stage backing, against the dark forbidding Cibolan jungle. Perhaps a ghoulish nautical sight for shipwrights. A number of more recent longboats and skiffs are pulled up onto the beach after having disgorged some Pathfinders that required ferrying to this location. Torches have been lit and thrust into the moist sands, lanterns hung from the ship. And snakes. The rigging is snek town, tongue-flick county. Ssssso many sssnek. The side of the hull has a piece of canvas hung from it. Something is cooking on a spit nearby that has many vertebrae. And there's a barrel of spirits nearby to disinfect the palette. There's a faint breeze to carry the scent of the food and the heat of the day along the coast. The sounds from deeper within the jungle promise interesting times for the unwary.
( Read More )