Hydra

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Journal @Inksome

Journal @IJ

Surgeon Cry Wolf (from early inksome days) (link)

Hydra - The Many Serpents - Lime - From the swamplands of the north, the warriors are shifty eyed and of ill temperament. Quick to anger, and seem only loyal to themselves. They are fierce but not to be cornered or dealt with lightly.

Weaver Memories (link)

1

[You circle your apprentice slowly, staff tapping on the flagstone floor. Daft child had fallen asleep again in front of the pot he was to watch. Right where you'd left him, right down to the same pose, slumped at the table and chin cupped in his cheek, except now he was drooling a bit, like an elderly house-currwis.

You consider, rubbing out your arthritic knuckles, what to do with the child. The teen seemed to spend half the time flitting after a pretty face or reciting some lofty ideal that only the young or daft believed in. And the rest... You sigh, you knew you shouldn't have taken on this bright eyed thing, no matter how much potential he seemed to have, or how bright his chatter was.

The mixture was well and soured far past any use. The Queen's Fingers was a delicate but deadly plant, the wrong heat on it would destroy the medicinal properties of it and reduce it to little but poison at best, a gooey, foul-smelling mess at worst... A quick, professional glance tells you it would boil over in a few minutes... No. With a wry smile, you correct yourself: It WILL boil over in a few moments.

You turn, staff steadying your gait as you make your way for the door. If words were no use, another day wading through the sludge and fending off insects to replace your stock might beat some life skills into the brat.]

2

[You turn away, feeling a little queasy as the [badgercroc] eats the third marwok of the day. It's terrified squeals are cut short rather quickly and efficiently, and now, you wait, on the reinforced fence, for the sound of crunching to finish.

"Now, you think?" You ask idly. Still not looking back. The old sheerer gives you a crooked grin, watching what had to be a macabre display behind you, completely unphased. He hands you a spare set of shears.

"Yep. Let it get hungry again, you ain't gonna get a winter coat. Or need one no more."]

New Uniform Description

Concept: Practical construction wear

Top piece: T-shirts (m), tank tops (f)

Bottom piece: One-piece utility jump suits

Outer piece: Trench coats

Accessory: Bandannas

Footwear: Swamp boots, socks

[There is the gentle sound of a shuttle moving through taut thread, and as the memory settles deep, your eyes open to the familiar garments of your kin on both yourself and those around you, dyed proud and bright.

Rough and practical, clothes like these don't take shit from anything or anyone. Not you, not each other, and not that four feet of swamp mud it's gone through and come out the other side, still dry. Both genders get a one-piece jump suit made from a blend of oiled cort and spider-silk. It's tough enough to endure damn near anything, woven tight enough to turn water, and when that fails at least it'll still keep you warm. Along the bottom, it tucks into a set of waterproofed, leather workboots. Pockets with mushwood buttoned flaps are placed at the sides of the suit's legs, with slightly deeper pockets at the waist. The rest of the suit is fitted with matching wooden buttons that close up the top half. The men have a plain, sleeved shirt underneath in an appropriate shade of green, while the women's version is sleeveless. Dark, heavy coats with long tails and a set of matching (if plain) bandannas round out the outfit.]

Surgeon Game (Hydracula)

Crossroad

[You are at a crossroad.. to your right you see a swamp stretching out and to your left you see the vast expanse of the plains.

Which way do you go?]

The Plains

[The only way to possibly sum up the scene in front of your eyes is “majestically expansive.” The night sky is bright with a myriad of stars and two moons are in the sky, a small red one at a crescent, but the silvery blue moon is full and low in the northern sky and casts its sheen across gently blowing grasses around you. Even your teammates around you are silver dipped and shadowed in blues. As far as you can see is waving high grasses, broken by the occasional jutting rock or windswept tree.

There is a faint trail you have been walking leading you southwards, but to the east, there is an odd flickering glow, almost a jarringly orange hue behind a distant rock formation.]

[As you continue south, you feel a little dizzy and clouded. You aren’t quite sure what you have in your package anymore.]

[The glow.... seems to follow you, dogging your progress. It doesn’t seem to be stable... appearing here, or there, but always, always reappearing to the east, and lighting the way in orange.

Further south, you see the fires and canvas and skin stretched buildings in the distance. One of the nomadic tribes taking shelter under a massive table-like rock formation.]

Riddle

[Just before you can enter the light of the encampment, you hear a clucking noise, and it as if you are moving through heavy fog. You don’t know which way you are going, what is right or left, up or down. Everything seems a strange swirl of orange.]

"Well well, if you wont play tag, do me a favor, dears. I want just one litttle game.... A simple guessing game... if you guess it, you can go ahead, and why, I’ll be so pleased, I’ll give you a gift... If you lose... well! We’ll be playing a little longer, wont we?"

[The voice is rich, cultured and slides mercurially from disappointed to amused.

Even though only Shigure went ahead... everyone finds themselves engulfed in it.]

[What is colorless,

Has neither taste nor smell?

May be found in the eyes

Or the toll of a bell?

Kills, revives, sustains,

A cause to laugh or weep?

What the gods covet

But only man may keep?]

((Answer: Faith))

"... Really? What a bore."

[You see for a vague instant, a gentleman in a tophat and a cane, his smile his sharp and eyes keen... but he bows and as he steps aside, the orange fog vanishes...leaving you amidst a confused group of nomads.]

[You think, for a moment you spot a familiar face and a laugh, before the person ducks back into the crowd.]

"They're all right, boss."

Game End

Surgeon Game Hydra Side Full Write-up (gdoc here)

Swamp

[As you walk into the swamp, it becomes harder and harder to find dry ground to step in. A dense fog has begun to creep into the area, blending the murky blues, greens and browns of the area together. The sun has long set, and a waxing red moon casts a ruddy tone on the moisture swirling around your feet. Murky water stretches out beyond you, and trees seem to have bent over themselves like old men. Plants are twisted and thorned in this area and clump together in dense patches in the watery ground.

Small hummocks of the brownish grass peak out of brackish water giving some fragile promise of a way across the waters for the brave or sure footed to the east. Distantly in that direction, you see a faint pinprick of orange, flickering light, waving on the far side of the swamp waters.

The muddy footpath you’ve been following continues to the north. Any number of animal tracks also litter the path, oddly enough with no straying towards the waters. Some tracks are easily larger than your own.]

Decision point one

East-

[The water is thick and murky though to some relief, the fog seems to have lightened. You can pick your path fairly well and for some wonder with some careful planning. The landing points are slick and muddy. ... It might be your imagination but every now and then you seem to see something move under the surface of the water. A few hummocks to the left, you spot something in the mire but can’t make out anything from here.]

[You hear a light airy laugh just to the front of you. In the distance, you see a lantern bobbing in a pattern]

[From here, it seems you can continue forward to examine the light, or go back.]

Examine thing in the mire

----- [The footing is too treacherous for more than one person to navigate at a time. Who will go?]

Good balance

----- [It’s a tricky, acrobatic affair, getting that far, but with only a few comedic slips you make it.]

Bad balance

----- [You only get a few hops before you slip, windmilling, and thankfully only falling on your rear on a hummock rather than in the waters.]

----- [You can’t tell if they are eels or snakes, but as you disturb the form in the muck, a mass of black shapes squirm, agitated, before en mass, seem to slither off into the water and disappear. Their movement reveals the body of some traveller who has been almost stripped of all meat. The clothes hang, stained off of bone, cartilage and half-eaten muscle. Mercifully the smell of the waters themselves seems to mask the stench of death.

It appears to still have a faintly glowing dagger in hand, as well as a waterproofed supply pack.]

Will of the wisp

Follow -

[The laughter becomes more cheerful and you can make out young voices talking animatedly but cannot associate any language with it yet. As you walk forward, you feel your lift further, and the air seems to clear of its smell. You feel warm, and dare you say, almost dry?]

- Go to WW F

Back -

[As you trudge back into the swamp, you legs feel leaden, and your mind a little foggy. The package in your hands is heavy, and you’re ... not all that sure of whats in it anymore.]

North-

[The smell of the bog seems to finally be getting to you... you feel a little lightheaded, and it’s a little hard to keep your mind from wandering to a hot fire and warm food.]

[As you travel northwards, the ground below you seems no less firm, but there seems to be more of it to step on safely. It is a good thing as the fog seems to have thickened here, swirling in curling patterns around your boots.

The undergrowth is thicker here as well, as if soil has entreated the wilder plants to set in and take root. More than a few seems to curl in upon itself when you brush past it, and other seems to hiss and snap, catching only cloth or boots thankfully.

You see torchlight ahead and a shout of a watcher or guard. You may even wryly fancy the creak of a bowstring drawn, no doubtedly poison tipped. ... You are certainly close to the village.

However just to the left, along another solid branch of trail... you hear a piteous, young sob and someone thrashing in the waters...]

Examine the crying

[You step as close as you can without veering off the path. It’s hard to tell in the fog, but there is a small shape, flailing the in the mire. The choked sobbing stops when it spots you, and then becomes a wail.]

“You’re not m-my mom! D-don’t come near! I’LL HURT YOU!”

[The voice is young, scared and thick with emotion.]

Crying

Follow-

[The way forward seems to taper into swamp... you think that you might be able to press forward using the creepers and trees for handholds, but you’ll have to set your package down here.]

Village-

[You continue on, footfalls dragging and the mud seems to suck at your feet. You stop at the wooden, fortified gate of the walled village and hailed the guards.]

Decision point two

WW F

[You are nearly giddy by the time you get close enough to the light to see it... It is no latern, but a softly glowing blue orb. It darts out of reach of any attempts to touch it, but it seems to laugh and enjoy the attempt.

Three or four other lights join it, yellows, pinks, and greens light in a dance.]

“Traveller! Traveller! Play us a game! We’ll have a treat after!” [The voices are lilting and clear... that of children... but hold the strange echo of a spirit.]

[What will you do?]

CW F

[There’s a small child, clinging desperately to a gnarled tree... at this point, pulled half out of the water. By her stance, and her foot, reddened and lacerated... something is attempting to drag her into the murky waters. The coils of something great and serpentine breaks the water’s calm now and then...

How she’s lasted in this long is apparent... and somewhat admirable. The tiny, grimy girl has a sharp rock in her hand and anytime a coil gets near, she stabs it into the meat past its scales. The serpent then thrashes, wildly, while the girl clings to the branch, shaking as her caught foot is dragged again.]

“A-another devil! I’ll... I’ll kill you too! I’ll kill you both. D-don’t care how many devils r’out!”

[The child wails, waving the rock at you only to focus her attention immediately back on the coils.]

Village

[No window opens. No face appears. You merely hear a voice, muffled through the gate. Deep, tired and wary.]

Traveller, speak your names and purpose at this forsaken hour.

[The guard seems to grunt, and you hear voices confirming.]

It’s a blasted and bloody witching night. Take the devil’s test... prove you’re a human, and you can make your way in.

[Riddle]

Boss

WW FF - [Suddenly you seem to realize that the ‘solid land’ you step on is ... water. As if that simple realization was enough to bore the child spirits, they abandon their game, and drop you into the mire. You fall to your chest in water... and to your horror realize that there is no purchase below your feet... and the water is thick and constricting..]

“Hahaha! We’ll have our treats now!”

“Candy!”

“Candy!”

[Every movement seems to sink you deeper.]

CC FF - [Just as you get close to the child, she seems to shiver violently.... and ... shed her skin in a grotesque display. The rock drops and tatters of a girls dress drifts to the ground as the tree snaps... What is left of the girl is a shrunken, withered form... a mummified child, seeming to be worn by the snake...

All around you, shapes rise... men, woman, gastly and half rotted, leathery skin clinging still.]

“Fool....”

“Fools!”

“I could use fresher skin, I could...”

“The magic works best with another skin.”

“We will take them... new skins will be so beautiful....”

[In unison... the puppets take up arms... and begin a shambling walk on top of the water towards you.]