NationStates Jolt Archive


Exodus

04-02-2004, 13:55
EXODUS

Exit Point – 08:00

Somewhere in the world, on a pleasant grassy hillock under the shade of a copse, a tiny point of white light winks into existence a metre above the ground and hovers there. The wind that was rustling the trees just moments ago rises to a brief roar as the point of light spins open, briefly eclipsing the view of the hillock in a brilliant white flash. There is a thud of something heavy hitting the ground and the light is sucked away, vanishing as quickly as it came and revealing a stumpy tracked robot which looks halfway between a bomb disposal robot and a Mars Lander. It trundles forward, camera sweeping the area and arms folding out to sample the ground. It has only travelled a few metres when it becomes evident it has problems, it lurches to one side as part of the left track comes loose and the one of the arms drops limply to the ground. Another metre of movement and the left track disintegrates entirely, forcing the robot to creep around in a pathetic circle as its manipulator arms drop off and the camera droops. With a final crunch the camera falls out of its housing and the robot collapses into a pile of debris, marring the picturesque grass of the hill with its scattered gun-metal appendages.

Entry Point – 08:03

Somewhere else, nowhere near as pleasant, a trio stands around a bank of ramshackle computer equipment and examine a screen showing an image which crackles and turns into snow. There is a low cursing from a couple of the figures.

"That could have gone a little better", hazards one of the figures. His voice is low and resonant, though there is the definite twang of an irrepressible optimist.

"What the hell happened?", asks another in a clipped voice that smacks of a military background. It also smacks of a great deal of suppressed panic.

"It is only to be expected", replies a third in the concise and detached voice of the eternal scientist, "it is merely the Dain’an Condition acting upon our more sophisticated technology. As I’m sure you are well aware, transit has a substantial detrimental effect on devices subjected to it, particularly the micromechanical systems present within the scout."

"Well," says the first voice again, "the scout lasted long enough to show us what we needed to see, an atmosphere capable of supporting life. I shall send word to begin preparations for departure at once."

"Is there not a way to stop this? asks the second man, once we get there we will be defenceless! We won’t have anything to help us survive. And all we’ve got is…."

The rant is rudely interrupted by the wail of a siren, causing all three figures to jump

"The decision is made for us," proclaims the first voice in a tone that will brook no argument. "I choose an uncertain future for our people on an unknown earth rather than certain death by remaining here. Make the necessary preparations."

Exit Point – 08:37

Flash after flash illuminates the hill and waves of people stagger down the hill, blinking and shielding their eyes from the light. Their clothes are dirty and all but a few look worse for wear, thin and bedraggled. Men come first and look stronger than the others, waving strange weapons which fall apart as they carry them. They clutch to them still, like some token to ward off an unspeakable evil. Next come the women and children, looking around them uncertainly and heading in dribs and drabs towards the shelter of the woods. More men come next, as do the old and the infirm, helped by those around them. Three figures wait by the Exit Point, the same three who huddled around the computer. They direct the human tide down the hill and try and stem their panic. It seems their presence goes quite some way towards calming the people. Then the flashes abruptly stop. The figures, and indeed the people who had just exited, regard it for some time before reacting.

"There were many still to come," says the second man. In the light it can be seen he is a man in his early thirties, clean shaven and with blond hair. He is clothed in the remnants of a military uniform and clutches the remains of a pistol.

"We did all we could," says the first speaker, an older man in his fifties with a few strands of whitening hair teased across his otherwise bald scalp, "we need to look to the future now and make the best we can. We must make a camp and get the shelters up before it gets dark, lest we all freeze."

"And then what?" asks the scientist, who is the youngest of the three, barely midway through his twenties and with unkempt brown hair and the beginnings of a beard.

"Well, then we start exploring the new world…" says the first, and turns towards the remnants of their people.

OOC - If anyone wants the refugees to turn up in their country I'm happy to run with it.
Xanthal
04-02-2004, 14:06
I'm a future nation, so you probably don't want to get mixed up with me. If you do though, I'd be happy to RP with you.
04-02-2004, 14:09
I'm a future nation, so you probably don't want to get mixed up with me. If you do though, I'd be happy to RP with you.

OOC - As a preference I would prefer to deal with a pseudo-modern nation though obviously it would have to be one willing to accept the existance of Sliders-esque dimensional travel (in a general sense rather than a here-and-now sense given the deliberate tech crippling). But thanks for the offer.
04-02-2004, 17:05
Exit Point – 19:15

Though the hill itself stands relatively untouched, the surrounding area has become a forest of slightly off-white pre-fab domes interspersed with groups of shabby people warming themselves around fires. The sun is just beginning to sink below the horizon and the temperature is already beginning to drop. Positioned slightly further up the hill is a slightly larger dome which emits ‘Command Centre’ vibes. Inside the dome our three individuals from earlier sit on the shelter floor around a collection of flat rocks which appear to have been arranged in an approximation of a table. With a military man’s ability to acquire something lethal in any situation, the second man is nervously fiddling with a primitive spear which rests across his lap.

"Alright," says the first man as he looks over a crude map of the area penned by one of the refugees this afternoon, "how about a situation report? You first, Innhausen."

Innhausen, the scientist still dressed in the remnants of a scorched lab coat, takes a nervous breath before replying. "Well, Commissioner Harle, I hesitate to tempt fate by stateing as much but I believe we could not have picked a better area to make an incursion. All our basic needs are catered for, we have a good supply of wood and there’s a stream about five minutes walk to the east. Looks very clean but we’re boiling it anyway, just to be on the safe side. Thankfully the pre-fabs didn’t lose integrity during the transit so we’ve got enough shelter too. There’s a fair amount of fruit and other edible materials in the forest but I’m not sure what the situation on acquiring some meat is."

The first man, Commissioner Harle, turns to his military associate with a questioning look. "Serling?"

Serling ceases playing with his spear and peers briefly at the maps across the table before looking up at Harle. "There’s a fair amount of game around further into the forest but what with having to make weapons and establish a defensive perimeter we just haven’t had time to do anything about it this today. I’ve got a few good men who used to hunt before…well, they used to hunt for sport so they’ll be taking out the rest and showing them the ropes. We’ll put down traps and hopefully we’ll have some protein in our bellies by nightfall tomorrow. Good job too, we don’t want to hit our MREs too quickly, they’ll keep for when we really them."

Serling briefly pauses as he weighs up something in his mind. "I’ve arranged watches for tonight and our defences are in order so we should be fine sitting tight for tonight. However, with your permission I’d like to take ten men and scout further afield tomorrow morning. After all, we really have no idea where we are, there could be any amount of unpleasantness over the brow of the next hill."

Harle strokes his chin for a moment. "Agreed, but return here before nightfall. We’re not ready for any serious venture quite yet. I’d suggest you get your team some rest straight away if you want to be out at first light tomorrow."

"Understood." Serling rises to his feet, gives a respectful nod and heads out of the Dome while the Harle and Innhausen look back to the maps, looking for those resources that will present them with the best chance and keeping their refugee camp alive.
Dougalich
04-02-2004, 18:09
OOC: You're welcome in Tarlachia, a nation that is mostly just regular modern people, some advanced technology and a good deal of the mythological/fantasy. I think it woud be interesting to see your refugees land in our borders, and realize that creatures that exist in Tarlachia actually do exist... If you don't like this then just tell me and I'll stop posting.

IC:
Pale blue eyes intently watched as the foreigners huddled around their fires, illuminating the surrounding forests in a pale yellow light. The moon lay low on the horizon, yet it lit up the fields well enough for him to see the activity of the strangers. The observer was Draman, a hybrid of human and dragon components, which survived well in both environments. This one sported hard dragonscale skin, senses, and some facial features similar to dragons. Yet, at the same time, the body was primarily human in shape. He had abnormal strength, and agility, and was rumored to be the last in the line of the true dragon bloodline that existed only in Tarlachia.

Getting up, the Draman walked toward the mostly unarmed group of ragtag survivors, sheathing his sword, and his Desert Eagle, specially modified to fire special types of ammo for various creatures.

In a harsh, cold voice, he spoke to one of the men that had guided the rest of the people out of the wormhole:

"Greetings...you look like you could use some help. My name is Tokram, do not be alarmed, I come to you in peace."

http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/draco_gallery/75653.jpg
05-02-2004, 10:31
OOC - Sounds good, I'll be happy to run with it

The man that Tokram revealed himself to was the military individual Serling, who had just been doing a final patrol to make sure all the sentries were in place and was briefing a man and a woman on the camp perimeter.

All three people turn quickly to look at where the voice was coming from and all three recoil in surprise as the flickering fire-light illuminates the visitor's features.

"Ed ec e Tasuh!" (Trans: It is a demon!) proclaims the male soldier and raises his spear in defence.

"Fyed! Fa ghuf hud fnyd ed ec!" (Trans: Stop! We know not what it is!) replies the woman, though she too readies her spear.

Serling reaches out and grabs the arm of his frightened soldier. "Hydeja, Veht Harle yht dacc res ra ec haatat yd dra vuindr banesadan vena. Ku huf!" (Trans: Hydeja, find Harle and tell him he is needed at the fourth perimeter fire. Go now!)

The soldier man sprints away back into the camp, still clutching his spear and looking over his soldier fearfully as he runs back to the central dome. The commotion has attracted the attention of many of the nearby soldiers, who edge closer with their spears readied. As word spreads to the non-military contingent of the camp about their visitor, an edge of panic begins to set in.

Serling turns to the newcomer with his spear lowered but ready. His voice has a tremor of nervousness but his demeanour suggests an individual who has long grown used to standing up to his fears. After a brief pause in silence he calls out to Tokram.

"Etahdevo ouincamv!" (Trans: Identify yourself!)

OOC - Bit of an explanation here, the refugees speak a very odd language which isn't found anywhere else on earth. It was left out of the previous posts because just like in the movies, any language spoken purely between speakers of that language in a scene defaults to english. It's only in scenes that require them to talk to non-speakers that languages are actually used.
Tarlachia
05-02-2004, 11:27
Tokram sighed as he watched the seemingly primitive peoples surround him. They spoke a language that he had not heard before. That in itself was rare, for he had traveled the world extensively. Looking around at the foreigners, he decided to show his friendliness. Their panic was understandable, he wasn't exactly one to be seen as "soft". Nevertheless, he raised his hands slowly, beckoned for them to lower their weapons slightly, and began to remove the weapons from his possession.

First came the two Desert Eagles, within their holsters, followed by two daggers. Finally his weapon of choice, Fireblade, was laid down at his feet, and he stepped away from them. It was a beautiful blade, constructed solely for the use of those that could prove their lineage to the dragon bloodline. The blade was of a fire shape, emitting from the mouth of a dragon which served as a guard, protecting his hand from opponents' weapons attacks. Several murmurs of awe floated through the crowd, as they saw his sword. Tokram smiled slightly, this sword always had the same effect on anyone who laid their eyes on it for the first time.

(OOC: Here's a picture of Fireblade, just ignore the fact that the website says that it's a dagger. In this story, it's a decently sized sword :D :lol: )
http://www.pjsoutlet.com/bl12.html


After allowing some muttering in the foreign tongue pass, he thought for a few moments before kneeling to the ground. He tore aside some of the grass, revealing the rich earth below, and smoothed the dirt. With his finger, he slowly began to work a picture into existence. First, he drew an open hand, in a grip with another hand. Secondly, he traced a crude picture of the wormhole travelers. This was soon joined with a tracing of himself, sitting on the ground along with the travelers.

Tokram looked up at the soldiers around him, and watched their faces work to figure out the drawing upon the dark rich soil. He did not show fear of these peoples, nor did they present a large enough threat to him. If necessary, he could easily fight his way out of the middle amongst them. Their spears would only glance off his scaled skin, no matter how hard they thrust them.

Gesturing to himself with a scaled finger, he simply said, "Tokram."
Kanuckistan
05-02-2004, 12:15
OOC: Mind if I crash a StratoCruiser nearby?
05-02-2004, 12:18
Tokram's act of removing weapons is received well by the group of soldiers, and although they don't drop their weapons they do stand them on the ground in a much less aggressive stance. Serling seems a little more relaxed once Tokram has relinquished his firearms and the drop in tension filters out to his men. A pair of figures, led by a third figure who was the male soldier from before, make their way to the edge of the camp where Tokram is. One of the figures is the stately Harle, while the other is the man dressed in the manner of a scientist, Innhausen. Out of everyone in the camp, Innhausen is the only one who seems completely unphased by Tokram's presence. They watch in silence as Tokram traces his pictures in the earth and announces his name.

"Vyclehydehk! Nuf ytjyhlat tu oui drehg ed ec?" (Trans: Fascinating! How advanced do you think it is?) Harle asks Serling once he has got his breath back from the brisk jog down the hill.

Serling gives a meaningful glance towards the pile of armaments recently shed by Tokram. "E't cyo bhaddo ytjyhlat. Druca muug mega myga lraselym aqbmucefa gehadelc du sa" (Trans: I'd say pretty advanced. Those look like late chemical explosive kinetics to me.)

Innhausen nods in confirmation and crouches down to examine the pictures. "E pameaja drec beldina tabeldc uincamjac yht drec 'Tokram' aqecdehk eh e cediydeuh uv bayla. E ys ihvysemeyn fedr drec ryht kacdina druikr, ed sya famm pa y limdinym kamdina." (Trans: I believe this picture depicts ourselves and this 'Tokram' existing in a situation of peace. I am unfamiliar with this hand gesture though, it may well be a cultural gesture.)

Harle nods and kneels down next to Tokram, with the unspoken protest from Serling at this rash action evident from his exasperated sigh. Harle traces an almost identical copy of Tokram's second drawing but with the positions of the travellers and Tokram reversed. Pointing towards himself, he said "Harle", before tentavily offering a hand in a way that illustrates this is an unknown gesture to these people.
05-02-2004, 12:20
OOC: Mind if I crash a StratoCruiser nearby?

OOC - No objection as far as I am concerned, but it may be wise to get permission from the owner of the country you are about to crash it in before proceeding.
Kanuckistan
05-02-2004, 12:28
OOC: Mind if I crash a StratoCruiser nearby?

OOC - No objection as far as I am concerned, but it may be wise to get permission from the owner of the country you are about to crash it in before proceeding.

OOC: Aye; twas addressing the pair of ya :wink:
Tarlachia
05-02-2004, 17:55
OOC: Not a problem, it'll be interesting to see what you've got to bring to the table...

IC:
Tokram nodded slightly, as he accepted the gesture and returned it. He felt his scaled hand sliding roughly over the man's soft hands as they shook. He spoke the man's name, as if he were testing it for its truth upon his tongue:

"Harle, it is good that you understand."

The Draman stood, as he gestured for the man to follow him to his belongings. From his pack, he drew a carefully wrapped piece of meat, and held it momentarily. He also pulled out a fruit, before he turned back to Harle, and offered the food to him. He pointed toward the woods and the food several times, trying to communicate that food was abundant in the woods. He had sensed the hunger the people had earlier, and so he knew this was the best way for them to get to trust him.
Tarlachia
07-02-2004, 07:01
Bump...waiting for response from Harle....
Tarlachia
08-02-2004, 10:59
Bump....still waiting.......
Tarlachia
09-02-2004, 04:41
Durrant...where are you???.....

Bumpity bump bump bump!
Tarlachia
10-02-2004, 06:46
bump.........
Tarlachia
12-02-2004, 08:58
Bump.........waiting patiently........but hurry up already lol :lol:
Tarlachia
15-02-2004, 21:07
BUMP.........I'm sending you a TG, maybe you just lost this link, and can't find it, or get to it....