(TFT) Premise for a solo adventure

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Premise for a solo adventure


Almost a year ago you booked passage on a ship headed home after a long adventure. The price of passage seemed reasonable at the time.? Looking back, it was probably too reasonable.? Eighteen days into the journey your ship was overtaken by a fierce tropical storm and the ship sank.? This is the price of traveling at the wrong time of the year.


Lucky for you, you had stashed some "fresh air" pills in your pack, you used them to allow you to breathe underwater for almost 4 hours in which time you salvaged some of your equipment and fasioned a small raft out of parts of the ship.? Unfortunately, the violent seas proved too rough for your raft and only a day later you found yourself clinging to a floating piece of wreckage with only the smallest of your weapons tucked in your belt.? You could also save any of your jewelry that you could wear (without violating the rule of 5), some rope, and a medium sized, heavy wooden box of midevil woodworking tools.? As it happened, the box still floated, even with it's cargo of tools.? 


You eventually drift to the shores of a large island that is populated by a very large number of primitive, but not uncivilized inhabitants.? You wander the entire perimiter of the island in a journey that takes almost two weeks.? You conclude that the maority of the island's residents are probably already living in the safest place on the island. Unfortunately, you are not truly welcomed by these people and you are forced to build your own shelter on a beach along with a few other outcasts from hut city that surrounds the mouth of a smallish freshwater river running to the sea from distant, low mountains.


Almost entirely untrusted and unable to speak the language of these people, you fall into the role of a visiting antropologist.? Mostly the natives tollerate your presence so long as you do not venture too close to their homes.? And, for the most part you stay away from the people anyway, by choice.? It doesn't take you long to notice that they seem to collectively lack any sense of compassion for anyone outside each of their smallish families.? If one family falls on hard times, becomes sick for example, the others would very quickly seize upon this type of opportunity to steal from afflicted.? To you, it almost seems like the people believe that they have some sort of tacit permission to act this way.? You conclude that they might see misfortune as a sign from some unknown gods that you are out of favor.


But, whatever they might or might not believe, you certainly do not wish to fall victem to having any of your things stolen.? After you constructed your own hut you burried your tools deep enough in the sand that the others would not be able to dig them up in the time you spend fishing each day.? Anyway, your aura is strange enough to keep people from interacting with you, even to steal your stuff.? 


Then, a month ago, you were returning from the river with some fresh water in a small bucket you carved, when you stumbled onto a scene that enraged you.? Only meters from your hut three women, one older and two young girls were trying to escape three men and two women who were all yelling, kicking the women and pulling their hair if they could.? In the distance, on the sand was the body of an older man, he was not moving, but from the fresh footprints of the crowd, you could tell that this group all came from the direction of the prone figure.? 


When the men in the taunting group first see you, they stop short, grabbing the arms of their own women, allowing their prey to crawl away a few feet in the sand.? Up close, the victems are all bleeding and clearly seriously injured.? And in a moment of what you might regret as bad judgement, you step forward and present yourself as their champion, raising your chin and staring directly into the eyes of the largest of the three men.? The largest man returns your stare for a good long moment then turns his eyes toward the sky as if he is doing some sort of mental arithmetic.? Suddenly he laughs, a universal form of communication.? His laugh sounds like a scoff or a dismissal.? Clearly he doesn't think continuing to abuse these women is worth fighting anyone, including you.? With some arm gestures, the others follow him away off the beach.


The women stand with each other's help, and when the others are far enough down the beach they run to the fallen man.? After much crying, hugging each other and beating the ground you rightly conclude that the man is dead.? 


In the weeks since you rescued the women, they took up residence on your doorstep.? And, realizing that you were really in fact very lonely, you let them stay.? 


But in only a few days, you began to wonder how you ever lived without them.? The girls proved themseleves very resourceful in finding fruits and eggs from the nearby jungle.? Until now your diet had consisted of mostly fish, and your teeth had begun hurting as if they missed variety.? The older woman produced a few clay pots from somewhere while you were away and began cooking weak soups that were not entirely flavorless.? 


So, feeling not quite unloved, and maybe even a little fortunate you woke early this morning to? a grey sky with formidable looking black clouds in the distance over the sea.? It has only been a year since you witnessed a storm strong enough to tear apart a large sailing ship as if it was a child's play-thing.? These clouds somehow look even worse.? There is a very unsettled mood in the nearby village and the people are moving around briskly, like disturbed ants. Your own adopted family is also showing signs of unease.? They appear to have collected the few things they own and are all sitting near the burned out firepit.? The children are looking out at the warm ocean waters, the waves are uncharacteristically violent, frequently hitting the beach and pushing water all the way to the high-water line as if it was high tide. 


You look at the sky, doing your own mental arithmetic. Far off where the sun should be, you think you see a flash of light in the dark, dark clouds.? 


An hour later, you have nearly unburried your box of tools as the older woman and two young girls sit watching you dig, clearly puzzled by your actions.? They are becoming more anxious each minute now because a strong wind is blowing, and it looks like it will begin raining very soon.


Retrieving your toolbox, you fashion a quick but effective drag cart using two long sticks of bamboo and some of your rope.? You already walked around the island carrying your toolbox once,? and you vowed that you would never do that again unless it was absolutely necessary.? A little relieved, your charges fall in behind you carrying their things as you walk up toward the town.


The town is practically deserted.? The only people left are scurrying around, clearly stealing what was left behind by others.? The waves have continued to push up the beach, and you're fairly confident in your decision to migrate with the herd up river toward the mountains.? Their track isn't hard to follow, and as the first blows of rain hit you, you have already begun to pass other families, most of them struggling under their loads.? 


Two hours later and you're still moving along the slow river through the sparse jungle trees. The rain has come and? gone several times as you walked, but the winds are getting much stronger with each new attack.? And then the strongest squall yet blows in from the other side of the river. 


None of the other rain-bursts prior to this one gave you true pause.? Neither did the others slow you down or stop you in your tracks.? Simply put, you had never felt wind like this before in your life.? For nearly twenty minutes it rained so hard that the droplets stung your skin.? You had difficulty seeing due to the blowing rain and sand and the sound of the same hitting the palm leaves around you made you think that thousands of people all decided to tear up the paper of every book that had ever been written. It was like the trees were screaming in pain from the assult. You found yourself taking refuge behind a few of these helpless allies.? 


The next wave of rain wasn't nearly as bad as the last and it was over much quicker.? But, after it passed, you noticed that off in the distance back toward the beach, the sea appeared to be washing inland with great speed.? It didn't take you long to understand that the land is very low and flat, almost all the way to the mountains.? You feel a little stab of panic and worry that you may have lingered too long on the beach. You pick up the pace pulling furiously at your load.? But, in less than a minute, you notice that the girls are falling behind.? 


Dropping the handles of your load, you walk quickly back to the girls and when you reach them you forcefully knock the things they are carrying out of their hands onto the ground. One of the girls makes a short move as to pick it back up, but both size up your stare and then look frantically at their mother for guidance.? The mother drops everything she is carrying except for her primary cooking pot and continues walking toward the mountains past your abandoned toolchest.? The girls sprint after her with empty hands.? Satisfied, you take up your load again and redouble your pace.? 


After two more rain bands rip through, delaying your journey only briefly, it begins raining steadily even after the last squall has passed.? You begin to wonder if you were ever even this wet when you were swimming for all those days after your shipwreck.? 


You pass even more people.? Clearly everyone is now strugging with fatigue.? The ocean appears to be swelling the river.? More precicely, it appears to be flowing backwards.? It is now full of green leaves and mud.? Leaves are strewn all over the jungle floor making it easy to trip on unseen obstacles.? 


In the next hour the sky gets even darker, worrysome dark for midday.? The relentless rain and wind make it difficult to see the girls who are now holding onto the bamboo poles at each of your sides.? They seem to be trying to help you, but your own pace has slowed to match even the older woman's normal walking gait.? You consider leaving your tools for the first time when you turn and see ocean waves again, they're not very far away.? The sea is swallowing the island!? It's progression inland is your new definition of horror.? And then the wind surged.? 


Both of the girls and the old woman are blown off their feet by the first gust.? The sand burns like a sudden burst of fire on your arms and face. You yell at the others to get down as if they would understand your words.? 


It is highly unlikely they even heard your cry, you're not sure you heard yourself in the roar.? A palm frond strikes you with such force that it dazes you.? Seconds later you take refuge behind your toolchest on the ground.? The children cling to you in the sand and all around you the world comes to pieces.? 


A half minute later you feel a hand grabbing your elbow and reach to pull the old woman up under your arm.? She is holding her head with her other hand and you see a tree fall beside you. Water from the river blows in a sudden gust like a wave knocking your toolchest into your head. The wind actually moved your heavy chest. Now you're starting to feel a little paniced and panic is the sure harbinger of doom.? Successfully, you calm yourself braving for an uncertain future with a newfound meaning to the word "serious".? 


The blast of wind passes and there is a moment of relative calm.? You quickly note that your bamboo shafts are missing so you reach deep inside for a burst of strength and lift your heavy chest with both arms.? Yelling at the women, you practically run into the nightmarish landscape ahead.? Your only visible means of navigation is the river.? All other distant objects are veiled, hidden by the grey curtain of rain in all directions. 


You don't run long before the next blast of wind overtakes you.? The extra weight of the chest is actually strangely comforting in the heavy gale, but the blowing debris flies up from the ground all around you and you dive to the ground again followed closely by the girls.? Even behind the chest, the flying? sand and anything else screams by, tearing at your flesh wherever it is exposed and hammering on the far side of the chest like heavy rocks.? And the wind is relentless this time.? When it finally slacks thirty some minutes later you notice that the girls are both crying hysterically.? You don't see their mother anywhere! She never made it behind the chest.? One of the girls'right leg is also bleeding from a fresh cut. This is madness!? You stumble to your feet in the heavy wind and look around, but less than a minute later you dive for cover again behind the chest with the girls.? A tree falls right beside you nearly crushing all of you and the chest!? The wind howls.


In the next small break you only have time to move the chest slightly so it is butted up against the fallen tree.? The wedge offers you a small amount of extra protection.? You realize that you're proably not going to be moving again and you grab at some nearby debris that is not currently flying and begin jamming it into the ground point first to extend the wall of protection.


The next hour is hell.? Unrelenting winds tear up the world.? Everywhere is chaos.? The river has risen almost to where you are lying prone.? You are completely unable to move without being clubbed to death by debris.? Straws of island grass are embedded like tiny darts in the tree trunk and chest you're hiding behind.? With all of your spare energy, you have been steadily digging a small ditch in the sand under the fallen tree.? The girls even helped dig and are now hiding in the shallow hole that is already mostly full of water. There is no doubt in your mind that your toolchest is the only reason the three of your are still alive.? In the stronger gusts, you hold onto the side of the chest keeping it from abandoning you.? Your arms ache from hours of effort.


And then, almost all of a sudden, the wind begins to slow again.? It has definately shifted direction, the tree has now become better shelter from the wind than the box.? A few more big gusts later and then the wind holds steady, still picking up light debris and sand, but showing none of the angry force it and screaming intensity it held only an hour before.? You are able to see a little further through the rain and you are amazed to see ocean waves in the nearby river.? The sea is very close-by. 


You put a hand on each of the girls as you stand.? You try to make it clear that you do not want them getting up yet from the tree.? They obey, but they seem distressed at seeing you move slowly away.? You begin searching the nearby destruction.? It doesn't take long for you to find the body of the girl's mother.? She was pushed up against another fallen tree.? Mercifully, she was mostly covered by a mound of foliage.? Without this small protection the flying debris would likely have torn the flesh from her body.? Surprizingly, the cookpot she saved somehow survived? halfway burried in the sand beneath her body.? You pick up the pot and return to the crying girls.? 


... 


A day later with the two girls in tow, you stumble through the devistated forest into a large gathering of survivors.? You are met by quite a few uncomfortable glances.? As refugees, the villagers now seems even more dangerous.? Everyone seems to be suffering and there is an electricity of feeding frenzy in the air.? Having re-fasioned a drag cart, you pull your chest through the camp, continuing on your way toward the mountains where you hope the winds have spared some of the jungle fruits and where you hope there is fresh water.? The river which once? flowed with drinkable water is now brackish and dirty with mud and debris.? 


You walk on for a half hour through increasingly hostile looking small groups of villagers.? None of them appear to know what to do.? They all look hungry and thirsty.? You have needed to go to the bathroom for hours now, but you dare not leave your stuff in the protection of the girls with these jackals waiting in the shadows of an approaching night.

... 

Before long, you will find yourself the fox in the company of hounds on this island.? Your mission will be to elude capture and superstitious punishment by the throng.? You might want to keep your tools somehow, and it would be nice to save the girls as well. Encounters are likely to be small groups at a time, but you will be one against many.? If you do not try to subjugate some of the villagers and build a consitituency, you will be overwhelmed by an angry mob.? 

Use what you have saved and who you are to become a leader, either through strength or magic.? If you cannot, you will die.


Good Fortune,
Richard
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