forum Dystopian Fantasy RP aw yeah (Private)

Started May 02, 2018 by @Young-Dusty-the-Monarch-of-Dusteria group

tune

“I haven’t planned a party in ages,” Tanrial admitted, “Haven’t been to one in a while too. Then again, parties were more like festivals back home.”

"We can have a nice cozy little party," Bernon said, already busily planning every detail in his head. "We can fry sausages, and eat cake, and sing campfire songs–"
Just then there was another roll of thunder, this one much louder. Bernon closed his mouth abruptly. "On second thought, maybe we should focus on getting to this village first."

"It shouldn't be too far away, right? We should be able to make it before the rain hits if we hurry." Though she frowned up at the sky and didn't quite believe they would.

"I'm seeing some chopped trees and cleared brush up ahead," Mike said. "So I think we're almost there. I was talking to Ozrig the other day and he said there should be a sign on the road for Den Ys. That's the name of the town."

"Huh? Strange name? Who even names towns? Do like, a group of people just come together with ideas and they vote on the best one or something?"

"No idea. Maybe you should ask them when we get there. It is kind of a weird name….doesn't even sound English."
Bernon took a drink of water before he spoke. "We're not too far from the coast here, I'm sure there's plenty of other spoken languages in this area. Den Ys…..doesn't quite sound Spanish…..maybe Welsh? I don't know much about that culture. Um….I guess there's still some influences from the ancient tribes that used to live here waaaay back, before colonizers even came to America. Maybe the name means something in one of their languages."
Mike led them out into a clearing and pointed. "I think we'll find out soon enough. There's the village."
Slightly below them in the clearing was a cluster of wooden buildings, all either lined up along the road or crowding close to the narrow river running nearby. The whole place seemed to be constructed around a larger, square building with a flat roof and cracked concrete all around it. From this distance, it was possible to see the ruins of an older, larger town underneath the new one, but most of it had been completely leveled by some catastrophe long ago. People made their was around the town or worked in small gardens close by, seemingly oblivious to the threat of rain.

(You’d think by now, the school should get it’s crap together and give my materials class a proper teacher… but nope, still reliefs)
“Do you think they’ll continue working in the rain? I mean, I guess they might need to get the work finished and stuff but it would suck to come home drenched.”

(aww…..what's materials class btw? I don't think I've ever heard of that one?)
Mike started down the hill. "I'm not sure, but I hope the market at least stays open. Otherwise we kinda came here for nothing. Let's go find somebody to talk to and ask where the map-maker lives."

(It’s woodworking and metal working. One of my electives for this year)
They headed down the hill with only a couple slips on the way, and it didn’t take long before the old cobbled pathway took over their dirt path. A light drizzle of rain had started, just preparing itself for the soon to be heavy down pour. There were a few vendors open along the way to the market, unfazed by the oncoming storm.

(Oooh, really? That's so cool, I'd love to take a class like that! Too bad about your teacher though :/ )
One of the vendors, an old woman in a weird patched pink dress, saw them approach and waved eagerly. "Hello, travelers! Welcome to our fine village of Den Ys! Can I be of any help to you? would you like an informational brochure?"

(Yeah, it kinda sucks. Aren’t you homeschool or am I making that up?)
Tanrial looked over and offered a small smile, “Uh, yeah. Um, we’re looking for a map maker. Do you know where that is?”

(That is correct ^^ I guess I could probably find me a class somewhere if I really wanted, never thought of that lol XD)
"The map-maker? Oh, you mean good old Torres, don't you? He lives just up the–well, here." She rummaged around in her cart and pulled out a folded piece of cloth. Proudly, she spread it out to show a carefully painted street map of the village, with labels for everything and even some carefully printed paragraphs describing local attractions. "Here, just buy one of my maps for six iron or equivalent currency, and that'll tell you all you need to know!"
Bernon leaned closer to inspect the map. "You make these? By hand?"
"Sure do, sonny! Every last one!" She beamed. "Den Ys is a historical landmark, you know. It needs publicity!"

(Damn, lucky! Be glad you don’t have to spend six hours a day with a bunch of idiots XD)
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of this place before, but I’ll be sure to come back soon. So, are we gonna buy one of these guys?”

(haha yeah I agree XD)
Bernon dug in his pocket and pulled out some change. "How much is that in actual money? Like twenty-five cents?"
The old woman pouted. "Not so fast, kiddo. Do you have any idea how long it takes to make these?"
"Fair point. Fifty?"
"Much better." She accepted the coins and handed him the "brochure" with a sweet smile. "I highly recommend you get a tour from my son and have a look around! The story of this place is fascinating, I know you'll love it! Have fun, then!"

"Okay, thanks for all the help Ma'am! Make sure to head inside before it starts really pouring with rain." Tanrial gave her a small wave before peering over Bernon's shoulder to look at the 'brochure.'

According to the writing, it seemed that the map-maker's house was on the far side of the village, a little apart from the other houses. Bernon set off down the road, still examining his purchase. "Look at the detail here. Can you imagine how much a thing like this would have cost back in the old days, before money lost half its value?"
"Yeah," Mike grumbled. "About a dime. Who makes a map of a tiny little place like this? After today, the thing is useless. I can't believe you bought one."
"Well I think it's sweet that she cares so much," Bernon retorted. "Although, I agree that this village is really weird. I wonder what happened here that was so special……"

"Me too. Hey, didn't that woman say her son does tours around here?" Tanrial thought for a moment, "Yeah, yeah she did! Maybe we could get a tour from him and we could find out about why this place is such a 'historical landmark.'"

Mike groaned. "Oh for–"
"Yeah, good idea!" Bernon said, slowing. "Let's see if we can find that guy." He spotted a very tall man walking by with a shovel over his shoulder and waved at him. "Excuse me sir, do you know where we can find the tour guide of this town?"
The man looked over at them darkly for a second, then sighed and turned to slope over to them. "You're in luck," he intoned darkly. "Gunnar the tour guide, that's me." He glanced at the sky, which was still shedding rain, then back at them with a resigned expression. "Would you like the whole tour, or would you rather just skip to the interesting part and call it done there?"

(Mike is a whole ass mood and I’m here for it)
“Just the interesting part,” Tanrial slopped her hand sin her pockets and shrugged, “I don’t think we’d like to spend too much time in the rain and I don’t think you do, too.”

(hahaha same XD)
"Got that right," Gunnar grumbled, turning and leading them towards the center of town. "So, the story of Den Ys goes like this: two hundred years ago or something like that, everything here was like a paradise. It was the old days, you know, before all the bad stuff happened. Except then it did happen. The town that used to stand here, it was attacked mercilessly by fire beasts. Ever met one?"

(He is also my current mood and that makes him even more relatable lmao)
“Well…. I mean… yeeeeah?”

(ahaha we've all been there at some point ^^; )
Gunnar shook his head. "A whole army of them burned the town for ten days and nights. Countless were killed. In fact, the only ones that managed to survive…" He halted outside the large square building they'd seen from the hill. "…took refuge here."
Bernon peered at the strange place. "What is it?"
"We don't know. That was generations ago, and nobody thought to record the building's original use. But it withstood the barrage of fire with barely a scratch, and after ten days the beasts gave up and moved on. The survivors started a new village in the ruins, and in honor of their savior they named the village after the building." Gunnar pointed at a very, very weathered sign standing nearby, covered in holes and scorch marks. The only legible letters were the red and yellow D-E-N Y-S with a blotch through the middle.
Mike narrowed his eyes as he studied it. "And that whole story is true?"
"As true as when my mother told it to me," Gunnar droned. "Want to step inside and have a look around?"

"I don't see why not," Again, Tanrial shrugged, "We have a little time to kill, don't we?"

"A very small amount," Mike muttered, but Bernon was already marching cheerfully towards the front door. Gunnar lengthened his stride to get the door for them.
"It's the town hall these days," he said as they entered. "We're not sure what it used to be for, but the main room is great for village meetings. It's even got a kitchen in back that…..partially works."
The main room was large, with a spacious area full of mismatched chairs on one side and strange artifacts mounted on every bit of wall-space that wasn't a window. There were metal signs that no longer made any sense, large statues of long-necked pink birds, and rows upon rows of rectangular plastic shells decorated in countless colorful patterns. Near the front of the room, a large desk blocked the way to an inner room, and a twenty-year old girl sat behind the desk, looking incredibly bored. As they entered, she straightened up and grinned widely at them. "Welcome to the Den Ys town hall and please don't touch anything!"
"My cousin," Gunnar said, closing the door. "She's town secretary."
The girl's head whipped around and she glared at him. "Gunnar, I told you not to actually bring tourists inside the building!" she hissed. "This is an important place and I'm busy!"
"No you're not." Gunnar stared with weary despair out the window. "Nobody's busy in this forsaken place. We're all just standing around…waiting to die…..and we might as well torture each other while we wait."
His cousin made a noise of frustration and turned back to Tanrial with a very bright smile. "Just ignore him, he's always like that. I'm Florie, nice to meet you all."

Tanrial gave her a two fingered salute in return, “Nice to meet you too, Florie. I’m Tanrial and these are my friends, Mike and Bernon.” She pointed to each.

"Hello," Bernon said, waving. Mike gave Florie a polite nod and went back to examining the room's decorations. "Does anyone else work here?" he asked after a minute.
"Oh yes," Florie said, stretching and cracking her knuckles. "Like half the village has a job here, actually. The mayor himself almost never leaves his house, but we drag him out sometimes on important days like Junk-Trading Day and the first day of Peckerball Season." She put her elbows on the desk and rested her chin in her hands. "So what brings you three here to our humble town, anyway? Where are you from?"

"We're currently staying at another village not too far from here. We've had to deal with some… trouble the past couple days but luckily it's mostly been dealt with. We heard there was a market round here and needed some new supplies before we head on our way."

"Oh, the market, huh? Yeah, it'll open all the way pretty soon." She paused, then squinted curiously at them. "What kind of trouble exactly? Becaaauuuse nobody's been over to pick up their cow milk and beef for a couple days. It's gonna spoil."
Mike frowned. "Who do you trade milk and beef to?"
"We didn't trade it, we sold it for a lot of money. Some rich recluse near here used to send for it all the time, but he's late. You guys wouldn't have any idea what happened, would you?"

Tanrial rubbed at her neck and smiled sheepishly, "Maybe. It's a long story but I wouldn't be expecting him for a while, sorry."