she thought.
the Archive said, shrugging on her shoulder,
Ignoring the Archive, she closed her eyes and let herself drift off into a half-conscious state. It didn’t matter, the waves were crashing hard against the shore behind her, a constant pounding rhythm in her ears. Mutating glaives for legs had taken more out of her than she’d been aware of, and now that she had a chance to recuperate, she had to take it.
The Archive grumbled, playing along for what was probably ten, twenty, or even thirty minutes. She heard it counting down the time in her head, debating whether or not she’d recovered enough so it could tell her to move.
After an hour or so, it decided it had enough of her lying flat on her stomach tasting black sand on her lips. It shouted full force in her ears, making her jolt, roll over, and sit upright—she rubbed her eyes and scratched her ears groggily as she tried to ignore the dull throbbing where her thighs connected to her glaives.
It’d probably be a while before she could get completely used to her new legs.
the Archive said, the little water strider hanging off the bridge of her nose and waving its legs angrily.
she grumbled, wiping weary tears from the corner of her eyes. She stood up on wobbly glaives, moaning at how stiff she felt.
It certainly wasn’t easy. If it weren’t for the months upon months of balance training she’d undertaken as a Sand-Dancer, she’d say it would be downright impossible for anyone to ‘walk’ on land with blades for legs. She had to focus. She had to pay attention. She had to carefully lift one glaive, place it ahead of the other, and make sure to focus all her weight on the very tip before moving her other glaive.
Like constantly walking on tiptoes, except she had two toes, and they were sharp as all hell.
The Archive didn’t answer immediately, so she took that as an ‘I don’t know’ and started skating slowly forward into the forest, taking great care not to fall.
[Objective #3: Identify the landmass and search for essential survival supplies]
[Time Limit: Undefined]
[Reward: Navigation Data, Survival]
[Failure: Death]
The air grew heavy with the scent of exotic blooms. Unknown bugs and birds sang through the dense forest as she left the beach behind. She’d lived her entire life in a desert town, so she knew what ‘forests’ were… and that was about the extent of her knowledge.
Compared to the palm trees in her town, the trees here were , their branches heavy with moss and creeping vines. They formed a thick canopy fifty meters overhead. Under her glaives, she felt the soft, springy give of moss, the hard crunches of fallen leaves, and the wet squishes of soil after a light drizzle. It was hard not to marvel at everything around her like a tourist. She trudged across the giant elevated tree roots like pathways—and that wasn’t even mentioning the countless flora she couldn’t even put a name to.
she asked, pointing at a bundle of bluish-pink lumps hanging from a giant branch.
The deeper she ventured inland, the more she realized the forest wasn’t one flat terrain. It was multi-levelled, the giant tree roots sometimes serving as bridges across deep, gaping, bottomless chasms. On one occasion, when she found a particular swirly branch she felt she could skate down on and reach a lower section of the forest with, she immediately jumped on and let her glaives take her forward.
With glee, she spread her arms the entire slide down to keep her balance.
Grinning, she paid more attention to the flora around her as she slid across the giant roots, pointing out any otherworldly plants that caught her eye to the Archive.
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She glanced at the Archive, raising an unimpressed brow as she balanced across another chasm on a giant root.
the Archive muttered.
the Archive corrected, pointing one of its little legs up.
She pursed her lips and looked around once more, but, frankly, she had no frame of comparison to know what the Archive was so surprised about. She’d quite literally seen a forest before.
she thought, narrowing her eyes and looking around nervously. If she imagined there was a giant bug behind every tree, atop every branch, camouflaged upside-down on the canopy of vines… well, she’d rather not imagine that.
the Archive said, shaking its little head.
The thought wasn’t quite reassuring, having experienced just how tough it was skating through one storm—there’d probably be several more she’d have to skate through if she couldn’t get someone to sail her to the city.
She shook her head and decided to focus. Right now, she just had to reach the end of this gargantuan forest.
For thirty more minutes, she continued skating diligently across the giant roots, staring at every alien plant for about ten seconds so the Archive could try to identify it. Inevitably, though, her stomach started growling. Grimacing, she rubbed her tummy and forced herself to move on. She was just as thirsty as well, having done strenuous amounts of exercise the past half a day, that was on top of eating thirteen points’ worth of salty shrimp meat without so much as a single sip of fresh water.
Without the Archive’s go-ahead, though, what could she do? Everything on this island, including the water, could be poison to her. She wasn’t in her cozy little desert town. If she ate something bad there, she could run back to her house, and her mama would have a custom-brewed medicine ready to soothe her stomach.
the Archive said, letting out a big sigh as it did.
Snapping to attention, she looked around until she saw what it was talking about: a white, fleshy lump sitting half-submerged in a relatively small pond, just a bit off to the side. She immediately hopped off the root she was skating on, then skipped over—looking around once more for safety measures—before poking the lump with the tip of her glaive, trying to see if it’d burst.
Tentatively, she looked around for any possible predators just one last time before placing her palms flat against the giant, fleshy lump. It was as squishy to the touch as its rubbery skin suggested, which meant when she dug her nails in to tear out a small, juicy chunk, her mouth started salivating immediately. She to eat. The chunk looked like it had both meaty substance and water in one whole package—so, with the Archive’s blessing, she stuffed the whole thing in her mouth and chewed as fast as she could.
Disappointingly, it didn’t taste much like anything at all. It looked almost doughy and bread-like on the inside, and it had the texture of sticky sap with all the flavor dried out by the sun. Still, over the course of the next half hour or so, she practically devoured the entire lump until only the base of it was left. Then she knelt, cupped a mouthful of spring water, and brought it to her lips. At least the water tasted like water, and it was to boot, too.
The water was definitely safe to drink.
[Points: 0 → 61]
She paused when a status screen popped up next to her face, blinking at the words, and the Archive was quiet for a few seconds, too.
the Archive mumbled, sounding just as confused.
Neither she nor the Archive had the luxury of pointing and staring at the status screen, though. The sound was abrupt. A sharp noise that crackled through the air—it reminded her of alcohol kegs with their lids popping off. She’d heard that sound many, many times. Mainly on merry festival nights where she’d entertain the children with her dances and the adults celebrated with wine and brined meat.
It was the sound of civilization.
the Archive said, as she raced away from the devoured fruit and skated across the roots, heading straight for the source of the sound.
And she burst out the other end of the gargantuan forest quicker than she’d thought. She came face to face with the endless seas, a sandy beach, and, uniquely in this location, a small harbor-like outpost. It was built on a rocky outcrop, right on the beach. A massive ship with its sails tied down was docked deep into the harbor, and her eyes immediately glimmered with hope.
This was better than anything she could’ve asked for.
Still, she didn’t wobble awkwardly out of the forest immediately, though. Hunched behind a tree at the edge of the forest, she counted about twenty humanoid silhouettes. They were boisterous, partying around the harbor, singing and dancing with whole kegs of alcohol in their hands. They really were celebrating a fair distance away—about thirty meters off from where she was—so she wanted to get a closer look at them. The Archive wasn’t telling her off, so… this be fine.
She was just trying to get a better look.
After all, it just be a trick of the mind, but she swore their limbs and proportions were particularly strange—
She stepped on a branch.
The partying silhouettes somehow heard the noise and turned.
Their heads were wide and flat on top, each of them with a bright orange pincer for a hand. Beneath their rugged grey robes were bulky plates of chitin. They jiggled like jelly when they turned.
She felt she’d seen their heads somewhere before.
They were like… ‘crabs’?
Crab-headed people?
[Objective #3: Run from the Blackclaw Marauders before they turn you into crab bait]
[Time Limit: Undefined]
[Reward: Survival]
[Failure: Painful, gruesome death]