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Test Drive Meme #1
May. 25th, 2018 12:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xenomods Test Drive Meme #1 Main Community | Communications Community | OOC Community Premise | Rules | FAQ | Character Choices | Reserves | Applications | Taken | Hiatus | Drops Setting | Mechs | Upgrades | Merc Missions | Suggestions | Mod Contact GuidelinesThe Training Grounds are not, historically, a busy place, and normally cover far more ground than they need to. Counselors send the Mirages who come through down there to acclimate themselves to their new ability in the sprawling range, whether it be against target dummies or targets for arrows or bullets or even against an old retired Driver named Griscol who still knows a thing or two about his Blade. But the sudden influx of Mirages has the Sparring Grounds overwhelmed and chaotic. As the counselors and Griscol scramble about trying to give their pupils pointers, Mirages can line up at the practice dummies, take a spot behind the firing line, or match up with each other to get some practical hands-on experience. One of the counselors has a healing Art, so anyone who gets hurt won't remain so for too long. Ask for tips, practice your arts, or get some sparring done with your fellow Mirages. Shnids are a pestilence and plague on Pumonia, and have been as far back as history exists. Looking like a cross between a squirrel and a rabbit and about the size of a medium-large dog, shnids devour crops voraciously and without restraint. Worse till, though they appear cute and harmless, shnids are savage aggressors who hurl themselves at any living being who comes near and deliver however many painful chomps with their powerful jaws are needed to send that other creature running. Consequently, the counselors at the Mirage Welcome Home always encourage new Mirages to take on the Shnid Hunt mission from the merc boards -- both because shnids are not terrible dangerous foes, and because sometimes new Mirages need to learn that even the cutest and cuddliest of Newase's wildlife won't hesitate to lunge for their throat, no matter how gently that Mirage is just trying to usher them away so no one gets hurt. Venture out into the vast, verdant fields of Pumonia, team up to take down ten of the beasts, and earn your first pay as a Mirage. Tumultuous storms roll off the sea with some frequency, part of why Pumonia is so fertile, but as residents depart for Tyrus and leave empty farms and plots behind, those storms bring a greater danger as well. A bolt of lightning has lit an abandoned house on fire, and despite the pounding rain the entire structures blazes brilliantly in the storm-dark twilight. The flames strain and leap, eager to jump from the roof and chimney of the house to the nearby barn, and from there into a knot of buildings around a broad river. Even with water pouring from the sky, the fire seems unstoppable... But this is Newase, and all things are governed by the ogre. One peeks out of the flames even now, a great mass about half the size of the building and all swirling energy. To call it the fire itself is both accurate and entirely wrong; it is the ogre that governs the spread of this fire, and should some heroes destroy it, the fire will no longer be able to spread... By day, the view through the windows of sonic railcar is an awe-inspiring sight. Terrain blurs past so quickly the eye can't resolve it. Great sections of the highlands where few have ever ventured on foot sprawls out, offering sights of exotic creatures and curious vistas nestled too far away for safety. Occasionally the train passes a Mech, a rare chance to see some of the hardest-working patrollers on Metta. But this one travels at night, so the countless miles flashing past outside are all uniform darkness. The cars are well-lit, making napping a struggle, but even so other passengers do their best to doze, huddled up against the windows with jackets or pillows over their eyes. Then the car jolts, and the ogre that is its heart gives out a grumbling little noise. Deceleration presses you sharply into your seats as the whole vehicle slows, not by braking or friction but by the will of the ogre itself. And then all is silent. "Best Rates for Mirages!" read the sign. "Finest hot springs in land! Fresh breakfast!" Whether because of the promises or simply the late hour and its convenience, you showed up at the front counter of this inn to receive a key from its helpful Nopon proprietor -- only to find yourself wedged into a tiny, dark room with an uncomfortable pair of beds and an involuntary roommate. But the hot springs are real -- considering the boilers that warm the water chug away constantly right next door, that fact is indisputable. Do you go enjoy them as the sole comfort your stay has brought you, or spend the night commiserating over what the 'fresh breakfast' is going to be? Newase is a grand place, and the isle of Metta vast and rich with opportunity... |
