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Old 06-08-2017, 11:38 AM   #44
Maskerade
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Join Date: Jun 2017
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Quote:
Originally Posted by 134 View Post

Maskerade:
The graveyard is densely overgrown, and densely packed with mausoleums, around and between which you and Munchlax weave, you with trepidation and he with hungry determination. The site is quite verdant and were it not for the eerie reputation and cloying fog it might even be beautiful;
moss grows on the stone surfaces of crypts and in the crevices of tree bark,
while flowering vines find purchase seemingly everywhere.

Passing by a large tree -- a thick, ancient Apricorn tree -- you take note of something peculiar: an arrow, driven into its trunk about ten feet above your head. It has a wooden shaft and large, green leaves for fletching; when you notice it, it strikes you as highly unusual, but it blends in with the foliage around it, and you're afraid that if you looked away from it for too long, you might not be able to find it again in the surrounding greenery.

A few yards away from where you stand, looking up at the arrow, Munchlax has found something of interest, however. Head shoved into an overgrown Bluk Berry bush, he roots loudly through the leaves, seemingly oblivious to the fat, ripe berries around him; whatever he's trying to reach but be more interesting than mere fruit. Is it more interesting than the odd arrow? Should you risk it? What will you do?
((Thank you for picking me up 134!! ^^))

Well, I’ll be... This can’t possibly be a good omen.

Inherent to his profession, Rorik was both observant and capable of quick assessment. What others would have easily missed – or dismissed – as natural part of their surroundings, the Professor swiftly identified as a foreign object, albeit smartly concealed.

This arrow was intentionally camouflaged. Whoever fired it knew what they were doing; if another comes flying through, will I even be able to spot it in time?

Already, questions were popping up much faster than he could answer them, and he’d only been exploring the graveyard for a few minutes. Was it his professional curse, being unable to simply go where life took him without asking questions? Were regular Trainers and Coordinators also haunted by these many doubts and insecurities?

Who’d fired that arrow? And for what purpose? If it was meant as a deterrent, then it made no sense to hide it in foliage; and if it was meant to hit a target, it was a safe bet that the archer had missed its mark, unless that was a practice shot – why else would anyone intentionally pierce a trunk?

This is all conjectural, derivative. The one question that absolutely must be answered is: are we in danger?

Immediately, his gaze shifted from the arrow to his bumbling partner, a gift from Gottfried that – at least for now – felt more like punishment: Munchlax.
The ravenous little bear was as airheaded as always, completely distracted by a nearby bush filled to the brim with ripe-looking Berries. Luring him away from the meal would be a daunting task no doubt… if Munchlax displayed any interest at all in the fruits. For some reason, something else seemed to be drawing its attention!

What overpowering discovery could deter him from food, of all things? This I must see!

It was in his nature to be overly cautious at all times - which made it all the more ironic just how quickly he was willing to outright ignore the ominous arrow. Trapped between the mighty allure of scientific discovery (what could possibly look more appealing to a Munchlax than easily accessible Berries?) and the common sense of self-preservation, Rorik ultimately opted to sate his curiosity, risks be damned. He wouldn’t mindlessly continue waltzing willy-nilly about the area, of course, but he couldn’t walk away from this mystery either…

Emulating what he’d seen countless times in war movies, Professor Pine got down on the ground and crawled his way over to Munchlax, hoping to remain out of sight of whoever might have fired the first arrow – if anyone else was even there to begin with. Ruining his lab coat in the process, Rorik moved slowly and clumsily across the dusty floor of the graveyard, firmly establishing he was definitely not a man of action.

“Hey! Hey, Munchlax,” whispered the Professor as he approached, hoping the gluttonous fool would pay him the slightest bit of attention. “Get down! Are you even listening? We may not be alone out here!”

Alas, his pleas were to no avail. Munchlax continue foraging through the foliage, fascinated by whatever it was that had grabbed its attention so thoroughly and completely…
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