What's Happening?

[Skyblade]

OOC: Post yourself waking up in one of these three locations:

1. Near Redwall
2. Mossflower Woods
3. Salmandastron

And please state in bold at the top of your post which one you're in.

I'm going to post later; I'm tired right now and just wanted to get this thread up for y'all.

EDIT: I will also update this first post with who is in which group, so we can even out numbers.

Group 1
Skyblade
Aimless Gallivanter
Lord Ashenwyte
Cornflower MM

Group 2
Groddil
Wylder Treejumper
LT Sandpaw
Thomas Barkshield
Kitsune

Group 3
BatLord
Skarzs
Faiyloe
Dotti Lovegood

[Groddil]

GROUP 2 - Mossflower

"Gah!"
Groddil sat up, looking around nervously. Trees. So many trees. He looked down at himself, eyes wide with shock. I didn't think I was this hairy, he thought nervously. Wait, is that a tail?
"What the..."
He stood up and jogged towards a nearby puddle. He stared at his reflection in the puddle. A fox. He was a fox. He felt a small, rather annoying become lodged in the back of his mind, telling him that this wasn't right, but he dismissed the idea. He focused on his memories, very hazy. All he remembered was waking up. And a name. Groddil. Was that his name? Had to be. Shrugging, Groddil figured he needed to find food and shelter. But why did he think that? Something really wasn't right, but he couldn't place his finger, or claw, on it just yet. He was gathering sticks for a fire when he noticed a skeleton of a hare crumpled in the roots of a large tree. A rough belt was wrapped around the skeleton's waist, in which a dagger had been thrust. Lying next to it was a longbow and a quiver of arrows. Ignoring how convenient it was, or how the poor creature had got there in the first place, he took the weaponry and vanished into the brush.

[W0NWILL]

GROUP 3 - SALAMANDASTRON

The sun hung high in the sky, it's unforgiving gaze beating down mercilessly on the broad shore and the back of the lonely shrewmaid standing in the surf. The light caught on the waves, nearly blinding the poor beast as she stared out onto the sea. The beautiful view was marred only by the tears that blurred her vision. The smell of fish hung heavy in the air, reminding her all too much of home.

Bat, for that was her name(or, at least, the only one she could remember), rubbed a paw over her eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She didn't like crying. She preferred keeping her emotions bottled up until they burst forth all at once over the littlest of things. That was the healthy way to deal with them. But she had no idea what was going on here, having just woken up after a salty wave crashed over her new muzzle, and sure, she daydreamed all the time about suddenly waking up in another world, more magical than her old one, but now that such a thing had happened, well, she had no idea what to do.

Her feet, or paws they were now, were getting cold, but she didn't want to step out of the waves just yet. She knew that the sand would stick to her wet paws and itch something fierce, and that sand that had been baking under a mid-afternoon sun would be scorching, and her shoes had not made the trip with her. Pity. They were nice shoes. Waterproof. She would even settle for her sandals, which, while not waterproof, were high-quality and would protect the bottoms of her feet. Bat looked up, staring again at the mountain not all that far away, maybe an hour's walk for a slow creature like herself. Standing on the shoreline all by itself, it was an imposing sight, and again, the name rose unbidden to her mind. Salamandastron. It was a good place, she somehow knew, an important one. It was also the only visible landmark for as far as she could see, the only break from the rolling sand dunes. So where else could she go? Bat habitually ran her paw through her spiky headfur, and began walking. Maybe Salamandastron would help her.

[The Skarzs]

GROUP 3 - SALAMANDASTRON



  Skarzs shifted uncomfortably in his sleep, trying to find a better position so he could relax. The bed beneath him moved with him, and he blinked in confusion. It was so bright out, and the air smelled of saltwater. Where the heck. . . ?
  He sat up with a start, breathing heavily and tensed up. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, Skarzs just stared out over the landscape in disbelief. He was sat upon a sandy dune with nothing but coarse grass on its surface, and around him were countless other rolling dunes much like his own. Way off in the distance was a dark spot that rose against the skyline. Rubbing his eyes in an attempt to rid them of sleep, Skarzs pulled them away in sudden horror.
  "What?" he breathed through his tight throat. These . . . Were his hands?
  He looked upon a pair of grayish-blonde fur-covered. . . paws. They were thick and scarred like he felt they should be, and they had retractable thumbs, but they were not what they should have been. Neither was his head, as he put his paws to it, which had two furred ears and a blunt muzzle. These did not bother Skarzs much, as he was too busy gripping his head and trying to figure the scenario out.
  "What is this?" he hissed. "What? How am I here? What is going on?"
  He slammed his right paw into the sand, feeling the pain it caused. This was no dream. As he tried to stand up, his unfamiliar feet gave out beneath him, and the long tail that stretched behind him twitched about as if it had a life of its own. Pounding the ground with his fists in frustration, Skarzs growled, revealing sharp teeth, as he tried to stand up again. After a moment, he discovered his legs to not be as strange as he had first thought. They were . . . somehow different, though how, he had no idea, but his tail seemed to help with balancing.
  Though he was still breathing heavily and his thoughts were a jumble of confusion and anger, Skarzs decided just to start moving. So he began to walk, then to walk faster, and then to run. The land flashed around him unnoticed, only the next steps in front of him getting any attention from the sprinting cougar. It did nothing to clear his mind, but he didn't care. He didn't care if he was getting tired, or that he was thirsty. The constant thought that matched the beat of his steps was the only thing he knew.
  What is this? What is this? What is this?
  Finally, Skarzs's dragging feet caught a lump of dune grass, and he went sprawling head over tail down the side of the dune, where he lay with chest heaving and eyes closed.
  "Must. . . move. Move, c'mon, move!" Spittle foamed through his teeth as Skarzs turned himself over and stayed in a bowed position for a long while. . . He knew it was time to stop and think. Running himself ragged was foolish. With a sigh of irritation at his own lack of memory and knowledge, Skarzs sat down and waited for himself to calm down.

[Faiyloe]

GROUP 3 - SALAMANDASTRON

Faiy felt hot, to hot. The sudden change of temperature and light was enough to snap her out of slumber. She sat bolt upright with a shriek and looked around wildly in confusion, a dazed expression on her face. She squinted in the bright light and rubbed her bleary eyes before she remembered something and began to look about in the sand next to her. To her relief she soon found a pair of crystal glasses, and after brushing them off she placed them on her face and looked around again. She found herself lying in the sand among tufts of dune grass in the low dip between three tall dune, beyond which she could see very little except for the vibrant blue sky and the punishing sun which, even after this short time, seemed to sear into her scalp.

She stood up and tried to shake the sand from her clothes the whole time complaining out loud to the surrounding about the nuisance of getting sand in her clothes and how it should be more considerate in the future. She suddenly froze mid sentence and became deathly quiet. Her ears had picked up the sound of approaching footsteps and they where getting closer fast. Her cheeks burned and she prayed that who ever it was had not just heard her talking to nothing.

She scrambled to the top of a dune on all fours, sand falling out from beneath her as she clawed her way up. She peered over the summit in time to see a very large creature trip and tumble down to the foot of an adjacent dune. He lay there panting mouth foaming. Faiy lay flat on her stomach and watched, afraid that if she made to much noise he would notice her, but he seemed to self absorbed, to warn out to notice. He looked viscous, almost barbaric, but the longer she watched she almost grew to pity him and something in the back of her mind was telling her she could trust him.

((OOC: I am not that well concealed if you decided to look about you would probably notice me, the landscape does not lend itself well to hiding XD XP))

[Dotti Dillworthy]

GROUP 3 - SALAMANDASTRON

  The majestic mountain, home of the legendary Badger Rulers and their gallant hares of the Long Patrol, stood as a backdrop against the tranquil blue sky above, which was decorated with swirls of white clouds. Seawaves chanted with all their gaiety to their usual churning rhythm, tossing some seaweeds to the white sandy shore. The late-morning sun radiated everything it touched on its warming rays. All was tranquil, until some noise broke its peaceful atmosphere. . .

  "Oh my barnacles! What's happened to me?! Am I not the jolly ol' meself now, wot?"

  Among the white sand dunes sat a young haremaid, who was staring at her paws, who had been formerly human hands in another world. Her ears, which was small and half-moon shaped, had obviously grown longer and now had reached a few inches above her head. Her shaggy fur was the same golden-brown as her formerly furless skin. She went on to gaze at herself in a little puddle nearby which provided reflection. Her face was not what she always was, which made her feel inferior.

  "A hare? Me? Oh my!" Her voice rattled with shock, then mingled with disappointment. "How can I go home like this?"

  The disgruntled haremaid scrambled around for her usual stuff, but in vain. Perhaps somebeast was stealing them while she was asleep? Her further shock multiplied when she realized she was walking strange, owing to the new set of footpaws she had given. And she stared at her clothes, which made her realized somebeast had changed her usual nightwear (which consisted a t-shirt and a pair of pyjamas) to a peasant dress fit for a maiden like her.

  Her paw strayed to the right pocket of her dirty-white apron which contained a little piece of folded parchment. It was written in a neat script: TO OUR DEAR MISS DOTTI. It dawned on the haremaid whether the parchment was addressed to her or not, as it came to her only recently on the other world when she got a new book of chronicles.

  Her mouth slowly formed the word she had read. "Dotti. My name is Dotti." She paused to ponder. But could it be the clue to my identity? Then she tossed some sand out into open air and declared, "Send me a sign! A sign which leads me home where I belong!"

[W0NWILL]

Bat's mouth had long since grown dry and parched, and though the sea next to her looked so refreshing, and made her thirstier than ever, she did not drink from it. She, despite all evidence to the contrary, was not completely idiotic, and knew better than to drink from the ocean. She was walking in the firm sand below the tideline, trying to keep her tired steps straight as she could. They weaved this way and that, but she plodded on, her dragged tail creating a small furrow in the sand, and her head bowed, but she plodded on.

At least until she heard the shout. Bat's head whirled towards the sand dunes, and she waited to hear some other noise to confirm her suspicions.

"Send me a sign! A sign shich leads me home where I belong!"

The declaration caused Bat to force an exclamation from her dry lips and start running as fast as she could inland, sand flying out from under her paws, but so intent on reaching the source of the voice. "Wait!" Her voice was hoarse, and she tried again, "wait! I'm here!" This time her words came out clearly, and she began running up the side of the sand dune, but slipped on the loose, dry sand and went tumbling down with a shriek, tail over ears.

[Skyblade]

OOC: PLEASE READ: We start out knowing nothing, except wisps and memories here and there that remind us that, hey, we don't belong here. But as the RP moves on, we remember more and more about our old lives. We start to recall how we lived and the things we liked. As we're about to go home, we gather all this knowledge, and know who we are before we leave. Also, we all have a bit of a nudge with the other forum members. Like, "Huh, seem familiar, but I don't know why".

Also, Group 3 (Salamandstron) is closed for now because we already have four people. If you really want to be in that group, I suggest asking me so you can claim a spot in it, because the average number per group is about five.

BIC: (GROUP ONE - NEAR REDWALL)

Something wasn't right. With a start, the young adult woke up in a forest she had never seen before.

For a few moments, she stood with her bare feet rooted in the dirt, blinking at the trees spread out around her. Birdsong reached her ears - the only thing that seemed familiar. Everything else was strange, new. As if realizing she was a badger for the first time, she stared down at her body.

"Woah, no, no, no," she murmured, scratching at her furry paws, "What is this? What is this nonsense?" Feeling panic settle in, the badger twirled around in circles, catching glimpses of a large, bushy, black-and-white tail.

"This can't be happening!" she said, then bit her lip. Who knew what danger was in these woods? Realizing that she had some weapons on her belt, the badger carefully unsheathed a rapier. She had always wanted to use one, but not like this.

A sob rose up her throat, and she didn't care who in this strange new world could hear. No, the badger told herself. Calm down. Let's see what's going on.

The badger leaned against a tree and looked over her arms, legs, and tail. Raising her paws, she felt her face. Somehow, none of this felt...right. She felt as if she should be in a different body, in a different world. Furrowing her brow, the badger paused to think.

Her mind was a blank slate with only one word written on it: Skyblade. That was her name, but it wasn't her real name. She didn't know how she knew - perhaps it was just one of her irrational feelings. But feelings could be strong, and this one wouldn't leave her alone.

"Agh," she groaned, her beast-like voice sounding unlike herself. The badger shook her head, which she covered with her paws.

"Let's calm down," she reiterated. "C'mon, Skyblade." Her new name hung uncomfortably in the air. "Let's get out of this predicament."

Had anyone been around, he would have witnessed a strange sight. First, he would have seen a badger pinch herself all over her fur, then ram her head into a tree several times. Then, he would have seen the same beast give herself a small cut with her rapier, raise her arm to sniff the blood, then lick it off. At last, he would have seen her pray and mumble random, sometimes incoherent things to herself.

No matter what Skyblade tried, the biting feeling within her seemed to be proving right. This wasn't a dream. Flustered, the badger leaned against a tree. The bark that scratched her back felt as real as ever as she spoke to the air.

"What's happening?"

[Aimless Gallivanter]

GROUP 1: NEAR REDWALL

Something was tickling her nose. Only half awake, she reached her hand up to brush her hair away, and the feeling of something much more than what she was expecting startled her awake. It wasn't hair; why would she think that? It was grass. Not that that was any better. She rubbed her face, surprised to find that she was still wearing her glasses. And covered in fur. She gasped, then mentally kicked herself and calmed down. Of course her face was covered in fur. "I'm a mouse, you idiot." Even saying it aloud, it seemed off. She looked around, she was in the middle of Mossflower woods. She couldn't remember how she had gotten there. The more she thought about it, in fact, the more she realized she hardly remembered anything at all. Her name was... Aimless Gallivanter? "What kind of a name is that?" She shrugged and stood up, dusting herself off. Sunlight filtered warmly through the trees. She searched the ground around herself for something, then stopped. Nothing was there, why would she think that? Something was off. She grew uneasy, and tried to remember more about herself. Her mind wasn't cooperating, memories evaded her grasp, like trying to remember a fading dream. Panic seeped in and she began to mumble to herself, her voice rising in pitch, "What's going on? What the heck is going on This isn't right this isnt right this isnt-" She cut herself off before she started crying, took a deep breath, and changed her tone. "This is fine. I can, um, I'll do something. You're fine, you're alright. You're alright." She took another look around. There seemed to be a path over there. "Follow the path! Find some answers. You've got this, Aimless Gallivanter." She started walking.

(OOC: ive decided to re-enact how I got my nickname, since it wasn't something I came up with. I'll allow the first beast I meet to bestow it upon me

EDIT: I moved myself to near Redwall, and @Skyblade. I hope that's alright.)

[Dotti Dillworthy]

  Dotti sighed as she sat on the rock amidst the crashing waves. She was still under her state of disbelief that she was standing in a world of strange familiarity. Of course it was familiar, but would she be ready to adjust and become used to it? It was probably unlikely that she would survive, for she was not yet ready to face unexpected enemies. Her doubts cleared up when she discovered a sling which lay abandoned among the smaller rocks. She picked it up and tested its elasticity, which brought relief that it still worked.

  Just then, a shout, most likely a response to her earlier cry, reverberated in the haremaid's comical ears. A new sense of curiosity dawned in her as she ran to the source. It took her a while before she found it: a shrew being tumbled down! For the first time ever since she realized she was in a different world, she giggled. Little by little, then slowly multiplying, and she stopped when she realized she forgot to greet the shrew.

[W0NWILL]

Bat rolled to a stop at the bottom of the slope, and sprawled out on the sand. She was absolutely covered, head to toe. Sand got stuck in fur so easily. Let's not have any fur anymore, how was that idea? A wonderful one! Just shave herself bald! That'll solve all of her problems! Not to say that she'd still be in this awful place with no idea who the heck she was and all alone except for a freaking bunny rabbit, who was laughing at her!

Bat was not in the best of moods at the moment.

She lay still, not wanting to get up. That would require effort. She glared up at the hare, "What ya laughin' at?" She demanded crossly, "I did that on purpose." It wasn't funny! Okay, maybe if she was an onlooker, she'd be laughing her tail off at the poor unfortunate soul on the ground, but it wasn't funny when she was the one stuck on the sand.

[Dotti Dillworthy]

  Dotti's giggles slowly died down as she went to greet the shrew. "Good day, chap. Excuse my jolly eccentricity, that was what happens when you're not careful with y'jolly old steps." Her reprimand turned to lament. "But where are we? I'm so bloomin' lost! I have lost my ol' sense of identity that I don't even know who I am!"

[W0NWILL]

Oh good lord, why couldn't she just speak-wait a minute! Bat scrambled to her paws, staring up at this hare and noting just how much height she had on her. Why'd she have to be a shrew? "Hold on a sec here," she held up her paws, trying to think, "you got no idea who you are? As in none?" She sucked in a breath between her teeth, eyes darting around, "I think we may got that in common. Y'see, I wake up in the water o'er dere, and I got no idea who I am or how that happened. All I can remember is me name being Bat, which makes no sense in the slightest. I'm not a bat. I'm a weird mouse thing. But me name's Bat. And that's sorta making me all confuzzled, 'cause if my name's Bat, shouldn't I be a bat? But I'm a shrew, and I dunno if I should be a shrew, because my name's Bat. Which I don't think a shrew would be named. And I don't feel like a shrew, not in the slightest..." She trailed off, having only confused herself more in trying to make sense of the whole thing.

[Wylder Treejumper]

OOC: My hugely overlong starting post!

BIC: Group 2- Mossflower Woods

The wind blew gently through the trees in Mossflower Woods, spreading the fragrant scent of wildflower blossoms. Sunshine dappled the ground through the leaves of the trees, casting a faint green tinge over the scene. Leaning up against a large oak was a squirrel, with dark red fur, and tufted ears. He was wearing a green tunic and a distinctive green hat with a red feather in the brim, reminiscent to some, perhaps, of the outfit of a certain Robin Hood. Both front paws were tucked behind his head and his hat had slipped down over his eyes, and he appeared to be dozing lightly and mumbling in his sleep. "It's the windup, and the pitch! He delivers- and it's a hard hit ball to center field!" Here he shifted slightly and his hat slipped down farther. He mumbled more animatedly, "The center fielder is back, back, back to the warning track, back to the wall- and it's good bye baseball!"

Suddenly, excitedly, he jumped to his feet. Rubbing his eyes and fixing his hat back in its proper place, he wondered aloud to himself, "Hmm, something about a walk-off home run?" He scratched his head contemplatively. That was when he noticed that his fur. Jumping slightly, totally startled, he noted, "That doesn't seem usual." But, unable to remember much of anything at all, other than a few snippets of a baseball game and endless amounts of writing- which seemed to twist themselves away from his mind even as he recalled them- he shrugged his shoulders and decided to make an inspection of his surroundings.

It was a warm day, very probably mid-early summer, and the sun was not high in the sky. He estimated it to be about 10 in the morning. The sky was a deep, vibrant blue, and  clear of clouds as far as the eye could see. Off to his right, to the north, he heard the sound of burbling water. The forest was made up of trees of many varieties, some he wasn't familiar with, but others, such as oaks and aspens, that he recognized immediately. They were very large, far larger than seemed to him usual, and appeared very old. This part of the forest, at least, showed no sign of ever having been logged. The undergrowth was quite light, and the forest floor was covered with a generous carpet of leaves. A thought flashed through his mind: Certainly nothing like any forest in Washington or Missouri. However, it was fleeting, and forgotten almost as soon as it came.

Turning his attention inward, he continued contemplating his confusing circumstances. No memory, no name... Wait, there was something. Wylder, that's right. Wylder Treejumper. In any case, not a wonderful situation. He rubbed behind his ear frustratedly. A squirrel. He knew he was a squirrel, and also that he wasn't supposed to be a squirrel.

Suddenly, he had an idea. He took and experimental jump, and found that he leaped more than three feet in the air. Exhilarated, he jumped high, turned a somersault in the air, landed and pushed into a cartwheel, leaped into a backflip and landed perfectly with both arms out. "Whoo hoo!" he shouted, exhilarated. Deciding to try out some more of his newfound abilities, he bounded neatly up the nearest tree, warily ventured out on a limb, and jumped off towards the next tree. Overextending, he nearly tumbled off the branch, but caught himself. After some experimentation, he got the hang of it, however, and was soon bounding through the branches. Spying a break in the trees and hearing the telltale sound of running water, he discovered a wide, flowing river. Impulsively, he jumped off his branch with a gleeful shout, turned a flip and dove into the river. You know, this really wasn't so bad, after all.

[Groddil]

Groddil, not having bothered to acknowledge the time, could not tell how long he'd been in these woods for. Survival instincts had kicked in, another of those hazy memories. He distinctively recalled voices, but could not tell what they were saying. He saw shadows in the corner of his vision, almost like visual cues. In relatively short time, he had stacked up a rough tripod of sticks and kindling under the boughs of a large oak. Another thought flashed through his mind: Wish there were matches. What in Hellgates was a match? What in Hellgates did Hellgates mean? He had no idea, but was starting to get a headache. The grey fox let out a loud sigh, before leaving the clearing, dagger in hand, searching for a way to light the fire.

</[?]\>

Some time later, Groddil re-emerged in the clearing, holding the dagger in one paw and a rather-messily butchered fish in the other. Fishing, he thought. Always so tedious...When did I fish last? Meh.
The task had taken quite a while, firing arrows into the river and trying to hit one of the creatures with them. At least he could retrieve the arrows. He sat down by the unlit fire and started to smash several rocks together until eventually he had gotten a small fire going.