Canen hadn't been around for the nightmareish Red Fever event, but he had heard enough about it that he understood its consequences well enough. Those who had participated had faced unspeakable trials that eventually claimed the lives of at least nine players. This would serve as a permanent reminder to him that this place would not offer an immersive experience without cost. Terrasphere would allow its players power and abilities, but there would one day be a price to pay for these.
Irrespective of this, though, Osiris felt only the pull of the game. Despite making Eastern Brisshal his home for the majority of his short time here, there was a job to be done in Astorea that would finally allow him to get involved in the world proper. The destination was well out of his comfort zone, and the journey felt like it had aged him years, but he was finally here.
It was clear to see why the Astorean government needed the help of outsiders.
What the event, and the subsequent ape attack, had cost Camp Nisus was dire. The once bustling MIT camp had been decimated. Within the wooden perimeter, a great field of shrapnel and debris lay in its place. Years of work and growth was in danger of being rendered meaningless. As Canen stepped over pieces of splintered wood and bits of tattered material, he could see where the tents on stilts had once stood before. The mushroom house ahead, which was the centrepiece of the MIT presence here, gave off a pervasive odor of rot; an overwhelming and acrid smoky scent in its place. Surrounding this decaying structure, while come stone walls remained, the timber structures had been nearly altogether erased.
No building, bar the mushroom house, had been left upright entirely and none looked capable of sustaining life as they stood. Even the fields of grass on the adjacent hill had been painted uniformly gray with drifts of ash and dirt coating them.
Walking back towards the expedition behind him, Osiris dragged a toe through a tall heap of debris. A little glimmer caught his eye; a piece of metal. Reflexively, the monk picked up the little metal object from the wreckage. This little widget never made its way to him fully, as Canen jumped back and turned away at the horror. It was a tool, still wrapped on one end by a macabre mix of charred flesh and bone. The hand was unmistakable; he wouldn't look a second time to confirm.
"Found something?"
The voice came from the expedition, but Canen wasn't sure who.
"Nothing, no." His eyes watered as he looked down at his shoes, certain that his feet offered no answers. The stall allowed him to breathe a moment to avoid speaking in a cracked voice. "There's an incredible amount of work to be done here. Let's start by getting a list together of what needs to be cleared and fixed, and then after that we can think about resources. Be mindful that there might still be bodies in the debris – they will need to be buried or moved away from here. Preferably before that hits us. "
He pointed to menacing, cumbersome clouds overhead. They looked as if they would soon unleash rain on Camp Nisus, which would only serve to mix the debris and mud into an awful, foul swill that would only serve to impede their progress.
Irrespective of this, though, Osiris felt only the pull of the game. Despite making Eastern Brisshal his home for the majority of his short time here, there was a job to be done in Astorea that would finally allow him to get involved in the world proper. The destination was well out of his comfort zone, and the journey felt like it had aged him years, but he was finally here.
It was clear to see why the Astorean government needed the help of outsiders.
What the event, and the subsequent ape attack, had cost Camp Nisus was dire. The once bustling MIT camp had been decimated. Within the wooden perimeter, a great field of shrapnel and debris lay in its place. Years of work and growth was in danger of being rendered meaningless. As Canen stepped over pieces of splintered wood and bits of tattered material, he could see where the tents on stilts had once stood before. The mushroom house ahead, which was the centrepiece of the MIT presence here, gave off a pervasive odor of rot; an overwhelming and acrid smoky scent in its place. Surrounding this decaying structure, while come stone walls remained, the timber structures had been nearly altogether erased.
No building, bar the mushroom house, had been left upright entirely and none looked capable of sustaining life as they stood. Even the fields of grass on the adjacent hill had been painted uniformly gray with drifts of ash and dirt coating them.
Walking back towards the expedition behind him, Osiris dragged a toe through a tall heap of debris. A little glimmer caught his eye; a piece of metal. Reflexively, the monk picked up the little metal object from the wreckage. This little widget never made its way to him fully, as Canen jumped back and turned away at the horror. It was a tool, still wrapped on one end by a macabre mix of charred flesh and bone. The hand was unmistakable; he wouldn't look a second time to confirm.
"Found something?"
The voice came from the expedition, but Canen wasn't sure who.
"Nothing, no." His eyes watered as he looked down at his shoes, certain that his feet offered no answers. The stall allowed him to breathe a moment to avoid speaking in a cracked voice. "There's an incredible amount of work to be done here. Let's start by getting a list together of what needs to be cleared and fixed, and then after that we can think about resources. Be mindful that there might still be bodies in the debris – they will need to be buried or moved away from here. Preferably before that hits us. "
He pointed to menacing, cumbersome clouds overhead. They looked as if they would soon unleash rain on Camp Nisus, which would only serve to mix the debris and mud into an awful, foul swill that would only serve to impede their progress.
