The Dark Wood of Error [Open]
Who: Robin Hood, anyone who's visiting the Southern Forest
When: Midday, May 4th
Where: Southern District, deep within the forest
What: An outlaw appears! Confused about his surroundings, missing his friends, and wanting answers, Robin reacts by laying traps. Because why not.
It had seemed the end for them all.
Djaq had said it would take mere hours before they succumbed to the unbearable, Arabian heat. They were tied, back to back, arms above their heads and made to stand in the middle of the desert, awaiting the exposure to the sun to drive them mad and eventually kill them.
And Robin had closed his eyes and accepted this, apologizing to his friends for leading them into a horrible death, hundreds of miles from home.
But a cool breeze startled him from his thoughts, brushing playfully against his sweat-drenched face, and suddenly the man dropped to his hands and knees, no longer held up by his wrists and instead left to fall. Thinking at first someone unsuspecting had come along to cut him loose, Robin lay a moment, basking uncertainly in the chilly undergrowth beneath the trees of Nautilus, lying amidst comfortable dirt and leaves....dirt and leaves?
Shade...there shouldn't have been shade, either. And the voices of his friends had left him, grown quiet until at last fading away to be replaced by the distinctive trilling of birds, high above his head.
Robin Hood opened his eyes, and stared up at Nautilus' sky. He was alone, and in a place wholly unfamiliar to him.
"If this is death," he began aloud, sitting up. "Then it's much nicer than I'd thought it would be."
No...it had to be a hallucination, brought on by the excess temperatures. But then...why was he feeling so comfortable? And who had instructed him to wake?
He needed answers. And he knew just the way to get them, too.
With that, Robin set about with a coil of rope, laying it under an unobtrusive gathering of leaves and rigging it with precision and care. When sprung, the rope would seize around the ankle of the unlucky visitor, pulling their leg up high into the air, flipping them around and hoisting them upside down to be left at the mercy of the outlawed Locksley man.
Finishing up quite easily, Robin snuck around one of the trees, promising that the dark browns and greens of his worn clothing would keep him sufficiently hidden from sight.
He clutched onto his tall, double-curved bow, and knelt down to wait.
When: Midday, May 4th
Where: Southern District, deep within the forest
What: An outlaw appears! Confused about his surroundings, missing his friends, and wanting answers, Robin reacts by laying traps. Because why not.
It had seemed the end for them all.
Djaq had said it would take mere hours before they succumbed to the unbearable, Arabian heat. They were tied, back to back, arms above their heads and made to stand in the middle of the desert, awaiting the exposure to the sun to drive them mad and eventually kill them.
And Robin had closed his eyes and accepted this, apologizing to his friends for leading them into a horrible death, hundreds of miles from home.
But a cool breeze startled him from his thoughts, brushing playfully against his sweat-drenched face, and suddenly the man dropped to his hands and knees, no longer held up by his wrists and instead left to fall. Thinking at first someone unsuspecting had come along to cut him loose, Robin lay a moment, basking uncertainly in the chilly undergrowth beneath the trees of Nautilus, lying amidst comfortable dirt and leaves....dirt and leaves?
Shade...there shouldn't have been shade, either. And the voices of his friends had left him, grown quiet until at last fading away to be replaced by the distinctive trilling of birds, high above his head.
Robin Hood opened his eyes, and stared up at Nautilus' sky. He was alone, and in a place wholly unfamiliar to him.
"If this is death," he began aloud, sitting up. "Then it's much nicer than I'd thought it would be."
No...it had to be a hallucination, brought on by the excess temperatures. But then...why was he feeling so comfortable? And who had instructed him to wake?
He needed answers. And he knew just the way to get them, too.
With that, Robin set about with a coil of rope, laying it under an unobtrusive gathering of leaves and rigging it with precision and care. When sprung, the rope would seize around the ankle of the unlucky visitor, pulling their leg up high into the air, flipping them around and hoisting them upside down to be left at the mercy of the outlawed Locksley man.
Finishing up quite easily, Robin snuck around one of the trees, promising that the dark browns and greens of his worn clothing would keep him sufficiently hidden from sight.
He clutched onto his tall, double-curved bow, and knelt down to wait.