On the Island: Ceremony and Escape

[bringmethatnpc]

The sound of thunder rumbles through the air, heralding an approaching storm--

--no, wait.

That's not thunder; that's the beating of drums.

It's a beautiful clear day on the island, just perfect for a ceremony and celebration, as the tribe prepares to send their chief to the gods.

Comments

[pirate_jack]

It's a long drop from the top of the cliff to the ground below, and Jack's wild shouts have plenty of time to echo loudly from the walls of the chasm as it narrows-- right up until the spit bridges the gap.

The pole bends oddly under the force of Jack's weight, but the strong green wood remains intact instead of breaking. Moss and plants go flying from stone walls as the spit scrapes along them, slowing and eventually coming to a stop.

Jack's heavier than the pole, however, and he tips to the side-- falling past the spit as the force of gravity unspins him from the rope like a child's toy.

Eventually, he's left dangling upside down in midair, with one loop of rope around his ankle still attached to the spit above.

[bringmethatnpc]

Nicely retrievable. And, they judge, nicely stuck there, for the moment.

Which means they really should go inform the others. The shaman and the warriors will want the duty of fetching the chief -- and, they both know even if they won't admit it, that little episode back there with the fruit is perhaps evidence of why the shaman and the warriors really ought to be the ones to get that duty.

"Ah-nee-nee," one says, resignedly.

"Aboogi," his friend replies, and together they head off.

[pirate_jack]

Leaving Jack hanging there still, but not for much longer. The pole may be strong throughout, but the ends are splintering against the rock. It jerks once, then a second time, sending a shiver down the rope.

Very distinctly, Jack says,

"Bugger."

There's a creak from above, and the pole gives way.




"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!"

He goes tumbling through the air, flailing wildly. There's a loud crash as he hits the first bridge, and another as he hits the second-- echoed by a thud from above as the pole hits the first bridge behind him, disgorging its fruit as neatly as though it had been picked clean.

A third bridge, then the fourth, and the fifth-- and by the time Jack hits the ground, he's slowed enough to only have the wind knocked out of him. Lying there, he looks up to see the pole falling at him like a spear-- and it rather acts like one as well, piercing the ground beside his head.

Jack stares up at the sky as a rain of melons scatters around him, and then all is quiet.

"Well, that was interesting."