September 2022 Test Drive Meme

[folkie]

SEPTEMBER 2022 TDM

INTRODUCTION

[ TDM Questions ★ Jump to Comments ★ Full Navigation ]
Welcome to Folkmore's monthly Test Drive Meme! Please feel free to test drive any and all characters regardless of your intent to apply or whether you have an invite or not.

All TDMs are game canon. You can choose to have your TDM thread be your introduction thread upon acceptance or start fresh. Each TDM will provide a scenario for how characters arrive in-game that particular month.

Playing TDMs will allow characters to immediately obtain canon items from homes especially weapons or other things they may have had on their person when they were pulled from their worlds! There will always be a prompt that provides some sort of "reward" to characters who complete certain tasks.

Current players are allowed to have in-game characters react to TDMs via the Network or make a log with the prompts. Current players are always encouraged to tag new people on the TDM!

TDM threads can be used for spoon spending at any time by characters accepted into the game.

[ Prompt One ★ Prompt Two]

GOLD WAS THE COLOUR

Content Warnings: mood-altering substances.

What a Wonderful Harvest

It's harvest season in Folkmore. Apples, squash, potatoes, onions, peaches, sweet corn... all manner of crops are ready to be gathered, and golden fields fall willingly before the scythe. The air has a chill to it that you can mostly ignore in the sun but runs deep when you stand in the shadows.

After arrival you will find yourself out in said fields, maybe a little disoriented but not in any danger. It's peaceful.

In the farmlands you might be able to hear music floating on the wind. Follow it, or just wander by accident, and you'll find yourself coming upon what looks like some kind of costume party: people dressed up in cloth and vegetables - mostly gourds as masks - are singing and dancing around an enormous pole surmounted by the biggest Jack-O-Lantern you've ever seen.

The pumpkin people seem shy, but they won't turn you away if you wish to join their celebration - there are other Star Children like yourself here, and you might feel a little more comfortable with them. At least you can see their real faces. You can drink some apple cider and carve some pumpkins yourself if you like, or help out by husking some corn.

At some point, you will become aware of the fact that the dancers have stopped, and the object they've been dancing around has moved. The Jack-O-Lantern is looking at you.

The pumpkin king leans down, eternally smiling.

"Trick or treat?" he asks you in a deep voice. You'll have to pick one!

"TRICK."

The partygoers all watch you carefully. The lord of the harvest appears to think for a moment, then nods his massive head. One of the veggie dancers approaches you with a tray upon which are five cups of cider.

"Pick your poison," you're told, and you can only hope it's not literal!

Four of the cups of cider will have no effect whatsoever. But the fifth?

That fifth cup of cider makes you feel more social. Less reserved. Downright friendly, even. You want to talk and joke with people even if that isn't normally something you'd do. You might even join the vegetable dancers for a spin, and drag someone else along with you! Your judgment isn't quite impaired, but your inhibitions are definitely lowered. Might be a quick way to make some new friends, though!

"TREAT."

You are offered a large basket, held so that you cannot see inside. After some fumbling, you pull something out. What is it? It's an envelope. Or a cassette tape. Or a photograph. It might be the mixed tape you created for your high school crush, the poem you wrote about your broken heart, the letter you never mailed to your estranged father. It's something personal that is connected to someone from home somehow. As you hold it in your hands, you will feel an irresistible urge to explain it to the person next to you no matter how embarrassing or painful it might be. You can only hope that they aren't a colossal dick about it.

HELL WAS THE JOURNEY

Content Warnings: aggressive dogs, decapitated spectres, potential violence.

GET AHEAD

The sun sets earlier and earlier every day, but that doesn't mean there's suddenly nothing to do! The warm lights of homes all over Folkmore welcome people inside for parties. Of course, the Spirit People of Folkmore are rarely humanoid, so you may find yourself at a dance for frogs or a cocktail party for round fuzzy critters with giant eyes. Regardless of what kind of creatures you wind up partying with, they are excellent hosts!

When food has been had and drinks are flowing, someone suggests a time honoured tradition: the telling of ghost stories.

The guests take turns, spinning tales both familiar and not. One such tale is that of the Horseman and his Hounds.

This, the storyteller insists, is a true tale, and is as follows:

Folkmore is home to many Spirit People, and many other creatures besides. While most of these wish only to live their lives, there are certain powers that Thirteen leaves to their own devices, no doubt for reasons all her own. When the autumn harvests come and the leaves burn with colour and fall to the ground, the dominant spirit of lonely places is the apparition of a figure on horseback, without a head. Some versions of the story claim the horseman's head is carried before him on the pommel of his saddle, while others say instead the spirit carries a lit Jack-O-Lantern in place of it... and wishes to find a more suitable replacement. No matter the variation, the rest of the legend is the same: in autumn, on lonely roads, unlucky travelers will hear the baying of hounds. Moments later they will see the Horseman upon his stallion, and then the unholy troop will pursue the hapless travelers across hill and valley.

Some tales are told of Star Children fighting off the spectral hounds and challenging the Horseman to a fight, with varying levels of success. All are in agreement, however, that the sure method of survival is to escape over running water. Easy enough in some parts of Folkmore... less so if you happen to be caught out in the desert of Cruel Summer.

All parties must end, and this one does too, which means you now have to make your way home. Not that you're scared or anything, but maybe it's wise to walk with someone else tonight...

Not that it matters. Ultimately you and your companion will find yourself on a lonely stretch of road somewhere, and just as you've managed to convince yourselves that nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen you hear it.

The Hounds.

Turn and you'll see them, dark and sleek, and beyond them their infernal master. Atop a gleaming black stallion, the Horseman is gigantic in height and muffled in a cloak.

Whether you run or stand and fight is entirely up to you. As if to make it more of a fair fight, there are weapons hidden off the road - stumble into a ditch and you might find a rifle or a sword. The Hounds have very sharp teeth but they themselves cannot be injured - if struck they simply turn to black smoke and vanish. The Horseman cannot be killed - he has no head! - but if you fight him to a standstill he will reward you with the gift of something from your homeworld. This can be a weapon or magical item.

If you manage to cross a stream or a river, the spectres will vanish with howling and laughter.

ODDS BODKINS

You're likely to be shaken up after your encounter, so it's relief when you see that there's a bonfire lit not far past the water you've crossed. Perched all around it are a bunch of different owls, many wearing hats. They all swivel their heads to look at you before they hoot and gesture for you to come near. There, set up to one side of the bonfire, is a long low table laden with drinks in many different colours and little cakes and cookies. You always thought owls ate mice, but whooo's to say? Hoo? Get it? On another low table are supplies for patching people up in case your fight with the Horseman got a little intense! The owls don't have hands, but maybe there's a kind stranger nearby who'd be willing to help you? Or maybe you just want to talk to someone who has their head on right!

Comments

Pike Trickfoot | Critical Role | Legend, prob

[trickfoot]

[ gold was the color ]

The fields felt like her grandfather's garden back in Westruun. The small crop of potatoes, the big pumpkins he would grow; her tiny hands helping him dig them out when his hands became too gnarled with age. As she made her way towards the music she was hearing, more memories came - Grog helping rip out the entire corn stalks as they withered as the season drawing to a close, carving small gourds for the harvest festivals back home.

It's nice to join in, finding her own cup of cider and mingling about. Pike is sociable despite the armor she wears; it's too hard to take off right away, but with a smile on her face and bright eyes she's clearly nicer than what she appears.

She mulls over the Jack-O-Lantern's question carefully. It's simple, but she doesn't know the outcome.

"Trick." She's a Trickfoot, afterall. She still had a bit of that in her blood.

The tray is presented to her, and part of her wished Grog were here to pick the best one. With a discerning eye, she picked one, drinking it quickly. She doesn't feel anything at first, but she starts to feel happier, she wants to mingle more and she wants to dance. Oh, she wants to dance! She turns, finding the nearest group of people. "Dance with me? It'll be fun!"


[ hell was the journey ]

The parties were a blast - she thought she was partying with rabbits at one point, or were they cats? She had drank a bit too much at that point to really recognize who was what. Pike loved ghost stories, so when the locals were telling them of the hounds, she was riveted. Granted, she's seen her own share of "ghost stories" in person, but legends like this were just tales, right?

Cue walking back that night, cue the hounds, cue the Horseman.

Pike grasped at her holy symbol around her neck. "Stay back!"

[ odds bodkins ]


She's not shaken up - but she is a bit tired. Casting magic - divine or arcane - took a lot from the caster, and to see the bonfire up ahead was a boon. "A short rest would be nice..."

She converses with the Owls for a bit, maybe more talking on her end than anything, as she's working out what exactly went on in her mind. This place felt a bit like Exandria, like home, and she thought that she'd fit pretty well in here (not that she didn't trust what the Fox said, but well, it's a fox and they're tricksy for a reason).

It's then she heard footsteps, someone else walking toward the fire. "You didn't get caught up with the Horseman, did you? Are you hurt?"

hell was the journey

[ausgebrannt]

Caleb has learned that there is a lot of truth to be found in stories, and since he spends as much time as possible trying to piece together what he can about this place, of course he's here. Besides, there are regular influxes of new folk, and he is willing to help how he can.

Honestly he's half expecting the ghosts from the stories to show up, and here they are. He hears the baying of the hounds just a moments before he hears a yell.

Oh well, here is this. "This looks like trouble," he opines from just behind the gnome, softly accented voice a bit tense. "Do you prefer fighting or fleeing?" He's already summoning up a spell regardless since it will be useful for both options. Several magic projectiles suddenly shoot from his hands to strike straight into the leading three hounds, and Caleb looks surprised when they all dissipate into smoke. Magic Missile is not nearly strong enough to one-shot kill anything. The hounds are not real hounds.

[trickfoot]

When the arcane magics of Caleb's Magic Missile do so much damage, Pike's impressed. "Well that certainly worked."

Sending a silent prayer to Sarenrae, she clutched at her holy symbol, the bright light shining through her fingers. She lifted her hand to the sky, then launched her own guiding bolt towards one of the other creatures, and it literally disintegrates. "The last time I hit that hard with that spell I was fighting a dragon."

She'll let that sink in a moment. "Maybe we fight?"

[ausgebrannt]

"Maybe we fight," Caleb agrees, sounding just slightly skeptical. It feels too easy, and he wonders a bit if the figure on horseback will be so easily dispatched. But he recognizes divine nature of the spell that the small armored woman throws, and if one has to battle a ghost story, he figures perhaps a cleric is the best sort of ally to have.

For now though, he hurls a firebolt at the next nearest hound, watching the cantrip also send the hellish looking canine into a smoky wisp of nothing. Well, that means he won't be wasting spells. He can live with that.

"I am not sure their boss will be so easily dispatched though." So running? Still on the table if they need to.

[trickfoot]

"We take care of the hounds first. Then the Horseman. Sound good?" Pike's not used to being group leader. She can handle a group of cleric initiates, direct where to put supplies or things like that. But battle? She usually just made sure everyone was healed.

No, that sounded like a good plan. A sound plan.

A sacred flame gets hurled at the next hound, and it too dissipates. This time, though, the Horseman starts advancing. "I don't think he likes us taking out his minions."

Gold was the color

[girdyourloins]

Scanlan is surrounded by a few women, his violin in his hands as they all seem enamoured with his playing. "Ladies, ladies, it's so nice to be able to entertain you, but I really need to take a break."

They all seem to be very upset but he flashes them all a smile. "I'll be back later. I promise to play for all of you. A private audience if you'd like." When they giggle, he walks away, tucking his violin into his pack carefully before heading over to where the refreshments are. He's just put the mug up to his lips when he spots the white-haired gnome he's been friends with for years now.

As she approaches, he downs the rest of his cider, not paying attention to anything but the smile on her face as she continues over to him. "I would love to dance with you, Pike. I thought you'd never ask."

i love that you brought him out.

[trickfoot]

Pike was light on her feet despite the armor, it making little metallic sounds as she hopped on her feet. "Well, you were so busy and all, I didn't want to interrupt!"

She takes his hands, leading him out into an open part of the square. Scanlan's been her friend for a long time. They've gone through a lot together - and she's realized that she's never actually danced with him. All of the festivals and parties they've been to and this is the first time she can remember. "Do you wanna lead?"

Castmates = Scanlan trolling, right?

[girdyourloins]

Scanlan watches Pike with a fond smile. He appreciated that she seems to have forgiven him for what he said to her all that long ago when he lashed out in his anger at himself on the rest of his family. The year away was helpful to make him realize what an ass he'd been to everyone in his life for a long time and bonded him and Kaylie in a way that felt nearly natural for a father and daughter now.

"It's not an interruption if it's you, Pike."

He lets her take his hands and pull him out into the square where the rest of the people are. He's careful to make sure they're away from any of the drunken taller people who might miss the two gnomes. "I always let the lady lead where she wants to go. I'm happy to follow."

[trickfoot]

It took a while for her to forgive him. Pike had always been very proud of what she could do with the Everlight's help, and for him to have thrown that back in her face had been troubling. It honestly took Grog's help to forgive him. "Good. I didn't want it to be."

The music isn't anything like his - he always seemed to be on the forefront of new music and lyrics, this just seemed to be something very folksy and fun. She starts them both off in a dance that's mostly spins and twirls, something that will let her laugh without thinking too much of the dance.

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

Orym has been watching the dancing with something between bemusement and amusement. It's different, certainly, but everyone seems to be enjoying the festivities, and a harvest celebration seems a benign enough event. Sure he's still trying to figure out what this place is about and how he wound up here. But it's easy to linger on the edges of all the dancing and fun, and he may have played wall-less wallflower for the entirety of his time if he he didn't suddenly find himself looking at a gnome woman asking him to dance.

He spares a moment blinking in surprise -- and the definite sense that this woman looks very familiar, like someone he ought to recognize -- before laughing. "What if I'm a terrible dancer? You could be taking a pretty big risk." He's not saying no though, because it definitely might be fun. And he's not a bad dancer at all.

[trickfoot]

"No one's a terrible dancer!" She laughs. "I might be though, with all of this armor on."

She reaches for his hand, intending to give him a nudge forward. She's strong for her small stature. "You let the music guide you. If we look funny, then it's okay! I certainly won't judge us."

She thinks a moment, then starts up again. "If we totally suck then I will drink... five more mugs of the cider."

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

Orym lets his hand be taken, and he'll be nudged, maybe a bit surprised by that strength, but going along with it without complaint. "I'll do my best. But I won't judge us either."

A pause and he adds, smile brightening just a little. "I'm sure we'll manage okay."

He's light on his feet, and though he spends more time in battle than in dancing, he's got this.

Or well, he would if he didn't spend another moment looking at her, just enough that recognition clicks straight into place. He's been guard to the Tempest long enough that he's certainly come to know who her friends are, who the other members of Vox Machina are. "You're Pike Trickfoot... aren't you?" If he's wrong, it's likely an awkward question. He wouldn't expect her to know him, of course -- he's just one of many Temple Blades -- but he doesn't think he's wrong about who she is.

hell sure was a journey

[keepcalmtaryon]

Immediately Taryon's hands go up in surrender, eyes wide. He knows better than to risk Pike's wrath; he'd witnessed firsthand how that goes, and he hadn't wanted to sneak up on her, just to walk back with her! By... approaching her in the dark! Not his brightest idea, sure, but too little too late now. "It's just me! Don't, uh, shoot!"

...Yeah, he hasn't noticed the danger yet.

[trickfoot]

Bless his heart. "Not you, Tary!! Get behind me!"

Her shock and relief to see him is overridden by the enemy behind him, and she rushes up to him, pulling him away from the snarling that just started behind him. She puts herself in between him and the beasts, the holy symbol around her neck starts to glow, the light radiating around her with the Everlight's light.

She pulls her mace from her side. "You can run or you can fight with me," she says to him.

[keepcalmtaryon]

If asked later, he would not admit that the noise he makes at the sight of the encroaching beasts is indignant. (It is, though. He yelps dramatically and shifts behind her, and while her short stature does little to actually shield him, he does feel substantially safer.)

"I'll- I'll fight with you! Of course!"

Of course, he says without thinking, but when he pats himself down to check for his options, he remembers- oh, right, he hadn't arrived with anything that would be considered useful. He doesn't even have his alchemy bag, and would require time, materials, and money (spoons?) to build another. He has his spells, but his ability to fight is severely hampered by the loss of both his item collection and Doty. Not... that he had Doty at home either, anymore.

...Focus! There's a fight to be had. If he can't do much in the fight himself, he may as well give her extra support, so he gives her a quick pat on the shoulder with a forcefully cheery, "Give them a good what-for!" and casts Haste on her.

Odds Bodkin

[usedhuntersmark]

Vex'ahlia comes out of the shadows, slowly putting Fenthras and her arrows away as she hears Pike's dear, wonderful voice. She releases Trinket as a slight insurance policy so that her friend doesn't spook so easily.

"Of course not, darling. I was careful to avoid most of the things here."

It helps that she can fly with her wings and her broom.

She walks over to the cleric and throws her arms around Pike to hug her as tight as she can. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Pike. Are you okay?"

[trickfoot]

Pike hugs her friend just as tight, happy to see that her friend is okay. She knows Vex can take care of herself, knows she can handle her own without another thought. Vox Machina was her family, though, and she was always going to worry about them.

"I'm okay," she says after a moment, pulling back so she can look her friend in the face. A quick onceover assures the cleric that her friend is okay. "I didn't see you when I got here. Did you just arrive too?"

[usedhuntersmark]

Vex lets out an "oof" of surprise and a bit of pain as Pike tightens her hold around Vex's slender frame. She'll gladly take it, considering it's been four months since she's seen the gnome. It feels a lot longer than even the year that Vox Machina took off towards the beginning of their time together, but she puts that to the fact that they're all closer now after all this time.

"I'm glad to hear that. But, no, Vax and I have been here for about four months now. Keyleth and Percy are also here. I'd started to think that it would just be us four here in Folkmore. I've been busy, but Trinket and I were out for some exercise. All day in a bakery will kill my figure if I'm not careful."

[trickfoot]

Her, Vax, Percy, Keyleth. Part of her debated whether this was all some sort of ruse, that she was being lied to. Vax shouldn't be here. Vax was- There had to be an explanation for this. They had played with time magic before with Artagan, but this seemed even bigger than the fae's magics.

"Four months? That doesn't make sense. I just saw you." Like literally, she thinks. They had all just returned from Dalen's Closet.

Odd bodkins

[foundpurpose]

“Few feathers out of place.” Vax’ildan says as he steps into the light. He looks the same as ever but his wings are different. The tips are marked with the light of dusk. He glances behind him for a moment.

Nothing is coming. He got away. Vax settles beside her at the fire and smiles. “Been a while, Pickle. And no I didn’t get caught up with the Horseman. I flew over him.”

[trickfoot]

The last time she had seen Vax, Scanlan had used his last Wish spell to call him from the clutches of the Raven Queen to see Vex at her wedding. He does look the same, the same face, the same tall body, the same armor.

Her breath catches in her throat, so she just smiles brightly. She's just so happy to see him.

She puts her hand on his knee, patting it for a moment while she gets her voice back. "It really has been a while, Stringbean. I missed you."

[foundpurpose]

"Before we say anything. Has anyone told you how things are here?" Vax says, but his voice is gentle. There's a slow draining of tension. All they need is Grog and Tary, whom he has never met before.

But he's curious about him. "The last thing I remember from home is that we had just got back to Emon to take down Thordak. I've been told up to what happened with the Kraken and Kiki's Aramenté." His wings fold against his back. "I'm glad you're here."

odds bodkins

[deathbygoldfish]

"Pike!" Keyleth runs forward, gathering up the little gnome into a big warm hug. She's a bit beaten up but similarly to Pike, she's more exhausted than hurt. It'd taken a lot of magic to deter the horseman and the distant fire had promised a quiet place to rest.

After a second of holding Pike in the air, the slender druid teeters and falls to the ground with Pike. She isn't as weak as Vex but Pike's armor is heavy and she's truly exhausted. She pulls back enough to grin brightly at her friend. "It's so good to see you!? When did you get here? Tell me everything!"

It's so great to see an old friend.

[trickfoot]

"Keyleth!" Gods above, finding her friends here was making it so much easier. Pike often put on a brave face for everyone, making sure things were okay before she went off on her own travels. Reality sets in when she's alone, and she realizes she needs her friends more and more each time. At this point, the only two she hadn't seen were Percy and Grog, and she'd kill to have the rest of Vox Machina there. Pike squeezes just as tight, taking a moment to make sure her friend is real.

When they fall she laughs, and Pike picks herself up to her feet and helps her friend do so as well. "I got here when the festival started... there was a weird jack-o-lantern and then there was a bunch of dancing and later on I think I was drinking with some rabbits? I'm not too sure. We had a lot to drink."

[deathbygoldfish]

Pike's hug is significantly stronger than Keyleth and it takes the slender Druid a moment to catch her breath after the tight hug. Not that she blames Pike, she is hugging as tightly as she could too. It's so good to see the little cleric and Keyleth wanted to make sure that Pike wasn't an elaborate illusion.

Keyleth crosses her legs and sits across from Pike with the fire crackling to their left. There are others around the fire and more people gathering but right now Keyleth is solely focused on her friend. "That sounds like a lot. I saw the horsemen too and tried to help people but I don't think they can be killed. It just stops after a while, like some weird trial." It was weird.

"Oh! The keep is here! You can have your room back and I've been cleaning the church for you!" Keyleth didn't really like the gods... any god but she respected Pike and what was important to her friend was important to her too.