This is a placeholder for Andrew's thread, GMed by Tadeusz.  :)

We've all had friends or acquantances at times like this.  The one we wondered how he managed to survive until adulthood, or stay out of jail.  He's clearly smart, but well, he managed to tip a truck over on its side in a flat parking lot, and when a girl got desperate enough to track him down, and ask him to the prom, he managed to get her mad enough that she loosened a tooth with her slap.

So when you're sitting at your dining room table with a few friends, putting together a character for a rpg on your brand-new computer with 'Scriff Inside!' you're not totally surprised when he jumps around the corner and pretends to throw the new bought javelin....and you're not totally shocked when he messes it up and with a crestfallen look launches it right at you.

There's no time to dodge.  The only thing to do is raise your computer as a shield.

The iron point jabs through the keyboard and motherboard, and you're about to scream at him when you notice white arcs, then yellow blobs, and before you can drop it, you're surrounded by electricity.

==========

"Moo." You smell green leaves, outdoor air....thin air....and cow.  You're laying on stone.  You hear a small ripping noise just above you, and some dust or something scatters down on you.

We were going to be playing a new campaign for Pathseaker. Our old characters had just bought it. Mike wanted to be a paladin, lord knows why. He can't pull off characters who do what's right because it's right. He's more of a merc. I'd been considering making a caster. In fact I had one already rolled up since I'd died early in last week's session. Beautiful concept, an elvin sorc who dabbles in fencing. At higher levels it should be pretty effective. Then the party wipe happened. And I show up today only to learn everyone else is either a caster or a fighter. Mike made his paladin, doubt he'll stay one past the first session though.

Still, that meant I'd need to make a healer type. I'm still setting up in my spot. Hell, I haven't even finished pulling my stuff out. Today we'd been planning to come dressed as our characters. Since I was intending to play my sorc, I'm dressed as Arilena Swiftblade. Right down to the saber and "everfull tankard" I spent most of character creating funds on in-game. The others think I'm weird for collecting ancient weapons and other authentic memorabilia. Maybe I am.

I look up from pulling out my laptop just in time to see Edd screwing around with one of the props I'd brought for the others. A javelin since Mike was talking about using a spear last week. And that's the closest I've got in my collection. He's phantom miming throwing the javelin at me. Only his grip is rather loose.

"That's not a to..."

I don't get to finish. Hell, I don't even get to put down the laptop before Natural Disaster Edd's actually thrown the wood and metal projectile. It's ruined. I'd spent five hundred on this laptop, and it's ruined. The satchel I'd used to carry my computer slips to the ground through numb fingers. And before I can lay into my 'dear' friend my world devolves into pain....

The pain's gone as quickly as it came. And I find myself laying down. Was it just a dream? But there's something wrong I can feel my pack still in place. An angular pressure against my left hip makes me move. Only to realize the dagger I'd worn is still there. So is my saber. Then I open my eyes. Grass, cows, stone...

"The hell?"

A ripping sound makes me look up. Again I exclaim my shock. "What the fork?!"
This message was last edited by the player at 07:13, Tue 21 June 2016.

You move to your left, and feel alongside the dagger, empty space.  A skinny cow is standing half above, half below you on a near vertical slope.  You're laying on a stone ledge dotted with grass that is about ten feet long and thirteen inches wide.

The cow is munching on some sort of weed that she just pulled roots and all out of the mountain above you, scattering loose dirt over your chest.

Looking up, you see a grass spotted eighty degree slope, with ledges, and juts, and a dozen cows climbing about for three hundred feet until the top slopes back out of sight.

As I take in my surroundings I can't help but think this has to be a dream. The problem is that I don't have lucid dreams. And I know it. Which means this may actually be real. At the very least I need to treat it like it's real, even if it's just a product of my imagination. So what happened? Donno, but I may need assistance. So I reach for my cell. Only got it recently... and... it's gone. Just. Freaking. Great.

"Okay, first order of business... get down from here."

With that thought in mind, I cautiously look over the edge of the cliff. Haven't done free climbing in years. Nearly twenty of them in fact. Use to do it all the time. There was this tall cliff a few blocks away from my house when I was a kid. Me and some friends would climb up it on a nearly daily basis in the summer. Had a "secret clubhouse" near the top. It had been little more then a small cave, but we loved it.

The last time I'd done free climbing was when I was ten or so. There was a section of the cliff that looked like a giant flight of stairs. I was young and dumb, so I thought this path up would be easier then the one I normally took. For a certain definition of 'easier' that was even true. What I'd not known was that the flat part of the 'stairs' was often a narrow shelf, not the wide (to me) surfaces my usual path of ascent had. Or that near the top there were no more handholds close enough together for a ten year old boy to reach.

If another climber hadn't heard me calling for help, it might have been the last thing I ever did. When the climber arrived and pulled me up, I was starting to lose my grip. As it is, that was the last time I dared climb a cliff. Until now that is. Even so I wasn't looking forward to this. Still, cows mean people. THey had to get up here somehow. And since cows aren't built for mountain climbing there was likely an easy way down that didn't involve falling. Or screaming. And most definitely with no dying. I didn't like that idea at all.

After checking if the cliff face had a way down, I decided to investigate the plateau I was on. In my experience cliffs nearly always have a gentle way down as well. And I still needed to figure out where I was.

"Don't suppose you know where we are?" I asked the cow near me as I investigated my surroundings, not that I expected an answer.

You look down fifty feet to the tops of broadleaf trees that block the view of the ground.  There are a number of ledges and side paths on the way down.  It doesn't look like that difficult a climb if you're okay lowering yourself four to eight feet regularly.  But some of the rock is pretty easily broken.

Looking about for an easy path, you don't see one despite extensive searching (very bad General Effects roll.)

You see eight cows below you. One scrambles straight up fifteen feet to get a yellow flower.

Looking out, you see jutting four hundred foot tall, seventy wide rock piles a tenth of a mile away with cows, and another one further away with no cows, and the ground slopes down, and down in a gentle roll that leads to the far horizon and a hint of deep blue.

The air is thin indeed, not desperately so, but you're at least three thousand feet above sea level.

After witnessing a cow climbing up a cliff face to reach some flowers I could only think of one thing to say.

"Wednesday, Thursday, Friday."

Still had no clue where I was, or how I got there. But cows did mean that in theory someone was out here. I hadn't expected cows to respond to me. So I wasn't surprised by it's silence. The thin air bothered me a lot. I had a long climb ahead, most likely. And I didn't have much food with me. Just the two cans of soup I'd brouht since we were going to be gaming all day. Well Andrew, this cliff isn't going to climb it's self.

With that thought I stowed my hip pouch in the backpack so it wouldn't get hung up on anything. The tankard went in there too. This is crazy, I thought as I started lowering myself over the edge. Since the handholds didn't look too sturdy, I made sure to test each one before putting any real weight on it. Let alone letting go of any previous ones. Climbing up however is always easier then going down. You can see your next handhold when going up. I hadn't done anything this stupid in twenty years.

I much rather would have had a rope, better still a ladder, or preferably  nice gentle slope I could casually stroll down. Since I had none of those, I was stuck risking my fool neck. Fortunately there looked to be plenty of landings. And the cows meant I might not starve. My biggest concern then was getting down, and finding water. The order of those two items could easily change in priority. I wished I had my crossbow with me. Not to mention the rest of my B.O.B.

"Ooph" I grunted as I dropped the last bit to the first landing.

One down, far too many to go. It suddenly occurred to me I might be able to spot signs of civilization from up here. Not sure if it would do any good, but at least I would have a general direction to go. After resting for several minutes I began the next part of my laborious decent. Just before I began to climb again I checked the sun's position. Didn't know if it was morning or afternoon. But at least I could get a general directional fix. While at it I also scanned the distance for signs of occupation. Hopefully I could see a town or something. Or a farm I might be able to reach. Or given the scenic surroundings possibly a lodge.

The Sun is at 10 or 2.

About a mile away, you spot a thin trail of smoke rising from a break in the trees.  There might be a town or a pile of rocks in the far distance down near the blue.  Its got some blocky shapes and is whitish, so....?

You go down one more, very slowly.  And you're going down the next one when a cow scrambles up past you, and knocks you loose.

Fallin...SMACK.  You dropped ten feet, and landed on a ledge.  The second cow above you now, looks down and moos indignantly.

OOC: Let's hope you're not in for a series of rolls like Mew.  That was a 100, btw.  You're too good to botch, so that's a near max failure for this.

You start to get up,and the ledge under you collapses.  Another ten foot drop, and another ledge.

Moaning, you rise, and after a bit, climb down further.

The next one down has you lose part of a fingernail.

And now you're below the tree tops with thirty feet to go.  The trees are banana trees.

A cow takes a bit of your hair as you go past, chews it meditatively, and you reach the soft ground in waist high foilage.

OOC: I put you down for High Amateur Freeclimbing at 1@9, so we'll raise that to 2@1 which is Low Professional.