Fandom Terraria: Journey In The Otherworld

[CaptainRustbolt21]

“I don’t think now’s the...” He began to talk, before he quickly lost breathe and had to breath in again. “... time for joking matter.” He finally finished. It was painful to even talk by this point, as his lung wound quickly began to take a toll on his ability to breath and talk.

Thinking he wasn’t going to survive for much longer without medical attention, he looked around the room they are in until he saw an exit; a wooden door, with light creaking from the crevice of the door frame. Looking at his newfound friend, he points at the wooden door mouthes the words ‘leave’.

 

[BoltBeam]

"Yikes, sorry for trying to lighten up... Something." He said weakly, noticing the motions. He would nod and manage to make his way to the door, with intent to push it open and head out to the other side - if anything is on that other side, he's about to find out what there 'is'! "Hello..." He said silently before stopping, and as he stepped out... "World!" He added after said step, now looking to the surroundings he finds.

 

[CaptainRustbolt21]

What lies ahead of him is the sight of the beautiful, glowing ocean; where he saw that this house is built on top of the granular sand. However, alongside the ocean, from afar, he saw the combusted, crashed remains of the airplane he and his friend flew, where many bloody bodies float around the crash site.

As he witnessed this, they both hear the creaking of a door behind them. Not knowing there was one from behind, they both turn their heads to see, what seems to be, the homeowner of this shed.

It was a man wearing a pale shirt and blue jeans, holding a tray containing a glass filled with a red-glowing liquid and a wooden brick. A seemingly normal human, what our hero quickly notice about him is his blue eyes, which has unnaturally-glowing red pupils. That kind of color is never a good sign.

“Wait!” The man yelled in worry.

 

[BoltBeam]

"This place is built on sand... look at this pla-" And then he saw the crashed plane and winced intensively - it's not fear, it's disgust. "Oh god, never mind, that's turned my brain off entirely... Yuck..." He muttered sharply under his breath, and just as he would try to continue moving, he would stop and turn to a man who had emerged behind him - quickly noting the red pupils in his eyes. Taking a moment to lean back in surprise and register that information, he proceeded to stretch and sigh. "What's the matter, fella?" He asked offhandedly.

 

[CaptainRustbolt21]

“You can’t be out here, wounded like that.” He warned, placing the tray onto the dresser. Thinking the survivor would react negatively if he is perceived as a threat, he cautiously approached the survivor, holding out his hand. “Come back inside and lay back down. I got something that will expedite the recovery process of your, and your friend’s, wounds.” He promises.

 

[BoltBeam]

"And how in the right mind do you know that for certain?" He countered as predicted, and before he could do anything, this stranger simply outstretched his hand to keep the distance. "...Hell, I'll be fine, I reckon... Not sure about him, but I can't say you're wrong in regards to the mention of the wounds..." He looked down to said wounds he had and sighed in defeat. "...Bah, fine... Health first, guess."

 

[CaptainRustbolt21]

With his trust gained momentarily, he guides the survivor back inside. He leads him back to the bed, where the survivor saw his friend glaring at him; no doubt angry that he didn’t take his chance to escape. After the homeowner sits the brown-coated survivor onto the bed, the black-suited survivor turns his head at the homeowner, who is now grabbing the block of wood and the glowing glass jar. “What are you do...” He tried to ask, before he wheezes out again, already out of breath. “I’m going to treat your chest wound and, by extension, your collapsed lung.” He answers back, bluntly. “And fast, by the sound of your voice.”

He approaches the black-suited survivor and hovers the wood block over his mouth. “Open up. You’ll need this. What I’m going to do is going to hurt.” He warned. Seeing that he has no other choice, the survivor weakly opens his mouth and the homeowner places the brick on his teeth. Once that’s done, he pops his knuckles and grabs for the metal spike on his chest. Initially wiggling around it, he then jerks it up and removes the metal piece, squirting blood around the place. As the black-suited survivor gritted his teeth on the wood block, screaming in agony, the homeowner, grabs for the red jar, removes the cork lid, and pours it all over the flesh wound. Once he’s done, he places the red jar aside and just watched his flesh wound. As the red liquid seeps in, the wound pulsates. It starts to grow, little by little, as it begins to repair itself. Having no idea what’s happening to his wound, the black-suited survivor only looked in horror and confusion as the wound slowly shuts itself on its own.

A fast and swift recovery.

 

[BoltBeam]

And... what in the world did he just see...? "...The actual hell was that?" He blurted out in mild fear and surprise as his jaw dropped, and remained hanging for a moment before it launched itself back to its original state. "...You better have a fathomable explanation for everything I just saw, man!" He added in a sharper, notably angrier tone. "The heck did you just use to make all of that happen?!"

 

[CaptainRustbolt21]

The homeowner merely looked at him, nonchalantly. He understood the survivor’s frustration and kept quiet until he finished. “I applied a healing potion over your friend’s wound.” He answered, as he reaches to grab the wood block off of the black-suited guy’s mouth. “Normally, the potion would be ingested, but I learned that applying it directly to the wound hastens the healing process... at the cost of some additional pain.” Grabbing the rest of his tools, the wood block and the potion of healing, he walks to the brown-coated survivor, ready to heal him. “Now, it is your turn to recover.” He informs him. “Unless you prefer adventuring this world with a open bone fracture on your leg...”

 

[BoltBeam]

He stopped and listened - so it was to make the healing faster... OK, that makes 'sense', but it still doesn't make it any better! When he himself was addressed on the topic of his own wounds, he stood there visibly nervously, expression riddled with panic and 'oh this is going to hurt', as her his occasional body shaking of similar fear. "I don't think I have a choice in anything, do I." He said bluntly, sighing in defeat and not liking where this was going - an unknown world to see and traverse, and whatever there is in it. He has no choice to bunker down and deal with that, so he first needs to endure this 'healing' process...

 

[CaptainRustbolt21]

Shrugging off the comment, he prepares to heal him. Placing the wooden brick onto his mouth, the homeowner, now his healer, slowly unwraps the kelp-like bandages covering his legs. “I must admit, I am surprised to see you standing there with the broken leg.” He comments as he finishes unwrapping the wound. “You must either have a high pain tolerance or the shock from that airplane crash has yet to subside.” He reveals to the brown-coated survivor his severely-mauled leg; as he had described, the great loss of his flesh had revealed his fractured lower femur, kneecap, and upper leg. How it’s not bleeding profusely is beyond him. “Oh, my god...” The black-suited survivor whispered.

 

[BoltBeam]

He remained silent as this recovery would happen - because it was blocked off by a brick on his mouth. Though, before anything could even happen, he bore witness to this man's own wounds - that is a lot of damage, and as per his expression, he seemed quite surprised, but equally amazed that he's still going in kind.

 

[CaptainRustbolt21]

The survivor's wounded leg exposed, the healer grabs the bottle of red liquid and pours the rest of its contents onto the open bone fracture. Tossing the empty jar onto the bed, the healer again stares at the brown-coated survivor's wound as it begins to pulsate and grow. He bite on his wooden block, as the process was painful, but he could see that the healing potion was going it's job; he witnesses the cracks of his bones close itself and his bloody flesh heal itself. Within a minute, the wound simply closes itself shut and he's healed.

"You two might need to rest for a while. The wounds are gone, but I'm certain the pains caused by the wounds hasn't subsided." The homeowner warned, grabbing the wooden block out of the brown-coated survivor's mouth and tossing it away. Grabbing a nearby chair, the homeowner sits down and draws a deep breath. "I suppose an explanation is in order." He guessed. "Yeah, two questions, " The black-suited survivor blurts out, in a demanding voice. "Who the hell are you and where the hell are we?"

 

[BoltBeam]

After hissing in pain when the recovery was over, but hey - it 'was' working, and it looks just as bad as it sounded... "Yeah, fill us in here! As far as I can tell, this sure as hell ain't where 'we' belong!" He added in an angered tone of his own, shaking his head and narrowing his stare.

 

[CaptainRustbolt21]

“Now, now. Patience, my friends.” He told them in a calm voice. “Your answers will be given soon.” He clears his throat.

“You two have crash-landed into an island of undetermined location. A pretty obvious assumption... but, this island isn’t any normal one you’ve ever been.” He began. “How so?” The black-suited survivor asked. “Because... this island is shelter to magic itself; magical creatures, unnatural biomes, ritualistic spells, etcetera.” He reveals. The black-suited survivor just stared at him, confused by this response. “What?” Is all he could say.

 

[BoltBeam]

"So what you're saying is, this is a place where reality comes to die, and may as well be dead already?" He sounded surprised - fearful and curious, both at once - those words alone told him more than they sold on face value. "OK, so this is an island in no man's land, home to all sorts of events, creatures and all sorts you'd not see back at where we came from, eh...? And given the fact we seem to be stuck here..." He groaned and facepalmed, not particularly liking where any of this is going. Survival on this sand-coated rock is a must, at this rate.

 

[CaptainRustbolt21]

“I’m afraid your suspicions are correct.” He said. “This island will regularly get plagued by rainstorms at any point in time, and even if you do invent yourself a flying machine, these skies are owned by the harpies.” The black-suited survivor perks up his head, more confused. “Harpies?” He asked. “Demi-Human women that patrol the skies for any intruders, killing any with their razor-sharp feathers.” He explains briefly. “Likely, they are the ones responsible for the destruction of your airplane.”

 

[BoltBeam]

"So if they are there like you say they are, we're stuck to ground level or here in general... Going up would lead us to 'them', and trying to go across the water is easier said than done if you take into account the sea life and how much worse it is 'here', huh...?" He thought aloud, his tone worsening to worry - as his confidence had dwindled and now finally collapsed. "Damn..." He muttered weakly, evidently not happy with this situation.

 

[CaptainRustbolt21]

With the realization that they might be stuck in this island for the rest of their lives, the black-suited survivor sighed and turned his head to the brown-coated survivor. “Well, if we’re gonna be stuck here for the rest of our lives, we might as well get to know each other.” He said, gesturing to himself as if he’s getting ready to introduce himself. “My name is Christian Miller. What’s yours?” He asked.

 

[BoltBeam]

"Yeah... If we're gonna be stuck here for the time being, I guess it can't hurt, can it..." He muttered before stretching a little, sighing and taking a deep breath while he listened to the other introduce himself - for his name, as he had spoken it, was Christian. He took a moment to acknowledge and register that information in his brain before continuing with his own introduction - or more accurately, undertaking it not too long later. "The name's Teruya Inata - at your service!" He said proudly all of a sudden with a mindless, beaming smile.

 

[CaptainRustbolt21]

“Teruya Inata, huh?” Christian said, raising an eyebrow at his unique name. “I’m just gonna go off a limb and guess that you’re from Japan or something, based on that name alone.” He joked, smiling a little bit. About time he got into a joking mood. The mysterious homeowner also giggled a bit at his little joke.

 

[BoltBeam]

"Guilty as charged." Teruya responded in a bleaker, modest tone before laughing it off too. "It's not like it means too much - it's a name after all, but I'm to assume that's nowhere near where your place is - wherever." He added in the same tone, continuing to joke yet remaining modest as a laugh would peek out once more.

 

[CaptainRustbolt21]

Eventually, Christian remembered something. “Hey, wait a second. There‘s one more thing that hasn’t been answered.” He turns to the homeowner. “You, whoever you are. What, exactly, are you?” He asked again.

“Me? Well, I go by many names- Bradley, Brandon, Collin, Jacob, Kyle, Ryan, Zach, Jack, Harley...” He listed, counting his many names with his fingers, as the two survivors stared in surprise by his many aliases. “But, universally, I am simply referred to as... the Guide.” He finally answered.

Christian stared at his, puzzled. “Why that title?” He asked. “I know the ins and outs of this large island. The many vast biomes it inhabits, the most unnatural creatures it possess, the deep lore behind it all...” The Guide said, speaking slowly. “If there is a question about this land that is in need to be answered, I am your go-to man.”

 

[BoltBeam]

Teruya would just stop and stare in similar confusion - though it makes sense, that's... uncanny, as if this is far from this 'real world' they were once in - granted, given what he spoke of earlier, this probably points more towards it. "...Alright, well here's one for you - what in the actual hell are we supposed to do right now?" Teruya questioned in a worried tone. "You, who knows the world, should know what to do first 'in' said world, right? C'mon..."

 

[CaptainRustbolt21]

“Would I truly be a guide if I do now know when to start?” He asked, making a grin that seems... a little too creepy. “Firstly, you must know how to survive in this world. You need tools. Luckily, I have a couple spare sets of copper tools just for the two of you.” He walks to the door behind the survivors and opens it. “You may explore the beach a little bit while I gather your things. Don’t wander off too far.” He warned before he exits to the next room.