Hall of Infinite Doors
You give yourself a quick look-over. Somehow, you survived the fall without any injury more severe than an unfashionable bruise. You're in good physical condition - you're not hungry, tired or worn from your imprisonment, and you feel as fresh as one can be expected to feel after falling out of an impossible alien dropship. As counterpoint to this good fortune, you have practically no supplies - some kind soul has layered the bottom of your cage with a gray woolen blanket, but apart from that, nothing else fell with you into the green. You have no food or water, no spare clothes, and no means of defending yourself against the thing that you guess is already on your trail. You'll have to scavenge.
After a bit of examination, you're able to tell that you're cage is a little different than you had expected. Peering into the lock reveals a complex network of wires and metal bars, apparently extending the length of the cage and into the floor; it must be set to release once it feels the pressure of impact. The floor itself is a little springy, and this makes you curious. The cage has suffered a small amount of damage in the crash; one of the flooring sections has come unstuck, allowing you to peer underneath. You're essentially standing on a large spring, set with dozens of small, glass-fronted devices whose purpose you can only guess at - perhaps they had something to do with the repulsion field which enabled your graceful downfall.
You give one of these glassy nodules a yank, and it comes free from its housing. Three small leads pock the exterior; you have no idea how this can be useful to you, but it's incredibly interesting, and you'd like to keep it in case you somehow manage not only to stay alive, but get back home.
Of more immediate interest is the loose bar you notice when examining the floor of your cage. Jarred from the impact, it has slipped free of its mooring and dangles from the roof like a loose tooth. You spend a bit of time working and pulling at it; something beyond mere soldering is keeping it connected to its housing, and finally, with a mighty heave, you manage to pull the thing free. It takes several wires with it, which apparently once lead into the roof of the cage; they dangle like loose hairs from the end of the bar, but the thing is sturdy and a far more agreeable weapon than whatever sticks might be nearby.
In regards to your environment, it is both promising and somewhat fearful. Huge trees rise around you, knotted with black-violet bark that, upon rapping, resonates as if you were striking an iron block. The air is filled with insect buzzing; a few curious specimens, banded black and blue, attempt to land on your arms and taste your sweat, but they're easily brushed away. And as to that sweat: it's incredibly humid here and hotter than you'd prefer. It feels as if the entire forest is sweating, the air filled with the damp murk of tree-breath and rain-promise. At least it'll be easy enough to find fresh water; all you'd have to do is wring one of these spongy-seeming ferns.
Just as you're testing your theory, however, you're assaulted by the twin horrors of sound and smell. A horrible rending crash echoes around you, accompanied by a potent, sour stench - which you recognize immediately as the telltale scent of the worm-beast released after you. You peer into the trees around you in a panic, and think you spot something rumbling through the underbrush some distance to the south of you (that is, if the sun travels east-west on this strange and alien world). Flashes of pinkish flesh pock your vision - that thing moves fast, and it's coming straight towards you.
After a bit of examination, you're able to tell that you're cage is a little different than you had expected. Peering into the lock reveals a complex network of wires and metal bars, apparently extending the length of the cage and into the floor; it must be set to release once it feels the pressure of impact. The floor itself is a little springy, and this makes you curious. The cage has suffered a small amount of damage in the crash; one of the flooring sections has come unstuck, allowing you to peer underneath. You're essentially standing on a large spring, set with dozens of small, glass-fronted devices whose purpose you can only guess at - perhaps they had something to do with the repulsion field which enabled your graceful downfall.
You give one of these glassy nodules a yank, and it comes free from its housing. Three small leads pock the exterior; you have no idea how this can be useful to you, but it's incredibly interesting, and you'd like to keep it in case you somehow manage not only to stay alive, but get back home.
Of more immediate interest is the loose bar you notice when examining the floor of your cage. Jarred from the impact, it has slipped free of its mooring and dangles from the roof like a loose tooth. You spend a bit of time working and pulling at it; something beyond mere soldering is keeping it connected to its housing, and finally, with a mighty heave, you manage to pull the thing free. It takes several wires with it, which apparently once lead into the roof of the cage; they dangle like loose hairs from the end of the bar, but the thing is sturdy and a far more agreeable weapon than whatever sticks might be nearby.
In regards to your environment, it is both promising and somewhat fearful. Huge trees rise around you, knotted with black-violet bark that, upon rapping, resonates as if you were striking an iron block. The air is filled with insect buzzing; a few curious specimens, banded black and blue, attempt to land on your arms and taste your sweat, but they're easily brushed away. And as to that sweat: it's incredibly humid here and hotter than you'd prefer. It feels as if the entire forest is sweating, the air filled with the damp murk of tree-breath and rain-promise. At least it'll be easy enough to find fresh water; all you'd have to do is wring one of these spongy-seeming ferns.
Just as you're testing your theory, however, you're assaulted by the twin horrors of sound and smell. A horrible rending crash echoes around you, accompanied by a potent, sour stench - which you recognize immediately as the telltale scent of the worm-beast released after you. You peer into the trees around you in a panic, and think you spot something rumbling through the underbrush some distance to the south of you (that is, if the sun travels east-west on this strange and alien world). Flashes of pinkish flesh pock your vision - that thing moves fast, and it's coming straight towards you.