Plot Challenge: Mist and Chain

Diana

LOOK HOW CALM SHE IS
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PLOT CHALLENGE, hotpink
A PLOT CHALLENGE is where you are given a word, a phrase, a sentence, or a setting and you have to come up with a plot idea that is inspired by those words!

The object is to THINK FAST and share the first ideas that come to mind. It's an exercise in quick creative thinking. You can do this challenge any time. Or multiple times!

To Participate: THINK FAST. Don't waste any time. The first idea(s) that comes to mind, write it down and post it! You are to write down a plot premise or basic idea. This isn't about writing scenes, this is about writing up a setting!

NOTE: If you decide to borrow someone's concept for a roleplay, make sure you ask permission or give credit to the muse.

Challenge Phrase: Mist and Chain
 
The Muck was a place of death and despair. It was a swamp with water hardly more than a foot deep or less than an inch in any place, filled with creatures and plants that almost to a number were deadly. Poisonous frogs, fish with teeth and spines and stingers, plants that moved of their own accord and could swallow a horse whole... the entire place was remarkably unpleasant, even before you considered the mist. Great yellow-green clouds of it, usually harmless. Usually. Every now and then, the natural acids in the swamp would overheat and discharge into the atmosphere in steaming plumes of certain death.
Really, it was no wonder there were no settlements in that hellhole. There was, however, a prison. Located in the middle of The Muck, it had not a single road or canal or other path to it. Completely isolated from the outside world, it was occupied for only a few decades before the trouble proved to outweigh the benefits. In the year 1236, the Duke of Mitlund formally closed the prison, ordering all prisoners and personnel evacuated. A mass exodus across the swamp happened that Autumn, with every person and most of the items in the prison leaving in a great, depressing march. There was no need for leg irons; where would they go? No one could survive alone. Cuffed and otherwise free, the prisoners were marched.
Cuffed and otherwise free, the prisoners saw an opportunity just a third of the way through the march. With the morning light they rioted against their keepers, the chains in their handcuffs becoming weapons, savagery matched only by oversight. There were only two compasses to guide the party; as soon as the warden carrying them saw that his men were not winning, he smashed them both and tossed the map into a pond. As they had been trained, the guards punched holes in the boats carrying the supplies, flooding the bottoms with water and rendering most of the supplies inedible.
The prisoners won that day, but they were quite literally lost. The clouds prevented any sort of effective navigation using the stars, and without the maps and compasses, there was no way to tell which way it was to civilization. No one knows how long they wandered, but eventually they wandered into the wrong cloud of mist. The acid was mild enough not to be noticed until they had wandered deeply into its clutches, and once its stinging effect on the eyes and lungs was noticed, it was far too late.
The Muck now is abandoned for one more reason: sometimes, when clouds of mist drift close to the towns on the outskirts, the rattling of chains can be heard, and the whispers of disembodied voices. It ought to have been enough to scare anyone away, but there was one little catch: unbeknownst to the prisoners, one of the sunken supply boats contained a wealth in gold and rubies stored there in the belief the isolation would have protected them from thieves.
Now the Duke's son wants his father's treasure back. There are few adventurers willing to delve into The Muck, even with the promise of riches... but few is enough.
 
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There are many ways one can be a prisoner. Jail,, emotional or familial ties, even one's job.
One can even be a prisoner without knowing it.
. . . Such is the case here.​
The Island of Oroantos is a lush and fruitful island. It is surrounded by a ring of rocks and cliffs that protect its shores. There is only one way in to Alenran, it's port city.​
The Island of Oroantos is also completely cloaked by mist.​
It is hidden from the word in general by a blanket of fog that helps to keep its people safe. And it's people are safe.​
. . . From the outside.​
The People of Oroantos are happy, healthy, well fed, and well cared for.​
But they are ruled by a man named Argos.​
. . . Argos, is a hypnotist.​
Well, that's really only the best word for what he is. Argos is far more powerful then the average Hypnotist. He can mold the mind of his target in any manner he sees fit, regardless of how willing that target is. He controls the island by controlling it's people. His gives them food, he gives them housing, and he gives them jobs in his work force. Making whatever he desires, mining for minerals, farming exotic foods that grow nowhere else. it doesn't sound so bad, but these people have no lives of their own. Argos is a harsh taskmaster.​
. . . and they love him for it​
The People of Oroantos are in desperate need of help.​
Help from the outside,​
Because only someone from the outside can see Argos for what he truly is.​
 
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