Museums Truly are Gates to Other Times and Places

Niiyuke

Active Member
The Story

Great, a trip to the museum, just what every college student wants. To make it even more fun the teachers are going along on this guided tour. Sounds like a load of fun right? Wrong. Somehow you and your classmates end up with the dullest tour guide you could possibly think of. Thinking you could find something more interesting you sneak off to look around at the exhibits on your own. You end up in an off limits section full of old bits of armor and weaponry. You’re a college school student, this seems like a cool place made even more fun by the fact that you’re not supposed to be there. Strangely though your eyes keep getting drawn to one particular peace and for some reason you can’t help going back to look at it again and again.*

Now this is where you wish you had stayed with the dull tour guide. For some ungodly reason you are compelled to pick up the old artifact and before you know what’s going on you start to feel all funny. You can’t let go of the object and panic sets in. Next thing you know the world goes black and you pass out. When you wake up again you find yourself not passed out on the tile floor of the museum but surrounded by tall grass in the middle of a field. To make matters worse you’re not in the jeans and a t-shirt you wore that morning. Nope, you’ve gotten some sort of medieval style clothing on and a weapon lying near you. Even more fun is that within minutes of waking up, you start to see things that shouldn't exist. After all, magic belongs in stories. Here, magic is a way of life, and if you are going to make it out alive, you have better learn fast, because the world is ruled by creatures straight out of your bed time stories.

You have become lost in some other world stuck in the medieval times where humans are considered servants at best, slaves at worst, and the only way home? To complete the prophesy that was laid out years ago. Unfortunately you know jack shit about the land, how to fight with your weapon, or how to handle the magic that is suddenly at your fingertips. You are alone and have to survive to fill the prophesy or remained trapped in that land forever. Oh, and did the tour guide mention the land you’ve just found yourself in is a war torn land and people would as soon kill you as look at you? Well have fun on your trip to the museum. Try not to become part of the exhibit ok?


Those Lost in Time

Name: Amber Estep
Age: 21
Race: Human
Description:
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Bio: Amber was born a bastard to a prostitute. This lead to a very rough start to her life. She grew accustomed to life bouncing around form one hotel to the next. Her mother did everything she could to shelter a young amber from the realities of her life, but Amber was neither blind nor dumb. She knew why her mother would leave at odd hours in the middle of the night and why when she came back she was always a mess. Social services took Amber away from that life when she hit the age of five and she was quickly adopted into a loving middle class family who couldn't have children of their own. They saw to it that she went to school and graduated before heading off to college where she is majoring in biology. Amber decided to take a course in anthropology as a gen ed and found herself along on that fateful tour of the museum.

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Name: Hayden Castillo
Age: 23
Race: Human
Description: Chin length dark hair, Gray-hazel eyes, 6 feet 2
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Bio: Hayden Castillo is the eldest of three brothers. They are very close in age (23, 22, 20) but very different. The youngest, Zachary is on track to get drafted by the NFL, Paul, the middle child, is gaining work as a stuntman, Hayden was planning to pass the CPA exam with a Bachelor’s in Accounting. He’s always been the odd one out, always thinking ahead, always busy going over the family’s finances, helping their mother hold up the house after their father’s, passing. He had to help; he couldn’t let their mother suffer.

When he was little and their father was alive but away on deployments, Hayden would dream of being a hero or a rogue like Robin Hood, or what he thought his father, a sniper in the Army, was. But those fantasies, they were long gone. He had to stay grounded. He had to make sure Zachary stayed out of trouble, Paul didn’t do anything too crazy, his mother didn’t drown in debt. He had to focus on reality. Until a longbow in a museum made him question what that was.
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Name: Daniel White
Age: 21
Description:
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Personality: Daniel is an outgoing, friendly, kind person. He's enthusiastic about performing even small tasks and a diligent worker. He tends to easily trust others and believe in the good of others, sometimes to his detriment.

Bio: As someone who excelled in sports and academics throughout secondary, he continued cruising into university to do a Chemistry degree with his eyes set nowhere in particular, spending most of his time outside the lab inside the gym. He has chosen to enter the police force or some sort of private contractor for security after university as a compromise with his dad, who wanted him to go into the army to serve, which wasn't a path Daniel wanted to take, especially as he had to live with his father's constant panic attacks and seeing him come back as a shell of the man he once knew.

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Name: Alexander Walther
Age: 24
Description:
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Character: Alexander is a fairly straight-forward guy. He is honest and doesn’t hold back his opinions. He is neither interested nor very good at scheming or planning. He addresses problems head-on and without much of an afterthought about possible consequences. He is often reckless and careless with little foresight. He has a good memory but is not overly smart or knowledgeable. He is actively looking for physical challenges and the adrenalin rush he gets from them, which sometimes backfires. These challenges were responsible for several injuries he has sustained over the years. Some of which he has not yet fully recovered from.

Bio: Alexander grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth. Being the son of a fairly successful couple of lawyers meant he never lacked for anything. But it also came with the heavy burden of his parents expectations. He was raised bilingual, entered special education programs from a young age and was expected to succeed in all of them, which he did not. His interest was not in becoming a academic, it was in sports. He loved the feeling of pushing himself to his physical limits and play sports. His parents however forbad him from joining any sort of club or team, fearing it would hinder his academic progress. In highschool he grew increasingly rebellious against his parents authority. So much so that he would miss study lessons with private tutors and classes. Unsurprisingly his marks suffered and his grades were too bad for the elite-university his parents had chosen for him. After a long and heated discussion with his parents a compromise was reached. Alexander would study sports medicine at a public university of fairly good prestige and become a doctor. This field of medicine actually interested Alexander and he started to take his studies seriously.

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Name: Skyen Tanberg
Age: 22
Description:
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Clothing from the past:
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Bio: Exchange student from Norway. Idolised her older brother as a child and followed him everywhere, which led to her starting all manner of martial arts at a very young age. Even when her brother lost interest, she stuck with it, enjoying the community and sense of self she found there.

Went on the excursion to the museum to learn more about American history, something she didn’t learn much about in school back at home.
 
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Something slapped her in the face. Amber grunted her irritation and reached up to swat at the offending object in return. The effort was wasted because it just returned and did it again. She decided to ignore it because it was the least irritating thing at the moment. Her head was throbbing like someone was beating it in with a baseball bat and her body felt like it weighed two tons. Even that small swat had cost her precious energy. In short, she felt like hell. Deciding not to move, Amber settled for just listening. She could hear the wind blowing through some nearby trees and the drone of insects as they went about their business. Between those sounds and the sun on her face, it was peaceful. Peaceful? That thought stuck her as odd. Her mind started to come back online then. Where was the traffic? The sounds of people snipping at each other? Heck, the dull tour guide? Those sounds were missing. In fact, she heard nothing that even sounded remotely city like.

Memory started to creep in then. She and a few other students had slipped off to explore on their own and had found a room full of medieval stuff. Nothing truly exciting really. Some old armor, weapons, and models of knights on horses and the like. Typical stuff, or so she had thought. In the back corner, she had found a weapon that called to her. Amber had no way to explain how her gaze had locked onto the thing. The glaive, she had had to read the little plaque to figure out what it was called, had stood about seven feet tall with an additional two and a half feet of blade on the end. The wood had been old, but looked sturdy, and the blade, while pitted with rust marks due to age, had looked to be in decent condition. That was when the urge had hit. She wanted to hold it, to feel it's weight in her hands. Amber had known better, and yet, even as she had told herself she shouldn't touch it, her hand had closed around the smooth wooden staff.

That had been when the world had turned itself upside-down. Her vision had narrowed until she could see nothing but her own reflection in the blade. Amber had felt a ringing sensation in her ears, and a tightness in her stomach and knew something was very wrong. Opening her mouth, she had tried to call to the others in an effort to save herself, but not even a squeak made it past her lips. All she could do, was stare at that blade as the world around her faded into nothing. Dizziness had taken her then, and she had felt herself falling, but she had never hit the bottom. Sometime during the fall, she had blacked out. Now she was lying somewhere out int he open on her back. Had someone found her? Security would've noticed the weapon had been moved and taken offense, but surely they would've woken her up and demanded answers. Surely one of the others would've tried to rouse her as well if she were passed out on the museum floor.

Amber muttered under her breath as that thing hit her again. Whatever it was was starting to irritate her. Enough delaying. Time to face the music. Open your eyes and figure out what is going on. With that pep-talk issued, Amber cracked her eyes open, and had to immediately close them with a small hiss. The bright light made her pounding head throb harder. Deciding that looking directly into the sun probably wasn't in her best interest, Morgan rolled to her stomach. From here, she pushed herself up to her hands and knees before daring to open her eyes again. She did so cautiously, and was relieved that her body's shadow was enough to spare them for the moment. Her vision swam for several seconds before deciding it wanted to cooperate and allowed her to focus. What she found, wasn't what she was expecting. Some sort of grain, she wasn't up enough on her plants to know just which one it was, was growing up around her and rose up to stand over her in her current position. The only excepting was the flattened patch beneath where her body had been laying.

Well, that and the cursed glaive she saw resting next to her right hand. Amber glowered at the thing before she really noticed the difference. Where before it had been pockmarked and worn with age, it now looked new. The blade was sharp and gleamed beneath the sun. Rust had never dared to touch it. The wood was smooth, but looked strong, not the brittle thing she had seen in the museum. That revelation made her pause. "I definitely fell down the rabbit hole..." she muttered to herself before turning her gaze down to check herself for injury. For all she knew, she had cut herself on the blade, and that particular injury hadn't made itself known yet. That thought was shoved aside though when she caught sight of her new attire. She was wearing some sort of leather bodice that form fit her upper body and ended just above her hips. A stiff leather belt was looped around her waist with a knife hanging from it, helping to keep the brown woolen trousers in place.

A white pelt cloak covered her shoulders and was held in place by a silver broach near the base of her neck. Taking a deep breath, she got to her feet, taking in the rest of her outfits. Sturdy leather boots covered her feet and rose clear up to the knee. Amber raised an eyebrow at those. At least those are practical. With no sign of her jeans, and unwilling to run naked, Amber decided just to run with it and turned her attention to her surroundings. She was laying in some field that stretched out for a good distance. To her left, a forest, and to her right, what looked to be a small village of some kind if she wasn't mistaking the shapes. It all looked very medieval with little hovels and stone fences. "That settles it. I'm lost." Bending down, Amber reached for the glaive, well aware that she didn't have the slightest idea of how to use the blasted thing.

While she would be the first to admit that she didn't know the first thing about the weapon, it was sharp and looked scary enough to give things pause. Or so she hoped. Amber took a deep breath and shoved the panic that was trying to grip her away. She didn't have time to contemplate the acid trip she was on. She had to figure out where she was, and if she was alone. She had no idea where she was, or what was going on, but she knew she wasn't going to face it unarmed. Narrowing her eyes, Amber began to scan the grain field for any sign of a depressed spot like the one she had been lying in. If her best friend had made the trip with her, she didn't want to go to far, but there was a chance she was alone. "Give it a few minutes of searching, then head to the village," she told herself. With that in mind, Amber started walking, keeping a sharp eye out for any sign of her companions.
 
Silence was never a good thing. The calm before a storm was silent. He would rather wake up to his mother’s banging of dishes, Zachary’s rambunctious yelling, or a crash from Paul’s antics. The silence made him jump. The moment he did, everything spun. A tornado of bright colors filled his vision and his body was sore as if Zachary tackled him for the sixteenth time. He wasn’t in a storm; he was in a hurricane of pain.

Immediately, he turned and threw up in the grass. Sour bile burned his throat as he dry-heaved. The storm stopped and the sound of his heaving ended the silence. Calming his body, but his body ached more. He took a deep breath, letting his senses settle. Grass was under him. How?

He was in a museum. He and other students decided to sneak off because they could learn better and finish the project faster (they were bored). They went to an exhibit featuring medieval weapons. That exhibit had a tile floor, not grass. He looked up slowly. Tall grain surrounded him, not weapons.

Well, he did spot one weapon. A longbow lay behind him. Its dark oak form gleamed in the sun as the bowstring pulled it back firmly in one tight arc. In the museum, it was dull and there were places where the wood peeled. The bowstring was so frazzled, it was barely able to hold itself together, much less the ends of the bow. Hayden knew it couldn’t have been the same bow, but the thrumming in his skin, the itch to touch it, hold it, use it, was still there.

Hayden blinked at the bow. Touching the bow was the last clear thing he remembered. He reasoned that it was safe to touch. It was not in a case and there were no signs. Surely it wouldn’t have hurt. It’s not like he was going to use it, he didn’t know how to use it. He just, he just wanted to touch it, to dream for a moment.

“And this is where I end up.” Hayden sighed. He glanced at the bow and slowly reached for it. His fingertips ghosted the weapon. The itch didn’t push him forward like last time, it lessened. He touched the weapon, nothing happened. Hayden lifted it, but nothing happened except for a sense of security. “Now your normal?” Hayden glared at the bow. It sat in his hand. His hand that was lacking his watch. Hayden blinked once more before examining his body.

“These, these aren’t my clothes.” Hayden gaped. Gone was his white button-up and black slacks. Instead, his body was weighed down with a dark brown vest that was buckled snugly across his torso, leather wrists guards, and a strap across his chest. Hayden trailed the strap, to feel a sheath full of arrows hanging across his back. Hayden pulled an arrow out. Thin white feathers were at the end shaft, and the arrowhead was made of a thin but strong iron component. Hayden’s breathing increased.

“Okay, okay,” Hayden put the arrow back slowly. “Maybe I just fainted from exhaustion. I did go to bed at 5 AM. So maybe I just had a fainting spell at the museum and hit my head.” Hayden stood up slowly. Something rattled and hit his side. He looked down to see iron guards for his knees and shins, and a worn ax strapped to his belt. He fingered the edge of the worn ax. The edge was sharp and immediately, it pricked his skin. “Crap!” Hayden stared at his bleeding finger.

“Okay, maybe not a dream.” Hayden fisted his hands, trying to stop the panic rising up. “First way to deal with an unknown factor, find someone, and get the information you can,” Hayden repeated the mantra as he surveyed the area. In the distance, he spotted something red in the field of yellow. Either it was one of the other students or someone home to this dream place. He couldn’t afford to be picky; he went towards the person.
 
Searing pain shot through his head, as if the entity called agony dressed up as migraine and was a child throwing a temper tantrum of epic proportions. Daniel screwed his eyes shut and gripped the temples of his head with the balls of his wrists, grinding them in a circular motion. As the initial shock wave of distress receded into a dull throbbing, Daniel's brain finally started processing the sensory information around him - the air was fresher than anything he'd usually experience, the light streaming into his eyes was definitively not the cheap artificial lighting of the museum, and he seemed to be surrounded by plant life.

What the hell happened? I must have blacked out. The only logical conclusion that could be reached was that they had already finished the museum tour, went out at night for a few drinks and got absolutely smashed. Still, that headache was far greater than any other hangover I've had...

Finally with his bearings, Daniel wrenched himself onto his feet and stretched his body in order to loosen it; his body was incredibly stiff for some reason. He looked down and realised he was clad in something that appeared to be leather, but somehow tougher and more durable. It was clothing that felt like it belonged to a different time, serving more practical usage than aesthetic, however there was loose fabric that looked like some sort of dumb cape or cloak.

Did we go to some sort of Renaissance fair whilst completely piss-drunk? I wouldn't put it past us... Shit, looks like I've lost my phone - hang on, where would I have even kept my phone in this thing?

He searched his body and found, instead of pockets, two scabbards slug across his belt - the handle of the blades were bound with black leather, the hilt decorated yet subtle, and the blade was short. Daniel knew very little about swords, but he recognised one aspect of the two: they were near identical in shape to the ones he picked up in the museum.

Am I a thief now too?! Shit. he thought to himself, as he carefully unsheathed each blade. The two in the museum were blackened with time, rust dulling each blade and making them indistinguishable from each other - this was not the case with these two blades. The first was emblazoned with fine details snaking around the guard, with the emblem of the sun at the base and the metal itself was shining in the sun as if it were fashioned from the brilliant rays themselves. The broad silvery metal was warm to the touch in a strange way. The other, as the moon, was a reflection of the sunlight, equally dazzling and brilliant with an almost penumbral glow along the blade, granting it an ethereal presence, but cold to the touch. The two blades complimented each other well.

What sort of nerdy LARP sword is this? Daniel briefly thought, before realising that the weight the blades possessed a weight that guaranteed that they were at least real metal. This is dangerous, he noted.

The one thing Daniel knew for sure was that he never got drunk alone, so there must have been fellow members of his entourage somewhere nearby, so there was no harm in shouting to search for them because the worst thing that could happen was some old lady telling him to quiet down or something.

"HEY! ANYONE AROUND? HELLO?" he cried out loud, waving his arms about. If none of his fellow classmates were there, he'd at least hope to attract the attention of a local homeowner so that they could call the police.
 
The first sense Skyen became aware of was sight. Well, if you could even call it that. Just the warm glow of light filtering through her eyelids, calling her consciousness from the void.

Next to return was her sense of touch. She seemed to be lying on her back on some kind of uneven, slightly prickly surface with a notable breath of cool air on the skin of her face and arms.

Shortly after that came hearing and smell, almost simultaneously. A rushing sound, not of water; something lighter. Yes. It sounded like the wind going through trees, but that still wasn’t quite right. Trees sounded different. There was also some kind of insect chirping to be heard, quite clearly now that she noticed it. The smell was more subtle; outdoorsy, earthy and warm.

All of this happened in mere seconds. As more of her consciousness returned, Skyen began to question where she was and what she was doing there. Searching her memory, she found a cut right after she and several other students had wandered into that strange room at the museum. How odd.

No matter who you asked, almost everyone had had a mental blank at some point, usually caused by alcohol. Skyen herself had managed that feat before. But this was different. She had no recollection of drinking or taking any other substance that might cause such a thing. She tried to trace her steps from that last memory.

So the museum. There had been that awful guide, who had made the most interesting topics sound endlessly dull, to the point that even the accompanying teachers were struggling to keep a politely interested facade. A few members of the group had wondered off, ending up in that strange room. It hadn’t been a display room. There were no plaques describing the artefacts and there seemed to be no system to the way they were laid out. Storage then? But why let them gather dust in the open rather than keep them in boxes or something? Surely it wasn’t good for ages old items to just lie around with no climatic stability or anything else to preserve them.

The group had split then, wandering between the weapons and armour. Skyen had quickly found a rack on the wall with various staffs. The first to catch her eye was a plain Bo staff, the kind used in various martial arts and probably the only item in the room she actually knew how to use. But next to it had hung something that called to her even more, despite her having no real knowledge of how to wield it.

A sansetsukon, or three section staff. She had once seen one of the masters at the dojo back home use one. The chain links connecting the pieces on this one however were so rusted, it looked as though they might snap at any moment and the wood was in little better condition. Blackened and worn, ripe for firewood perhaps but little else. Still it was just possible to discern a pattern engraved on the ends of each section, all swirls and sharp points.

Despite knowing that she shouldn’t touch it, that someone could be coming to look for them at any moment, she reached out to trace the pattern. The moment her fingers came into contact with the warm wood, it had felt as though the floor of the room lurched under her feet, knocking her off balance and to the ground. The last thing she remembered seeing as though through a long tunnel was the sansetsukon tumbling through the air towards her and the thought ‘ah shit, it’ll certainly break if it hits the floor!’ flashing through her brain before completely blacking out.

So she must have hit her head and blacked out, right? Rather humiliating for someone who had learned to fall properly almost at the same time as learning to ride a bike. Had the others found her and brought her outside? Would she be hearing sirens at any moment? Surely you called the emergency services if someone had collapsed for whatever reason. She almost felt bad to have woken up before they came and making their trip mostly unnecessary. Or at least she hoped unnecessary. She didn’t feel as though anything was wrong with her right now. Might as well test that though.

She tried to open her eyes. It seemed to work just fine, but with the light reaching her pupils without the shielding lids to soften it, a stabbing pain lanced through her head as though someone had driven a very long nail right through her eye and attempted to have it come back out at the back of her skull. With a stifled groan, she shut her eyes again, but it did little to stop the pain. Skyen tried to concentrate on staying relaxed, focusing on her breathing as much as possible, praying the contents of her stomach would stay where it was as the world seemed to spin around her even as she lay still.

It took a moment for the pain to recede to more manageable levels. Once it was more of a dull hammering, like several tic-tac sized miners digging deep underground, she squinted her eyes open once more. No renewed nails drove into her head, so she deemed it alright to open them fully, blinking up into a cloud studded blue sky.

At least now she knew what the wind sound was. All around the edges of her vision, a golden plant with long slender leaves waved to and fro in the breeze. Tilting her head slightly, she could identify it as some sort of corn or grain. A field? But there were no fields anywhere near the museum as far as she knew. How long had she been out for? Were the others playing some kind of trick on her?

Still puzzling over this, she took the time to check the rest of her body, wiggling her fingers and toes, tensing and untensing various parts of her body, shrugging her shoulders and lifting an arm above her head. Only once this was done did she push herself into a sitting position and finally catch sight of what was lying on the ground next to her.

It was a Bo staff, beautifully crafted from a grey coloured wood. Its caps had the same carving as the sansetsukon in the museum had had, though this one was far more detailed and precise. Where had it come from? The Bo in the museum had been plain and far older than this one, which looked completely new. Despite her recent track record of touching things she probably shouldn’t, Skyen picked the staff up, marvelling at its feel between her fingers.

Despite feeling terrible for disgracing the weapon so, she used to it to steady herself as she clambered haphazardly to her feet, still feeling rather punch drunk. Once she was steady, she could tell that the staff as almost as tall as she was, the exact right height, as though made for her. She also noticed another thing for the first time, as the wind swirled around her exposed midriff.

For a second she thought she was no longer wearing a shirt, then she realised she was wearing some form of wrap around crop top, with a long floaty sleeveless coat over it instead of the comfortable sweater she had pulled on that morning. Her jeans were gone too, as well as her sneakers, replaced by some form of cloth boots, bound tight around her calves and voluminous trousers, capped under the knee, held up by a thick sash around her waist, whose ends trailed almost to the ground. Her lower arms were also wrapped in bandages for some reason. Had she been hurt after all? She couldn’t feel anything wrong, but decided against peeling them off for now. Taking a furtive peek under the sash holding her trousers up, she confirmed that yes, even her underwear had changed from what she had worn that morning.

Looking around at the seemingly endless sea of golden grain, Skyen wondered what to do now. A part of her was still insisting that this was a prank, but it seemed a little too much effort for a prank; carting her out here into the middle of nowhere, changing her clothes and even her underwear and just leaving her with a beautifully crafted weapon by her side. Spotting another silhouette rise from the grain not too far away, Skyen set off towards it, still leaning rather heavily on her staff. Despite not being able to tell who it was, or if she knew them at all, at this distance, she reckoned it was still her best bet of finding out what was going on.
 
Alexander took a look through the tall window. Thick rain hammered against the glass, the miserable weather outside accurately reflecting his mood. The sound of falling rain didn’t quite manage to drawn out the monotone drivel coming from the tour guide in the next room. This had nothing to do with his studies. But since it was national history day, he had to listen to a grumpy old guy with a massive lack of enthusiasm about how Napoleon was not actually that small and so on. If this went on any longer, he might as well jump through this window and take his chances with a fall from the second floor.

Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed that other students slowly separated from the group as well, and started to stroll through the winding floors of the museum. Alex decided to follow them. If he got caught it might be better to be part of some group, rather than being on his own. The young man and women wondered around before ending up in some sort of storeroom, clearly not meant to be open to the public. Alexander let his eyes wander. Nothing really picked his interest. Some swords, some armor. Everything looked old but also uninteresting. He had seen swords before, he had seen armor before. This was nothing new. He yawned heartily and turned to leave when he glimpsed a spear, mounted on one of the walls. This spear was different. He could tell in an instant. The shaft was made of a pitch black wood, that showed no signs of age. The counterweight however was rusted and so was the metall holding the spear head. It’s blade still seemed to hold some sort of edge and a red gemstone reflected the little light coming from a small window to the west. He felt a strong urge to touch it, almost as if it called to him, pulling on the edges of his conscience. He stared at the weapon, almost hypnotized. Slowly he took a step towards it, then another. Before he noticed he stood directly in front of it, his eyes being fixed on the strange beauty the weapon seemed to radiate. He slowly reached out and gripped the cool, dark wood.

A flash of light and it felt like reality was folding itself like a piece of paper. Alexander felt a incredibly strong sense of foreboding, coupled with the urge to throw up, before everything faded to black.

Birds chirped cheerfully, Alexander groaned miserably. His head was pounding, like it had been bashed repeatedly with a blunt object. He blinked into the bright sunlight and what looked like shapes of trees, bushes and undergrowth. Slowly his field of vision came into focus. He was indeed in a forest. A small river gurgled somewhere nearby and the air was heavy with the scent of fresh forest air. This was definitely not just a normal daydream. Alexander slowly crawled to a nearby tree and hoisted himself up. He was breathing heavily and sweat ran down his forehead. Only now did he notice the metallic rustling of his clothing. He looked himself down, only to realize that he was wearing armor. And on the ground where he had awoken lay the spear. His memories rushed back to him. The museum, the spear on the wall. What in the world was the meaning of this? He took an uncertain step towards the weapon, legs still shaking. He picked it up and inspected it. All signs of age were gone from the weapon. It was polished and gleamed in the bright daylight. He reveled at the sheer sight of it as well as how it felt in his hands. It somehow felt familiar, like it was bonded to him in some way. He thrusted it into the air gingerly, trying to grasp the weight of it. He liked the feel of it. He started to stretch, testing out how much mobility he had within the armor. He was surprised to find that the armor restricted him far less than expected. It’s weight was however evident and while not a huge burden when moving around casually, he knew he wouldn’t get far running in it, if it came to that.

Alexander was excited to the point where he stopped questioning what had happened to him. He marveled at the sight of his surroundings, his armor, his weapon. Everything was new and exciting. He felt like a little child on its first visit to a theme park. Everything seemed grand and exhilarating. A short distance away he could see trees parting, exposing a vast field of grain. A clear sign of civilized life. Alexander ran towards it, ignoring the added strain the weight of the armor imposed on his physic. He reached the clearing and took in the view.

A small village of wood and stone houses stood on the other side of the fields. He could also see people, four of them to be precise. Metal glinted on some of them, indicating that they were armed. The one nearest to him, seemed to be a young women, holding some sort of glaive. She wore leather armor and looked familiar. Hadn’t she been one of the students? Alexander was not entirely sure, but the idea that he wasn’t the only one here made sense to him. He slowly walked towards her, raising his free hand in a non-threatening gesture. Some of the other people also seemed to be moving towards her. “Hey!” he shouted over the sound of the breeze. “Weren’t you also part of the museum tour?”
 
Amber had only taken a few steps before she heard someone shouting. The sound made her wince as her throbbing head responded. Annoyed, Amber rubbed at her temples even as she scanned the area for the source of the noise. What she found both thrilled her, and confused her. All around here people were rising up out of the grain field. The one shouting wasn't all that far away, but he had his back to her. From behind, she didn't recognize him, but some of the other faces, she could. The one leaning heavily on a staff of some sort was the foreign student. Her name was to much for Amber's throbbing head to come up with at the moment, but she had spotted her in the dorms from time to time. The archer making his way toward her, and the big armored dude creeping out of the trees were also familiar faces, although she only a vague sense of what their names actually were. They weren't biology students, so she hadn't really been introduced before they had all just kind of wondered off together.

Amber also didn't fail to notice that like her, they had all suffered a wardrobe change and were now bearing weapons of all types. With her throbbing head, Amber really wasn't in the best shape for hard thinking, but the hair on the back of her neck was definitely standing up. Something was very, very wrong here. Her gaze shifted to the glaive in her own hand. Something that had to do with the god forsaken weapon she had touched, she was sure of it. Her eyes narrowed on the blade at the end. What has happened? Where in the world are we? Amber shook her head. Now wasn't the time for such questions. They needed to get together and figure out if they were safe before shooting their mouths off like the dude shouting loud enough for all on god's green earth to hear. Instinct told her that she probably didn't want to draw the locals attention until they had gotten a chance to talk it out among themselves and get their story straight. Just as she came to that conclusion, the guy among the trees started yelling too.

Amber lifted her eyes up toward the sky and sighed heavily. Am I the only one with the sense of self preservation around here? she wondered. Perhaps it had to do with her early childhood with a literal whore of a mother. Drug dealers and other sketchy dudes had had been one of the first things she head learned about, and she knew the dangers that could come from drawing to much attention to yourself. For that reason, rather than yelling, Amber let out a sharp piercing whistle, hoping to catch everyone's attention. Lifting one arm, she waved at the others, then motioned toward the trees the guy in armor was coming out of. While the trees could be hiding unknown dangers, it would also keep whatever farmer owned the grain from possibly shooting a bunch of young adults who had been dumped in his field. Following her own directions, Amber stepped into the grove of trees and made her way toward the guy in armor.

Narrowed her eyes, she tilted her head and studied him, pushing through the raging headache until she was able to scrape up a name. "Alex, right?" she asked. "I'm fairly certain the whole lot of us were on that tour. What I'm not sure of is how in the world we got here, or even where here is. I'm also unsure we should be screeching like a seller at a farmer's marker trying to sell his goods. Besides, the yelling is not helping my head any." She rubbed at her temples again, trying to ease the pounding inside her skull as she leaned back against a tree trunk. "Do you have any idea how we ended up passed out in some field so far out in the middle of Bum Fuck Egypt that I can't hear a single car?"
 
The red-headed woman with a dangerous and deathly weapon turned around. For a moment, Hayden feared he would be on the deadly end of the weapon. The fear made his nauseous stomach lurch more as his hand tightened around the bow. He did not know how to use any of the items on him, but he was not going to die somewhere he did not know. Then he caught her familiar face. She was a student that wandered off with them. He was safe.

That was when the yelling began, two others yelled. One in the field that appeared to look like a medieval rogue with a familiar face and one clad in armor emerging from the trees. The yelling was familiar (and reminded Hayden of his brothers), but with the unknown surroundings, Hayden doubted that gathering attention was a good idea. He looked back to where they were looking, the red-headed student. She motioned to the trees.

Hayden nodded, understanding that it was probably for the best to discuss their, odd situation somewhere they could hide. Though it hit Hayden that the other people were part of the wandering group but they were not all of them. Hayden looked around. He caught sight of the foreign exchange student. Her clothes had changed and she was leaning on a staff as she walked. Her open sky-blue eyes showed a familiar confusion and wariness he felt. Hayden blamed it on his still throbbing head and rolling stomach that pushed him toward her.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly as he approached her, hoping to walk toward the clearing with her. She had the least dangerous-looking weapon, but it was still a weapon that was probably easier to use than a bow. He was approaching her for safety, that was all.
 
Ah, some familiar faces popped into view... one, two, three, and four. But something puzzled Daniel - they didn't seem to be replying to him and instead were quietly moving towards one another. There was only one logical conclusion, that they had seen each other but not him, so he tried harder to get their attention whilst moving towards the group. It was strange though, these didn't seem to be the usual people he went out drinking with, but they did look like the group that diverged from Tour Guide Snoozefest.

He started waving his arms as he trudged over, eventually reaching the trees whilst asking some questions at a considerable volume. "Hey guys! Must've been a wild night, huh! Where'd we get these clothes, amirite? Shit, I think we stole real weapons too, these things are heavy!" he said, brandishing both blades, which would seem quite dangerous but the severity of the situation hadn't really clicked for Daniel. As far as he was concerned, he had just ended up on someone's farm after a night of drinking, and it wasn't the first time that'd happened to him.

Now that he had a closer look, he realised that everyone was carrying something different, but just as dangerous. One of them was practically in a full suit of armour, and it must've been a nightmare to get into all that gear whilst piss-drunk. Respect. Now, Daniel wasn't stupid, so when he realised that everyone else kept on flashing him looks of be quiet! he got the message and continued to traipse towards them in silence. There was a simple explanation, he was sure, it was probably their first time getting drunk to this level and they didn't know how to proceed. Also, they must not be used to such a heavy hangover, so as the only one with much experience, he decided to let them have a moment of quiet since they were talking to each other and asking the basic questions of "where are we?" and "are you alright?", the standard first-timer questions before whispering "Probably copious amounts of alcohol I say. Does anyone have their phone on them? I seem to have misplaced mine and we should probably call someone to drive us back to campus."
 
Walking through almost waist high grain was harder than it looked, especially given her still slightly precarious balance. Getting closer to the others and able to discern a few details about them, Skyens first thought was ‘why am I the only one in a harem outfit?’

She tugged a little self-consciously at the ends of the long vest, wishing it was possible to tie it shut somehow rather than just having it flutter behind her. It wasn’t that she was overly modest, quite the contrary, she was usually very confident in her skin and knew that years of training had given her slim frame a rather sporting physique she was quite proud of. Still, having not chosen this outfit herself and being the only one of the group she could see showing much skin made her feel almost inappropriate.

When the redhead a little way away from her turned around, revealing herself to also be female and wearing a leather corset thing that revealed quite a bit of cleavage under the fluffy white cloak, Skyen felt a little better. At least whoever had done this to them hadn’t singled only her out for scant clothing, although she did notice that all of the men gravitating towards them seemed to be covered from head to foot, even if it certainly wasn’t anything normal people would usually wear. So much for equality and all that. The guy waving from near the tree line seemed to be wearing a whole set of armour if the metallic glint where the sun hit him was anything to go by. Perhaps her outfit wasn’t so bad after all. That suit looked heavy and probably felt like a furnace.

When one guy changed course and headed straight for her, she was wary, attempting to fall into a combat stance despite the muscles of her legs feeling like jello. Upon recognising him as one of the students she relaxed, leaning on her staff again. “Yeah, I’m fine… I think.” She fell into step with him as they made their way towards the others. “Are you? Do you have any idea what happened to us?”

Looking at the others around them once they reached the trees, she realised that they all came from the excursion, more specifically from the group that had left the official tour. At the question from a guy dressed all in black, she shook her head sadly. “Whoever did this took everything. And I’m not sure if getting back to campus will be that easy, even if we did have a phone...”
 
He pondered the question the young women had asked him for a while before slowly replying: “No, I have absolute no idea. We are clearly still in our normal bodies, it’s just our belongings and the surroundings that have changed.” He cast a look at the nearby village. “I can’t see any telephone masts or modern buildings. It looks almost medieval. Almost as if we had traveled back in time. That could also explain why our weapons are in such good shape now.” He scratched his head, his mind desperately trying to make sense of things. “But it makes no sense. You can’t travel back in time, and certainly not through touching some dusty weapons in a museum. It’s way too ... fantastical?”

Slowly the group gathered. Their gear and outfits differed quite a lot from each other. As far as Alexander could see, he was the only one in armor. Of course all their old stuff had vanished. His clothing, his phone, his wallet, everything. “I doubt this has anything to do with alcohol.” Alex replied to the young man wearing black leather armor. “We have been transported... somehow.” He probed the ground with his spear a couple fo times. “It must be related to the weapons. They are the only connection that ties ... whatever this is... to the museum.” He let out a sigh and let his glance wander over the strange group. Most of them looked capable, in one way or another. But of course he had no idea, what dangers this place held in store for them. There surely had to be a purpose for them being here. What purpose that might be was however unknown to him.

There was no guide, no manuals or explanations. They were here and that was it. There was no portal in the air and no weird summoning circle on the ground. No indication of any sort on what had brought them here. It was frightening and exciting at the same time. This was clearly some sort of adventure in one form or another, and Alex wanted to enjoy it, for whatever it was.

He cleared his throat and waited till their eyes were on him. “I guess we should first introduce ourselves to each other. It looks like we are in this together.” He nodded his head in greeting and started: “My name is Alexander, but people just call me Alex. I am 24 years old and study sports medicine in my third year. I enjoy team sports like football and volleyball and my favorite Netflix-show is Bojack Horseman.” He considered for a second before he continued. “I grabbed this spear in the museum, because I felt some sort of connection to it. Almost as if it was familiar with me somehow.” He looked towards the women, he faintly remembered as being called Amber, and addressed her: “How about you?”
 
Amber cringed again when the man started shouting again. She really wanted to crack him upside the head with her glaive. She was coming to the conclusion that the man was an idiot without the sense god gave grass. How he could possibly fail to notice the total lack of technology and ask about cell phones was beyond her. Without a phone tower, any phones they had would've been trash anyway. Not that they had that option to start with as Alex so kindly pointed out. At least she wasn't the only one to have no clue where here was. Alex had confirmed that he was just as confused as she was. Amber was glad to see someone else coming to a similar conclusion and blaming the weapons. Sadly, despite how fantastical it seemed, this was their reality. Her throbbing head proved that much. No dream ever came with a pounding skull.

Alex pulled her out of her thoughts by introducing himself and suggesting everyone else do the same. It wasn't a bad idea. After all, she didn't really know everyone either. "I'm Amber. I'm 21 years old and I'm in my third year of studying biology. Unlike our sporty friend over here, I'm more of a nerd." Amber sighed and looked at her weapon. "I can't say why I was compelled to touch this glaive, but touch it I did. I just couldn't not grab it. It almost felt like I was being called by someone who sounded just like me." Shaking her head, Amber let the glaive rest against her shoulder and looked at the group. Telling them that it had sounded like her own voice whispering in her ear to pick up the weapon and accept her fate was ridiculous.

"I agree with Alex. However we got here doesn't really matter though. The fact of the matter is that we are here now." Amber glanced over all of those gathering around her. No one looked injured, although a few seemed to be in a mild state of discomfort and a very real state of confusion. Well, everyone except the numskull going on about a wild night. She never drank. Drinking led to bad decisions, and she really didn't want to be responsible for waking up some morning expecting a kid and no clue who the daddy was. All of the students around here seemed to be armed in some fashion, although the foreign student didn't seem to have an actual bladed weapon Just a staff. "If it was the weapons that brought us here, they obviously aren't taking us back. By the looks of it, we've all retouched the weapons by now, so clearly that's not the path back." Her gaze shifted to the village. "I have a feeling that we are going to be here a while."

A mixture of unease, curiosity, and excitement ran through her. It wasn't everyday that an artifact from a museum dragged someone off to god only knew where. The fact that five of them had made the trip was insane. Clearly there was something going on here that they had no comprehension of. Right about then, Amber saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning, Amber saw something glowing softly in the bush to her right. Squinting at it, Amber made out a small face and a set of wings on the little glowing creature that was laying on one of the leaves peering up at them. Blinking, Amber confirmed that it wasn't a figment of her imagination, especially when she saw a small smile appear on it's little face. "Umm...Not to alarm anyone, but I'm either seeing a pixie, or I are something bad before our trip today," she remarked, her eyes never leaving the little creature who was no more than two inches tall.

The creature's grin widened slightly before it reached up and touched it's nose. With a wink and a flick of it's wings, it dove into the bush and out of sight before the other's could catch sight of it. Amber shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. Was it the headache causing her to see things? Had she just fallen in the museum and cracked her head off something on the way down and was in a coma? She hoped not, but faeries, or as they were called in Ireland, the fae folk, weren't real. Or were they? Irish people of old swore up one side and down the other that they were real. What is happening to me? she wondered.
 
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“Unfortunately, it’s a no to both questions.” Hayden sighed quietly at the girl’s questions as they went forward. They quickly reached the trees and the others. It seemed that everyone was in the same unfortunate state of confusion and pain.

Hayden leaned against a tree and crossed his arms as he listened. Theories of alcohol and wild parties were introduced. But one person, the one in armor, brought up the weapons. Hayden eyed each person, and sure enough, each person had a weapon from the exhibit, in new mint condition.

Hayden blinked as something settled in his stomach at the word “fantastical.” He wasn’t a conspiracy theorist, but he wasn’t a skeptic either. Yeah, the situation they were currently in did seem, outlandish, but there wasn’t any proof saying that anything here was supposed to be normal.

The armored person introduced themselves as Alexander, a third-year student studying sports medicine. Hayden noted how the athlete got the warrior’s suit. Then the redhead was Amber in her third year studying biology. Her weapon, a glaive, was a more precise version of the spear. Hayden wondered what that said about her. Then she glanced at something. Hayden followed her eyes as she talked about pixies. Hayden didn’t see a pixie, but he definitely saw the movement of bush leaves. Either everyone would write it as a hallucination or that Amber was crazy. It was highly doubtful that a third-year biology student would suddenly break into a nervous wreck or go insane in a snap.

“Hayden Castillo,” Hayden spoke up, hoping to draw attention away from Amber’s observation. His voice was a bit raspy from the episode from before. “23, accounting. Got the bow.” Hayden lifted the object lightly before putting it down and reclaiming his position. If anyone asked about his short introduction, he already planned to blame it on the state of his throat. Not the way his hands were clammy and his skin tingled as he kept his eyes downward. He always hated class introductions.
 
It all made sense now. These people were still LARPing around and he was spoiling their fun!

God, sometimes these so-called 'role-players' took it all so seriously. I might as well play along. Daniel thought to himself, as that was the most logical conclusion he could come to and he really didn't want to step on their toes whilst they were enjoying their hobby. It appeared they were in the introduction stage. "Ah, I see now - Daniel White, 21, Chemistry. I'm new to this but I'll give it my best shot."

Amber was raving about some sort of pixie so Daniel assumed this was some plot thread that he didn't get the memo for, but he'd play along anyway. He thought about doing an over-the-top 'Hark, we must make haste!' but he thought maybe the rest of them would get offended by him not taking their hobby seriously, so he played the same character as everyone else, the 'I don't know what's going on, but it must be this magical weapons!' character.

"Alrighty, so we have magic weapons and pixies - so I'm guessing there's some prophecy for us to uncover, so let's go and ask the town folk unless you want to hunt for that pixie you were talking about earlier. I might as well get some practice with these guys." Daniel said, gesturing to his swords. He put them back in his sheath and continued, "...but, I don't know how many hours of daylight we have. We may have to seek refuge in whatever without the help of Trivago, so we should make a decision sharpish."
 
By the time they reached the trees, Skyen was feeling a little better. At least enough so to stop using her staff as a crutch. It felt astoundingly natural to tuck it under her arm the way she had seen the instructors in the dojo back at home do.

She listened carefully to each introduction, toying with the end of the long thick braid her hair was in (another thing she was sure she had not chosen to wear that morning), trying to commit each to memory. She was terrible at remembering names but had a feeling that the whole group was stuck together for a while, so felt it was important. At the very least she didn’t want to annoy anyone by asking their name over and over again.

Just like everyone else, she stared at the bush Amber indicated, but didn’t see anything except a slight movement of the leaves which could just as easily be attributed to the wind. Rather than keep watching the plant life, her eyes flicked back to the red head. She seemed a rather down to earth person, not someone who would randomly invent things and looked genuinely confused. Before anyone could say anything else about it, the guy with the bow who had come over with her, drew the groups attention by continuing their introductory round.

Skyen frowned a little at Daniels introduction. New to what exactly? Being dumped in a field? Did he really expect anyone of them to have experience in that?
She was about to open her mouth and take her turn in the introductions, when he continued speaking, spouting something about prophesy and gesturing around a little wildly with the two blades he was holding. Skyen was quite glad when he returned them to their sheaths. She didn’t feel like getting cut to ribbons just because this guy didn’t know what he was doing.

Once he was done, she cleared her throat, half to ease her throat and half to remind the guy that she was still here and didn’t appreciate being overlooked in favour of his gallivanting off with wild, half assed ideas of hunting potentially imaginary beings while brandishing glorified butter knives.

“What are you going to practice on? A tree? Or are you going to just go cut down the people who live here? I highly doubt that you’ll meet a couple of animated slimes in tutorial mode.”
The quip came out harsher than she had wanted it to, but once the words were out, you couldn’t take them back anyway, so she continued, turning slightly to incorporate the rest of the group and trying to mellow her tone a little.
“Skyen Tanberg. I’m 22 and study English and Language Studies.”

She ficked her wrist to bring the staff forward to show the others, letting it lie gently in her palms. “This is not the thing I touched in the museum. Its design looks very similar but it was a Sansetsukon or a Sanjiegun; a three section staff, not a complete one like this.” She shrugged slightly, twirling the staff in her hands once before letting it rest back at her side. “I know a little more what to do with this than the sansetsukon, so I certainly don’t mind, but it is a little strange.”

She paused, eyes flicking to Daniel, before continuing, “I do agree that it might be best to go to the village. Maybe we can find out where we are there.”
 
Alexander looked at the spot Amber had indicated but he couldn’t see anything that resembled a pixie. The bush looked... well... like a bush. With small sticks and leaves and so on. He wouldn’t have been surprised though. Too many mysterious and unexplainable things had happened today. A small winged creature with human features would be the least of their problems. He almost expected some ork or goblin to jump out of the dense undergrowth and charge at them. Fortunately for them everything was quiet... for now at least.

He also wondered about the other weapons. His spear was pretty straight-forward. You thrust or throw a spear, not much too it. A bow was simple too but required training to actually wield it properly, same with the daggers. The three section staff and the glaive on the other hand looked incredibly complicated and Alexander wondered if the two young women would actually know how to wield them. Well, hopefully none of them would have to use their weapons in actual combat, but Alexander had a feeling that their weapons were given to them to be used, and not to be a awe-inspiring display item one would hang over a nice and cozy fireplace.

Alexander considered their options. “We should definitely check out this village. But I think it might be better if we don’t just rush in.” He fidgeted a little. A small sign of nervousness betraying his otherwise rather stoic and self-assured demeanor. “I mean, it’s very unlikely but they might be hostile. Maybe we should scout the village out first, before we approach any of its inhabitants.” He let his gaze wander over his peers, standing beside him. “Any of you any good in that sort of stuff? Sneaking around I mean.”
 
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