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Cam and Sable in Terraria
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Cam is dipping a grilled cheese sandwich into a bowl of tomato soup when he feels the summons. He goes ahead and grabs it. Doesn't even drop the sandwich.

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He arrives in a strangely regular forest; all the trees are the same species, their trunks perfectly straight and of a single uniform diameter.

The grass beneath him is unmarked. There is no circle in sight.

A man stands nearby, wearing blue jeans and a grey button-down shirt. He looks at Cam, smiles a slightly blank smile, and holds out a rough canvas sack whose shape suggests it contains some long-handled tools.

"If you want to survive, you will need to create weapons and shelter," he says serenely. "Start by chopping down trees and gathering wood."
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"...I'm immortal and don't need to hurt trees for anything I find useful to have," Cam says, "also where's my circle, do you have one of those light projectors and hauled it out to an obviously demonic forest by an uncreative demon, why are you letting me talk -" Cam stretches a wing.

He takes a few steps, when his wing doesn't stop at a circle border.

"Did you just summon an unbound demon to, I don't even know what you're doing. To LARP with?"
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"You can use your pickaxe to dig through dirt, and your axe to chop down trees," the stranger says helpfully, continuing to hold out the sack and giving no sign he has even noticed that Cam said anything.

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"Those being more or less the definitions of those kinds of tools, yes. Why do you want a demon to LARP with?"

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"Once you have a wooden sword, you might try to gather some gel from the slimes," says the apparently very dedicated or possibly mentally troubled LARPer. "Combine wood and gel to make a torch!"

A small white bunny hops past, taking no notice of either of them. A few seconds later, another, identical bunny follows it.
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"This is weird and you are weird and I'm not playing. You can send me back or you can release me into the world, up to you."
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"If you want to survive, you will need to create weapons and shelter. Start by chopping down trees and gathering wood," he says, with the exact same tone and inflection as the first time, still holding out the sack.

From off to Cam's left, there is a horrible squelching noise. Chunks of bloody white fur fly in every direction. At the epicenter of the explosion is a bloodstain on the grass and a roundish greenish blob of some pale translucent substance, just about bunny-sized. It scrunches down and wiggles slightly.
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"...What."
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Scrunch. Wiggle. Hop! The green blob sails through the air over their heads and lands in the grass on the other side with a soft plop.

"Once you have a wooden sword, you might try to gather some gel from the slimes. Combine wood and gel to make a torch!" says the human(?), still holding out his sack.

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"That's a slime? Why the hell would somebody make those? Also how hard is it to understand I don't want to LARP with you dude."

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"When you have enough wood, create a Workbench. This will allow you to create more complicated things, as long as you are standing close to it," he says. His arm must be getting tired from holding out that sack, but he doesn't show any sign of it. His facial expression has not changed once.

The green blob scrunches again. Scrunch. Wiggle. Scrunch. Wiggle. Hop! Away it goes.

A small white bird flies through the air overhead, tweeting.
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Maybe this is a demonically-made human body with, like, animatronics in his jaw. That would explain it.

Cam flaps his wings to take off and see if he can figure out where he is. Probably Earth, given the look of the sky, but the trees were too uniform to have not been made, so this could be a big demon-generated setpiece somewhere else entirely.
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Well.

He is on an island, irregularly shaped and about three miles across. The island is a patchwork of smallish, clearly delineated areas in exactly five types: forest, snow, sand, different forest, some kind of weird red thing. No other islands are visible nearby.

A razor-edged blue feather, about four feet long, arrows out of the clear sky and hits him in the wing. From the direction of the feather, a blue-haired woman with blue-feathered wings edged in dark red-brown swoops down at him, firing more feathers through no obvious mechanism; they seem to just appear in front of her already in motion. Also, she wasn't there last time he looked in that direction, and there really isn't anything up here for her to have hid behind.
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"Whoa! Hey! Sorry, angel, I did not mean to trespass, I got summoned here, I'm not trying to make trouble!" Cam exclaims. "Please stop shooting at me!"

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Feather. Feather. Feather. Swoop. She passes close enough for him to see the blank expression on her face, then veers away and circles back.

Another, identical angel(?) appears, also from exactly the direction he isn't looking, and also begins firing feathers at him.
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Cam tries the five words of a common angelic language he knows. "I mean no harm! Sorry!"

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Nope. Now there are two identical angels(?) pelting him with sharp stiff feathers. Their flight pattern is oddly repetitive: swoop close while firing, veer away and circle back, repeat.

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Okay. Now these angels have their feet encased in blocks of solid gold up to their knees, enough of it that they'll find it difficult to wiggle out, but if they try Cam'll renew the substance.
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The added weight encumbers them enough that they start losing altitude. They make no noise, but continue firing feathers at Cam as they sink.

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Weirdass angels. They'll... probably get out eventually.

If they're angels.

He doesn't actually know how any daeva working alone would pull off the feather trick.

He catches a feather when it bounces off his leg and studies it, circling the weird patchwork island.
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It's blue, and stiff, and sharp. Much too straight and regular and symmetrical to be a natural feather, and it's not clear what it's made of besides something stiff that can hold an edge. A few seconds after he grabs it, it dissolves into thin air.



Another angel(?) of exactly the same type the first two appears behind him and engages in exactly the same attack pattern.
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He grounds this one without attempting diplomacy. He flies higher in case there's other land he can aim at within squinting distance. He makes himself a set of good binoculars to increase squinting distance.

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The binoculars serve to make it clear that in a... perfectly square configuration around the island, at a distance of about five miles from its center, the actual air and water are obscured by an impenetrable sky-coloured haze.

Something or someone seems to be emerging from the haze, over thataway.
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Another weirdass angel?

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Well, it's a person with wings... at this distance it's hard to make out what kind of wings they are even with binoculars, but they're not blue and brown.

She is approaching pretty rapidly, though, at a speed that by itself suggests 'fairy'.

(Another weirdass angel appears out of nowhere to hurl blue feathers at him.)
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