headed straight for the witches' castle

[groundrules]

Welcome to the bashful event covering 17 September – 9 October, working double duty as a test drive meme (TDM).

Existing players can strut their stuff here, or make separate logs & network posts. Our TDMing guests are stranded in this playground, but can include network options among play prompts.

If you’re test driving a character, you can apply them until 8 October without a game invite. Apps stay open beyond that, but you might need an invite or please get in touch @ groundrules to figure something out..

SCALE THE TOWER

---

Cousins Macaluso and Vannozza Spina vie for the favour of the witches of Bessis, in their bid to succeed their grandfather Bonaccorso as liege of magical citadel Taravast. In exchange for their endorsement, the Bessis have asked both electoral candidates to present extraordinary sorcery at a fete commemorating the Bessis truce with fellow court witches of Attaryl.

On the day of the distasteful masque held in the upper levels of the Bessis tower, characters assigned to support Macaluso and Vannozza will split into two espionage missions — one upstairs alongside courtiers, charlatans and the Bessis, and another deep below, crossing abandoned aqueducts. Characters can participate in either effort, but should be discreet if they’re working against their patron.

It’s all fun and games if you’re enjoying Bessis hospitality upstairs — test drive characters might be rating their hotel stay a little less enthusiastically.

TDM TOURISTS | UPSTAIRS (TEAM MACALUSO) | DOWN BELOW (TEAM VANNOZZA) | COMMON TIMELINE | NOTES & MAP



TDM TOURISTS

Days ago, you woke up sequestered in an immense bird cage, chained near the ceiling of a tall, dark room that once served as a library or academic hall. Imprisoned with you are several strangers, equally warded from their supernatural powers and partly sedated — all the better to amuse the nearly two dozen (visibly) undead who roam the room, despite being loosely fettered to posts. They often swing for your cage, but fail to reach it.

■ Sorcerer sentries briefly release characters daily to feed or bathe in a repurposed nearby quarter with a large pool.

■ Characters receive basic devices that translate speech and writing, so they can understand their caretakers’ instructions. All along, the guards urge, Keep the animals distracted.

■ The undead reek of burning and wail their hurts. They are gifted in telepathy and often mentally share memories of carnage — two armies of sorcerers, one raining fire upon its enemies. At night, the undead seek to control the minds of caged characters, luring them to come down or harm others.

■ Necromancers sometimes visit to study the undead. The latest necromancer guest temporarily immobilises the creatures and throws three bundles of identical keys into the cage — he reveals he is employed by a Merchant, who wants the outsiders to travel east and return to their homes. They are currently in Taravast, captives of the witches of Bessis, who hold annual celebrations tonight. The keys will help with escaping the cage and accessing nearby tunnels.

■ The necromancer leaves behind rope, two daggers, and three potion vials that generate mist once smashed on the ground. Leave within an hour of your dinner, he says, before releasing the undead from his magic.

■ Get out. As soon as you can, running like hell from guards and the undead. If caught, the undead will rip you to bathe in your body’s waters and ease their burns.

■ The underground tower tunnels are patrolled by guards, who can be overpowered by groups. Characters will recover any supernatural powers within 40 minutes of leaving their prison. Escape tip? Steal the guards’ clothes.

■ The tunnels inevitably lead to the aqueducts, allowing you to meet Vannozza’s group.

» GET WET



UPSTAIRS

The halls of the Bessis sprawl over a pristine ivory tower, whose walls refract light in homage to the witches’ devotion to fire.

The tower receives guests today to celebrate the armistice between the sorcery schools of Bessis and Attaryl. The two groups futilely sought to slaughter each other many moons ago, with the Bessis notoriously gaining the upper hand — explaining the tense smiles of the Attaryl witches on premise.

The event is a standard Taravast masque: if there were coin to spare, someone poured it into the obscene dining displays and alcoholic fountains. Enjoy dimmed lights, the rare pickpocket or recreational narcotic — or test your luck at gambling tables, where winners can claim a forcibly extorted secret from losers over games of dice or cards.

Come masked and visibly unarmed — weapons are confiscated at the doors. Smuggle them in. Just outside the tower, take a walk through labyrinthine walled gardens surrounding a deep water moat and leading to abandoned aqueduct pipelines.

OF NOTE:

■ Magical sentries — armed with swords and fire spells — watch the banquet halls, stairs and outside grounds.

■ Bessis practitioners showcase fire, wind, water and air dances in the reception halls, along with performing token duels. Get involved, if you want.

■ Don Urbano, a respected Bessis sorcerer returned from abroad, announces his betrothal with Wen Qing, as orchestrated and financed by Beitang Moran.

■ Come sundown, Macaluso invites fete guests, Vannozza and the Bessis to join him on the balconies and behold the canal moats, where swims his recently captured white dragon. The creature is magnificent but tense, its ice power crackling.

ASSIGNMENTS:

■ Run recon of the halls. Keep track of guards, divert them from the aqueducts and alert your friends downstairs of their presence. Be obnoxious, loud and attention-grabbing when sentries get near the opened aqueduct entrance.

■ One of the night’s most profligate gamblers, Caterina Zalle, leads a coalition that produces magical weapons. She is allegedly in talks with forces abroad that fight their undead oppressors. Even tipsy, she only speaks with those who best her at the gambling table — pair up and figure out how to cheat improve your chances, then drop a line here to win donna Caterina’s answer(s).

» SMILE AND CARRY ON



DOWN BELOW

A jaded spirit, Vannozza knows Macaluso’s historical patronage of the Bessis makes them unlikely to favour her. Better to take advantage of leaked information: the Bessis hide a secret that’s required them to mysteriously invite necromancers each day. Learn what the Bessis are shrouding, so Vannozza can extort them later.

The lady offers her protegees — and anyone dragged along for the ride — a map to abandoned aqueducts accessible through the sentry-patrolled gardens that surround the tower of the Bessis. Guards will be thinner at the start of the evening festivities, but keep in touch with your counterparts upstairs, who can distract them while you infiltrate.

■ The aqueducts can be entered through a shielded gateway that will require characters to dig extensively for access. Divert the guards creatively: use magic, tricks, everyone is a hapless beggar or a drunk...

■ The intricate waterways once served Bessis sorcerers who specialise in water arts. The pipelines range from roomy and rusted to highly claustrophobic and slick with a coating of dark tar that gradually starts to follow you.

■ You find out quickly why the pipes were abandoned: the tar starts to accrue behind you, taking your shape and diplomatically doing its best to choke or drown you. Luckily, the creatures disperse after scant minutes — characters who traversed the Stairs of Sighs will recognise this is the same molten tar found in the rocky corridors.

■ Brace yourselves — for a short stretch, the canal dips into the moat surrounding the tower, home to Macaluso’s dragon. The creature is currently peaceful, but its constant chill has largely frozen the waters. Swim across the moat through ice pellets to re-enter the canals.

■ The aqueducts ease characters into pool quarters, which show signs of recent use for bathing. In the nearby corridors, guards are posted before a room that erupts in frequent howls. Get in, somehow —

■ ...and find a large study hall with an immense suspended cage, a series of freshly freed newcomers and undead witches, who use telepathy, levitation and light mind control to their advantage.

■ Now, you take your newcomer fools, choose between returning through the aqueducts or daring the heavily guarded tower corridors — and you run.

» UP WE GO



EVERYONE TOGETHER NOW

Nothing spices a party like nearly two dozen undead witches that seek to salve their burn wounds with the blood of the living. Some undead invade the banquet halls, others the gardens, while a few head into the aqueducts. They use telepathy, levitation and mind control diligently — and wear the decayed insignia of witches of Attaryl.

The chaos and the undead that enter the moat agitate the water dragon, who goes on hours of rampage, breathing sheets and walls of ice around the tower and effectively locking everyone within for two-three days.

...with the wandering undead. The witches of Bessis assist with fire magic and torches, but it’s every man for himself. Beware: the dragon starts with magical attacks, but quickly progresses to throwing itself bodily to topple the tower.

TO-DO LIST:

■ Calm or immobilise the berserk dragon to ease the ice storms
■ Capture the fire-fearing undead
■ Protect and evacuate Taravast’s useless 1%
■ Stay alive?

NOTES & MAP

■ Old timers: GO HERE to vote on the fates of the dragon and later, the undead! And ask any questions you might have.

■ TDMers: TDM events count as game canon if you app in! TDM questions here.

Comments

hermione granger (hp)

[reparo]

(for the fellow tourists) birds of a feather

[The first night is hard. The undead reek, and their thoughts travel in ways that reek of Dark Arts, for which she spends the entire night with her fingers in her ears and her eyes closed, reciting passages of Hogwarts: A History under her breath to calm down, then passages of Beedle the Bard. She read that book from front to back in the last six months, trying to figure out why Dumbledore would've gifted her anything in his will, trying to figure out how she would help Harry, if she could help Harry.

(Also, as an aside: does she not deserve a break? Months on the run, her parents Obliviated and in Australia, and surviving the Battle at Hogwarts and what's her reward? Waking up locked up in a strange place with an army of undead beneath the cage that holds her? Madness!)

(As another aside: she might lose her mind.)

And yes, in conclusion, the first night is hard. The next day, they are given crystals, and in any other world, Hermione would marvel at the magic that imbues them, something that lets her understand her captors - and her fellow-prisoners - at last, except for the fact that what she hears is blood curling.]

Hey - hey - we are not animals! [Reckless. So foolish. Shouted at the guard - snapped really - before she can even stop and think. She realises, from the look she gets, that her words went in one ear and went out through the other. With a huff, she jostles the crystal, and tries to get it to work in reverse, make it translate her to them, still speaking it clearly:] We are not animals. Release us. We are not animals - release us. We are not - argh, bloody baubles!

(for everyone) escaaaaaaaaaaaape

[She's free - she's running. If a few days prior, she would have been upset to be on the run again, at this stage she is grateful to be free, and grateful she gets to run. So she starts running, her pulse skyrocketted, adrenaline high. Under her breath, the desperate plan:]

Get the wand, get out, get the wand - [Oh - no - she's running. The wand, the guards - she saw it in a box with belongings of the other prisoners, probably mistaken for a stick, and she'll be damned if she leaves this place without it. She stops mid-run, does a one-eighty degree turn and sorts through the group of fellow cage-dwellers on her way back into the room they were just freed from.

She sees that look, you!] It's fine, keep going! I just need to get my wand - and then I'll help!

e s c a p e

[downswing]

[ The guards, the dead, the girl, the riot —; outside, the spell of white, thundered sound and the thrashing that quivers stone walls, and he knows, in the belly of the tower, on stairs descending to the prison halls, knows the dragon creature's unleashed itself.

Too many steps, brittle and spiked energy and the crackle of fire as the witches come alive in the corridor. The dead descend on them — in this, hand steady on his sword, pose serpentine before the strike, Lan Wangji is fortunate. Their pursuers are different from the dead of before, faster, more predatory. Lan Wangji pivots, nearly sets to strike, but then...

...one of the girls who had swum in the crowd of manic-stricken, white bright-eyed fleeing prisoners turns in her path. Fights to carve her way back, where the flood of dead proves unending, and Lan Wangji raises his sheathed sword, Bichen's iced gleam warning, introducing it to the side as barrier, to cut the girl's advance. Listen: ]

They will bar your path. [ No, she is young in this, they are always young before slaughter. He must speak the plainer for it: ] They will savage you.

[reparo]

You are barring my path. [Snapped, impatiently, and definitely unkindly, because there is a sword in the way, and she can't walk through a sword. But the direction she is facing now - which is decidedly back, where she was minutes ago, looks grim and dangerous, and she might be the only fool trying to go back.

It's a stick, Hermione, it's just a stick.

She looks - makes brief eye contact with her would-be barrier, then nearly twitches in the direction again, a longing in her chest. Brightest witch of her age and you can't even handle magic without a stick?

There's defeat between her shoulder blades now, a tight knot. She sighs.] If I get to the guards' room, I can get my wand - I can fight the witches too.

[downswing]

[ She singes. Of women who would have their way, this is their instinct: jaw tight, tongue sharpened, their ache coiled and turned hard-tipped against you. He bars her path. So be it, arm strong and his sword held high, a wall raised amid stench of molten plaster and burning curtain velvets, of flesh shrivelled and the wails of the dead who remember enough of their humanity to yield animal sounds.

He flinches only once when a fright-stricken guest of the fete draws his axe out and rushes past, to meet a howled end at the claws of the incoming dead. Crossfire: so many of them have meddled and mingled in the ill-lit corridor that they assault one another without test or inspiration. ]

Weapons — [ And the grit of his teeth, grip on the hilt of her, Bichen< his soul fractioned — ] Can yet be recovered. Substituted.

[ Hypocrisy drenches him. Would he not turn for Bichen, were the blade lost to him, once again, thereafter? Irrelevant. This girl's instrument might house her affection — but it need not cost her life. ]

You cannot go alone.

[reparo]

[The bloody fight between someone and the undead is going to stay with her now. She's facing it when it happens, witnesses it in front row, a gruesome spectacle. Worse than the battle, and also not; back there - what, days ago from her perspective? - it had been friends falling victims to killing curses, and she had been surrounded by allies, and she had known the world and where she stood in it and how to fight in it.

And here, she doesn't even know for a fact if the wand - if her magic - will work.

There is no such place as Taravast on Earth, so wherever she is... If she wants to get back, she has to head East. Not die here.

She looks towards the barrier man again, and gives him a very brief nod.]

I cannot ask you to come with me. [A dying groan from the undead a little way away in the hallway.] And - alright, I don't actually want to die. It's just - it's just a stick! [A little hysterical laugh here, then she gives the stranger a serious, solemn look.]

If you see a fallen witch holding one, tell me.

[That said, however, she's ready to keep running.]

[downswing]

You have not asked.

[ And still, he shrouds her, Bichen unveiling like a silvered eye, weeping cold light in lone warning — the sword speaks of fire in the lost tongue of dangers that the dead still understand. They do not plunge for the blade, but two tense like taut string beside the walls, watching from the corner of unseeing eyes, before seeking purchase of their fresher prey, claws rattling the rib cage of a man collapsed, bringing out the thick rope of his intestines.

Lan Wangji looks away first, sickened by the blasphemy of assault without purpose, without result. This is no war, to name one man victor, the other righteously succumbed, and the greater cause served. They do not fight before the heavens.

Unbidden, he steps forward first, calling the girl behind with the wave of a hand, disrupting the crowd with his sword to gain passage — hoping she will know to keep the pace with him, in the spreading pools of blood. Back, and the corridor only tightens like wet ribbon here, grows small, and their odds of traversing discreetly lesson. He cannot watch her back. ]

Grip me if they assault your back. [ He hesitates, walks on. ] We seek what manner of... wood?

[ No. Surely not. But she says, a stick. ]

[reparo]

The kind that produces magic. It's - like a focus. [It's difficult to explain wands to someone who's never seen them, and run from the undead and the guards at the same time. Nevermind that it violates the statute of secrecy - sod the statute of secrecy right now, because wherever she is, she doubts Aurors are going to show up and whisk her away. In fact, she'd even prefer it, but that's something to try another day.

She keeps up with the man, simply because she's been running for so long this past year that the pace doesn't surprise her.]

Oh, god. [She walks faster past the blood and the corpses, trying to not look, trying to not remember them, shoulders tense and jaw clenched. Not the right time to have a panic, definitely.

So she latches onto something safe and known: asking questions.]

You - are very good with that. Is it a magic sword?

escape!

[lancifolium]

[ Wand?

Lily had been so focused on covering their retreat that she nearly misses the word being used by someone further up ahead, and the surprise of it causes her to trip over her own feet. She had become used to being anomalous in this world for her use of a wand, and hearing someone else asking of one sent a ripple of hope through her. Merlin's beard they even sounded English.

Regaining her footing as the young woman moving against the flow of the rest of the group came into view Lily darted to her side. ]

I can help you.

[ Giving the stranger a solemn nod she held up her own wand before tilting her head in the direction they had come from. ]

Let's go.

[reparo]

[She might not recognise the woman who speaks, but she recognises the wand she brandishes, immediately. Hermione's heart leaps, and a fragile sort of hope blossoms in her.]

You're a witch!

[Of course there's also the other part. The smile. Recognition - familiarity!] Oh thank Merlin, I thought I was making a mess out of explaining wands.

[At this point, though, after a very reasonable human barrier has made the fine point that backwards lies danger, she's no longer keen to drag anyone towards mortal peril for the sake of a wand.]

This place - this city, wherever it is, can I get one anywhere else? [There are spellcasters all around, surely someone will have heard of wandmaking? And then it hits her, all of a sudden - the box was open last she saw it, and this here is a witch.

You're a witch, Hermione!]

Can you accio it?!

[lancifolium]

[ In her travels on this side of things Lily had come to realize that the term witch wasn't always meant in the spirit she knew it ought to be, but hearing it said with such relief would have been almost delightful were it not for these dreadful circumstances they all found themselves in.

Later, hopefully, they would be able to have a much more leisurely conversation about the matter, and Lily would allow herself to be pleased by this unexpected rush of familiarity. ]

I can try.

[ Keeping a firm grip on her own wand in the hopes that she didn't merely end up trying to summon a thing she already held, Lily cleared her throat and extended her free hand in the direction they had come from. ]

Accio!

[reparo]

[Words are not enough to express how grateful she is to have run into a person who casts spells with wands as well, and who knows Accio, and is willing to help her. She doesn't use words - being too busy holding her breath and waiting.

Three seconds.

Five seconds.

How long did it take Harry to summon the broom from Gryffindor tower? That broom crossed the whole castle before making it to his hands, and definitely hadn't been instant.

Ten seconds.]

I don't think it worked.

[And then, whizz right past her and into this magnificent saviour-friend-angel's hand: a wand. Glorious, powerful, and - ]

Oh my god, is that brain tissue?

[lancifolium]

[ Gooey. The wand that connected with her palm as she gripped was gooey, and as a wobbly grey chunk dripped off it and collided with the floor with a wet thud Lily made a startled, revolted sort of sound, holding the wand at arm's distance for Hermione to take. ]

Bloody undead. Please take this now, please.

[ Lily's face was screwed up in disdain and her voice was tight, but she was relieved that it had worked.

She just would really rather no longer have to hold onto the thing. ]

[reparo]

[She takes it from Lily with a dry heave sort of sound, and gives it a quick shake. Brain tissue draws an arc in the air, from the tip of her wand down onto the floor, splat.]

I'm just going to disassociate until we're out of here. [Muttered mostly to herself, and then with a steel in her spine, she tries the wand out. An Evanesco gets her clean - the wand included. It doesn't feel as slimy as it used to, when she'd just managed to keep it under control. Maybe the wand knows that its previous true owner is dead now, or maybe Hermione's just seen some shit these past few days and she just does not care anymore that she did not rightfully win the wand from Bellatrix Lestrange.

It's her wand now.

It's her wand that she aims at the hallway, her wand she draws the symbols in the air with, and her wand that magic shoots out of when she shouts:] Bombarda!

[One undead, unfortunate enough to have clocked in on them and started moving in their direction, is blown backwards and sort of outwards, gore painting the walls.]

Right. Right - [She looks at her fellow witch with a tentative smile.] Run.

birds of a feather

[leviable]

Oi. ( there’s movement in the corner and a thin hand appears out of the shadows, one finger pointing directly at the girl who’s been making all that noise. )

Are you trying to get us all killed? ( levi had been remaining still for hours now in an attempt to conserve his energy. he'd been bidding his time -- waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. now that the sedation's worn off and his disorientation's gone, he's ready to come up with a plan for an escape. because fuck this shit. )

Quit bringing attention to yourself. ( his voice comes out somewhat raspy and broken. unlike the girl, he hasn't spoken a word since he'd found himself in this stinking hell hole. )

[reparo]

[Ask her how much she likes being scolded in general. She stops shouting towards the guards, at least - and they, thankfully, ignore her for the most part anyway, safe for a word about how the food is chatty - but now her disgruntlement is directed towards the rude person.

Alright, let's not call him rude. He's been locked up here with her - benefit of the doubt. Maybe not rude.

She shrugs in answer, but speaks to him, rather than to the whole room.]

It's been a rough day.

[leviable]

( a rough few years more like it. the last thing he remembers is fighting the beast titan and unleashing his anger on the monster. they'd lost so many men during that battle. who knows how many even survived. so far, he's yet to see a single familiar face in this strange dark room they're all trapped in. )

It'll get worse. ( how can it get better? just look around them. what the hell are these creatures? they smell of rot. it's like he's back in the underground again -- the one place he never wanted to revisit. )

Where are you from?

[reparo]

[Her heart clenches tight at the thought, an actual pain her her chest, but Hermione pushes through, trying to answer just the question - trying to not latch onto the pessimism.

She's survived the war. She survived Bellatrix, Dolohov, and hell - even Umbridge. She can get out of this one.]

England. Yourself?

[leviable]

( eh? he leans forward, narrowing his eyes at the girl. he had been expecting her to say wall-sina, rose or heck, even maria, but... )

What the fuck is England? ( is that what she named her house? it's hard to understand women sometimes. take hange, for example. naming those fucking titans like they were her pets, crying when she lost them. what a mess. )

[reparo]

[That...is surprising, and she blinks.]

It's...a country? [Where the fuck - pardon her French - is he from, if England sounds like such a great unknown? Is it some other world, like Taravast? Is it here, but elsewhere?]

In the - um - world I am from, I guess? It's a place.

birds of a feather

[chosenfordarkness]

[ The only reason he hasn't jumped up and attempted escape or tried to overpower their oh-so-wonderful captors is for the sake of everyone else. After taking inventory, he silently decided that they're all just civilians who probably don't have much power between them without being properly armed and..not in a cage hanging over some hungry ghouls.

The tactic of 'sit and wait' has never been easy for Anakin, but times change, and biding his time seems more beneficial since he doesn't have a lot of information. He's reclined nearby, studying the chain that holds the cage suspended. ]

The problem with people like that is that if they have power over someone, little else matters. They stop seeing people as people and instead treat them little better than livestock.

[ Bitter, who's bitter? ]

[reparo]

[Hi Bitter, I'm Hermione.]

Gruesomely familiar. I'm not going to apologise for being angry about it. [It has been pointed out to her before - another day? another time today? it's hard to pinpoint the passage of time here, with the groaning from the ghouls and the sedatives, and the darkness of the room sometimes - that she is recklessly combative. Okay, the words were not as poetic - but 'fucking annoying' does not have the same ring to it.

She's a prisoner and her wand isn't on her person, and while nobody is pinning her to the floor to carve horrible words onto her skin, this isn't much better.]

Hermione. [Gentler, the introduction. Her name - she'll remember her name. Sedated or not, she will.]

[chosenfordarkness]

[ Hi Recklessly Combative, I'm Anakin. ]

Nobody said you couldn't be angry. I'm angry, but I'm saving it for later.

[ The situation is less than ideal, and the sedatives make his limbs feel like he's treading water. Too heavy to belong to his body.

He tips his head in greeting. ]

Anakin.

[reparo]

[There is the smallest hint of a smile at that.] Anakin. [She won't say it's nice to meet him, because given the circumstances...it likely isn't. But she does nod back, with that hint of a smile, because Dr and Dr Granger raised a polite young woman.]

I have reserves of anger and current anger. [There's the reason for the smile. The idea that someone in this cage can actually reserve anger for later is...strange. Then again, Hermione always reacts fast and reckless when angered, even when those reactions are well-planned elf liberation societies.]

Not sure what to do with it all.

[chosenfordarkness]

[ It's less so that he wants to reserve it for later and more that he worries that if he acts out it will result in repercussions for everyone. He can take whatever's thrown at him, he doesn't want to assume that of anyone else. ]

My Master always tried to teach me that meditation can help clear your emotions. Tried, anyway.

[ He shifts into a different position, pretzeling his legs. ]

Maybe I'm just better practiced for these kinds of situations. [ He absolutely is not. ]

[reparo]

I've heard that helps. [Three guesses whether or not she has tried it. There was a few moments, in the Forest of Dean, where it crossed her mind to suggest to both Harry and Ron to try meditation, and calm the heck down, but that would've gone down like a lead balloon.

Plus, it sounds very much like a practice Trelawney would encourage. Connect with your inner eye! - or something like that.]

But I don't think I would encourage you to open your mind right now, with these things below the cage. They project their thoughts - I've had to start reciting old school books to keep them out.