let's set d o w n some (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
groundrules) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
westwhere2022-04-07 09:32 pm
groundrules) wrote in westwhere2022-04-07 09:32 pm
Entry tags:
- arc iii,
- harry potter: hermione granger,
- legend of fei: xie yun,
- mo dao zu shi: xiao xingchen,
- oh! my emperor: beitang moran,
- owl house: eda clawthorne,
- sword of frost: yun yifeng,
- tian guan ci fu: xie lian,
- triangle strategy: jens macher,
- umbrella academy: diego,
- umbrella academy: five,
- warcraft: anduin wrynn,
- word of honor: zhou zishu
(no subject)
This log covers 7-25 April, drawing from previous discoveries. Feel free to tag in here or make your own posts/logs!
Sign-ups for NPC threads remain open until 23:59 GMT on 9 April.
SWEET HISSED NOTHINGS
CONTENT WARNING: MENTIONS OF SNAKES, SERPENT CREATURES
Prior to the Huntress’ arrival, the group’s healer Wen Qing is captured by a feral half human, half serpent creature. Characters might overhear visiting woodsmen who say a woman was heaved into the woods at night by a large serpent.
After journeying through the illusion-casting forests of Ke-Waihu, prospective rescuers discover that traces of struggle lead them to a 20m-deep, wide pit on brittle pale soil, close to the Fortune fetters ruins:
- ■ If you cross the Fetters, local prophetesses cryptically advise you to shed torches or clothes and to run to cold streams, if you encounter danger. A distressed Hyang-Tai pleads kindness for ‘ancients’ and ‘children.’
■ The surroundings of the pit are eerily silent.
■ Rescuers can spot a sleeping Wen Qing at the bottom of the pit, patches of her bared skin covered in a slick shine and showing the start of growing scales. She is surrounded by dozens of dormant snakes and nagas, tightly and peacefully coiled around her.
■ Wooden stakes have been thrust into the pit walls — serving as challenging, but workable steps.
■ Some snakes are poisonous — with many cures available in the forest or back in Ke-Waihu — but most bite viciously without venom. Some nagas emit phlegm that briefly impairs the vision or blinds.
■ Watch your step! The creatures are drawn to warmth, fire magic and sound. They stir and climb the pit to attack if they feel threatened.
■ Rusted weapons and broken shields litter the bottom of the pit, dropped in by previous… visitors.
OBJECTIVES
- ■ Remove Wen Qing from her dire straits.
■ Wen Qing is left with serpentine sensitivities, instincts and scales. To cure her, healers advise a seven-day brew treatment of widow’s lace — an opiate plant found in large forest bushes.
■ Grab a few flowers at a time and store them well — collectors exposed extensively to widow’s lace experience four-six hours of light euphoria, paranoia or bizarre visions — swindling foxes and philosophical parrots are apparently commonly imagined.
THE MAIDEN’S WATCH
The Huntress joins the group, deprived of her powers and absent her steed. She pointedly stares at the ground, but those who meet her gaze may revisit harrowing moments in their lives.
Following group conversations, her shelter is rotated between two locations: a shallow forest cave and the now deserted snake pit that previously hosted Wen Qing.
Take turns shielding her from the animals that seem drawn to besiege her. The Huntress spends her time in tears or penitence and speaks in a maddened tongue. Voice coarse and wet, she summons the composure to share her knowledge:
- ■ The Beastmaster and she both seek to witness the imminent eruption of the Ke-Sanwon volcano, expected within a month. The Beastmaster will become more human as that time draws.
■ Ravens excepted, local animals obey the Beastmaster and spy for him.
■ To avoid the pull of the Beastmaster and his Hunt, seek out:
THE SHRINE
Trek through Ke-Waihu’s haunted forests and find the village’s only shrine devoted to ravens, outside of the elusive House of Ravens.- ■ Wear pebbles or wood splinters from the shrine to disrupt the Beastmaster’s thrall on you. These items must be replaced after three days.
■ Fox spirits have raised dozens of illusionary copies of the shrine. The stone of the original altar is marked for ravens in a small wooden carving, while copy shrines worship foxes.
■ Young fox spirits imitate ravens or play distant bells to distract travellers from finding the raven shrine.
■ Sometimes, fox spirits swarm, offering to show the way if visitors perform a small dare or tell them a meaningful secret.
■ If asked, Ke-Waihu locals share the shrine was raised by a wanderer, who spent a month in the village many years ago. He was disgusted with the arrogance of Ke-Waicai’s zealots, who insist ravens are sacred and can only be worshipped in the House of Ravens.
THE BRIDGE
Ke-Waihu has briefly reopened its gates to the nearby village of Ke-Waiar — to which it is connected by a fragile and narrow bridge high above a misted abyss.- ■ Wind gusts shake the ropes of the rickety bridge, and several wooden steps are putrid, dangling or loose.
■ Ad you near the bridge’s end to Ke-Waiar, you may find a couple of fox spirits are purposefully rattling the ropes to unsaddle travellers. Plead or barter: you can offer anything from riddles to treats, a good performance, a poem, a favour, a shouted confession of true love…
■ The village gates open between sunrise and sunset. Characters who arrive early find many villagers sleep until late in the day. By sundown, some locals become frantic, alert, increasingly irritable.
■ Water can be freely taken from any of the wells within Ke-Waiar to satisfy the quest. Villagers offer it gladly — they too suffer from resurging drought and dark waters.
■ If you arrive at sunset or night, you can see villagers turning to werewolves in various stages of transformation, between humanoid and large wolf beast. They are lured out of Ke-Waiar, gates closing behind them, and released into the thick, vibrant woods — with you.
■ Take cover in the forest, to escape the pack of werewolves and wolves. Some might prove lenient if they catch you, while others feel compelled to draw blood.
■ To wait out the night: climb the forest’s sturdiest trees with help of the ropes purposefully bound from tall branches. Some trees even host rudimentary treehouses.
- ■ Wear pebbles or wood splinters from the shrine to disrupt the Beastmaster’s thrall on you. These items must be replaced after three days.
THE HUNT
The Beastmaster, his xenomorphic creatures and mutated animals arrive in Ke-Waihu to behold the ‘imminent’ volcanic eruption.
The Beastmaster’s creatures possess sharpened senses and hearing, intense speed and hard carcasses that provide additional but imperfect protection from blows and missiles. They often hunt in packs, but behave themselves in Ke-Waihu during daytime.
The Beastmaster excuses himself from the underground Hok-Shinn clan’s attempts at a welcome celebration, taking residence with his beasts in his village hut. He may be encountered walking the village beside five or six of his creatures, inspecting the markets and even advising new huntsmen — his manner slow, speech rough in a way that suggests oral injury beneath his facial bandages.
THE TRIBUTES
The Hok-Shinn and an envoy of Ke-Waiar each present 10 distinguished but eerily listless youths of their village to the Beastmaster.
- ■ These tributes are then held in groups of five across four abandoned homes, each closely watched by six-seven men of the Hok-Shinn.
■ Team up, rescue some tributes — and get out alive.
■ For easier infiltration, try the forest-facing back of the houses, or the generously large, defective chimneys. Beware slippery or broken roof tiles
■ Hok-Shinn guards possess great brute force… and gratefully accept liquor.
■ Some tributes might fight their rescuers and attempt to alert the guards. Some claim it is their privilege to join the Beastmaster, while others say they should be sacrificed to the volcano Ke-Sanwon for their families.
■ You can hide the rescued tributes in the witches’ huts or the Fetters — gather them coin so they can book seats on the next ship out of Ke-Waihu.
THE HUNTING SEASON
The Beastmaster’s creatures are mannered during the day, but join the Hunting season that kicks off after the full moon:
- ■ Participation is (OOCly) optional.
■ For five nights, come moonrise, some characters feel compelled to flee into the forests and run, hide or avoid detection — alternatively, they join the Beastmaster’s creatures as hunters, chasing this quarry and forest animals.
■ You can chase each other or ‘pack’ up against a common target or enemy.
■ Anyone can ‘hunt’ or ‘be hunted.' Roles can swap across the five nights.
■ Characters can develop overnight instincts akin to an animal of hunt or prey of your choice, and they will be helped by these animals for the night. Snakes and ravens do not participate.
■ Hunting can be vicious (seeking to injure, kill or consume prey) or symbolic (just violently giving chase).
■ Certain characters feel especially compelled to join the hunt and to protect the Beastmaster outside of it. These include characters who are given to war, hunting, violence, wrath, gluttony or feral/animal characteristics. It also applies to those who previously turned xenomorphic during the Beastmaster's trip in Taravast, or whom he marked.
■ To avoid the hunt, stay out of the forest, apply the Huntress’ cures or lock yourself firmly indoors.
A couple of fun locations for hunt participants:
- ■ A tree enclosure where characters can hide for up to an hour, invisible to their pursuers. They can still be heard or scented.
■ A small lake, silvered at night, in whose waters you can breathe freely.
■ A fox spirit shrine, where a group of four-five vulpine friends defend you alongside their territory.
■ Abandoned wells and the forest streams previously touched by dark waters. The Beastmaster’s creatures seem very curious about the liquid, but ultimately pull back, as if obeying instructions.
■ Areas with strong fire or utter dark deter the Beastmaster's creatures.
OLD MAN MOUNTAIN
Dormant volcano Ke-Sanwon shows signs of upcoming eruption: soil swells, increases in local temperature and small, low-grade earthquakes.
- ■ Characters with magical powers may find their strength sometimes fluctuates, suddenly swelling or briefly waning completely.
■ Dark waters fill out some of the ground cracks that follow earthquakes. The liquid is cold, settling as if it were iced. This dark water heals shallow wounds on any skin it touches, or gently revives vegetation over one-three days on any ground it is set on.
■ The strength of the dark water fades over a week’s time.
■ Digging through the ground cracks reveals thin rivulets of the dark water are present all around Ke-Sanwon.They are more numerous the closer you get to the volcano. Dark water also smears the mouths of hell.
THE JEWELLER
A few days after the earthquakes state (after 20 April, for network posts), characters wake to distant screams, as a group of 10 of Ke-Waihu's masked concerned citizens drag handsome young jeweller Dong-Yun out of Ke-Waihu.
- ■ The group is taking Dong-Yun through the predatory forests.
■ You can play out finding the captors’ convoy separately, or tag into the jeweller’s rescue here.
■ Bring the jeweller back to Ke-Waihu. Dong-Yun can share that his abductors intended to sacrifice him to the Ke-Sanwon volcano. One of the participants in the rescue: please share with the rest of the class!
”I’ve heard, but I’ve never — they used to, when my mother was young… she told, me even when she had me, all the mothers hid their young. She told me, they used to give them to Sanwon. The prettiest, the smartest, the most skilled. Give it all to Brother Sanwon, give it to… so it won’t take everything else. Give it our best, and it will leave us the rest. But this doesn’t happen anymore. The mountain doesn’t want it.”
/wall-murals-wooden-bridge-on-lake-and-morning-mist.jpg.jpg){kind=link}
Howl
No, the focus was on the beasts below. Ones that were trying to scale the tree that he and his companion had ended up in. Trees were no stranger to him. So, it wouldn't be the first time that he's found himself in a tree to get away from something or someone. He'd done it back in 48 Stronghold. When he was being pursued by his soulmate and her cousin.
The stench of blood is strong and the gash looking bad, even if it was knitting itself back up. However, he keeps his focus on the beasts. On the fact that they needed to wait out what was below. ]
You rest first.
[ Xie Yun was perfectly fine taking the first watch and letting the other rest, sleep. Especially when this wouldn't be the first time that he's rested up in a tree, away from the enemy. Nor would it be the last, he's sure. ]
no subject
[ Slipped, hissed and meager. He knows the way of it: a man with the unravelled viscera of a tender wound is a nuisance, a liability. The young man — likeness carved against Lan Wangji's own to such eerie proximity, he had first thought him an apparition of the forests — has calculated the risks of Wangji's watch outrank its petty merits.
At war in Nightless City, he walked corpses with the cadence of a dancer, possessed wraith-like to skip and saunter and stall by flesh deserted of its living strength. So many fallen, tallied, swept. The wounded triaged: they of likely recovery, they consigned dead to the sword, the charred, the forlorn, the emptied. There was arrogant pride and youthful exhilaration in never numbering among those whom medics chose for long rest, for respite and relaxation — for mercy, ripped from senseless death.
Kindness slaps him like a mother, the teeth of her nails long. Jaw tight, he bears against it, summoning himself to the full stretch of his body, as if occupying space creates illusory grandeur. ]
Merely a skin wound. [ That drips and knots, flesh shrivelled. A lie, but for conviction that a man's hurts are only the ones he grieves. ] But you have travelled long.
no subject
[ This man with his likeness was injured. Yes, he was healing and the skin mending itself. Folding and turning as if he, himself, were making a fine tuned blade for a sword, but that meant nothing at the moment. Both were stuck in the tree high above their pursuers.
One of them would have to give. Would need to rest. The young Emperor cares not that it's merely a skin wound. Cares not that he, himself, has traveled long. None of that matters. None of it will matter.
If he thought it possible, doable, he would use his internal energy and shove the wolves further down. Unfortunately, that would do more harm than good. Neither of them needed to be harmed more. ]
I've traveled longer still. Rest.
no subject
He is possessed of Wangji's likeness, but perhaps not of his quick appetite for murder. That is singular, sculpted and cared for by the Gusu Lan. Admired. ]
The wound lends me to restlessness.
[ A truth Cloud Recesses would not condemn him for speaking with impunity — but manipulated to suit purpose. Noble Hanguang-Jun is no stranger to barter, to the easy, careful, cautious concessions that Wei Ying and his ilk imagine Lan Wangji too stalwart to weaponise against the sects.
The tea leaf powders of Zewu-Jun's charismatic shrewdness elude him — and what would Wangji not give, passing his tongue over dried lips, for a cup of slender, refined brew? ]
I shall not sleep, irrespectively. [ No point, then, in troubling two where the sacrifice of one might tide them. ] You may.
[ ...if he can, the frequent tremors of the trees and the scratched grind of nails on its husk a shallow reminder of the creatures that beg their attention. ]
no subject
If it wouldn't attract the beasts then he'd play them a tune, seeing as he has no intention of resting. He's gone days without it, waiting out Disha, or whomever he needed to. ]
I have no intention of sleeping.
[ Not when he's wide awake. The scratched nails along the tree bother him very little. Disha has made more noise than these beasts. Their wolf, her wolf, made more noise than this.
Instead, he leans back against the bark, almost lazy in the way he leans, but those eyes speak volumes. How they take everything in, not quite taking in exists, but if there was something that could be used to their advantage. ]
no subject
Leaves swoon and sway and settle in harsh scratches. Below, one of the wolves throws the weight of its chest against the tree's heft, seeking to unsettle it. No answer, but the beast attempts again, until its mate or sibling crawls closer, and there's a silent sweetness to animal solidarity, how it licks the rain of spattered blood that crowns the first wolf's fur. ]
They cannot rise. [ This, perhaps in reassurance. They are safe here, if not unswaddled babes, but cherished and defended in a nest of branches, of lichen. He decides, all at once, to lead by example, rushing a hand to stay blood where it swells his sleeve and staggering towards the treehouse, after. ] And we cannot descend. We make arrows, or see who tires first of wait.
no subject
It's probably a good thing that Xie Yun and his companion, both, have pretty good balance and won't be easily knocked over or swayed out of their sanctuary. ]
Which is good for us.
[ This? It was as safe as they were going to get. Not that he, himself, considered it overly safe. ]
We make arrows then.
[ That? It would give him something to do other than resting or sleeping. Besides, making arrows was far easier than making swords. ]
no subject
The trouble lies less in want of materials or hands, but in that of sharpened things, and it's slow when Lan Wangji peels away the thin-silvered moon beam of Bichen's length, when he shows her presence to his companion — if not demonstrative, then eerie, blinking like the lazy eye of a sullen cat, strange. ]
One sword between us. [ But, testing the truth of it, as if he expects the trickled revelation of a hard-sharpened blade. ] Correct?
[ Discourteous to ask a stranger to present his arms, but if they are to be companions in this, sworn brothers of a night's tribulations, while it hisses and howls and tickles cold their napes, then they cannot spare lie, subterfuge or treason. ]
no subject
He does, however, take note of Bichen and can't stop the smile. It was a beautiful sword. Beauty was, after all, something that he took note in, especially in blades. Bichen was beautiful, sharp, and decisively deadly. ]
One sword between us.
[ That does not mean that the young emperor doesn't pull the metal hairstick from his hair to use as needed. ]
I carry no blades. The only one I know who does isn't here. My hairstick will do, as it has in the past.
[ If they needed to truly fight, then he had his martial arts. He didn't need a blade in order to fight. ]
no subject
And then, there is the... complication, a line of steel or reflective make, and Lan Wangji does not gasp, precisely, nor gape, nor imitate the finer mannerisms of the common fish when the young man presents his... weapon. He considers it, though. There are merits to being a pedestrian salmon.
One of them is not beholding a hair stick before the task of sharpening arrows, and mulling whether the young man intends Wangji ridicule, or if perhaps his tactical or logistical genius extends well past Lan Wangji's ken.
( He recalls, distantly, to try his wound for fresh bleeding, palm wrecked with drying flakes of red thereafter. Better. )
First things first: cautiously, against a symphony of resumed howls, of deep scratches: ]
You gave no name.
no subject
There are many things that the young emperor is good at, not everything need laid bare in one go. That does not, however, mean he won't lay bare what is needed when needed.
The other is not wrong. He did not give this man with his likeness a name. He does, however, give a slight bow, smile gracing his lips. ]
Nor did you. I am Xie Yun.
[ Even now he can show a little decorum, even if it was not completely warranted while out trying to survive. ]
no subject
Until, spine relieved, he abandons the greeting to recover standing poise. ]
Wangji, clan Lan.
[ Let their encounter take place in as fortunate of an hour as a pack of maddened, blood-thirsting wolf-hounds that trek at the feet of their trees allows. Perhaps some horoscope readers might agree some constellations did not align auspiciously on this night. No matter. ]
Let us gather long branches.
[ And he searches the surroundings first, ripping with bare hands what the tree offers within line of sight, keeping the splintered wood long to preserve the better part of its use, when the arrow is thrown. Absent a true bow, the strength of their arms and the resilience of the arrow-spears is all that will advantage them. ]
no subject
A pleasure, Lan Wangji.
[ Perhaps it would have been more of one if they did not have wolves below. Beasts trying to climb and get to them. Something he is grateful they could not do. Though, he has no fear of them. Only one thing struck fear into him and that was neither here nor there, not anymore.
The branches work, an advantage, and he lets his eyes roam the trees close to them, almost calculating and determining something. Though, for now, when they gather branches, he will whittle arrows.
If they have chance to make a bow, something durable enough, they should. ]
no subject
Beasts now, men mere heartbeats before. This, he remembers, slow to collect the next configuration of branches, to sit in tight in palm. He seeks out Xie Yun's gaze, dark as the night that watches them. ]
If we kill them, we bleed men.
[ Murder does not befit the cultivator, not without sense or cause. And what say do these man have of their conditions? No. ]
Perhaps... better we make arrow with rope to the treeline. [ And construct a walk line thereafter. ]
no subject
His gaze goes from his companion to where the wolves were, those gazes intense. There's a soft hum out of him. If he were not a young emperor who cared not for bloodshed, despite being to war, then he would not hesitate. Unfortunately, he prefers to help and not hinder. ]
I've seen it done before, only with wire.
[ Then he looks over toward the other again. ]
Do we have enough rope or do we make more?
[ If they made more then they would need to be careful and make sure it was braided as well as secured properly. ]
no subject
He thinks, there would be nails there, clay beating long plaques of wood into recognisable, sturdy geometries. On ground, men might would contort dirt into additives, to raise their construct.
Here, they cannot afford rigidity. Not when so many branches could fall to a storm, and the house might require, then, displacement. So, its position here and now must be — bartered. Transient.
...removable. ]
The house's floors and roofs stay solid.
[ He seeps from one branch to the next, feet negotiating easy purchase, hand soft when it searches the ridges of the house's wood and leaves ugly prints of blood, inked by moonlight. His palm slides and lifts and touches until, all at once, he tugs — ]
Construct a spear's end. [ While Wangji does battle with extracting the house's rope, between its tired, rusting creaks. ]
no subject
At least, of course, until he speaks. ]
That's doable.
[ One needed a roof over their head and floors under their feet. Even if he, himself, could sit in trees for hours on end.
The blood is obvious but not mentioned even as he takes what is handed to him, focusing on the construct of the spear while the other extracts rope. It would hopefully be enough. He has, after all, done wire walk before. This should go well enough if they were careful. ]
no subject
Lan Wangji brings back a long stretch of rope, serviceable, and makes no mention of the clunky thuds of hard wood behind him — parts of the tree house, unravelled and prey to gravity, blessing the wolves with a fusillade of unexpected domestic projectiles. Trinkets of metal, glistened below like diamond dust in their fall. Splingers. For all Lan Wangji had planned no diversion, he does not begrudge the one at hand.
He returns to Xie Yun, no better than a beggar of meagre offerings. No matter — when the spear's end is crafted, they may yet bind the rope around the tip, and then walk the line, or swing themselves on it — as madmen might, or children, or hapless travellers pursued by wolves. ]
Claim the throw. Your grip is more certain. [ Absent Lan Wangji's injury, Xie Yun's aim is the better bet now. ]
no subject
Binding a spearhead took a bit of craftsmanship. One needed to make sure that it was bound and tightly, but not overly so. No need to harm the edges. To make it unusable.
His hairstick gets wiped off and then shoved back into his hair before he stands and eyes their target. Xie Yun knows what Lan Wangji is getting at. A throw would be off balanced if one were to try injured.
Target picked, he pays only attention to it and not the companion beside him before throwing it, pulling the rope tight after it's made sure its target claimed. ]
After you.
no subject
It does not. Xie Yun runs the cord taut. And Lan Wangji, painfully divided between the instinct to summon Bichen and redirect his qi from healing unto flight, and that to attempt the impossible of walking the rope — he decides.
A slow first step, teasing. His footwork is immaculate for sword dance, but flimsy for this, too artistic. His arms come unbalanced. He had thought his posture rigid, but finds he has been — unkempt in how he carries himself, until he starts to correct himself, one foot, then the other, and his arms parallel, then, once he avails himself of the initial trepidation, flattened at his side.
He walks slowly, to his discredit. ]
Apologies. I stall you.
no subject
One lone rope where he watches, waits, and makes sure that Lan Wangji is not bound to fall. The last thing needed is his companion falling and into the jaws of the men turned beasts below. ]
Not everyone is cut out to walk the wire, you're doing better than most.
no subject
He walks on, without the haste that would behoove a child chastised. To stumble now would be to stagger them further, and for all the animals curl and coil and jump to reach them, what will drip him to a fall is his own lack of foresight. His scattered precautions, his ruined ambition.
In the end, destination reached, he hardly turns his head to wave the man Xie Yun with his hand, tap of his fingers tired. Come, then. ]
Assistance is yours, as asked. [ If asked. For now, he only steadies the string, both hands folded to keep it taut on his end of the edge. ]