(no subject)

[groundrules]

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.

THE LION’S DEN

---

WEN QING’S RESCUE | THE HUNTRESS’ CURES | THE HUNT | THE OLD MOUNTAIN

Image source.

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.

Image source.

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.

Image source.

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.

Image source.

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.”

Image source.

QUESTIONS

Comments

wen qing | open

[silverneedles]

Wildcard options:

1. Sweet Hissed Nothings: Following her rescue, Wen Qing develops scales on various parts of her body that she needs to shed and snake-like attributes that she needs to cure quickly, so she will be out hunting for widow's lace, and peeling the scales off her body, if she can reach them.

2. The Shrine: The foxes are cute and playful and temperamental, which is a problem for Wen Qing. Not easily swayed by her the cuteness of her brother or nephew (or other, adopted family), she relents a little when she sees the foxes playing, offering to lead her places, usually to terrible ends.

3. The Bridge: Crossing the bridge seems even more daunting than walking to her death had been. She focuses on anything possible beyond the bridge and the empty space beneath it, occasionally stopping to clutch the rope and wait for the wind to settle down. When she reaches the other side, she'll drop to her knees and let the fear subside before moving on.

4. The Hunt: Wen Qing is staying locked inside a house, with the Huntress' cures on, as well. Seek her out to keep her company.

Let me know what you prefer and I will write a custom starter. Or leave a starter with one of these, or something else entirely.

2

[eternallywandering]

Lady Wen! [He owes her a debt, but even if he didn't, Zishu would race to her side before she decides to follow the playful - often charming - foxes. Taking hold of her arm - unless he is thwarted somehow - he smiles.] You shouldn't trust them. They might look small and cute, but they are fond of mischief.

[A frown follows and he releases his hold on her, giving her a proper bow.]

Will you come with me?

[silverneedles]

[ A voice she knows, a face she's well acquainted with: Wen Qing turns to him, slight confusion in her eyes as she does so. ] Lord Zhou.

[ There's no protest when he takes her arm, and it seems to shake her, enough that she focuses her attention on him, rather than the foxes. She doesn't look over her shoulder even as one of them whines. ]

Are you well? [ she asks, returning the bow. ]

[eternallywandering]

[That whine is criminal and Zishu shoots the foxes a glare harsh enough to wither warriors. But the glare softens almost immediately when he looks back at Wen Qing.]

I found myself on the wrong side of them recently. I don't want to see you harmed.

[Her focus is admirable and he steps back, motioning for them to leave this area.]

Thankfully my body is stronger these days. [He isn't at his full power - he might never be - but he isn't dying.]

[silverneedles]

[ She is very tempted to look back as they leave, but once he mentions ending up on the wrong side of the foxes, she resists, just barely.

At least Zishu is easier to focus on than the foxes, as she looks him over. ] You do look better.

3

[balancedwire]

[ Unlike Wen Qing, the bridge doesn't seem as daunting to him. Perhaps it is due to the fact that he balances and walks on wires. Something he has done back home. His qinggong comes in handy here as well, so he's watching her as she crosses the bridge.

He even, just to appear normal, possibly, takes hold of the rope. No need to fall to his death. That? He's not ready for. Not when he has nearly died once before due to a poison that ran through his veins.

When he does reach the other side, he kneels beside her and gives her a soft smile. ]

Are you alright?

[silverneedles]

I'm fine. [ Her voice sounds almost waspish when she responds and she draws in a breath, releasing it slowly before opening her eyes to look at the man kneeling next to her, intending to apologize, only to do a double-take. ] Hanguang-jun?

[ But no: she looks him over, his hair cut differently, his face not as severe, smiling at her, and she shakes her head. ] No, you can't be him.

[balancedwire]

[ Was she fine? Truly fine? Though, the words she tosses out at him are different. A title. One that must have belonged to Lan Wangji. That smile, however, does not waver.

His hair is probably not as long as Lan Wangji's, but even so it's pulled up into a ponytail. Much like Wuxian would normally wear his hair. Though, no, despite seeing war from a young age, he is not as severe as most. ]

If you are referring to Lan Wangji, then no. I'm not him. My name is Xie Yun.

[silverneedles]

[ Is she fine? Not really, and it shows in the way she curls her arms around her body, clutching her arms. Her eyes are focused but the rest of her face is pale and when she shifts, the glitter of scales can be seen on her neck, leftover from her time with the naga. ]

You look like him. [ Which, clearly he is aware of by now if he mentioned Hanguang-jun by name. She shakes her head, looking away, discomforted by her own emotional reaction to the bridge, and the fact that someone saw. ]

[balancedwire]

[ He notes the scales that gliter along her skin, but says nothing of it. She didn't need him to say what was obvious and what was not. As for the mention of looking like him, he knew that. They had similarities about one another, but were different, as well.

As for knowing his name, one need to know another's name when stuck up in a tree having werewolves vying for their blood. ]

I seem to be getting that a lot.

[ He also, unlike the man he's similar to, does not carry a sword. No weapon adorns him, save for his own fists and internal energy. ]

Where were you heading?

[ He'd go with her and make sure she got to her destination safely. ]

4. / wildcard - within days of the Hunt!!!

[downswing]

[ After, when he's shed the sour sweat and shallow wounding and foreign appetites of the hunter like a brittle snake's skin, when ground's filth and stale, powdered stone gathered on his limbs like an unguent, when he walks limping and adrift like the last gasps of a tempest — he infiltrates, more than enters Wen Qing's home in courtesy, half a glance scathing the... lovers who court enthusiastically in the dark-shrouded gardens, as he passes.

...they have shared little fortune in their homes of this village. Foolish, to think Wen Qing's dignity might have known succour. ( Praise to his ears, they stay snowy and devoid of flush, when the girl surprised in her passions rushes to lift herself from the garden bench, and the cloth of her cloth of her robes slips to receive the mound of a shoulder. )

He wears still Wei Ying's darks when he visits, coarse cottons tortured under every branch and pebble and ravine the woods could whip him with, while extending brief hospitality. The flutter of his pulse is a convulsive betrayal of a body vulnerable to the turn of seasons, the chill of the evening, the toll of the litany of cuts and bruises that line and braid rope around his wrists, his back. The lock of his qi has prevented murder when the hunting fevers took him — and recovery, when the days drew warm and sensible and long.

But the spell has broken. Late now, the hour deepened and leaves quivering in low hang like fingertips drumming, when light rain knocks them down. In the clench of his fist, a torn bundle of the widow's lace sleeps dry. Late in this, also — he anticipates the mistress Qing has by now long completed her treatment, or succumbed in its absence. No matter.

Floors creak to announce him, drip and drip and drip of his fresh wet sobbing down lacquer. He knocks, once, on the mouth's frame of the door to the mistress' quarters, long before she can show the white glint of her teeth. ]

Apologies for a visit delayed. [ A slow look at him might indicate he has been... otherwise engaged. ] How fares your wounding?

[ At the end of the day, what is one monstrous perversion to another? If she bears scales and injuries, and he an animal haunting, then at least they are together less than houses of their true selves. ]

[silverneedles]

[ The lovers share in their passions all hours of the day and night and are not silent about it. Easy enough to chase away, though: she does not hear Lan Wangji talking to the current set of lovers engaged in a tryst but they disappear, taking their declarations of love and ardor with them.

Lan Wangji is a surprise, despite that. The hour is late enough that when she sees him, lurking in the shadows of the door to her quarters, she's tempted to ask him if it is time for bed, or better yet, an aid to stay awake. But he brings with him widow's lace and Wen Qing is no fool. She takes the plant with all the grace of a desperate man begging for a cure from a quack. She's had some earlier but what harm could more do? Or perhaps a brew for another day— there aren't many left.

She leaves the door open for him, sweeping further into her quarters to the pot she has set specifically for this. ]

I'm fine. [ Pay no mind to the glittering scales on her neck and hands, mostly hidden behind robes but occasionally glimpsed through movement or the drape of robes. If her room is warmer than it might be, remember: Wen Qing grew up in a castle on fire. ]

[downswing]

We are not. [ Strategic admission, like dew on morning-kissed leaves: a surrendered, aesthetic inevitability. He thinks, if they were friends or fools or better, trust could stretch as an old, grey cat seeking sun between them.

Instead, he seeps down on both knees, uninvited. Brokers his hands cupped, his shoulders downed, the span of his back — broken by lashings — as a perfect, fluid convexity. A finer house might offer him tea. Here, he settles for the absence of expulsion. ]

Apologies. [ For the reminder, the contradiction. The artless bluntness, like the tip of an ancestral blade fallen into disuse. ] If I may witness the infection — [ Sooner than intuit it. ] We may seek it silenced.

[ Scales are not the first weapons in a maiden's cosmetic arsenal. ]

[silverneedles]

Unnecessary. [ A truce between them, and he is family, by way of Wei Wuxian, by way of Sizhui, and thus, no apologies between them. Neither of them are fine, even if she is reluctant to admit it, seeking refuge in terse words and brooding. A healer, a cultivator, and her body betrays her, more insidious than the world betraying her. At least then there was her brother by her side and a reason she could understand. ]

A few more days and it will be gone. [ Supposedly. Hopefully. The healers sprout words but results the test of their medicine.

She switches the widow's lace (carefully tucked into a cabinet for the next day) for a proper tea, or what they can make of it here, an herbal brew to promote warmth, carrying the pot to the table. A cup, pushed his way. A peace offering before: ] There are scales on my back. I cannot reach.

[ A request, unvoiced. ]

[downswing]

[ Later, he will know, he took the cup. This was the hurt of it, the start of the sentence.

She offered. He accepted. And, in all things of trade, men pay. ]

You wish them burned.

[ Or ripped from surface, or torn at root. He knows, instinctively, they speak of demolition and not lubrication — of making the stretch of her back arable and known, not of waiting out the autumnal slip of the thin, glistened plate from her skins.

There is cruelty in this, how she asks — him. Sparing Sizhui and Wei Ying, and perhaps Jiang Cheng, the men of her life to whom she allocates alms of devotion. Lan Wangji's hurt is an abstract notion, distant in the orbit of her awareness. There can be no collision between his discomfort and her guilt, only empty, parallel, gelid coexistence.

Cause without effect. He sips his tea, eyes downed, and his knuckles try the faint qualities of tremble. ]

Bare your back.

[ Let them do this, then, like whores and patrons, like strangers. ]

4.

[traaaaaash]

[ Eda's just around, exploring her new surroundings, having the infinite advantage of a flying staff as a mode of transportation.

Alas, she only spots Wen Qing when she is just reaching the end of the bridge. Eda flies by and stops. ]

You know, I could've given you a ride.

[silverneedles]

What?

[ Wen Qing jerks her eyes up, frowning at the new woman, a voice she doesn't entirely recognize, and then looks at her staff. ] You can still fly?

[ Wen Qing hasn't tried, largely because she doesn't have her sword, or thought to among the cultivators she knows here. It's almost disappointing— anything would have been better. ]

[traaaaaash]

[ Eda, meanwhile, has come to a halt and dismounted, the wings at the top of the staff retreating back into the little wooden statue of an owl that is attached there. ]

I mean, I just did, so I'm assuming I can.

[ Is that some sarcasm? Oh yeah, that is some sarcasm. ]

[silverneedles]

[ The very obvious sarcasm gets her a sharp look, tempered by the fact that Wen Qing still looks pale, slightly green around the edges. ]

Next time, offer.

[ Flying is vastly different than trying to walk across an unstable bridge. She'd take flying on that staff any day. ]

[traaaaaash]

Well, I didn't see you before. But sure.

[ She's in a mood to sass, but decide to soften her answer a bit; the young woman does look pretty beat up. ]

Should I, uh. Should I stick around while you take a minute?

[ A little awkward to offer a complete stranger, perhaps. But these woods are dangerous, that much Eda can tell. Better to not leave someone in a bad state all alone. ]

4ish

[reparo]

[It's been a while since the rescue mission, the naga attack, and the guarding job at the noble's house, and Hermione - who returned the third night to keep watch on her own, to finish the job so they could at least have the coin for their troubles - has made her way to where lady Wen Qing is resting now, with the intention of dividing the final pay.

Because fair is fair.

She also brought the book on herbs with her, since Wen Qing did mention wanting to copy it.]

Hello? It's Hermione - would it be okay for me to come in?

[silverneedles]

[ The last of the scales from Wen Qing's adventure are starting to fade, much to her relief, but Wen Qing has spent most of her time in relative solitude recently when she could. But it's made her lonely for human companionship, especially with the curse affecting her.

When she realizes it's Hermione who has come to see her, she brightens slightly, ushering the other woman into her room. ] Of course, Lady Hermione. It's good to see you again.

[reparo]

[She steps inside with a mirroring smile, because truth be told she has been missing female companionship. And mentoring. Not to say that Wen Qing has volunteered any such thing, but maybe with the book they can reach some sort of cooperation here as well? She would love to know how Wen Qing makes medicines, since in Taravast there was not a chance to witness it.]

And you - you're looking better. Are you feeling better? [She's going to ramble.] I've collected payment for our service from that man, I thought we should split it evenly.

[silverneedles]

[ She ushers Hermione in and toward the small table she has in the corner of the room, gathering supplies for tea before settling across from Hermione, letting the tea steep before pouring. ]

I was not there the final night. [ She was trapped in a pit with a bunch of snakes. Which had not been her intent when she'd chased after the creature. ] I could not take an even half. [ Even if she needs it. ]

[reparo]

[It's a good thing Hermione gets to sit down before they launch into this argument, because they're about to have divergent opinions about what is fair.]

Oh, you absolutely have to. [She will not hear any arguments against it.] I wasn't exactly much help for you with the snakes, aside from calling for help - I thought getting us fully paid was the least I could do for everything you went through.