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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.”
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lorna dane | open/closed
1.
He is returned to himself, battered and bruised and no better for the absence of his imprisoned energy — but he stands serviceable, when he scouts the forest, white of the moon casting gossamer light on his blood-spattered cheek, on the quicksilver tremble of his wrist bones. He has spent too long in hunt, too little in strained recovery.
And the chase stirs once more, stokes anticipation in his blood, dread and disaster. The forests scream their deception, alert at one step, eerily silent at the next. Shrubs shiver when he hastens by, then waits for the yawn of two broad-backed, disfigured leonine creatures that pass at idle step — eyes beady and pupil dark under moon's drop, on each of their three heads.
Where scent betrays, he can afford no shelter. Cowardly, he starts a hard run that wrecks pressure his bones never learned to expect from physical exertion, and he is negligent, he will know later, barely better than a nebulous thunder of black silks, roiling — when he crashes into Lorna, breaking their fall at the last heartbeat. Rush of gallop behind him, earth shivered for the force or weight of the animals that draw close.
On any other day, his grip on the girl's wrist would wound her skin and her modesty. On this night, he drags her, unthinking —
"Run," hissed between his teeth, like biting silver, "Water breaks scent."
...now, for the small matter of locating a river late.
no subject
"What the hell," she snaps as she gets pulled to her feet, but there doesn't seem to be any time to question him. Whatever he's running from is clearly something he's already run into and either has no ability to combat or, from the looks of him, he's already tried and just barely got out of it.
So she runs with him, tearing her arm loose and keeping up with the pace. Water, he said they needed water to get the scent whatever's chasing them is tracking. She nods, looking around as they keep moving.
"Are we close to any?"
no subject
In the bird cage of his chest, his heart's beat dwindles to staccato, jumps to flow and stream. The moon paints them as oddities of colour, flashes of silhouette — violence of movement. The girl does not allow their hands bound. It delays Lan Wangji, gaze trickled too often between them to ensure she yet follows, as if the hard pace of both their feverish breaths and the gallop of their torn feet would not betray that she is yet here, she keeps step.
"Birds," he offers by way of answer, and it is there, the sharp, strident trill of midnight birds, lured to water. Farther out, the silvered gleam of flattened surface, and it must be so, he smells the stench of damp and wet rot, hears wave breaking. And stills, holding a hand out as they reach a wall of shrubbed defences that bars the path to the lake, before they hasten to the shoreline. "Creatures may drink."
He need not say, other pursuers.
no subject
"Should we get all the way in?" She isn't really in the mood to get soaked, but she's willing to listen if it means they stay safe and don't get chased for the rest of the night.
no subject
He cannot guarantee their safety. Hesitates, and peers briskly through the scant vantage offered where the rich foliage of shrubs goes threadbare — blinks, tips his head. Hears. Listens.
And decides, all at once, to hunt the residue of stones on the forest floor, to choose the thickest, the weightiest piece, and cast it out. Silence, at first, shivered. Then, he throws another stone in the distance. No howls, no shift, no plunge. No creature playing fetch. He thinks, We are in safe territory.
...then catapults another stone, hard, and realises, "We do not hear it land in water."
Spell work. Illusion. Something amiss.
no subject
He picks up a stone and sends it into the water, then another. Then a third, and at that point she's wondering why; both why he's doing it and why something feels off, and then he points it out.
She picks up a stone of her own and throws it in, as hard as he just has, and hears nothing either. She looks back at him, shaking her head.
"So what do we do? Move on?"
no subject
Inertia is a sullen master. To wait is to fail, to risk, to achieve nothing. To move is simply to wager an ideal gain against a probable, cresting cost. He cannot choose for two, yet he has done so. The war still beats a drum his temples remember as a migraine, come misty, autumn mornings.
He watches her, owlish, for a moment, taking the tally of her visible injuries, her frame, her weaknesses. There is little one can estimate in the dark. "Wounded?"
Before, she kept the pace in ways that did not suggest the distraction of hurts, any impairment of her body. But deformities of bone do not reveal themselves swiftly. She could hide a cleaving of muscle, an erosion of cartilage. Slow, but deepening bruising.
"Decide. I run first, you see what gives chase." If anything. Perhaps there is nothing, waiting. And yet. "But you come after unguarded. Or the reverse."
Each proposition with its own demerits. Were they a larger contingent, strategy would come into play. This is a mere game, no less, no better.
no subject
"No." Her voice rasps, but it's as steady as the rest of her. "I'm fine. And I can provide backup."
She's got enough metal on her to make for a good weapon if something does end up giving chase, so she can strike it down. Or at least slow it down.
no subject
He who runs first is more exposed. There is a limited wealth of assistance he can provide from a distance. Better to risk his skin and provide her with precaution of where dangers lurk than to allow her to meet them face on.
So be it. One nod, more sketch and the slant of his eyes mean — and then he dashes forward, step thundered, a life of training and magical enforcement colliding to create his speed here, now. His progress here, now.
To his gladness, no creature pursues him. He hears no heaviness of step, no growls, no hard breath, feels no claws entrap him. The waters greet him, and he smells the wet of them, the damp — then the blood, old and rusting, and the foul deterioration of animal flesh, and he sees now the reason why his stones never broke the lake's waters. Sees the pebbles balanced clumsily where they've landed on a spread of woodland creatures, murdered fresh or dragged.
This, then, was the carnage or feeding site of the Beastmaster's animals, hours before. Unequivocally. A disgusting display, but — he calls back, over his shoulder, "Emptied path. Come."
no subject
The bands on his limbs make him slower to answer than he should be, but he knows who will be standing there before he reaches the door. It's nothing he can explain, except that maybe she has a magnetic pull over him. More than once he's wanted to say screw it to the house arrangements just to keep her near, and that resolve returns the moment he sees her standing there.
"Lorna." His voice is tellingly raspy when he looks over her with concern brimming in his eyes, and he steps aside for her to duck in. There's no reason to think she might have been followed by anyone dangerous, but it immediately reminds him of too many times back home and he's eager to get her inside and lock the door behind her. "Are you okay?"
no subject
"Marcos." What's left of her voice is flooded with relief and she steps in without hesitation once he steps aside, reaching for his hand and using it to pull him to her, wrapping her arms around him once he's close enough. Which is answer enough to his question, but she eventually answers anyway.
"I'm all right." Safe, anyway, which feels like a lot some days. "I just needed to see you."
no subject
"I'm here." He wants to do something to help the village, but it's less of a driving force than it used to be. What happened in the fields just made it all seem like more than they can handle. That's the more logical reason that he'd like to go with, and he's ready to abandon it if Lorna has other ideas.
He looks over her face, tilting with the light that's still too dim, but nods after another moment.
"Make yourself comfortable. They're asleep," he says with a nod to their living area, just so she knows that they won't be interrupted. At least, he thinks that might be why she was speaking so quietly. His housemates haven't made any comments about who he brings over, but that doesn't mean they need to hear everything. "What's going on out there?"
no subject
Maybe they'd both be right.
Lorna holds onto him, soaking in the comfort for as long as possible until they break and he looks over her face, and she's briefly glad for the darkness in the room. He'll see the state of her face eventually, but she manages to disguise it until they move into his house's living area, and she glances around before taking a seat.
"Just trying to keep whatever might be coming for the village back," she manages, her voice still croaking. It doesn't hurt to talk, but it's difficult for her voice to make a sound. "What about you, how's it been over here?"
no subject
Right. What has been going on here? He looks around the room briefly, and shakes his head.
"Well, I haven't been abducted by any more trees. We're still trying to figure out what that was about." It's been a while, so he can play it off as a less horrifying experience now. An evil tree tried to swallow him, it really doesn't get any more weird than that.
He might have gone on about theories, but he's too focused on her to tell a story. There's obviously more that he missed. "...Did something else happen? You sound pretty rough."
no subject
"I'm okay." It's not all that convincing, considering how hoarse her voice is, but it's nothing she can't handle. She's had worse injuries and trouble with sleeping before. "What have you learned about those? Anything?"
She knows him too well than to think he'll be convinced, but she can try. And she'd rather hear him share what he's learned.
no subject
"Not really," he sighs, sinking further in his seat. "I thought the dark water was coming from the tree, but I haven't found another source. I offered to look with someone."
He doesn't sound very enthusiastic about that offer. The last time is still giving him nightmares, and that's coming from someone who should have a better tolerance by now. Just the idea that it was absorbing souls and he'd barely gotten away is... something Lorna doesn't need to hear the details of.
"I almost think they'd be better off with the undead. Nobody should have to live here." He doesn't think anyone would listen if they tried to convince them though. People actually seem to think they're being punished for a reason. It's depressing to think about, so he turns his focus back to what Lorna's avoiding.
"You haven't said much about the volcano."