out you go, shoo

[groundrules]

READY TO ROLL OUT

That awkward moment when even a brothel won’t have you.

Characters will end their sojourn at the House of Dew early morning, helmed by Haltham (and his murderous goat, chomping on his prosthetic wooden hand for splinter nutrients). Courtesans and attendants will send the group away with parting gifts: a few sacs of grains, handfuls of spice, a small barrel of brew, several of water, thin blankets and four fat chickens.

The decrepit farm stands an hour’s walk east of Sa-Hareth, bordering the forest at the foot of the mountain. ...and it has not wanted for company. Monstrously overgrown wolves prowl the region, with some of the pack settled inside the farm. The wolves are halfway between dead and living, instantly aggressive, sharper, faster, smarter and blue-eyed beyond natural expectation. The wolves are drawn to heat and fire-bearers. They can be slain, or pushed back into the forest. If the brawl drags on, the wolves may receive reinforcements. Distantly, characters can observe silhouettes of pale-eyed, humanoid creatures in the forest, covered in animal skins. They seem to speak to the wolves, though it is unclear if they soothe or set them to attack.

Once an elaborate woodsmen’s station, the 'farm' is a generous, sprawling outpost built, home to now-barren inner garden. The farm spreads across kitchens, bathing rooms, hefty storage barns, a handful of isolated rest halls and broader communal areas. A study room has been crammed with accountancy tomes, papers and other books, many torn alongside glass shards on the floor. A shakily furnished barn was coarsely repurposed for banquets. Set up, inspect, repurpose. There’s enough dust and mildew to go around, and several walls and roof stretches will need reinforcements. “Ah,” characters say innocently, “Surely the cold will keep away vermin —” You have rats. Large, uncuddly, distinctly violent, prone to swarming once the sun’s downed. Enjoy that first night. Haltham will provide some base construction supplies over a few deliveries, along with a personal gift: a herding dog, to watch over two fluffy sheep. Flex those green thumbs: many moons ago, enchantments were set in place to warm the garden to a tolerable level that will allow the expedited harvest of an arctic patch. These spells will need to be activated and periodically recharged every few days by characters donating recoverable amounts of magic or physical stamina, by touching a nearby rune. But, hey: potatoes, turnips, kale, mmmmmmmmm, a balanced diet.

“Never open your doors at night,” Haltham says on parting. Lend him an ear — and, once the moon rises, hear the forest whispers. Some voices will beg rescue from the cold, others will tease and taunt, a few will imitate enemies or kin. Some will even disrupt dreams. The voices will seek to lure characters out of their shelter. Those who heed will find themselves compelled to walk into the forest, entranced and ignorant of the cold that slowly envelops them. They will be vulnerable to the elements, tundra predators and the woodland creatures, growing increasingly feral. Those who survive the night in the forest will wake to find themselves floating in a chilled, but strangely not-yet frozen lake in the morning. They can have faint recollections, as if they themselves lived any of the following events: a friend taking a dark path, the loss of a dear skill, years in a coffin, a close friend parted, a beloved reunion, a lost brother, a tender romance and rare bliss in poverty. At the bottom of the lake, they may spot the still corpse of an undead that feels too heavy for anyone to lift. His arm has a tattooed red sleeve. During the day, characters who visit the forest will find it eerily silent, with some trees showing signs of scratches and lingering rope. The lake can still be found, but entering it during daytime will not allow characters to experience foreign memories.

Karsa will reconfigure everyone’s quartz pieces to translate outside of the House of Dew and communicate in a private channel. Still nothing like individual inboxes at this time! Up to player discretion if Karsa had the time and humour to change their usernames, or stranded them to their House of Dew identities a little longer. Characters will also be able to access a secondary local fishermen’s network and listen in on their schedules, local gossip and daily weather updates. Woodsmen, tradesmen and miners will be surprised to see anyone inhabiting the farm, with some men pulling away, calling the place cursed.

Comments

[bearshermark]

A- Chores

They had a lot of work to do: that much was clear. Eleven eyed the snowy estate, wandering decrepit halls as the bulk of them split off to explore the grounds. It was an expansive space, but dusty and run-down and in need of as much repair as Haltham implied. With little else to do, Eleven pulled his hair out of his face and set to work.

Cleaning took foremost priority, with agonizingly slow progress. Just one room could take hours to free of the most base level of dust and grime. While he was no stranger to hard chores, never had he been faced with such a large-scale project.

"Goddess," he said, leaning on his fraying broom. "By the time we're done with all this, we'll probably be leaving."


B- Farm

But by far, his favorite place in the entire estate was the garden. It too required work: weeded and cleared of debris, the soil churned once they'd sorted out how to activate the thralling magic. In a cold world plagued by death, Eleven took a fond, quiet comfort in the patch, lending attentive care to the seeds and growing sprouts with a swelling pride that came with sowing life that grew in spite of the cold.

When taking a rest or not otherwise actively occupied with work, he could often be found there, tending the buds or bundled up and writing in a journal nearby, or else muttering over a small crystal between flashes of small-scale magic. Content, in a way he hadn't been since arriving.


C- Helping Hand

"Here."

In the evenings, Eleven volunteered to seek out those that might have returned late or worse for wear to bring them food, water, a hot drink, bandages, or a brush of healing magic where needed. Almost as though he'd taken the time in the servant's quarters to heart and determined to avail his service toward improving the lives of as many of them as he could manage- though not to the extent of bending to orders. Requests, on the other hand..

Eleven offered a smile, then stepped back. "I hope that helps."


Wildcard

((Eleven's happy to help with most anything around the property, so feel free to make up a task if none of these prompts suit- or pm if you've got a different cool idea! Prose or action is fine))

B

[beitangmoran]

[Moran has probably bene forced out of the study by Xunxian and told to stay out for at least thirty minutes before he comes back because if not, he'd probably just... stay there day and night and forget to even eat and sleep, to be honest.

He likes gardens, though, and it's nice to see this one getting tended, albeit with magical help.

He goes to the spot near one of the runes, rubbing his fingers against it absentmindedly and vaguely marveling at how it seems to absorb from him. he's never met anything quite like that before.]

Quite prodigious, really.

[bearshermark]

[Eleven sits up with a smile, clear admiration in his voice]

It's brilliant magic, isn't it? Even though it'll only yield hardy crops, it's still a miracle a region like this can grow anything even at this time of year.

[beitangmoran]

Magic does seem to solve a lot of problems... and there appears to be relatively little cost to using it. Well, maybe not this one here. It does absorb life energy. It doesn't feel too unlike what happens when my power activates at times.

But to see it purposed in this way is indeed marvelous.

[Moran comes from a warm country so this was never an issue, really... he doe sgive a small shiver, in spit of the cloak Xunxian bundled him up with.]

[bearshermark]

Haltham said it's expensive thralling. I bet it takes a few talented spellcasters to put this sort of enchantment in place. I'm sure the runes to renew it have to be a secondary spell.

[He's never had such an interest in the intricacies of magic before, but attempting to learn thralling has made him long for books to study, or that he'd asked Veronica more questions about it back home]

..I'm just glad there is life here. It's been tiring, surrounded by undead.

[beitangmoran]

Oh, cost in coin for sure. But is there a cost to the people doing it? Do they pour some of themselves into it? I wonder. We Star Master are very powerful, and thus our power is limited by what it costs us to use it.

[He gives Eleven a smile.]

Now, young master El, not everyone back in the city was undead, be fair to the ladies.

[bearshermark]

[He hums with a small shrug; he can only guess.]

A-ah yes, they weren't. [That had been uncomfortable for entirely different reasons. He's heard far too much.]

But it seems as though everything not human is infected by death. Even the wolves. It's worrying, that the undead hang so heavily over this region.

A

[scrapgege]

[Xie Lian is covered in dust smudges from where he is busy scrubbing with a wet rag, but he looks pretty happy with himself and chipper.]

I've cleaned up dirtier places than this! It'll be fine. We just need to make sure we have enough closed rooms for people and a clean place to cook first, and then do the rest little by little!

i hope babby crush is ok

[bearshermark]

[Eleven glances up, then colors and looks away. Even smudged, the man is still the most beautiful person he's ever seen, period. On the walk over, he'd done his best just to not look at him and there had been plenty else to look at/focus on, and other people to talk to. But now, nerves tie up his stomach and twist his tongue]

A-ah, um, yeah. That, yes. [Scratch that: his very existence feels foolish] ..We can do it.

babby crush is absolutely ok but he probably won't notice it haha

[scrapgege]

Hm! I think the most important thing is probably to try and block all the drafts. It'll be useless having a fire or warmth inside if it's escaping through all of the holes... we should probably fix the roof too, in case it snows. Thankfully with the forest we do have possibilities.

[Xie Lian seems perfectly oblivious about the blush and stare. He'surveying his handiwork for now, and wiping his brow. He's honestly not wearing very much just a few layers of simple white robes and bandages around his wrists and neck, but he doesn't seem bothered by the cold either.]

This is almost nostalgic. It reminds me of the time I was fixing my shrine on Mount Puqi.

haha perfect i just think it's cute/funny

[bearshermark]

[Eleven nods a few too many times, then tries to turn his attention back to sweeping. They have a lot of work to do and cleaning is just the start]

Ah- a shrine? [That's a topic he can latch onto, where maybe he won't think too much about how an impossibly beautiful person is talking to him] To who? I-if I can ask.

[scrapgege]

[Xie Lian... actually looks a little embarrassed, scratching his head.]

Haha, it's... it's kind of embarrassing to say, but it was a shrine to myself.

B

[darkeststars]

One of those days, as Eleven's sitting there in the cold in his outdoor clothes scribbling away, he'll find someone nudging him slightly with one boot and glancing over the other young man with some curiosity.

"An odd place to take your leisure, out in this temperature," Archeval notes dryly, sounding a little bit amused somehow. He too is dressed for the weather, in his battle robes with a cloak thrown over his shoulders.

[unswervingcompanion]

At hearing the voice speaking, Hendrik turned. Maybe the words weren't directed at him personally, but it still paid to take heed of whoever was around. Back in their world the knight had kept an eye on the Luminary and it would remain in tact here unless the order was given otherwise.

For now the tall man looked at the unfamiliar person and figured this had to be one of the Luminary's friends since he was poking the other with a boot. That was fine since he'd seen some of their companions back home prod him with something similar, and sometimes worse. So all he would do is by a glance let the other know he'd been seen, but that was as far as their interaction would of in Hendrik's eyes. He was here to observe and learn and not interfere unless harm came the boy's way.

[bearshermark]

Eleven turned a grin up at Archeval and sat up, tucking his journal away.

"Yes, but there's life growing here. I like it."

Catching sight of Hendrik shifting in his peripheral, he cleared his throat and made to stand, dusting himself off as he did so.

"Ah, Archeval, this is Hendrik. Hendrik, Archeval. He's one of the allies I mentioned. I don't think I would have made it out of the tundra in our escape from the mines if not for him."

[darkeststars]

So, this was the infamous Hendrik, was it? The way Eleven had described him, the man had certainly sounded hard to miss, but this was above and beyond Arche's expectations. Attention drawn away from El's activities for the moment, he marched straight over to where the newcomer stood to cross his arms over his chest as he squinted upward and... upward. What stood in front of Hendrik was an exceptionally short figure for a full-grown young man, dressed in black robes from which bits of light metallic armor peeked out here and there, and looking altogether...not particularly friendly.

"Well. I don't believe you mentioned this friend of yours was the looming type, Eleven. If he was unlucky I do believe a low-flying spacecraft might graze the top of his head."

With those dryly drawled words he thrust out one black-gloved hand to offer Hendrik a shake, though the look on his face was still a little dubious, his gaze a little suspicious. One didn't last long in his line of work being strongly inclined toward trust to begin with, and the stories he'd heard of Hendrik's deeds so far didn't exactly make him inclined to offer benefit of the doubt. Eleven might be convinced the man was now his loyal protector, but Eleven was also far too nice for his own damned good.

"I am Darth Imperius, Dark Lord of the Sith Empire. But Archeval is fine. Your young friend and I--" --just from the look of him Arche couldn't possibly be more than a handful of years older than El, but there the words were-- "--Met when we were both somewhat more...indisposed."

[unswervingcompanion]

Cool blueish green eyes took in the man marching towards him even as he nodded at Eleven's introduction. The other's words weren't too friendly but Hendrik let that slide for the moment. The boy wearing black didn't bother him, after all he himself wore all black with a two headed golden eagle emblazoned both on his chest plate and the back of his cloak.

He wasn't here to start a fight, he was just here to protect his charge. But he stood his ground and didn't move an inch. And then his eyes narrowed at hearing the word dark, and that was the one word that he heard above all else.

Back home he had known a man with very long blonde hair that had served a dark master. And he'd trusted that man with his life more than once in fact, as they were boyhood friends who had grown to men and became revered and trusted knights of the realm. But then that childhood friend Jasper turned away from their boyhood pact to protect the kingdom and gave himself over to the darkness.

Was this person in front of him somehow tied to darkness here? The knight studied the other and wondered if the darkness from back home had somehow made its' way here. Back home they'd defeated Mordegon and Hendrik had thought that concluded their business with anything of that nature.

Perhaps he'd been wrong.

And maybe that explained Eleven's odd behaviour since he'd arrived. For the moment however it was a puzzle his simple mind couldn't figure out. Jasper was always so much better at strategy, riddles and puzzles than he ever would be.

"I see." was all he said.

B.

[foxable]

Fox went looking for Eleven in the garden. He'd only seen flashes of him on their hike up to the farm - he'd been too busy pretending to be a fox for Haltham - but Mingyu had pointed him out once they'd arrived. So he found Eleven in the garden, muttering over a crystal, and squatted down next to him.

"Is that a focus?" He asked, going straight for the magic instead of bothering to introduce himself. Or say Hi.

[bearshermark]

Eleven startled, body snapping to sit up, though a bit too fast as he nearly fell over instead. He straightened with a huff and sheepish smile. He'd been too focused. But he turned eyes over the stranger, certain he must be one of the newer arrivals.

"Ah, hello. Um, no, it's just.. I've been trying to thrall it. ..I haven't managed anything yet."

[foxable]

"Oh man, yeah, I've been fiddling with mine and even just figuring out how the hell the spell is written in the first place is like trying to untangle fucking DNA or something."

He tilted his head to look at Eleven, before continuing:

"You've been trying? Does that mean you have an idea of how they do it? I do a lot of enchantment magic, maybe if you have some clues I can help?"

[bearshermark]

Well, at least now he had a good idea of who this was, now.

"No," he admitted, ducking his head, "Karsa wouldn't tell me- said I'd be stealing her business. The other sorcerers seemed to think the same. But, that tells me it shouldn't be all that difficult, if they're so worried about competition. Just.. I've been trying incantations, suffusing it with energy.. You'd probably have better luck at it than me, since you can already do something like it."

B

[binghua]

Xingchen has been helping clean and organize the farmhouse where he can, though like in the House of Dew, there's only so much he can do before he simply gets in the way. Even out here, in the open, he's not sure how much help he'll be, but at least he'll have more space.

But when he gets to the garden, and stoops down to touch the newly-tilled earth, he realizes someone else has gotten here first. That's fine, as long as someone has the foresight to take care of it. As he brushes his fingers along the earth or gently over tender sprouts, he speaks quietly to them. "Grow big and strong, okay?" Silly, perhaps, but a little smile rests on his face all the same.

[bearshermark]

Eleven turns a broader smile toward the encouraging sentiment, charmed by the simple tenderness behind it.

"They'll produce the best beets and turnips any of us have ever tasted." He'd always heard that love and care went a long way to helping everything from crops and animals grow and he had no reason to doubt it himself.

"So long as we can protect them from bad turns in weather, anyway."

[binghua]

The answering voice comes not from the plants - that would be strange, even in this place - but from nearby. It doesn't frighten Xingchen; he had sensed another presence close and he recognizes the voice instantly. There is no reason to fear Eleven in his experiences and his own words are kind. "Even if they are not the best, we must be grateful for what is given to us." Then again, Xingchen is the kind of person who would eat an often picked-over vegetable from the produce vendors in the market, so perhaps he isn't the best judge of food character.

He pulls his hand away from the plants and slips it into his sleeve, keeping himself as warm as he can. "We will do the best we can." The cold here rivals some of the worst winters he's experienced back home and Xingchen tries to remember if he's ever grown any kind of food in such harsh months. Even on the mountain, he can only recall helping prepare meals from stockpiled resources. Thankfully they've been gifted some such food, but with as many people as they have living here, it's safe to say they could easily deplete it all if they aren't careful. They truly must take care of this little garden. "Let us hope the laying chickens are fruitful, as well." The thought of eating the chickens themselves of course sounds good, but that needs to be a last resort. Eggs will be valuable during their stay here.

Those are all obvious thoughts, he thinks. Turning toward where he thinks Eleven is, he changes the topic. "It isn't exactly pleasant out here. I hope you are suitably clothed."

[bearshermark]

"More dressed than you are," Eleven assures with a laugh. "I'd bought attire designed to protect a smith from the heat of a forge, but it's doing well to keep away the cold now, too."

Though he wears the gloves on and off, as doing much of anything in them is difficult. His voice softens a little, fond.

"I just think it's wonderful that we're able to cultivate life here, and the plants are good company. I like to think that maybe I'm helping them, too."