westwhere | out you go, shoo

out you go, shoo

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.

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[ Five looks over his shoulder at the page, and the notes on the side without comment. At least one of them is familiar, but the other doesn't match anything he recognizes. It still seems strange, that as much as he's learned and traveled, that they would stumble on something he couldn't place.

Lifting his gaze, he considers the man. Getting lost in his work is... a relatable experience. ]

How long have you been working on this?

Since we arrived here. I've tried to decipher a few words on shopping lists before, but our previous accommodation didn't really have a bevy of reading material, and I couldn't acquire that many while in town.

[He has that star chart, that he managed to have someone more or less explain and annotated, but for the rest... just a few notes, and he cannot be sure of he accuracy of them.]

In terms of the spoken language, I have picked up a few greetings and expressions of gratitude, I think, from going to the market a few times. But the problem is matching the spoken and the written, and I do not think I can do this with what we have now, short of finding a literate native who can enlighten us.

I can analyze patterns, but if there is no reference to another language that I know, it won't help me much.

[ He hums, half listening, half examining the page. He picks up one of the unopened books on the side to flip through. ]

I don't suppose we could pay for a translator. [ They have the coin, even if they don't all realize it. As admirable as he finds the progress he's made so far on his own. Although Moran is at least one person he might be able to tolerate working with, in this instance.

He looks back at the shelf and holds up the book already in hand. ]

Any of these you're not using?

I looked through all of them, and they all looked pretty similar, so I selected ten to work from. Feel free to have a look that the others.

[Moran looks att he teacup at his elbow, cold and forgotten.]

I'll go and make more tea. Would you like some as well? It's easy enough to make a full pot rather than just a cup.

[ Five sets the book down and nods again belatedly. His caffeine addiction has suffered lately, which likely contributed to his perpetual bad mood. It might keep him here a bit longer. ]

Unless someone thought to pick up some coffee.

[ He can dream. ]

... Coffee?

[What is this thing you speak of, Five, he's never heard of coffee before.]

Is that a beverage?

[ He looks at him, slightly disappointed, but can't be surprised. While he knows his history of coffee, including when and where to expect to find it, that seems useless here. ]

A beverage, yeah. Stronger than tea.

[ If he had it, he's sure he would be thinking a lot more clearly. ]

Stronger? That sounds useful. But no I haven't heard of that around. I think the only stronger thing they have here is alcohol.

[And if there is any of the stuff in here, it's probably not safe to drink anymore.]

I'll be right back.

[It's probably longer than Five expect, because water has to be boil on the fire and Moran is exacting about the temperature to brew his tea at, but finally he's back with what he deems a decent pot and an extra cup for Five.]

I'm planning to go to town visit one of the booksellers. They might be able to help with this.

[ He'd take the alcohol too if it was offered. At least that's easier to come by.

Five doesn't say anything else when he leaves, and seems perfectly content to rifle through the books on his own. He's selected one to look over, and another that he's planning to use to replace his last notebook.

When Moran comes back, he's scribbling on the open book in his hands, and he only looks up when he speaks. The tea gets a second glance and he shifts up in his seat, considering something while he gets the cup he offered. ]

Do you have enough coin?

I assume so?

[Why would you ask him this, Five? Does he look like someone who takes care of his own money? He's wearing silk robes embroidered with silver thread, for heaven's sake.]

Xunxian will know, I'm sure. It's of no consequence.

[If he needs money, he asks Xunxian, and Xunxian makes it happen. That's how it works.]

[ He's at least considerate enough to ask, since it's been a while and he didn't really give him an equal share. It's good to know they didn't spend it all.

Shrugging, he sets the book aside so he can grab a sip of the tea. It's not coffee, but -- ]

Not terrible. [ The he sniffs and looks back up at him with what passes as a pleasant smile. He likes Moran. ] Bookseller, hm? Maybe grab something with pictures in it.

I'm planning on seing if there's maybe an instructional manual for reading or children's book. And I'll take one of these with me, see if there's anyone there who can read it. It might be too old for that, but you never know.

[Moran also takes a sip of tea, and makes a face.]

... This ranks pretty high on the list of the worst teas I've had in my life, but it's warm and beggars can't be choosers.

[For now, though, he is a bit tired of the account books, so he'll put them to the side and pull out the star chart he acquired.]

[ His smile turns more genuine when he makes that face. How relatable. ]

I was being polite.

[ If he ever does manage to track down coffee in this place, he doubts it will fare much better. Better to be prepared to be disappointed. It's slim pickings in a zombie war. ]

What's that? [ Five sets the cup down when the chart he pulls out gets his attention, and his interest grows once he realizes what kind it is. Not what he expected to see in an old farm house. ]

We robbed a bank together. I think we're familiar enough to forgo fake politeness, don't you think?

[It was Moran's first heist too and he found it very entertaining.]

This is a star chart. I noticed the stars were different when I arrived, so I made some observations and then went to find one of these. The constellations are completely different from what I'm used to. Yet my power still works, even though the constellation I am the Master of doesn't exist here.

[ He purses his lips in thought at that. It's true, they did rob a bank together. His first time too. He supposes that's... something people could bond over, if he were the type.

But that thought gets shelved with these new distractions he brings up. ]

They're different. [ He has to sit with that. The math just keeps getting more complicated, and he can already tell he's going to abandon his language project for it once they're done talking. He leans over the chart to examine it more closely, brow furrowed.

This is a lot to take in this late at night. ]

... I don't think you ever explained your power to me. I only remember hearing something about astrology.

I am the Aquarius Star Master. The constellation I preside over gives me visions of the future.

[It's actually weird for Moran to have to keep explaining this to people. he's so used to everyone knowing about it.]

[ And he's used to knowing the future. So of course he has to ask, no matter how many times he's heard it: ]

Have you had any since you've been here?

A few. Not that I think it will be very helpful. It seems most people here don't really understand what those entails.

[They can be useful at times, but more often than not, it's like an ominous warning.]

I cannot activate the power myself, or choose what I want to look at. The stars make it happen. I don't get context, and I don't get to know how far in the future the vision is. It could be a few seconds ahead, or it could be years ahead.

The only thing I know for certain is that my visions are always accurate. You cannot prevent the events that they show.

[Go on, tell him it's useless like Master Lan did.]

[ Five isn't Master Lan. He's talking to someone who has an extensive knowledge of what's done to maintain the timeline, who takes exception to the phrase 'what has to happen' when he has the power to go back and change it.

All that means is he's paying close attention to him. ]

Maybe not the first time around. [ He gives a very brief smile. The chart is forgotten as he turns towards him. ] What kind of events? I'm assuming they would have some major significance.

Most of them, yes, but not always. You'd be surprised. Sometimes, it can be quite mundane.

It's come in useful to inform certain decisions that I had to make at times. And, interestingly, it sometimes activates in combat, but again not necessarily when I want to.

[It's a bit frustrating sometimes to be the only Star Master with a passive ability.]

On the other hand, I have fewer chances of being drained of energy when that happens because it is quite brief and not as intense as what most other Star Masters can do.

[ It's not that he wants to take advantage of his power, exactly, but it gives him another reason to check in with him more often if he's willing to share. He knows from experience how seemingly mundane things can have the greatest significance. ]

What was the last one?

During the fight with the wolves. Just enough to dodge quite accurately.

[Sometimes, it's pretty useful in the moment, and not just grand visions of the glorious future.]

Apart from that... a battle of the Undead.

[ He looks down for a moment and nods. ]

Has the battle happened yet?

I don't think so. But I can't tell you when it's going to happen either.

[So yeah, not super useful this time.]

I also did not see who won.

[ It's vague and probably could have been predicted otherwise, but he won't discount anything. ]

Nobody you recognized among them?

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