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.
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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. |
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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. |
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“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. |
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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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groundrules) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
westwhere2021-05-10 08:56 pm
no subject
"The bit where I was running around trying to avoid getting killed while learning to use my power? Most of that was avoiding him and his people. I was apprentice to someone he had it out for, and an upstart slave besides, so I suppose he thought he had free rein. Too bad for that idiot, if he'd only damned well left me alone he could still be going about his slimy business now."
He sneered out at the garden as he spoke the words, plainly without any sympathy toward the man who'd forced him into a duel to the death. It wasn't as if Arche hadn't killed plenty in his career, but Darth Thanaton had been the only opponent to come after him again and again and again until there was simply no choice but to eliminate the man for his own continued survival. Much as Arche had hated him, he supposed he had to be grateful to Thanaton in one respect -- the sheer brutality of those months under his cruel attention had proven an excellent crash course in learning how to make sure no other Sith Lord after him would dare try the same.
".......anyhow."
There was a moment's pause after that, as Arche realized he'd been sitting here going on about himself for really quite some time. He shifted to rub his hands together a bit against the cold as he gave El an awkward look again.
"Enough monologue. I only meant to--..."
Well. He'd noticed El sitting out on the grounds, and had approached with no greater thought in mind but to pester him a moment and perhaps enjoy his company. But now that he thought about it in those terms, he certainly couldn't be caught dead saying that out loud.
".......ah. Nothing important. But I hope you'll think on what I've said."
no subject
"Sorry," he said, abashed. He had been asking rather much. But he was glad that they were friends enough now that Archeval would answer some of them.
"..I'm glad we met before I could sense your energy," he mused with a slight smile. "I would have treated you unfairly. That's something I'll certainly keep in mind."
no subject
"Though I suppose I've had more practice at reaching across the aisle lately. Thankfully so, now that we're stuck among this motley group. Don't know that I would've been quite so good at holding my tongue a few years earlier." Which was a funny claim considering he'd opened this whole conversation doing his level best to antagonize Hendrik, of course -- but perhaps that only meant he'd been even worse in the past, who knew.
"By the way, though -- exactly how long have you been sitting out here in the cold scribbling away, anyhow?" For a moment, another look of amusement passed across his face, though he was adjusting his cloak again as he said it. After years of living on a rainforest planet, and then spending the last few months in the jungles of Rishi and Yavin 4, his own ability to deal with the cold was not as robust as it had once been.
"I must confess I find it hard to believe a bunch of plants could be alluring enough to risk frostbite for. Have you done a lot of... this sort of thing? Gardening?"
no subject
"I do know a bit about farming, though." He turned a smile back on Archeval, the conversation taking on an effortless shift, as though there had never been anything to worry about. "Cobblestone was pretty deep in the mountains, so we grew most of our own food, took care of our animals.. You could say I've put myself to good use, here."
Granted, he wasn't doing much, now.
"Besides," he said, opening his fingers in a familiar trick as fire sprung over his palm. "I don't think I'm much at risk of frostbite."
no subject
"You'll have to forgive us less privileged souls who can only hope for some extra wood around to shock until it catches fire. But it certainly sounds as though you're the right man for the job." He could imagine it being a peaceful existence -- out in some green countryside with beloved family, spending quiet hours digging into the dirt, spraying water over growing stalks, bathing and brushing and feeding...whatever sort of livestock was kept on Erdrea. Not a bad life, surely. No wonder the idea of being a Prince seemed to hold no real allure for Eleven.
no subject
"I'll make you a fire anytime you'd like," he offered, "I only wish I could somehow give it to people to hold or something. That's why I've been trying to learn thralling. But for now, you're probably better off asking Fox to enchant something to keep warm."
He envied the man his skill for that, but he'd promised to help him learn too, so he could look forward to that.
"I didn't mean to keep you out here, though," Eleven said, apologetic. "I should probably head back in, too. Get a bit more work done around the place. The plants only need so much attention."
no subject
"Best that I met your friend with you present, I imagine, and we have certainly had... an enlightening conversation." He paused again for a second at that, pursing his lips.
"--I should hope it goes without saying, I'd prefer if none of this were repeated to others. Particularly not Fox, if you've been spending time around him. That one seems to be wholly missing a brain-to-mouth filter."
After another second's hesitation, he reached out to offer El a hand up.
no subject
"Of course," he promised, dusting himself off. He liked Fox so far, but he could see where Archeval was coming from; he did seem chatty. Eleven bent to retrieve his journal and tucked it away, then shifted his weight, suddenly a touch awkward.
"Sorry about.. being out of sorts there, for a bit- if you felt all of that. But uh, I appreciate you talking to me."
no subject
"...I try not to pry too much without need. Awkward, for one thing. But sometimes these things come to me instead," he noted with a wry quirk of one brow.
"Anyhow--..." There was another moment of hesitation as he folded his arms behind his back.
"I asked, didn't I? And you answered. Surely honesty does not need apologies. And we both... have something to think about now."
With that, giving a brief nod in the way of a goodbye, he turned to go leave El to the rest of his day at last.