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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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."

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.

"Arch--" Eleven said, though it was too late. His attempt at goodwill vanished in only moments.

He held his breath, heart in his throat and intent on Hendrik's reaction. He imagined everything from Hendrik attacking the man to dragging Eleven himself off to safety. But in the end, it was something akin to a terse dismissal. Clearly, they wouldn't be friends.

Still, he breathed quiet relief. That it wasn't more than that was a blessing, but for how Archeval's opinion might shift. At least there, he was... reasonably certain? he wouldn't attack Hendrik.

..Probably.

"..He's done nothing to harm me," Eleven argued further on the Sith Lord's behalf. "Even knowing we're opposites in- in spirit."

Perhaps it should have come as no surprise that the Dark Lord's ideas about how to interact with a new and untried stranger didn't necessarily pass Eleven's muster. Archeval glanced over with a dubiously raised brow as El started in on that explanation, though, finally lowering his outstretched hand. He supposed to himself with some amount of sardonic amusement that he couldn't really blame Hendrik for not taking it.

"I should hope that would go without saying. You saved my hide more than once, I've done my best to return the favor. It's hardly my policy to go around wasting my good efforts at keeping people alive."

Settling his arms crossed over his chest again, he peered back up Hendrik's way with another raised brow.

"Your charge and I led the mission to get all of you off the ship together. You'd be surprised what dark and light can accomplish together when they work toward the same end," he said with a wry quirk of one brow. He didn't trust this man and he highly doubted this man was ever going to trust him, so might as well lay all those cards fully on the table.

"I don't believe I saw you then, but I suppose I was busy getting dragged around down in the hull. Do you happen to remember how you were brought here?"

Darkness had taken his home first as a boy. His father was a knight in the kingdom of Zwaardsrust and had hidden his son in the basement. Years later he witnessed the fall of Dundrasil, the Luminary's home. Had fate been kinder the boy would've been raised as a Prince of Dundrasil and would be first in line for the throne had his parents lived. Next, the World Tree had fallen and the Luminary with it. Next, his friend Jasper and the king of Heliodor had fallen prey to its clutches. So hearing about darkness, well it wasn't Hendrik's friend at all.

The knight continued his silence as the two conversed, and he remained watchful that nothing adverse happened. There was more of it even when he was addressed, hearing the words spoken about what darkness and light could accomplish together. Had fate not taken his boyhood friend he well understood what two people could accomplish. He and Jasper were quite the team, or rather had been.

And the only reason he hadn't done anything that the Luminary had feared was because that boy trusted this dark one. So that was the only reason he remained calm.]

"I do not recall how I ended up here but it is of no consequence now. All that matters is that the Luminary remains unharmed." The boy had done his part with destiny, but for some reason that destiny wasn't done with Eleven. And mayhaps he too had something yet to do still since he was here with his charge.

Eleven settled. It looked as though so long as Archeval didn't harm him, there would be a tenuous peace, at least. He could be grateful for that. Although, he might not be grateful for the return of his title. Still, they aren't friends quite yet.

"Sorry," Eleven offered Archeval a hapless shrug. "I hope it's not too off-putting."

Archeval simply gave a shrug, regarding that impassive stare a couple feet over his head with a wry look of his own before he glanced from Hendrik back to Eleven again.

"I can work with anyone," he reminded the other young man, quirking one brow.

"As it is, I don't believe your friend and I have anything to be at odds about. As long as his intentions truly are all that he claims they are, of course." A challenging glance from the Dark Lord settled back on Hendrik again, just for a moment. Misplaced though his caution might have been, it seemed Archeval was determined to look after Eleven's interests against all comers.

"He wishes to keep you from harm, and I wish the same. Simple enough."

Arche glanced between the pair for a moment then with a curious look.

"'Luminary', though, hm? I take it that's you?"

This man had kept the Luminary safe all this time and Hendrik scowled at the implication that he would harm the boy or allow harm to come to him. That insult alone made him want to rethink his neutral stance. So the other's challenging glance was met with a glare.

Knowing the other had saved his charge was the only reason the knight didn't lash out. "We will see to the matter regarding your intentions." And if the other made one false move Hendrik wouldn't hesitate to correct the error. But on the other hand as long as this man protected the Luminary as well, he was right in stating that there would be no quarrel between them personally.

However, the knight's gaze went to Eleven a bit puzzledly. Apparently he'd said nothing of who he was back home?

Eleven winced, sensing the tension increase and knowing it's his fault. He'd told Archeval about Hendrik, and their meeting wasn't the most flattering story. He wasn't sure he could see them actually working together. But.. neither had he expected the Sith lord to express such concern for his well-being, either.

"Ah... yes," he said after another moment, slowly taking wary eyes off his protector again. He was glad at least that the knight hadn't expounded too much in response. Archeval knew plenty enough as it was.

"..It's my title, anyway."

He fidgeted, wondering if perhaps Archeval might remember that he'd named his forged knife Lumis and how truly apt that name was now.

It would've been hard to forget, considering that the blade was squirreled away on his person even now. Arche made no move for it at the moment, though, since such an action would definitely send the wrong message at this particular juncture; but he did cast Eleven an amused look as he reached up to adjust his cloak a bit against the cold.

"You have a title, hm. I suppose you mentioned you'd been chosen for great things and all that, but somehow I hadn't imagined it being quite so formal. Been hiding some sort of noble lineage from me, have you? Or perhaps you're more along the lines of a priest?"

He gave a little shrug.

"Not that I suppose it matters. None of our little group's titles and ranks mean a whit to anyone here, after all. If you prefer to leave all that behind for now--..." He spread his hands with an ambivalent look, apparently much more willing than Eleven's protector to simply ignore the whole matter. Perhaps it was simply because he'd known El for a much shorter time under far different circumstances from Hendrik, or perhaps he treated all fancy titles so lightly.

Hendrik's eyes slid over the Luminary at hearing the question about a noble lineage. This was up to the other to explain or not. Dundrasil was a fallen kingdom so with Eleven being an heir to a throne there, well he wasn't sure it was going to count. But in the future if he chose to rebuild the kingdom, Hendrik would be right there to help as much as he possibly could.

And as he listened, it didn't sound as if the other knew what the title of Luminary meant. If he did, he was keeping that close to his chest or as it seemed, dismissing the matter altogether. And this was completely fine with the knight.

So he directed his words to the Luminary himself. "If I am no longer needed here, I will go scout around."

"No-" Eleven started, then winced.

He stopped to settle a surprised look on Hendrik, who of all things, was volunteering to leave him alone with Archeval.

"Uh, okay," he allowed, "Um, be careful of the wolves." Not that.. the wolves stood a chance against Hendrik, but Eleven could almost guarantee one of them would find him whenever he stepped out.

He turned back to Archeval. "But no, I'm not- well, that's-" Eleven scrubbed a hand through his hair. "..Technically, I guess, but the kingdom fell when I was an infant.."

All things considered, Arche looked rather surprised by Hendrik's offer himself, already having been in the middle of considering whether he should extricate himself from this whole conversation -- but if he'd passed muster in the man's eyes enough to be allowed alone time with the "Luminary" without any fuss, well, he wasn't going to complain. He still wasn't fully convinced of this Hendrik's intentions given the history he'd heard about, but picking unnecessary fights was not going to benefit anybody in a place where forest creatures or walking corpses might descend upon them again at any time.

"Well, this has been an... enlightening meeting," he said with another wry glance upward toward the big man. "If you've need of safe passage through the city at any time, come find me -- for a friend of Eleven's I'll see what I can do. I am better at passing unnoticed than most, and I can extend that to those around me as well, at least somewhat. And I suppose if anything else comes to mind, feel free to ask."

He'd never been much of one for social niceties, and he certainly wasn't about to start now, so any 'nice meeting you's or 'see you later's went unspoken as he glanced between the knight and his...apparently noble charge.

"....hm, but so you actually-- You're serious." He took in Eleven's tone and the feel of him in the Force with a vaguely nonplussed blink, voice turning dry again. "I wasn't serious. We've a great deal more nobility amongst this little group than I would've expected, it seems. But yes, from what you've already said-- you were raised as a commoner...?"

Pulling his cloak a little further around himself, he crossed to find a place to sit nearby Eleven in the grass, content to just stop and relax for a moment. From all appearances, he seemed to be asking out of simple and earnest curiosity.

Edited 2021-05-19 03:04 (UTC)

"Oh, you weren't?"

Woops. But he spared one last reassuring smile and wave to his guardian as Hendrik turned to leave and hoped it was enough to assuage the worst of the man's fears as he reclaimed the same spot Archeval had found him in.

"I didn't find out until last year. And there's only ruins left of it now, so it only means something to a few people in Erdrea- and even less to anyone here, as you mentioned. It's not a title I feel I can claim, but... Hendrik might have told you at some point, so I'd rather you didn't think I was lying to you if he did. I know you- well, you don't like nobles, for some reason."

That just earned a confused blink from Archeval for a moment, the other glancing over with a furrowed brow.

"What do you mean? I don't l--... ......Ah. No, it's not like that. I don't like slavers," he corrected quietly, giving a little sigh as he glanced off to one side with a pursed lips and a faintly awkward look.

"...I've nothing against nobles in specific, though anyone with power and money who chooses to misuse it can take a walk out an airlock as far as I'm concerned. But having some title all of a sudden hardly makes you a different person, even if you did choose to claim it."

Another pause. He stared up into the cloudy white sky over the garden for a moment with a bland, unreadable look.

"I was born in the slave pens of a colony world, and now I am one of the rulers of our Empire," he went on, quietly.

"But 'Darth Imperius, the Dark Councilor' -- he is still Archeval, the Vakkari boy who grew up sewing uniforms. I've not become someone else just because I was given a fancy name. And I would never assume any different of you. A title is just a tool, like any other. Pick it up when it's useful, put it down when it's not. It does not define you."

Eleven blinked, having hoped that perhaps Archeval might tell him why he disliked nobles, but he hadn't dared to expect much more.

He'd been a slave- a slave that rose to great power. No doubt he'd worked tirelessly to achieve it, fighting to prove his worth every step of the way. It was rather the opposite for himself, born noble, though raised as a commoner, then thrust into fate's grand (failing) design.

"Hm.." The idea that a title didn't define a person. Certainly, the title of Prince meant little, and didn't make him one. But the title of Luminary affixed itself to the person Yggdrasil had marked for greatness. ..Admittedly, that didn't make him a hero by default.

"You earned your titles. That's probably the way it should be. It's amazing, what you've accomplished."

".....I-- suppose...?"

Arche wrinkled his nose with a bit of a confused look at that, plainly not having expected this sort of response. Being praised for accomplishments wasn't exactly something he'd experienced much in his life, and it...itched a little. Particularly as he was fairly sure Eleven actually meant those painfully earnest words. At least the last time someone had told him he'd done a good job at something, it had been his old master and he'd known she was only saying it as a way to lower his guard when it came time to murder him. That sort of known quantity was much easier to deal with than uncharted territory like this.

"It's a little more complicated than that, but I guess I didn't... not put in work to get here," he frowned half to himself at last.

"But I wasn't trying to rule the Empire. It got dropped in my lap through exceedingly unhappy coincidence. Just because a Council seat was empty and mine was the closest rear end qualified to put into it--..." He gave a little sigh, scratching his head.

"I just mean to say -- I am still only me, just with quite a few more annoying responsibilities. So hopefully I understand. I wouldn't judge you for an accident of your birth, not when I already know your character well enough. And at any rate--" He offered the other a brief dry look now.

"From your various tales, it sounds to me like you've been doing your best to try to earn yours too."

He laughed with a self-deprecating smile.

"I'm failing mine, pretty admirably. I'm not qualified at all." He glanced down at his lap where his fingers twined together. "..I think there was a plan, before Dundrasil fell, to teach me everything as I grew up, but even the Arborians thought I'd died that night. It wasn't until I'd come of age and went to visit Carnelian that anyone knew I existed."

He sighed, glancing up. "But.. all that matters right now is staying alive in this world. I'll keep praying, I'll try to become stronger and more wise. Then when we return to our own worlds, maybe I'll have an idea of how I can bring the light back to Erdrea."

Archeval was frowning faintly over at El again as he spoke those words, but the expression was a thoughtful one this time. He started to say something, paused, thought better of it. Started again.

"......so then, let me see if I have the right of this," he murmured.

"You were brought up in a normal, unremarkable life. Only quite late you found out you had a power, a birthright that no other could fill. You hastily picked up what you could about the matter with no one to properly teach you, dodging those determined to kill you along the way. And then you found out you were the heir to a lost legacy snuffed out by enemies of your family line? Would that be an accurate way to put it?"

There was... something about the look on Arche's face now. Almost as though it couldn't decide whether to be deeply amused or somewhat unnerved.

Eleven tipped his head. Most of it rang true enough, with minor corrections.

"Um, I don't think the forces of darkness were personal enemies of my birth family in particular- they destroyed at least two other kingdoms long before I was ever born - but otherwise.."

He took note of the odd look on Archeval's face, though couldn't be sure what to make of it. "..I'd guess that's a good summary of why I failed."

For a second, a little grin twitched across Arche's face as he stared back up into the cloudy sky with an expression of amused disbelief.

"...The Force works in mysterious ways. Or perhaps your goddess, for all I know."

Apparently no explanation was forthcoming for that cryptic statement, but the expression on his usually dour face was oddly light, particularly considering that heavy confession of inadequacy El had just made. Slowly, Archeval gave a little shake of his head.

"Of course you haven't failed. You're just in the middle of finding the solution. The fight's not over until you're in the ground, and sometimes not even then."

He had a feeling Archeval knew or suspected something, yet equally certain he wouldn't hear of it even if he asked.

Eleven hummed and gave a noncommittal shrug. It was tempting, now that he'd admitted to failure, to list all the ways in which it was irreversible, but felt less steady just thinking about them. Instead, he took in a fortifying breath. He had to focus on what he could still do.

"Sometimes, not even then," he repeated with a nod. "I'm only alive through the efforts of others- including yours, now- so I can't waste it."

Edited 2021-05-19 08:05 (UTC)

Archeval gave the other young man a dry look.

"You tell me one thing with your mouth, and then you sit there loudly feeling the exact opposite. What am I supposed to do with that, hm?"

He spread his hands a moment before sitting back a little more in the tundra grass, propping himself against his hands as he turned a slow glance away around the garden. When he thought on it, it really was astounding to see green plants growing in a place like this, smack in the middle of all this desolation. Coaxing a little patch of spring out of the depths of winter -- the ingenuity of humans, of sentients, truly was a remarkable thing.

"I know I am an outsider. I'm not privy to all the details of why you are so sure this thing is unsalvageable. But search your feelings. If you truly believed, in your heart of hearts, that there was nothing to be done and your planet was doomed -- why keep getting up, after you've been knocked down? Why be stubborn if there is no hope left?"

He met the other's eyes with a significant glance, raising his brows. Perhaps it was his own sheer stubbornness that had him speaking at such length about the subject, or perhaps that feeling of being at the end of one's rope that tugged on his senses through the Force just hit a little too close to home.

"I think you already know it, don't you?" he went on softly.

"The answer is waiting out there. You've only to find it, or to discover it within yourself. And it's not like you're doing it alone. The efforts of others surely don't stop at just keeping you alive. Even here now you've your brick wall to count on, and I'm sure there are more back home, hm? Holding down the fort as we speak. Perhaps there is something only you can do, but that doesn't mean there is nothing that they can do."

He gave a little shrug.

"Take it from one who has been to many dark places and back. I wasn't describing your life just now, I was telling the story of mine. I don't see how you haven't earned your title. You've put in your effort, fought the fight and then some. And no matter the odds stacked against you, you have still not failed yet."

Edited 2021-05-19 18:25 (UTC)

Eleven's heart stuttered in his chest, left to stare at Archeval in disbelief. His own- how could..? He swallowed in an effort to tamper down the growing threat of labored breaths even while his eyes watered. He hadn't been prepared for- well, this. Goddess, even if Archeval could... read him like that, it wouldn't make him feel less foolish if he started openly weeping. It seemed he wasn't going to do as good a job of appearing to be fine as he'd thought.

"I, um, Yggdrasil fell," he confessed heavily, gripping his own arms as he turned his eyes back to the garden. "A lot of people.. I don't know how to restore Her, but Queen Marina said, much as you did, that.. my companions are out there- sparks of light- doing their best."

He sniffed and cleared his throat, then shook his head. "I was under the ocean for months. All that time, Hendrik kept going out, finding survivors, bringing them back to the fortress. I was so lost when I made it back, finding the world was dark, but he had become a hero to everyone. I can't help but admire him for that, and if everyone else is trying that hard even without the title of Luminary, well, what excuse do I have to give up? There must be something I can still do, to help. There must be a reason Yggdrasil chose me. Maybe it wasn't for my strength. If that's all She wanted, then Hendrik would have been a much better choice."

He huffed a breath, feeling just a little steadier for saying the words aloud. "I just need to have faith, and keep doing what I can. People are depending on me."

"We do what we can," Archeval agreed quietly, watching the other's face. He mercifully refrained from commenting on any of those sniffles.

"In my experience, the important thing is simply to refuse to stop, no matter what happens. Here, too. But, ah, I'll quit with my lecturing like an old grandmother."

He subsided into quiet for a moment, glancing away again with a slightly awkward look on his face. It was one thing to start talking this way with someone like Ashara, a literal student of whatever he cared to teach; but Eleven certainly wasn't his apprentice or subordinate or anything close. And of course, he had no way of knowing the true situation on the ground over on Erdrea, but -- still. If there was one thing he'd learned absolutely without doubt since first being brought to the Sith, it was that a strong will could make the impossible possible, could win out against even the most overwhelming of odds -- could shake the very galaxy itself. 'Through passion I gain strength, and through strength, power'...

A great many aspects of the Sith Order and its hierarchy were utterly ridiculous, of course, but -- in his experience, the Code had always rung true.

"...I'm sorry to hear of your loss, though," he ventured tentatively at last, gaze tilting up toward the clouds again. While they were already on painful subjects and all.

"To have family you never knew. Sounds like a great deal to get used to in not much time."

out you go, shoo

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