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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westwhere2021-05-10 08:56 pm
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Have you been a in a rundown place like this before, then?
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Not... exactly.
But, I was a servant to a noble household. My main focus was attending to the young master, but he always was excellent at keeping me on my toes.
[ including purposely trashing his room so he could chat with Gil instead of Gil potentially bring called away. ]
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[Xie Lian did spend his childhood and adolescence being attended to, until he fell low enough that he had to do it for himself. he feels a little ashamed that he never really paid attention to the servants, even if he was always polite to them.]
Let's see what we can do with our cleaning supplies them. There's not need to use the drinkable water from the well either, we can just use crushed snow to wash the floors.
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'Hard' didn't even ever come to mind.
So, I think the master makes all the difference in a servant's life.
[ Gilbert nods at the suggestion, agreeing, before taking a brief look around, measuring what needs to be moped versus possibly swept further. ]
I can go get some snow if you want.
Have you heard from anyone else why this is all abandoned, anyway? It seems strange it isn't occupied at all. Even thieves could make use of a place like this for a hideout, but we really seem to be the only ones around.
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... It doesn't look like it's been trashed either, except by the elements. Quite odd.
[But sometimes, if you wait long enough, the answers to your questions will come unexpectedly.]
Maybe it's a sacred place. Or a cursed one. It doesn't feel cursed, but it would just be I can't detect it.
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The question is whether it's actually something like a curse or a just really convincing legend among the locals.
[ he pauses. ]
... Although, I wonder if belief alone is enough to actually make it really cursed, in a way we can't particularly sense?
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It was abandoned when we got here but there were people sort of ... defending it? So it has to mean something to them.
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[Why is he asking...]
Did you feel something different?
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No. They stayed around here for some reason, however, and haven't bothered to mingle with the more structured society. I wonder what benefit they perceive from it.
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[As is usually the case with those types.]
We'll see if they come back, I guess. The wolves might be more of a problem.
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[Quite the opposite, in fact.]
I don't know that we'll be staying too long here anyway. I think they want us out of the region entirely so hopefully, we can give this place back to who it belongs.
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