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 part of him is relieved, largely because if he hadn’t minded parting with the scale, he would have done so before. It isn't sentimental, but it grants him an edge of strength he'd prefer to keep. The ointments he's asking after however, aren't likely to come cheaply.

But, if he thinks it isn't necessary, then.. Eleven's fingers tighten over it, beneath Wei Wuxian's insistence.

"..Yes, there are dragons," he says, quietly puzzled. "I suppose they're rare if you don't travel off the road much, but there are plenty of them."

[weifinder]

He follows the shift in conversation, blinking and then laughing with a shake of his head. "I've never seen such things, I wouldn't know that they're no possibly living in the world, too many strange things are, but I can't say I've seen one in body. What're they like?"

[bearshermark]

"Um," he says helpfully, not expecting Wei Wuxian's interest, but willing to indulge him- to talk about something less stressful than scarce coin and rudimentary supplies.

He tucks the scale away and gives the question a further moment's thought. "There are a couple of different kinds, but generally, they're a bit large and scaled. They usually have some sort of breath attack or use magic."

Spoken as one who's largely fought them rather than found a particular interest in them, the details are a bit dry. But a brief smile tugs at his lips.

"I've usually tried to avoid them."

[weifinder]

"Breath attack?" He seems even more intrigued now, gesturing vaguely toward his mouth. "What's that, their breath's so bad people keel over sick?"

A grin and a light laugh as he's not seriously believing as much, though there are notes on such creatures who do have that trait in the various books he's read over the years.

"Mah, who wants to go out searching for troublesome creatures? Until they're a danger to the livelihoods of others, there are times facing them is better than looking away."

[bearshermark]

Eleven huffs a laugh, because he isn't terribly far off.

"I mean they breathe fire, more often than not. But there are also those that breathe toxins that can immobilize a person for a time." Those are the most troublesome sorts of monsters, in his opinion.

He shrugs. "But I don't often see them near towns, and usually more trouble than they're worth to combat if we can avoid it."