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

This just became extremely relevant. Five doesn't answer his question, but it may be obvious that this is the first time he's heard of this particular ability. After weeks of searching, it's hard not to get his hopes up.

"Could you detect mine, before you saw it?"

Gilbert is quiet again.

Truthfully, he didn't ask Raven to check and Raven rarely disclosed things even when one might think it would be worth knowing. He's a lazy ass old crow who does what he wants.

"... Not really. You sense different to me than another person I met on the farm earlier, but I couldn't distinguish it as a power until you manifested it twice. The best I can tell is there is another person on the farm that is... similar to yours. Can't tell if it's your powers or your world, though."

Well fuck. That's too good of a guess to be a coincidence. -- He stares at the other man, trying to come to some sort of conclusion about him.

"My sister." No reason to hide that fact, when she'd probably offer it up to anyone who asked and he's made no secret of having family.

"There's four more of us, scattered around someplace." And it's his primary purpose to find them, but he tries to sound casual when he brings it up. The implication is clear enough.

"Someplace? Out of this world or in it?"

Gil is beginning to suspect this guy is looking for a hound dog to sniff his missing family members out. That's fine and all, but what is the reason he believes them all here instead of ... not? (He doesn't want to think on it, himself, because if Oz is actually out there somewhere, so help him—!)

"They're here." He sounds one-hundred percent positive. It isn't the first time they've been separated like this, and he doesn't trust that it wasn't by design.

"We were together, right before we used... a device to open a portal." He actually still has the briefcase with him, but it's broken and there's a slight possibility that tinkering with it could suck you through a hole in the fabric of space-time and wipe you from existence if you don't know what you're doing. Since finding his family takes priority over getting back, he's left it on the back burner.

"It's possible we landed at different times, but the place would be the same. I found my sister on the ship."

"A portal?"

Well, even if Five can't sense powers himself, he'll sense the sudden shift in the atmosphere, as if an invisible cloak has blanketed the area. The feeling of being watched is impossible to ignore. If there's is something indeed watching him, it feels like it's something quite menacing. ~~And large like a Trex.~~

"Hm... so she remembers the same?" Gilbert admits there isn't much flaw to such an explanation, whether it ultimately ends up to be true or not.

"So, you're saying you and your siblings went through a void portal to get to this world?"

That's hard not to notice, and he looks up and around them trying to locate the source. Is he doing that? Instead of addressing it, he frowns and settles back on Raven, suspicion in his gaze as he belatedly answers.

"She does." Thankfully no amnesia this time. His jaw clenches slightly, but he continues. "I've used them before, I know how they're supposed to work. This time obviously something happened and it didn't bring us to the right place."

The briefcases aren't like his natural abilities. The portals they make are instant. Predictable. They're designed to be, to leave as little footprint as possible on the timeline. Considering how much his siblings did that could alter history, he hasn't ruled out that they set a trap for them.

Gilbert doesn't seem to notice or give any hint if he is responsible.

He looks thoughtful, though, considering options. It's possible that the portal residue is what he has identified on Five and his sister rather than their powers. If it's enough like the Abyss... then it may be possible to recognize them without confusing them for the surrounding world and its powers.

"In that case, my colleague is better at hunting residuals, but I think it's possible I could sense them as long as they exist in the present. So if they arrived here in the future, it won't register until our timelines synchronize."

It's a hard guess, though. Meanwhile the feeling doesn't let up, but it doesn't enroach any further, either.

Five hasn't had many offers otherwise, and his diplomacy has been decidedly lacking, so he should take it as a good sign that he's found someone curious enough to look into it. After weeks of searching through his limited resources, he's getting desperate. Enough that he can try to ignore that strange feeling.

"What do you want in return?" He's made a fair amount of deals since he came here, so he assumes there's something.

Gilbert makes a slight face at the question. This wasn't really something he considered worth exchangeable terms because he was just going to alert this guy if he picked up anything.

Still, he knows that if he just does things for free, it will get out and he doesn't need to be taken advantage of. If he wants to help people out eventually once he's known them, then so be it.

Until then... "...If you find a blonde-haired kid about your age named Oz, you have to make it a priority to get him to me or me to him."

His frowns deepens around 'about your age' but he doesn't correct him. All he gets is a nod in response. As sure as he is that his siblings are here, he can't deny that anyone else might find connections. Already he's seen it happen with others on that ship. (He's choosing to ignore the idea that he's doing favors for him because he reminds him of some kid.)

It's only a few feet back to the stove, but he still blinks there and back to retrieve the water ready to pour. He busies himself with preparing the grounds and producing two cups, then looks up like he's about to ask about his technique.

"Is that you?" He'd have to expect him to make some comment about the change in the air around them. And if it isn't him, he'll need to identify the threat.

"Is what me?" Gilbert pauses before looks hard at the kitchen counter, seeking what he might be talking about. That feeling dissipates, butt not before there's a loud cream as if something massive is straining floorboards in every direction. Gil straightens up, looking annoyed before shifting to sigh in exasperation.

"Yes. That's me."

It's the simplest answer. It's not completely correct, however.

Edited 2021-06-02 17:02 (UTC)

That's what he thought. Followed by 'what the fuck' because... is that all he's going to say? He's definitely got a massive invisible elephant in the room, and as someone taking up temporary residence with them, that's concerning.

"Care to elaborate?"

"No," Gil responds matter-of-factly.

Why yes, that's all he's going to say. Were you expecting it to be that easy just because he went to get groceries for you?

He kind of did, after how compliant he's been up to this point. That and he was considerate enough to get a second cup. Five is clearly stretching the limits of his ability to socialize.

So far the man has potential, so he can let him get away with it. Doesn't keep him from the pointed silence that comes before he says anything else.

"Nothing I need to be concerned about, hm?" If it's something he can't control, that's something to be noted.

He taps his finger on the table and gestures to what he prepared. Hot water and grounds. With what he brought, he assumed the method he had in mind, but he decides suddenly that he should get a proper test.

"Well. Are you going to show me how you'd do it?"

Five will be happy to know that Gil absolutely can control it, but not quite so much when the chain wants to check out magically sensitive people because, unlike back in their homeworlds, there is no Abyss for the chain to reside in. Five will figure out eventually what it is, one way or another. It's spooky and intimidating but not dangerous.

Gilbert seems to snap out of his sudden standoffish mode at Five's topic change. Without a word he moves to the counter to take a look before asking: "First, do you happen to have any way to monitor the temperature of the water? There's nothing like that in this world from what I saw in the Citadel."

Meanwhile, he goes to get the cheesecloth out of the bag.

Edited 2021-06-02 21:16 (UTC)

He can see how quickly he latches onto the change of subject, but doesn't comment. Everyone here has something about them, and not all of their abilities are as obvious as Five's teleporting. Something to keep an eye on.

It actually sounds like he knows what he's doing with the coffee at least.

"I can check, but if you didn't see it in the market, I doubt we'll find anything in this old farmhouse." He's not expecting to find anything, but he does make a show of looking through cabinets he's already been through without remembering coming across anything of the sort.

To be honest, Five doesn't mind too much about being further back in time as much as the other plethora of problems this place brings. Looking like he does isn't as much of an issue, for instance, and he's survived decades on less than they have here. But he can admit to one vice that was surprisingly hard enough to find even in more modern times. If this experiment with Raven goes well, he's willing to pay his way for the entire trip just to supply him with caffeine along the way.

When he turns up nothing, he sighs and shakes his head. "I'm surprised they even have a functioning stove. Who knows how long this place has been abandoned."

"All right, let's get this water to a rolling boil first. I'll just wing it."

Back on the stove the water goes, Five.

If he'd jumped in sooner they could have saved some time, but fine. Five takes a seat, in an actual chair, and lets him take care of it.

He glances over with mild interest, but otherwise takes a break from small talk. Instead he takes for the notebook he brought in with the supplies to examine. Considering his last one was falling apart, this is... convenient. Like everything about this guy.

Gilbert welcomes the silence, keep his attention on other things while waiting for the water to return to a boil. In the meantime, Gilbert works to fold the cheese cloth a few times to strengthen the filtering effect while still keeping it long enough that he can hold it steady.

He returns to water boiling away and takes it off the stove, setting it down and properly setting up the cheesecloth once more over the cup. "Quickly, do you want strong coffee?" It's not an attempt to make conversation. There's only a small time window, and he's putting the coffee grains on the cloth as he asks.

By the time he returns Five has already taken a pen out to scribble in the first pages of the notebook, having wasted enough time chitchatting. He stops abruptly and very nearly smiles when he asks him that question. And some people think he's hard to please.

"The stronger the better." No sarcastic quip or anything. Raven has built it up enough that he has moderately high expectations of this not being terrible.

Gilbert simply nods, adding some extra coffee grains before he's pouring the water over them within a minute of the water coming off the stove. He is very mindful of the filtering drip, pouring at just the right speed to not overwhelm the cloth but also not let the flow be interrupted. He fills one cup and then is switching the cheesecloth over to the other cup and doing the same method. Once both cups are filled he moves to set the cloth down in the sink and bring the first cup over to Five.

"Try it."

You're gonna love this damn coffee, Five.

He watches the whole production and the care he seems to take in pouring. Whoever he is, and whatever secrets he's keeping, there are certain skills that can make him overlook a hell of a lot. Being aware of that should remind him to be careful, but he can't bring himself to bother when he finishes.

At his prompting, he takes a sip, paying no mind to how hot it is. And wouldn't you know it... it's not half bad. More mellow than he expected and slightly sweet. A bit of a nutty undertone, but definitely not horrible considering they're trapped a frozen shit hole overrun with the undead. Now he regrets not making more of an effort to scour the market. It's not like he (personally) is hurting for coin.

"Hm." The sound of approval. He takes a larger drink and bobs his head. Considers. "I think we found you another job."

Gil can't help but smile at that because it's always good when someone appreciates your efforts in however way possible.

"Yeah, sure," he replies, he doesn't mind. Gives him something to do that isn't aimlessly wandering around.

"It's mostly just about temperature and what beans you are pulling flavor from. Hopefully there are better things on the road ahead. Maybe they'll even roast the beans how you like on request."

Unlike most people around here, he's able to compensate him for it. Money hasn't ever mattered to him, but that doesn't mean he doesn't understand the concept. As it is, he's pleased with this general agreement. Maybe he'll actually have made one deal worth his trouble.

And having someone who knows enough about what to look for, with the added bonus of not having to speak to merchants directly, well. That's better luck than he's had in a while. It earns him a wider smile.

"Sounds good. Report back what you find." Were you expecting more conversation? Because immediately after saying that he's going to go back to his notes while he sits back and enjoys his coffee.

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out you go, shoo

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