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westwhere2022-06-22 08:42 pm
groundrules) wrote in westwhere2022-06-22 08:42 pm
the sunken
THE SUNKEN
The silent, dark, opaque seas briefly clear for a short stretch, as the Pariah and Queen Zanyra advance into the Crossing.Below sleeps a graveyard of sunken ships in various states of decay — including the beautifully preserved Vernalis.
Sailors say she was the crown jewel of an army fleet and the fear of every sea she traversed, sinking at least three pirate ships. One day, she disappeared. Caladan Kreil, who met and survived the Vernalis in battle, swears her leader Oscar Santorini was a spartan rule abider who would never have neglected the dutiful upkeeping of his captain’s logs.
A school of vicious mermaids has briefly blocked the paths of the Pariah and Queen Zanyra, orbiting around the sunken ships below. They will dispel naturally, sailors say, when the tides turn within three days. Until then, the ships only make slow advance — and Caladan Kreil sees an opportunity to settle one of the sea’s deepest mysteries.
✘ OBJECTIVE: search the Vernalis’ captain’s cabin for his logs.
■ Characters who accept Caladan’s mission are lowered down in lifeboats and supplied pale skin-tight suits that are membrane-thin, adhesive and transparent. They settle comfortably once the wearer hits water, feeling weightless and emanating light signals — red for danger or injury, white for alert or fear, yellow to broadcast the wearer must return to land, and a calm greenish-blue otherwise.
■ The suits protect wearers from temperature and pressure drops and enable them to fully breathe underwater for four hours at a time. Suits must dry for at least two hours between uses.
■ Suit lights are visible underwater. The green light does not attract other sea creatures, but the red and white lights repel nearby marine life, except for mermaids.
■ You can magically speak and be understood underwater, although in a short range, as sound carries with more difficulty here.
■ Mermaids patrol near the Queen Zanyra and Pariah and swarm the wrecks of the sunken ships below, including the Vernalis. Many lair up in the hulls or raided cabins of the downed vessels.
■ To safely enter the waters, spill a little blood on a bait or make a lure out of fish entrails, toss it, then dive when the mermaids give chase. Alternatively, wait until the midday sun is at zenith and the sirens have been lulled listless or asleep for an hour.
■ Careful: swift, sharp-toothed and long-clawed, mermaids have an exceptional sense of smell and will pursue anyone who scrapes or bleeds beneath water. Although not entirely blind, many have a diffused vision and respond quicker to sound than to sight.
■ The mermaids are largely starved and reactive. Some help guide strangers, if they are offered food or help from natural predators, such as sharks, unfriendly large octopuses and strange tendrils of dark water that appear more prominently, the deeper you sink down. Bring a knife.
■ The Vernalis sits about one-hour’s dive beneath water. It seems to have been caught in a net of dark coral-like matter, without reaching the ocean’s floor. Beware the tendrils of this strange ‘plant’: those trapped within will find their energy gradually depleted. Some of the strings of corals have snagged pieces of preserved parchment or cloth, littered with the names of sailors or the verses of sea chants.
■ Those who reach the Vernalis may notice the ship has only been deceptive preserved — many doors, hinges and pieces of furniture have rotted from within, threatening to collapse upon wanderers. All mirrors, pieces of glass and reflective or metallic surfaces have darkened and become opaque.
■ Those who enter the cabin or hull of the Vernalis will find the quarters eerily silent, but for a methodical, rhythmic pulse — like the drumming of an unnatural, but living heartbeat. Time passes much faster here — keep track that your costume doesn’t flash yellow, and help swim up with those who can no longer transport themselves.
■ The Vernalis affects visitors differently: some are entirely immune, others are overcome by a deep, animal and inexplicable and paralysing fear, or by the urgent wish to flee. Others still feel sluggish, lost and comfortable, for the first time in years, starting to fall in a deep, unstirring sleep (that breaks once they return to surface).
■ Searching the cabins will reveal there are no bodies or bones aboard the Vernalis. The door of the captain’s cabin locks after each entry, both in and out, and must be heavily forced open — once inside, rummage through Oscar Santorini’s wealth of books and correspondence to recover some of the loose pages of his torn captain’s log, then return with your discoveries on land. Drop a thread link with your characters’ good work to receive a summary of the contents of the page they’ve uncovered.
PLOTTING
no subject
Of course, he may be mistaken.
But then, the shark majestically rolls over halfway, until it appears to drift on its side, as if neither gravity, nor the currents, nor common sense can prevail upon it to resume the motor functions that do credit to its biology.
A school of rattled fish swarms, seemingly troubled that the shark might have fallen into catatonia. It shivers a fin in their direction, either urging them to scatter, or to push it over. They flee, perturbed.
Lan Wangji, astounded, drags a hand to shield his mouth from the temptations of vocal horror. )
...perhaps. ( He could sound less dubious, if he made attempt. )
no subject
As long as it's not attacking us, who cares.
no subject
The failure of one reverberates in a community. For all that animals lack accountability, the inability to perform their role — to kill, to diminish the numbers of complacent fish in the depths, retaining them listless and unafraid — impacts more than the existence of one. )
The waters suffer without a choice predator. ( All should care. For, by the heavens that do not reach down their light, this shark is... no pride of its species. )
no subject
Nah, there are enough others around. I'm just assuming. At least the mermaids seem to need hiding from predators, so I'm pretty sure we're good here.
no subject
If not for its stubborn persistence beside them, Lan Wangji might speculate it's on its algae-braided death's bed, but no, the creature continues on, fins flapping mightily as it... drifts... by, mouth partly agape.
Fish wander in, then out. Those who snag against teeth become an accidental, foolish dinner. Perhaps this is how the shark thrives and survives, through a series of distinct and bizarre accidents.
Lan Wangji feels overcome with a warmth of sentiment best described as 'embarrassed kindness.' But they have an assignment here that surpasses cheap sympathy, and he starts to swim behind the coral's curtain, movements syncopate. )
Let us seize the ship. The... ( Most pathetic sea shark known to man and monster. ) Creature will not pursue.
no subject
But yes. Much as this is fascinating (and it is, really), they do have a mission. Eda nods. ]
Let's dive, then!
no subject
...and as no creature should, ideally, ever know it.
But it strides onwards and, Lan Wangji, bereft of opportunity to gently steer it towards a righteous path, only surrenders to sinking down. Pressure rakes his temples, seizes and clenches tight. Past a threshold, he knows, the mind will stay willing, but the body will oppose a deeper dive.
He moderates his breathing, as if the suit yet required his cooperation, and simply thins his gaze to a fine line, when the darkness of the sea's depths spread rich around him, and he is inured to the diminished visibility.
He sees it, scattered before the ship — coral, braided, rot-black and inquisitive. Waving in water, gentle but somehow... remiss. A strange thrum of wicked hunger within it. )
Caution. ( He cannot say why he urges it, only that it resonates in him, a warning crystalline and clear. )
no subject
The coral net catches her attention, though, and swims toward it, despite her companion's warning, for closer inspection. There seems to something caught in the web -- small pieces of paper. ]
Hey, I think there's something written on here.
no subject
Between them, Eda spies the miscreant pieces of parchment first. Once the first reveal itself, it seems to have stirred a cascade of tens, hundreds more, scattered like stabbed banners on their coral perches.
Caution, he had said, but finds his hand reaching, his teeth gritted, his core prepared — and he flinches, when licks of the coral's strength prickle him, electric, eating of his energy.
A name, is all he glimpses. He sends on piece of parchment Eda's way, then another, a third — and withdraws completely from the plant, before it may maul his energy once more. )
It seeks to sap strength. ( The audacity. )
no subject
Yeah, I feel it.
[ She inspects her little loot. ]
Hmmm. This one seems... like a poem? Song? Sea shanty?
no subject
At last, the pulse of his suit, briefly bled close to red, settled into jade. Equilibrium, if not health. He chooses this will suffice him.
He shutters his eyes for a moment, and thinks, thinks, thinks, A song, verse, what difference beneath water? A lullaby? To appease what? All sleep already. A song of ruin? Water stifles melody —
But he does not benefit from the time to investigate that train of thought.
No, for before them, at a dwindling distance, interrupting this great exploration with its sad, pathetic form is the approaching, jarring visage of the formidable fumbling fool —
That shark. )
...perhaps we should retire.
no subject
... a gleam lights in Eda's eye. ]
Wait. I got an idea.
[ She takes a fish out of her bag and throws it through the coral netting, near where the shark is drifting. ]