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westwhere2022-08-13 03:17 pm
groundrules) wrote in westwhere2022-08-13 03:17 pm
Entry tags:
- 2ha: chu wanning,
- arc iv,
- asoiaf: daenerys targaryen,
- baldur's gate: astarion,
- doctor who: river song,
- doctor who: the doctor,
- game of thrones: jon snow,
- kingdom of the wicked: emilia,
- kingdom of the wicked: wrath,
- legend of fei: xie yun,
- legend of fei: zhou fei,
- mo dao zu shi: xiao xingchen,
- oh! my emperor: beitang moran,
- oh! my emperor: su xunxian,
- original: red,
- owl house: eda clawthorne,
- penny dreadful: vanessa ives,
- serthica,
- shadowhunters: magnus bane,
- star trek: jim kirk (aos),
- star trek: leonard mccoy (aos),
- star trek: una,
- star wars: finn,
- the gifted: marcos diaz,
- tian guan ci fu: xie lian,
- touken ranbu: kanesada,
- umbrella academy: allison,
- umbrella academy: five,
- warcraft: anduin wrynn,
- warcraft: wrathion,
- word of honor: zhou zishu
serthica: war & peace
Clockwork Serthica’s arrival event stretches til around 3 September. You’re welcome to hit up this log or make your own entries. Characters not assigned to a region can still access it, as long as they’re discreet.
Please share cool plot clues via network — and have fun!
SUMMARY: The Merchant assigns the group to determine if the dead lurk within Serthica’s adversarial halves. Eidris and Minaras hold a summit to normalise trade within Serthica’s elusive Neutral Zone — while a resistance movements attempts to capture Minaras lead figure Arabella. In Eidris, locals must calm a maddened dragon and her cohort and retrieve her hatching eggs. Minaras hosts its eerie civic indoctrination that seeks to extirpate physical and moral decay.
FAIR FORTUNE
The party at sea is smuggled into Serthica with help from false passport papers secured by their Mouse House companions. The two groups meet at Serthica’s port customs, in time for the Merchant’s private transmission:
”Good afternoon. I salute and thank the efforts of our recent additions. You performed exceptionally.
You will hear Serthica is sundered by war, sickness and irreconcilable differences. In truth, she is likely divided by the interests of those who weaponise fear and manipulate opportunity.
In Eidris, they claim Minaraians are not human. In Minaras, they speak the same of Eidris. Disgust, dismay and paranoia have created a… system of profound physical avoidance. If this is mere fearmongering, it is distasteful, but inconsequential. However… if one of the citadel’s halves has succumbed to the dead, who now know to feign they yet live… this marks a dire escalation. You must study this.
Your transportation beacon sleeps in the holy grounds of Vassarizhia. It will light within months, when the Heart’s clock quiets for its annual winding. You may visit the grounds during the upcoming trade summit.
While in Serthica, your only objectives are to survive until the beacon’s eye opens, and to discover the dead present. I pray but question you will prevail.”
You will hear Serthica is sundered by war, sickness and irreconcilable differences. In truth, she is likely divided by the interests of those who weaponise fear and manipulate opportunity.
In Eidris, they claim Minaraians are not human. In Minaras, they speak the same of Eidris. Disgust, dismay and paranoia have created a… system of profound physical avoidance. If this is mere fearmongering, it is distasteful, but inconsequential. However… if one of the citadel’s halves has succumbed to the dead, who now know to feign they yet live… this marks a dire escalation. You must study this.
Your transportation beacon sleeps in the holy grounds of Vassarizhia. It will light within months, when the Heart’s clock quiets for its annual winding. You may visit the grounds during the upcoming trade summit.
While in Serthica, your only objectives are to survive until the beacon’s eye opens, and to discover the dead present. I pray but question you will prevail.”
SWITZERLAND
After a lengthy inspection of their passport papers, the party is steered towards the Sanctuary of Serthica’s Neutral Zone — a vast institute near Serthica’s great clock tower. Here, representatives of Eidris and Minaras assemble at midday for peaceful negotiations to improve distant trade relations.
- ■ The Merchant recommends mingling to broaden your investigation into Serthica’s dead. Even Minaras leading figurehead Arabella will attend.
■ For peace-keeping, entrants to the Sanctuary must surrender their weapons or allow them to be sealed, if they want to carry them in. Weapons are released on departure. Physical enhancements that characters cannot remove (ex: vampire fangs) are excepted.
■ Those who are unwilling to give up or seal their weapons can head on to Eidris and Minaras.
■ Summit attendants receive badges reflecting their Serthica identities, or can divert the greeting droid and liberate the insignia of a delayed delegation. Higher-ranking badges earns you more lenient treatment and higher security clearance.
■ Eidris attendants receive golden armbands or scarves, those of Minaras dark blue.
■ In bustling halls, officials negotiate grain exchanges, new train railways, the currency exchange rate and the saddening conditions of Mouse House exiles. Alas, if only someone (not them) could help.
■ Those drafted into the talks are toasted with a green, mint-like potion — an unadvertised truth serum intended to keep negotiations honest. The potion’s effects last two to four hours, compelling truth but not speech. But do talk: candour wins answers.
■ Artisans display their finest novelty items in the main reception hall. Aggressively enthusiastic traders seek testers and investors for their wares — potent opiates, goggles that show you the world in 10 years’ time, even detailed plans for luxury teahouses offering droid companionship. Extricate yourself with as much coin and dignity as possible.
SLEEP, CHILD, SLEEP
- ■ The great clock of the Neutral Zone strikes 18:00, triggering a light three-minute earthquake and the rise of nocturnal Minaras.
■ The Sanctuary loses all electric power. As servants rush for candles, you might notice some native summit delegates behave peculiarly: their eyes look glassy, faces trapped in an expression of comical, exaggerated dismay. Many are frozen in tense positions. Others move in sluggish, uncoordinated and jerky spasms. One might catch your wrist and attempt to speak in staggered, guttural croaks.
■ Lights return once the earthquake finishes. Locals resume regularly and do not seem to have noticed any erratic behaviour.
SLEEP, CHILD, SLEEP
CONTENT WARNING: TERROR ATTACK
- ■ Starting her speech, Arabella of Minaras calls a tribute for those lost to the great Culling sickness that struck Serthica mere years before. The vigil is interrupted by a fusillade of rifle shots fired from outside, through the Sanctuary’s wall-long windows.
■ The bullets exclusively target Minaras delegates and do not contain gunpowder, but a thickened, pale liquid. Once shot, those wounded experience a hysterical, incontrollable terror and the certainty that their greatest fear is hunting them. Many of the shot delegates develop an instant flight response and seek to claw their way out of the Sanctuary, with no care for whom they trample in their path. This terror lasts 30-60 minutes. Please content warn if you graphically describe your character’s greatest fear.
■ As rifle gunshots die down, a voice from outside introduces the Remembrance coalition, pledging safety if the summit surrenders Arabella.
■ The Sanctuary activates emergency measures: protective magical wards start to slowly reinforce, while attendants risk their lives to return characters’ weapons.
■ You could team up and help Arabella’s few remaining guards to escort her to safety in Minaras. Drop a line if you take this route.
■ Outside, you find the Sanctuary’s grounds have been drenched in a thick fog that barely allows you to see steps ahead. Your senses dull, and you are gradually prone to sleep — while masked men close in with rifles and vicious droid hunting hounds.
■ Help Sanctuary guards take out the assailants — and submit your character for a RNG draw to interrogate a lone captive.
■ Characters who later investigate the Sanctuary can find some of its windows have been very carefully pricked, fissured or even minutely holed, easing the way for attack.
Crawl back to your home base in Eidris or Minaras — you need the beauty sleep.
EIDRIS | THERE BE DRAGONS
Eidris’s relaxed atmosphere might balm your rattled nerves after the Sanctuary’s disasters. Startled citizens gather to offer you help settling in, while dragons seek you out to curl up and nuzzle.
Eidris is governed by natural order and harmony, achieved through firm etiquette, consideration and reminders to slow down. You can hole up in a room in one of the many abandoned and repurposed villas, or group up to take a whole house. Local technology is a blend of mechanical gears and magic that substitutes fuels. Sorcerers are frequent, boastful and admired.
Dig deeper, and you’ll find the people of Eidris are unwilling to linger on negative experiences and gradually lose memory of them. If queried, many natives have normalised intermittent amnesia, with some using their link to their dragons to stay anchored in the present.
- ■ Acclimate to your roles in Eidris and enjoy the sweet welcome of neighbourly gifted meals and knitwear and a personal, signed letter of support from king Thivar.
■ Eidris prepares for the rare hatching of dragon eggs, lain by the beautiful fire-breathing Aiva — one of the fewer martial dragons used by Eidris’ military. Two weeks into your stay (around 25 August, forward date at will), word spreads that Aiva’s mate has been deeply injured by a Minaras scouting ship during the 6:00-7:00 overlap period when the two citadel halves are both overground.
■ A panicked, distrustful Aiva collects her silver-shelled eggs from the formal nest quarters, hiding them on the rooftops or in the balconies of tall, dangerous buildings. Several other martial dragons assist Aiva by guarding these hideaways until the young dragons can hatch.
■ Eidris calls back most transport dragons to avoid altercation with their fire-breathing, paranoid brethren. This might strand some riders on the nearest decrepit rooftop, while testy dragons fly by. They don’t initiate attack, but are more prone to warning tail sweeps or light charring, if you come close.
■ Dragon lord Cain d’Ubiq urges riders that can reconnect with their dragons to help retrieve the 1m, 50-kg eggs and deliver them back to the dragon grounds nest before they hatch by sundown — terrorising the baby dragons that wake alone and ripping into local architecture. Other riders are needed to spread a trail of deep incense smoke in the air that can soothe dragons from their outburst. Lend a hand!
■ Characters who enlisted for dragon riding on arrival could be middling riders by this point.
■ Aiva’s children hatch moments before the clock ticks 18:00 and Minaras also surges overground. Characters linked to a dragon feel the birth: first as an overwhelming exuberance, then as an all-consuming and irrational dread that briefly reduces them to inexplicable tears.
MINARAS | EYES ON YOU
A sharp departure from Eidris’ laissez-faire is watchful Minaras, where citizens obsess with schedules, orderliness and time — as if every second is both borrowed and wasted.
Newcomers can choose between one-person 2.5x2.5m ‘sleep units’ in packed industrial homes, or pool funds to rent small refurbished alcoves that once served as hospital or science halls. Space is a luxury, silence a myth: helper droids constantly fuss after their masters, steam engines cough outside, and the gentle thrum on the streets betrays the current-shifting omnipresence of large Watch ships.
Civic sound systems periodically bleat reminders for citizens to STAY HALE, STAY WHOLE, alongside tips for basic droid care, the latest in scientific discoveries, paid ads and reminders not to park your robotic carriage near hydrants.
- ■ Quickly learn the ropes of your assumed identity, as Minaraians have a duty to report peculiar behaviours.
■ Watch ships prevent lawbreaking while Minaras is overground. Crime rates spike rapidly when Minaras falls underground.
■ More than violence, Minaraians appear to fear their pocket watch times being wrong, filth and sickness. The smallest cough earns a stern glance and a wide berth.
■ As part of Minaras’ periodic social indoctrination, you are robotically escorted alongside your peers and other unrelated Minaraians to a civic integration centre. Here, you take turns before a mechanical droid sphinx labelled ASCLEPIOS that asks, ”What rots you? and compels an honest answer (this can be emotional, mental or physical sickness, minor or severe).
■ A painless tattoo appears on the back of your hand, listing your Decay (ex: ‘malnourishment,’ ‘a choleric temper’). Others in the indoctrination centre must help you mend through acts of care (ex: cooking you a meal, helping you meditate). The tattoo fades after 72 hours, or once sufficient acts of care have ‘cured’ you.
■ After one week (around 20 August, but feel free to forward date), a transmission from Arabella informs watch, aerial, military and health units that Minaras is changing the daily schedule of its scout ships. The last scouts will now be deployed at 4:15am and return to base by 5:00am.
Beitang Moran || Minaras
[Moran wouldn't be Moran if he did wish to put his fingers on the metaphorical political pulse of a city as soon as they arrive.
He has no qualms about surrendering his sword - in a pinch, he can more than defend himself with his bare hands, and no one seems to consider his hairpin a weapon. And once inside, he quickly makes the rounds with an ear to the ground.]
... This happens daily? So there is a still a lot of contact between the two cities, even with their sundered state.
[When given the potion, he hesitates only a second before drinking it, because he truly wants to get inside and listen to what is going on here.
If you want him to be truthful, now is your chance.]
II.SLEEP, CHILD, SLEEP
[Moran barely has the time to wonder at the strange haze that seizes people before bullets start flying.
He manages to remain mostly unscathed, but witnesses the strange terrors of some others, and he does get pushed out of the way by someone in the grips of such and bumps against a wall quite heard, leaving him dazed for a second or two while finding his bearings.
Still without more knowledge of the situation and the locals clearly taken at unawares, there's only one logical solution.]
We need to the get the Lady Arabella out of here. A coup on our first day is far from ideal, and we've done that already.
III.MINARAS
a. accommodation [network]
[Two days in the shared accommodation and Moran is about ready to tear his hair out. it's lucky he doesn't require much sleep. What he needs, though, is peace and quiet to hear himself think. It's bad enough that after 48 hours, he'll send a cry for help on the network.]
Would anyone be willing to pool resources for slightly more private accommodation? I fear I may murder someone if not.
b. daily life
[Moran is actually doing his fake job, because, as it happens, he knows exactly how to do it and it allows him to spend time with some of the political elite of the city. So on any day, he can easily be found on his way to the House of Sigil or on the way back, usually with a droid in tow carrying mounds of books and papers.
After a few days, the droid gets dressed up with a wig and robes, because while he's used to being stared at, people are being annoyingly embarrassed about this when he himself isn't.]
c. What rots you?
[The question is honestly... weird. But the place's obsessions with staying healthy might explain it. Still, truthful as he has to be, Moran ends up with a tattoo that says 'too much or too little knowledge'.
.... Good luck with that, to whoever wants to help with this.]
IV.WILD CARD
[Hit me up!]
wildcard to the summit
Battles are always, however, the same sort of chaos, and he's lived in this kind, in ambushes and assassinations on roadsides and cities alike, to be primed to move. The target, the female, the woman: she of the city he found his false identity tied to, and there, a direction.
The better bet, the higher rewards, in defending her. He shifts forward, twisting around and scanning for a weapon only to find an older man's cane in reaching distance. Licyn snatches it up with a low sweep down at the legs of one would-be assassin, distracted from shooting him by their desire to instead shoot at one of the bodies closer to their target, to the woman they want dead.
They go down hard, and he brings the head of the cane smashing down into the hand holding the unfamiliar weapon. A metal projectile weapon of some kind, but the feel of it carries a muted sense of the skin-crawling sensation of magic, and he grimaces, kicking the weapon away and elbowing a panicked woman in the ribs to move her out of his way forward.
Step in step, and one of the faces familiar from months on ship is there, the name flittering away as unimportant in the moment.
"Escort?" He asks, lips curled up at the corner as if to negate the grim line they're otherwise pressed into, the hint of teeth he isn't choosing to bear. He tosses the cane up, the heavy metal of it a welcome weight in hand, and keeps moving even as he gestures towards the leader (her name, too, what was it, Aria, no, Ara, Arabella).
More shots fired, going wide, more screams, pain and fear that builds and builds and builds and invades his nose until he sneezes with it, while smacking the cane into the back of the head of another representative of the city he has no loyalty for, bought or otherwise. The panic taking them over is cut short with the arrival of their sudden unconscious state.
no subject
When are they not? Titans, it seems like everywhere they go chaos breaks out and it's an increasingly obvious pattern.
It's irritating.
He does, however, have the same idea as Licyn. The best bet for a good connection here is Arabella, who is the representative of his current assignment. Unfortunately, Wrathion's cover story doesn't fit being someone who can brawl his way out.
He grits his teeth, ears ringing, and begins to move his way across the room in short darts before he arrives beside them. One quick glance between Licyn and Moran (play along, play along).
"This madness is intolerable," he says to Arabella. "We must get you to safety! You --" A glance to Licyn that feigns irritation and confusion over who he is. "Do you have any combat skill? We need more guards here." He turns in irritation, snaps his fingers towards some and waves them over before turning to Arabella. "I have a place not far from here, if you require shelter, it is well secured and we can organise transport. Please --" She demurs and, he hesitates just long to show he was considering insisting before turning to the others. "Then if you have somewhere to go we must get you there safely and --" The sound of more gunfire, and Wrathion ducks in slightly exaggerated alarm. "-- As soon as possible. Quickly, to the exit!"
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"They're only shooting at people that are distinctively wearing signs from Minaras. I do not think the lady and her guards can easily conceal themselves, but it might be a good idea for us to minimize exposure at the very least."
Give him a second to survey the area, he didn't really do it with an eye to escape earlier.
"Is there any other entrance than the main one towards Minaras? the place appears to be surrounded, and they'll have their pick of us if we just go through."
Just then, someone rushes to Moran and hands him his sword.
"... Well, that will come in useful. Now, cover, and a route of escape."
no subject
Going off, too, the bullet and its pervasive fear acrid in his nostrils when it lazily leaps past, smacking into another closeby.
"Tolerable levels," he says dryly, leaving his visible mark on only long enough to pull up next to one of the guards, meeting her gaze. "Have an eye for steel and its handling."
His torn armband floats down after a toss, and he shifts to Moran's side as... he continues to have no access to his proper sword. The attendants rushing to find owners and weapons in a bizarre sort of village dance are as caught up in the fear and the panic that seeps in from all sides, and he shoves forward, a hand planting in Wrathion's back to urge the 'rich bossy one' forward toward said exit.
Or toward what the guards appeared to believe was one, even as they were all now in motion, the cacophony of chaos all around them continuing, glass breaking to their left.
no subject
"Walk along the wall low to the ground, under the level of the windows. That's half the fire avoided."
He almost stabs through the figure running towards them screaming before he realizes it's just a citizen with a blue armband and he switches to the flat of his blade to knock them out.
"... What are these weapons? I don't think they've actually killed anyone, but look at those people..."
no subject
"This isn't a physical weapon, whoever these people are, they're attacking minds."
He pulls one of the guards down and shoves her forward, so that they're all scuttling below window level, Arabella tucked in the middle, shots flying at arrow speeds overhead. There's a fog rolling in he can smell, and it's not quite right either, another itch under his skin, but what can he say?
There's searing magic everywhere at the moment, he doesn't know if anything's new or if he's running on nerves.
"Out the side door, blockade it behind us—oh for thunder's sake," he starts, then tucks into a roll to take out another of those people armed with the strange guns, leaving them sprawled on the floor and a good, checked punch to the head knocking out the assailant. A shot near takes him in the arm, his reflexes to movement a saving grace, because the sound follows after the projectile's already passed.
Like the twang of a bowstring after the arrow's already loosed.
"Get her out, now!"
no subject
People are still being hit with something... But now is not the time for conjectures. Moran, at least, can't feel the magic in the air, so he's unbothered by anything but the physical aspect of what's going on.
Upon Licyn's quick action and words, Moran turns to the guards.
"Get that door open! Break the bottom panel and go through there! And once you're out, go immediately to safety and do not turn back under any circumstances!"
This spurs them into action again - Moran has that kind of voice that seems to naturally give orders people rush to obey. He and Licyn can cover them.
no subject
Licyn darts forward, covering Moran's side when something metallic and four legged drops down in front of them both: a canine? His lips pull back from his teeth as it faces off against both of them, bereft of its clockwork's tender.
"Joints," he says, "Metal or not, the searing thing'll need functioning joints to move!"
no subject
There's a yelp that sounds entirely too animal, and a sound that sounds entirely too metallic to have sliced through any flesh.
"I hope that smoke isn't toxic, or we're done for."
no subject
There's another shot, closer range, but the bullet goes overhead, and the guards hustle forward while Licyn falls in side by side with Moran.
"These things will push past just two of us, we need to get them out of this alley. Come on!"
no subject
Did he answer a sarcastic question in the most straightforward way possible? Yes, he did, stress does stuff to people, and while he can fight rather competently, he doesn't particularly enjoy it.
But when Licyn mentions getting people out of the alley, he kicks his heel and... well, executes a rather impressive flying jump over the heads of the people pressing in on them, which distracts them into looking for him behind their backs.
no subject
Licyn slips forward and kicks at the back of one knee for Moran's opponents, aiming to head past and deal with another incoming mechanical hound.
(no subject)
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Switzerland
[ Yet again, they have been assigned to opposing factions, and an easy chance to be close without having to deal with too much bother.
And, once he has found Moran here, he is staying close as much as possible. ]
no subject
[They always do, after all.]
I'm glad you're here with me, Xunxian.
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[ And of course he is here, it was only a matter of time. His own joy is clear, too, alongside the curiosity. There is much to see here, and as everywhere, he is certain they will have to make choices before they know enough. ]
How do you find the accommodations? On a scale from, hmm, the farm to Taravast.
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[They at least had some privacy there.]
These collective living areas might be good for whatever paranoia they have going on, but it's noisy, smelly and all around insufferable.
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[ He is just saying. Rest is not entirely out of reach. ]
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[And while it would be lovely to have a moment to just luxuriate with Xunxian, this could be a concern.]
The surveillance is quite tight. My mother would be admirative.
no subject
I see. I will look into it, then. There must certainly be ways.
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[And then he's just going to... grab Xunxian's hand, and keep holding it while walking between stalls. This reminds him of younger forays in the markets of Huangdao's capital.]
no subject
He squeezes Moran's fingers slightly. ]
Cramped quarters aside, is there anything you need?
no subject
[What else does he need, really? And their latest adventures haven't been kind in that regards, they keep being pulled apart, which is very unfair.]
I just need to make sure not to murder any of my neighbors.
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[A small squeeze of Xunxian's hand.]
I'll survive. This little trip has bene ordeal after ordeal and privacy is just not a thing. It's not like it's the first time in my life.