hale and whole

[groundrules]

HALE AND WHOLE

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BEHIND YOU | MAGICAL SERIES OF EVENTS | THE SCENIC SCIENCE ROUTE | SPREAD YOUR JOY

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Talismans burned, Serthica’s undeath reveals itself:

■ The dragon eye allows indefinite access to the undeath-sight pendant feature. Use it 15 minutes at a time, with a 45-minute cooldown.

■ Those who delivered talismans or the eye have residual immunity: they cannot be sensed by mannequins or by undead linked to the curse-sickness. This is transferrable once.

The Merchant presents the Serthica findings, recommending evacuation. Outvoted, he agrees to sponsor the group until the beacon’s annual start-up. To heal Serthica, the party must destroy the magical anchors of the curse-sickness, develop its science/herbal cure, then distribute it across the overground citadels.

BEHIND YOU

Courtesy of Five Hargreeves, the Child of the Unwinding you slayed his father, the undead lord Beastmaster. The burlap mannequins released from Remembrance actively hunt you.

■ They are constantly watching, stalking, hunting. You always hear the deep asynchrony of their footsteps. Some mannequins bear an uncanny human likeness: staring extensively chills you.

■ Most mannequins cover up in excess clothing and swarm you in crowded spaces to stab. They borrow your appearance, if they touch you. Some devolve into eldritch forms, mimicking voices or puppeteering husked corpses to lure you.

■ Each mannequin has a one-word code on its nape or right calf — once spoken, the creature glitches, letting you run.

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A MAGICAL SEQUENCE OF EVENTS

The corrosive magic that spreads throughout Serthica is anchored in two areas: a port dock and a former Mouse House shelter. Cleanse it through exorcism, purification, healing spells, or by planting wards borrowed from Karsa.

This magic feels hot, asphyxiating, aggressively proliferating, intrusive. Uncontained, it gradually feeds off your power. It might drive you to anger, bitterness, doubt or violence.

To Arc III survivors, it feels like the overwhelming power native to the Ke-Sanwon volcano (not dark water).

■ Once you’ve destroyed both magical anchors, inhuman-looking mannequins deactivate. Human-presenting ones seem sluggish and inattentive.

■ Finn’s mannequin remains alive when supplied life or magical force (think 5% of someone’s reserves) — either through weekly transfers or a rewiring of the magic that sustains her (by a party magic user, or Finn can learn the skills in later travel.)

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✘ WET OF THE DOCK'S WET

At first, locals don’t remember the putrid inactive dock exists as a distant extension of Serthica’s port, located past a familiar deserted marketplace. Here, rotten wood, a stench of perpetual moulding, torn ropes and rusted chains.

■ Thinking extensively about the dock before finding it incurs nausea, vertigo and the animal instinct to flee.

■ Persist, and you learn this dock was once used to smuggle in illegal arrivals from Ke-Waihu. Later, it loaded the bodies of the plagued that were burned at sea.

■ Rotten wood planks can break, dropping you into paralysing waters. The dead might reach out from the depths to drag you in.

■ You hear alluring, wind-born whispers of, How chilly it is, while the cold abruptly intensifies, and, It’s warm in the waters.. Won’t you… jump in?

■ Ships no longer call here — yet a small boat stops for you. You might feel compelled or curious to join the lone passenger — a man in white, whose features you forget after. As the boat drifts, attracting the swimming undead that seek to climb in, the man offers safe return, if you answer: What do you most want? Where would you stop to obtain it? Lie, and the boat capsizes, leaving you to swim back amid undead. Answer honestly to return unharmed.

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✘ (UN)SHELTERED

Visit the impoverished, underground Mouse House and avoid breathing in the thick, memory clouding sedative infusions. The grandiose shelter is familiar, its recalling the ruined mansion of the Unwinding. Locals say the house — which preceded Ma’am Mariol’s shelter as an orphanage — is haunted. The coal sickness spread overground after a child was adopted from here.

■ Spirits jump to throttle you or trip you down stairs, throw knives or lock you in claustrophobic rooms. Stair steps, window sills and roof beams readily collapse.

■ The last entries of house logs, found open on a library desk, mention seven freshly arrived children — six native to the Mouse House, including Gavroche, and one heavily burned boy from Ke-Waihu.

■ The ghosts of orphanage caretakers are enjoying a tea party. They ask if you are a servant or a guest. Answer ‘servant,’ and you must pour tea, as attendants stab you with cutlery when you’re within reach. You are dismissed once you finish pouring. Answer ‘guest’, and you must join them at the table and perform whatever they ask: slap yourself, dress up as a doll, answer inconvenient questions, etc. You can leave once someone else has poured tea.

■ Find the dark magic source in the house greenhouse that has been overrun by ruinous mould. While physically unharmed, you feel overcome by crippling fear, loneliness, abandonment or futility. Talking about it helps soothe it.

THE SCENIC SCIENCE ROUTE

The science-based cure requires retrieving resources and researching an answer. Godspeed.

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✘ THE SEED & THE STORM

The Unwinding revealed strands of juniper and rosemary that cure the sickness. Cain d’Ubiq confirms quantities of each plant remain cryogenically intact aboard the Serthica Aerial Healing Unit ships that were caught in the crossfire of the Sibilant Sands, when Eidris and Minaras fought their last battle. Find the vessels to retrieve the goods.

■ Take your transport flier or one of Cain d’Ubiq’s martial, fire-breathing dragons to traverse the Sibilant Sands, roughly one day’s flight each way of Serthica. Expect a hard ride, amid the growing howl of winds whipping your face and the accelerating pulse of a breaking storm.

■ Martial dragons challenge inexperienced riders, but fly sturdily through intermittent sandstorms and whirlwinds.

■ The ships can be found near dragon bones and human skeletons, in stages of burial or disrepair, stranded between rocks, or threatening to collapse once rattled.

■ Beware serpentine barbed wire animated by dark water, which jumps up from the sands. Just as vile are buried vermin-like creatures that send their razor-blade-ended tentacles to strike out from below ground.

■ Members of protest group Remembrance are also unearthing ships. They plan to board mannequins on the vessels, pass them as Minaraian and attack Eidris once more.

■ Their volatile leader Chrichter is personally fixing a ship.

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✘ THINK, TANK

Time to liberate a lab. Minaras’ foremost medical unit is the Conclave Healing Academy, comprising research labs, libraries, equipment rooms and sample collections, including some of the coal sickness.

■ The Academy connects to the centre that treatsZenobius and brims with healing apprentices. Bring juniper and rosemary samples, pose as a bright-eyed novice healer or a concerned relative of Zenobius, or barge in.

■ The Academy is cold, sterile, clean and swarmed by practising medics and academicians. Some even debate resurrection and immortality. Access is barred below, where you can hear occasional, sharp… growls.

■ Several basement laboratories are marked to study the coal sickness. Steal the entry codes from guards or tease them from a lowly medical intern — but don’t linger on the corridors long. Large clockwork hounds patrol and are attracted to sweat, a heightened or rapid pulse, shortness of breath or other biological signs of fear.

■ Take over a lab to concoct a cure elixir from the herbal strands. Test it against the coal sickness samples. Work safely, or the start of a blood cough might announce you’ve taken sick.

■ Hold the fort until your cure’s done, while guards and hounds try to enter your lab through air vents, windows or ram the door. Fight back, distract them or persuade the Academy protective droids they’re the enemy.

■ Anyone affected with the sickness can drink the cure without waiting to destroy the magical anchors. Symptoms fully disappear within 24-72h. Characters remain sensitive to the un/dead.

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SPREAD YOUR JOY

Mass-production time: take over the former underground Remembrance headquarters, one of Cain d’Ubiq’s factories, or make potions in your back yard. The cure can be drunk or absorbed through skin and must be spread overground.

You can pursue your own ideas, but some suggestions on the house:

■ Take your dragon or hijack a Minaras airship and a diffuser to spray down an incense mix that contains the cure. Minaras airships sleep in secured bays you’ll have to infiltrate. Careful taking a dragon into Minaras or an airship to Eidris — local authorities may perceive this as a security breach.

■ Reprogram or con hapless droids to feed the cure as ‘novel vitamins’ to their owners.

■ Commandeer the Mouse House train that ferries supplies from the Serthica ports and spray the cure on produce and grains.

■ Minaras High Councillor Arabella has been previously targeted by Remembrance and could be subtly persuaded to help by her rescuers.

■ Vanessa’s contact, crime boss Artemius Bale, might also have his people sneak the cure into waterways — if you cut a deal.

■ …lemonade stand?

NOTES:

■ We need one finished thread of breaking the anchors and supplying, making and distributing the cure to get the Very Best Ending, but there are multiple other finale options too — link your threads by 29 November!

■ Thanks to Finn and the Doctor’s efforts to help Ma’am Mariol’s orphanage, enjoy tips, information and help with legwork from her street-smart urchins.

■ You can ask for Artemius Bale & others here or at the NPC inbox!

■ BACK TO THE TOP.

QUESTIONS

Comments

[reparo]

There's a lot of touching. She shouldn't feel flustered by it, at this point. If there is anyone whose comforting gestures gave her reason to blush, it should not be the dragon that she's about to ride on the back of for about a day. In one direction.

She's very deliberately not going to think about that part, and test the fashioned rope for length, and for grip.

If anyone finds it odd that Hermione, who has never given signs of having bonded to a dragon before, is standing next to a majestic looking black one, well. A talk for another never time.

"One way to find out. Let me come up?"

[blackscales]

Wrathion gives a slight inclination of his head in acceptance, trying to flatten himself lower to the ground. There's only so much he can do, she will probably have to scramble up his side somewhat, but scales are resilient. Once she feels as if her weight is balance he pushed back up, lifts his head and takes a few steps to allow her time to adjust. He can see the other riders readying for take off and shifts between his front feet, glancing back even if he cannot quite turn enough to look directly at her on his back.

"Make sure your face is covered and your hair secured. The winds will be strong. When you are ready."

... Though he does still think she might have been better off with a cushion. No matter. They can break the journey, and she can perhaps transfigure something then if she has regrets.

[reparo]

It is, all in all, better than jumping onto the back of that sickly dragon in Gringotts and praying for the best to happen. At least this time around, they have similar goals and Wrathion would not shake her off in a fit of rage.

She climbs up to straddle what might be the back of his neck, the span of his wings stretching out behind her for now, and immediately aims a little cushioning spell under her for comfort. Then she ties herself in for the journey, the belt looped around his head and clasped around her waist, and squeezes her thighs to let him know she's ready.

It's a good thing she's chosen to wear practical clothes for flying, really. The cloak has been replaced by a warm jacket, further warmth achieved by the scarf around her neck - which she now wraps over her nose and mouth too - and an old leather bracer has been refashioned as a wand holster, keeping her wand secure for the right.

"Alright then - flying, and all that." She grabs onto the reins-not-reins, and loops them around her wrist. "Let's go those herbs."

[blackscales]

Yes, flying and all that.

He waits until she's confirmed verbally -- really, with how small she is and how thick his scales are he can barely feel her moving -- then braces himself against the ground. He presses down, then in a display of pure muscles launches straight off the ground. His wings beat to gain height, then to steer them forward to catch up with the rest of the group. It is not, in truth, entirely the gentlest take off -- but it's the take off of someone who is not used to having to worry about a passenger.

To his credit, his does settle into an easy glide afterwards. This is something he learned quickly when carrying people to and from the volcano: the more he beats his wings the more he jostles them. The best tactic is to fly high, and glide using air currents.

Of course, this flight is also much longer than that. Even broken up, he imagines it is exhausting for Hermione to feel as if she's gripping on for this length of time. There's little he can do about that, beyond make idle small talk where he can to try and take her mind off it.

Until the sandstorms hit, that is. Then, he has to focus.

He's ridden through rough weather before, but never with a passenger, and it is entirely more stressful that way. She is, after all, very small and the wind and sand are very strong. He almost wishes he had carried her in his claws, but somehow suspects she wouldn't have appreciated that. By the time they reach the crash site, airships half buried in sand surrounded by the white dragons of Eidris, Wrathion feels exhausted himself. His wings kick up another whirl of sand as he comes in to land, and he sinks down to the ground with muted relief.

It wouldn't do to make a big display, naturally he was never concerned.

[reparo]

She lets out an undignified little yelp and practically slams her body down against his neck as soon as he takes off, the wind already doing damage to her hair. She should've braided it, but that is a waste of time now.

She has her eyes closed and her teeth gritted for the better part of three minutes, between taking off and leaving the dragon port place thing. But she gains some composure eventually: it helps to remind herself that she's not scared of heights, they just make her uncomfortable when she can't control the fall. There is a belt around her, keeping her in place, and she feels about as safe as she can aboard a giant dragon soaring through the sky.

Even though she knows that if she were to fall she'd turn into a pancake, she won't!

And then the sandstorms hit.

At this point, she sticks herself low against his neck by necessity, pulling on a pair of goggles and counting her luck for remembering to grab one from the other dragon riders before she even bumped into Wrathion to begin with. It helps to be able to see where they're going, even if all she sees mostly is sand.

She's on the lookout for anything flying their way, or flung their way, because these are dangerous places. Never more clear that they are when the crash site comes into view, and she sees Eidris's dragons and their riders there.

Thankfully, Wrathion lands them a little out of the way, and she has time to renew the notice-me-not spell on both of them.

"That went well," she boldly says, climbing off him. And finds out, quite quickly, that holding her legs in that position for that long means cramps and wobbly knees. Finds out by stumbling when she tries to climb down his front paw, and falls flat on her face in the sand.

[blackscales]

Ah! Wrathion lurches forward as she does, intending to catch her but realising quickly he hasn't quite the the right tools. His claws are too large, his wings awkward, and no doubt she'd object if he caught her clothing between his teeth.

"Ah," he offers, a soft rumble that is still somehow loud given his size. "Are you well..."?

Did she trip? Is she injured? He's struggling to tell immediately. Mortal forms are often fragile. He cannot smell blood, but that doesn't mean she isn't hurt in some other way. His snout veers close to her, trying examine more closely.

[reparo]

"I'm fine," she groans out, as quietly as she can, pushing herself up form the sand to her knees. She rests back on her hells, and checks that her mask is in place, glancing up at Wrathion now.

"Sorry, my legs fell asleep. Not used to flying for that long, but..." She nudges towards the crash site. "Did you see them? Eidris dragons - we better be careful going in..."

And she's assuming Wrathion will revert back to his human form, because why wouldn't he? Can't steal stuff with massive claws. Ostensibly.

[blackscales]

Ah, well. He watches he kneel up, carefully lowers himself to the ground close to her and tucks his feet under himself as he looks in the direction of the crash site.

"I have seen them," he agrees. "And several of them have seen me before, in this form. If required, would you be able to assist moving the airships? The sand has begun to cover them. If not, I could remain in this form..."

They'd need to be careful they just looked like an unusual dragon and rider, but he could then use his considerable size to unearth them if need be. Unless she has useful spells for... unearthing buried things? He's not quite sure if there's really a limit to the sort of magic she knows. If he were asking Jaina, he's sure she could just levitate a half buried airship, but magic is different both here and for Hermione.

[reparo]

"I can levitate things," she murmurs carefully, just to try and plan this out wisely. "Not sure I can levitate a whole ship, but that's because I haven't tried before."

She presses her lips together, musing aloud: "On the other hand, I could blow a hole in the side of it that we could both slip into if you want to go back to human...nnoid? Form?"

[blackscales]

He turns towards her, tilting his head curiously at her hesitation.

"If the ship is metal, I could easily melt a hole myself. I would be concerned about damaging the samples, however. Perhaps we try the least destructive routes first."

See if they can move or levitate it before doing anything more drastic?

[reparo]

She doesn't think of herself as a very powerful witch, and therein lies the problem here. She thinks she's capable for sure, and very studious, and in possession of a remarkably grey moral code if it suits her ultimate goals, but - does she think she could levitate the whole ship on her own? No.

She hesitates and looks towards the ship, then back to her dragon. "I think...ah, let's try the option where you lift the ship first?"

[blackscales]

Digging claws it is, then. He nods, hesitates a moment again as he studies her.

"... Can you walk?"

After all, she did seem to have a problem with her legs. Will they hold if the two of them go traipsing through the sand now towards the ship? Or will she get up then immediately fall over again?

[reparo]

She wiggles her toes inside her practical boots, and nods, pushing herself up to stand. She reaches out to steady herself on his front leg, and gives it a pat before she can consider if this constitutes a grope.

What is anatomy when you shapeshift?

"Alright, I'm good. I can walk and I can run, and I can Disapparate if need be." If they are chased or fought.

"Could also put them all in a body binding curse while we search the ship, if that's necessary."

She'll be strategic and ruthless here. For the greater good.

"Let's go."

[blackscales]

How very drastic. Wrathion tilts his head thoughtfully, considering her. It is... good to know she will defend him, regardless.

"I am hoping it will not come to that. They have been... interested in me before, but assumed I am a ... rare form of Eidris dragon. Come."

Wrathion keeps his shape and turns to head towards the ship, claws sinking in the sand dunes. A few riders look up at him, curious, and murmur to each other, but they otherwise seem to go back to their tasks. For the moment, at least. He approaches the ship and attempts to dig some sand away from it, watches it flow right back thoughtfully.

Sand is a nightmare.

Moving around the ship he finds a narrower part of it, grabs it in sharp looking teeth and begins to haul the ship free of where it has sunk into the sand. For something that looks so heavy, it does in fact begin to move.

[reparo]

She still has the scarf around the lower part of her face, covering her from the sand and the worst of the storm, so whatever the others see, it doesn't occur to them that it might be that busybody tax collector from Minaras. Why would it?

She takes advantage of a moment when Wrathion pulls the ship up to cast another notice-me-not spell on both of them, and keeps a lookout for a spot on the ship that she could Apparate onto. It's short distance, but she's never had to do it in a sand storm before, so it's challenging.

When she spots what could be considered the deck of the ship, she swishes her wand and her entire existence folds in on itself, reappearing on board the ship, close to Wrathion's teeth.

(Get you a dragon who can do both.)

"I'll be quick," she says loud enough for his ears, and maneuvers her way down the deck to find the bloody herbs.

Sand. Ugh.

[blackscales]

He'd nod, but he has a mouth full of sandy metal. Instead, Wrathion digs his feet more into the sand -- trying to hold the ship steady. His teeth are razor sharp things, denting the metal as he holds the airship, but keeping something up with jaw strength alone isn't the easiest of things.

The metal creaks ominously, and the sand shimmers then moves. A length of what looks like barbed wire begins to slither out and begins to lash at Wrathion's leg, to wrap around one. He growls unhappily, but although it is uncomfortable the barbed wire is struggling to pierce scale... for now.

[reparo]

She is as careful and cautious as she can possibly be, while maneuvering herself around a ship that's being kept up by a dragon via teeth. She has her wand out, a Lumos lighting her way, and to the onlookers - few as they will be, with her spell up - she disappears below deck.

Emerges again about twenty minutes later, pale and looking like she's been through a fight. She may have fought a few of those barbed tentacles off down below, and one managed to nick her cheek, but a little bit of blood has not deterred her from getting to those herbs and fitting as many as she could inside her bag before it became difficult to stay down there on her own.

She runs out, not really emerging, and dashes straight for Wrathion.

"Coming up!" she warns him, and climbs back to where she was via stepping on his snout and forehead and jumping to dodge a barbed wire.

She lets out an oof when she lands, and then quickly slices at the vines wrapped around Wrathion with one hand, while with the other she puts the harness system back in place.

"Let's go let's go let's go!"

[blackscales]

Stepping on his nose is, in fact, rude. Wrathion growls a low warning, but the barbed wire frees from his leg and that is a blessing. He lets go of the airship, working his jaw a little to free it of the ache, and backs away across the sand as it sinks back into the dunes.

"You have enough?" he prompts, but he's assuming the answer is yes or else she wouldn't be encouraging them leaving. He jumps and boosts himself into the air with a beat of his wings, keeping clear of any more of the strange metal tendrils that might catch out at his feet.

[reparo]

In her defense, she needed to get on his back and exit swiftly and she knows it was rude, so she's feeling very guilty about it.

But also a bit winded.

"Yes - as much as I could find. Those beastly things kept trying to attack." Now she brings a hand up to gingerly touch her cheek, and yes, she got grazed by one of those vicious thorns.

"Whatever provisions were here, someone else must've gotten to them too, but I got what was left. Are you alright?"

[blackscales]

"There will be no lasting damage," he assures her, and beats his wings harder to lift himself higher into the air. "Are you injured?"

He thinks he can smell a trace of blood, although she climbed up him well enough that she is clearly not crippled by it.

"If you require rest, we can find somewhere safe to wait before returning."

It's a long flight, after all, and he understands that flying is not very restful for Hermione.