sand in your eyes

[groundrules]

And onwards, through the cursed desert. The mini-journey Arc covers 6-21 January and doubles as a test drive meme. Participants do not need an invite to apply this round. Have fun!

SAND IN YOUR EYES

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TEST DRIVE TOURISTS | ONE SAND WASHES THE OTHER
A HOUSE UNITED WILL SAND | SOILMATES | A PYRAMID SCHEME

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A SANDING OVATION

Sand in your eyes, down your throat, stifling. You wake half-buried in high dunes, crawling towards helping hands. Thirst vanquishes you.

You are quickly offered a translation and communication pendant and introduced to the leader of the caravan that saved you — good Mazyar, who thanks the stars for your most incredible luck to be rescued by his generous and humble self. For he is not a man for idle praise, but he has sold salt to salt makers, he was courted by seven of the five great trade guilds and brought peace to the Stairs of Sighs…

Mazyar reveals you are in Akhuras, where undead lieges seek to weaponise you in their war for dominion. Mazyar’s good but less successful friend, the elusive Merchant ferries otherworlders east, where ancient beacons can transport them home.

Retire for now and regain your strength. Come morning, further otherworlders will arrive from Serthica — and your journey may begin.

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ONE SAND WASHES THE OTHER

The veteran party reunites with newcomers in the desert, and with the merchant Mazyar — who once guided them through the Stairs of Sighs. His caravan is protected by the Scavengers —deathly a tribe of hardened desert raiders. They bring water flasks, supplies, cooling suits and tents to share. Their snail-like carriage mounts can transport the weak.

You are bound for the seized citadel of Alem, swarmed on each side by undead battalions. To access it, you must obtain one of the enormous sand worms that trawl the deserts, which can be deployed to create underground passageways.

The Scavengers will lead the caravan through haunted dunes, the worms’ traditional hunting grounds and temple-fortress Uruksithar.

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A HOUSE UNITED WILL SAND

The group first reaches the Valley of Unchaining, bordered by high cliffs and fang-like stones. Here and there, discover bloodied footprints, half-buried shackles and red chains. You might even stumble upon an eroded tombstone inscribed, H R SL EP THE UNCH IN D. At its feet are dulled dagger blades and rough calcar stone.

COULD DIE FROM LAUGHTER

You fool, never eat alone. Happen by the camp’s outskirts with your dinner, and you might glimpse the silhouettes of starved desert hyenas, their eyes glistening green. They will come close if you bear raw meat or bleeding wounds.

■ Scavengers say, if you see the hyenas, throw them food or a cloth drenched in fresh blood, then run without looking back until you no longer hear their cruel cries.

■ Some hyenas mimic rasped human voices, begging help or calling your name. One feeble hyena wears a chain of red shackles around its neck.

■ If you look back while chased, you find the green stare of the hyenas fixed upon you. You are gradually overcome by starvation, violence and the urge to dismember prey and feast on raw flesh. Player’s choice on whether characters can resist this compulsion, which disappears at dawns, or if they taste blood.

■ Scavengers will deny you entrance into the camp if you appear possessed in this way.

SANDIMENTAL VALUE

You walk the Valley, Scavengers say, and Mother Death walks with you. A once handsome crone might appear beside you, bare-footed and dressed in clean linens. She remains silent unless spoken to and flinches if you move suddenly, as if she fears being struck.

■ Treat the Crone kindly, and she entrusts you with a small pouch holding a fraction of her ashes, which she wants scattered from the hills.

■ Use rope and climbing hooks and take cover behind stone formations. Beware the violent sand whirlwinds that batter the cliffs, threatening to plunge you down or choke you with sand.

■ If you succeed, the Crone appears to watch her scattering ashes and bless you with good luck for the rest of your journey. Your kindness, she says, reminds her of her daughter.

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SOILMATES

The three-day walk to Uruksithar traverses the sand worms’ hunting grounds, where dunes shift periodically in sharp, tectonic waves. Watch your step and don’t be surprised if your tent sinks at night.

■ The Scavengers organise daily reconnaissance parties in the desert hills. Stay with them to unbury dune treasures.

■ The brave & brazen can try to catch sand worms. The massive creatures erupt overground periodically, catching prey in their large mouths, or crushing it beneath their heft as they plunge in the depths — creating large sinkholes in the process.

■ On its back, each sand worm has a few darker scales that draw the shape of a rune. To tame a sand worm, you must find its rune, then write the symbol on the worm’s back using blood from your hands. Report your catch by 23:59 on 17 January!

■ The sand worm bonds with you for three weeks until the next full moonrise, or until you draw the same rune on your cut hand.

■ Those who secure a sand worm find it grudgingly follows them underground for the rest of the journey. The creature can only be steered or ridden.

■ Some sand worms are vicious, old and sufficiently magical to retaliate by taking the link over and forcing their bonded humans to experience their lives — briefly sensitive to light and strong sounds, or unable to speak. Some might experience mild fevers. All symptoms disappear when the bond breaks.

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A PYRAMID SCHEME

At last, welcome to Uruksithar, former jewel of the desert — now reduced to rusted gates and tattered walls of wind-lashed stone.

The abandoned palace-fortress features a row of minor temples and barren gardens that surround a great, ruinous pit. The state of residential furnishings suggests the grounds were lived mere years prior. Walk north to find a a large pool of thickened black water that exudes a cold, unsettling presence. Veteran party members know what to expect.

Nail scratches on some temple walls read, we, who did not sleep or i ask the wind to grieve our chains. By the pit, a stone plate helpfully says, drop by drop, even base water turns to poison.

The Scavengers disperse to raid the temples, advising you to carry water everywhere. One raider mentions that the local Temple of Ra’esh stores silver waters that can woo sand worms.

OCTOPUS PRIME

Uruksithar’s great gong strikes every two hours, to groans and shudders from the abyssal pit. Scavengers immediately take cover behind walls, bind themselves to columns or rush into crumbling residences.

■ For five minutes, as the gong sounds a pathetic dirge, a bouquet of tentacles erupts from the pit, sweeping nearby streets to capture living things.

■ Throwing water on the tentacles forces them to retreat, while black liquid from the northern pool burns them down. Further tendrils emerge until the gong quiets.

■ Should you fall into the pit, use your climbing hooks to latch onto the walls and don’t look down. A grotesque, sharp-toothed mouth awaits below to devour you, amid the squelching sounds of the tissue and material it has been masticating for decades. It won’t give up its lunch easily.

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TOMB AND GLOOM

Ra’esh the Bright-maker, he who saw but peace beneath the skies. His humble temple is anonymous among numerous worship grounds. Scavengers say, four years ago, a wanderer sculpted an eye with a sun for a pupil on the entrance door. Take a torch and head in.

■ Long-stripped of its glory, the maze-like Temple of Ra’esh is now cold stone, stale window-less corridors and heavy doors that snap down from the ceiling.

■ Distant susurrations of water point you towards your destination.

■ As you walk in, pay attention to the engravings near the entryway of each temple room. Some depict arrows, forecasting spikes will burst up from floors tiles. Sculpted drops hint pouring water in this spot will open a door. Open a door with an engraving of large serpents, and… well. The engravings can help characters navigate the maze and completely avoid its traps. Feel free to make up your own engravings & traps, if you want!

■ The altar room contains a pool with pearlescent waters that surround a woman fully bandaged in gauze, her sight obscured. She is bound to a column with chains and shackles akin to those found in the desert. Rare peeks of her skin show it rotting or sickly pale.

■ She asks either if you are her mother, come for her at last. Do you engage?

■ Take water from the pool, and you can lure a sand worm to you once you have exited Uruksithar. Hazed, but sweet-tempered, it will follow you underground and allow you to ride it for the three weeks until the next full moonrise. These sand worms won’t give you a hard time during the bond period. Report your worm too by 23:59 on 17 January!

NOTES

■ Test driving & in-game characters can top level logs here — test driving characters can also put up network posts in this space c:

■ Feel free to investigate the mystery of the chains and shackles, but no pressure — it’s not critical to Arc V.

■ Hit up NPCs!

■ Navigation top.

QUESTIONS

Comments

[speechy]

Understatement, I expect. ( oh, he'd enjoy the bloodlust plenty enough in the moment. it's the after he's referring to; the cloying sense of guilt, the weight of it, and not least of all the retaliation of pain he might receive for his antics.

he cocks his head to the side at her, sizing her up in a new light. being a witch explains things. she could be anywhere on the sliding scale from herb gatherer and potion-maker to a world-destroyer, best not to suss out which one. if she isn't afraid of a monster, odds are that she is closer to the latter than the former. )

Spike. What should I call you, Hocus Pocus? Elphaba? Sabrina? Something the Magnificent?

( if he takes a lapse to glance away, eyes downcast, nearly closed, it's because he glanced at her throat. )

[westviews]

[Definitely an understatement, even if this place has dampened her magic to a certain degree. It's not the end of the world--she can still fend for herself--but it's unsettling, and she's still yet to see the extent of it. Naturally, it'll probably be in some sort of dire situation where she realizes the limits of what she can do, now.

Yet he coaxes an amused smile out of her.]

Wanda. Just Wanda.

[And maybe she caught that glance, because she fixes her hair so that it hangs forward over her shoulders rather than back, a thin veil for her neck. She crosses her arms over her middle, considering.]

Does it have to be human blood?

[speechy]

( fun as a head-splitting spell in his brain sounds or being tossed about like a rag doll, spike finds himself recounting the reasons he isn't a killer for the sake of it. having his back pressed against the wall and picking his own continued survival is another matter entirely, he's not that pristine. but, that isn't the dilemma in front of him.

them.

wanda is still standing across from him with her arms crossed when he looks back up. )

Animal will suffice in a pinch. ( he says nothing of the taste. ) Not as effective, but it does the trick. Somewhat.

Before you start, I'm not making a midnight snack out of someone's beloved Fluffy. That's how mobs are formed.

[westviews]

[As cute as naming a snail mount Fluffy is in her head, she can't imagine it being a good source of blood.]

The Scavengers say there are hyenas. They're not fond of them. We can try and find you one, if it's dire.

[Not knowing that's what got him into this predicament in the first place, Wanda voices the offer. We.]

[speechy]

( god, but in all his life, he's put his mouth in some weird places and alien snail is still a Concept he can't get his head around. thankfully, he's free of the visuals. )

Met them. Tried to take a bite of me. Not twenty minutes ago. ( if there's a whisper in that, something clawing at the dark recesses of his mind, it hasn't clicked yet. curses, though, are a fairly regular occurrence back home. ) Something funny in the eyes.

[westviews]

Does that mean you don't want revenge?

[After her encounter with a wolf in the woods of the inn they had stayed at before departing to the desert, she doesn't think of hyenas as much of a threat. Her main concern is making sure this guy doesn't become one, regardless of how much he says he doesn't want to turn the camp into a blood sampling flight.

But if there's something off with the creatures, it's best not to test their luck. She's pretty sure just by proximity he's inherited some of her perpetual bad luck, anyway. Sorry, Spike. It'll wash off soon.]

It's your choice. I don't think most of the travelers will be too concerned about you being a vampire considering some of the people in the party.

[She just doesn't want any accidents.]

[speechy]

Didn't say that, did I?

( a challenge, a decent brawl might be the cure-all he doesn't know he's missing. )

Had to throw those bottom-feeders my actual dinner. ( waste not, want not. just because he hadn't been enjoying the food given to him didn't mean he saw the sense in throwing it into the sands when that sustenance could have gone farther in someone else's hands. ) Cheeky bastards couldn't even catch their own meal.

( he rises then, springs up back to full height. spike paces a foot away from wanda, pivots and starts again. )

Can't you enchant me? Knock me out with a whisper and a prayer? I could use a decent night's sleep. Or - lock me up sans a safe word. Ward the tent from trespassers and whatnot. Is that a thing? Can you do that?

I'd owe you one.

[westviews]

[Hyenas do tend to lean on the side of scavengers. Wanda wonders if vampires fall closer to that or true predators, but she's not keen on insulting Spike by asking.

Her eyes stay on him as he rises, not wary, but attentive.

And then she looks surprised.]

I... yes. [Not that she's forgotten her own abilities. It's just--] We just met. You'd trust me to put you to sleep and bind you?

[Because that's the combo that sounds safest.]

[speechy]

Magic has consequences, usually unseen. ( the distaste for the wondrous boons magic has given him aside, it doesn't handle those who wield it or those who benefit from it with kid gloves.

he stops his restless wandering, stills in the groves made by his shoes. )

I've acquired a decent amount of control and patience in my time. But, I told you. I'm not feeling much like myself. So, yeah, more than I trust myself to abstain, presently.

( and if she's having doubts— )

I can hear your heart pumping blood from here.

[westviews]

[Mention her heartbeat, and it inevitably picks up the pace. No terror, no panic, just some minor unease. She gives Spike a long look before nodding.]

Let's put you where the sun won't find you in the morning.

[Since she assumes that part of the lore applies to him.]

[speechy]

( he's not proud about how many thumps come between her comment and his next; how he listens, how he touches his tongue to the roof of his mouth. it just is. spike tilts his head at wanda, giving audience to an urge he ought not be indulging for any length. he doesn't look for the pulse in her neck again, but he is distracted. )

Appreciate that. ( loathe as he is to admit that weakness. it's on display, has to be in this terrain. there's regrettably no real workaround to conceal it. ) Tent? Giant snail? I've taken to calling one of them Eduardo.

Pick my poison.

[westviews]

Tent. Eduardo might mean I lose track of you.

[Not ideal, if this hunger of his doesn't dissipate or get resolved otherwise. Is this Wanda's problem? No. Is she making it her problem? Apparently.]

If you can hear my pulse, you can find us an unoccupied tent. After you.

[She motions for him to walk ahead of her. Just in case.]

[speechy]

You're keeping track of me now?

( she had been the first of them to throw we like a penny in a well between them. )

'Course not keeping tabs on my whereabouts would mean losing out on a favor.

( wanda had been willing to follow him before the offer had been extended. odds are, she doesn't need her debts paid, least of all by someone like spike. he fishes regardless, trying to get to the source of her. it's easy enough, striding forward through the sand and following his instincts — a pull of an inhale on the wind through his nostrils to get another sense of direction.

( bad idea. )

there's chatter, the crackle of fire, a periodic squeal from one hyena to another. sooner rather than later, he flips up the flap of an empty tent and glances over his shoulder at wanda. he'd honor ladies first, were she not so intent to be at his backside. )

This one will do, ( he supplies, just before ducking in. )

[westviews]

[That gets a breathy laugh out of Wanda.]

I'm not looking for a favor. Just in keeping a newcomer from having a bad time.

[Old habits die hard, and she does have a way to help him. So she follows behind him, and gives a nod of her head once he finds an empty tent. A small, confined space probably isn't a good idea, but she's confident in her ability to bind him.

Sitting, legs crossed, she waits for him to get settled.]

Ankles, wrists, mouth. [What mouth? She shakes her head at herself and the unbidden memory she pointedly doesn't thin about. No, she won't do that to Spike. Binding him and putting his mind to sleep is already crossing lines she didn't want to cross anymore.] And I'll put you to sleep until the sun comes up. Then what?

[speechy]

You not intending to collect doesn't mean I won't find a way to make it up to you. Give you a good time in exchange for saving me from a bad one.

( being the type of man prepared to flirt with a streetlight if he had chemistry with it, that might be suggestive were they not alone in a cramped space under gloomy conditions. as it is, he swings at sincere. it's only fair. doesn't have to be calling one in; could be anything. he can't wrap his head around what when he's moving towards the little sleeping roll and flattening himself against it unceremoniously. )

Then, we hope whatever this is has subsided. If the spell doesn't hold that long, the sun will keep me in check. I haven't thought that far ahead. Cross that bridge when we get to it. Just, uh, don't Sleeping Beauty me.

[westviews]

You're funny.

[Alas. It can never be; she enjoys roasted garlic too much. Her own little joke nearly gets a rueful smile from herself. Two comedians, the both of them. It's a career option if they want to leave the Halloween inspiration behind.]

If there are witches and vampires here, I'm sure someone has to be a prince.

[There are doctors (Doctors?), exorcists, partially cybernetic humanoids. Why not some royalty? Surely someone could wake Spike up. There's a brief shift in Wanda's gaze, it dropping down to Spike's ankles before her eyes shift from green to red.

A flick of her wrist has that similar red glow wisping from her fingertips to his ankles, wrapping around. Securely, but not too tightly. There's no heat, no warmth. If not for the light, it would be just as if there was a cord keeping his ankles together--simply unforgiving and stronger than any cord would be.

The same is done to his wrists, and there she pauses.]

Try it out.

[Some of her magic hasn't been working as expected, so they're both about to learn something. But it will hold.]

[speechy]

Nothing like the impending threat of murder to bring out my finer qualities.

( who’s going to tell her? someone should tell her about the unreliability of lore and myths; some which are true, some which are presumed to be on account of not having someone live to debunk it and tell the tale. the garlic thing was just funny. )

A prince and my true love? Bundled in one little package? Now who’s jesting?

( the talking, even if the banter is about nothing, helps. keeps him from spacing out and going into a place of rumination and fantasy. he hasn’t been to a place of such deep hunger since the first evil got into his head. he imagines there will be time to traverse his thoughts in dreams, not the waking world.

spike tenses, watches as her eyes change color as she sets to work, binding him at the ankles and then at the wrists, which he places in front of him for the ease of tying less of him together - exuding less magic, hopefully. he doesn’t know what level wanda is and what she’ll be exerting to help him.

he struggles at full strength and shockingly, can’t do more than wriggle his palms together, wrists rubbing. the cord doesn’t chafe necessarily, but it’s stronger than expected. much of the same with his legs. )

Feels like it'll hold.

[westviews]

Perfect.

[She had struggled with the beasts in the lake. What should have been effortless made her grit her teeth with exertion. The same would happen here, she suspects, but all she can feel is the pull against her magic. Good.]

Do vampires dream? I can encourage your mind to have a good one.

[The other side of the ability to inflict nightmares is the ability to inflict something nicer, too. Of course, HYDRA preferred her to practice one over the other.]

[speechy]

( he's not so old as to be insurmountable, though he has persistence and willpower in spades. the latter two have allowed him triumphs where wiser have failed. )

No. I mean, yes. We dream like the rest of you. It's not on the table though. Kindly stay out of my head. You can do what you like with my body, ( hold on, that's not. mmmm, bad word choice. ) but leave weaving a tapestry into my noggin out of it. I'll take my chances with the natural order of things.

this is the worst sleepover

[westviews]

[There it is. Trusting because he must be--to a degree. The corner of her mouth quirks upwards in an amused smile.]

Then I'll just say goodnight.

[For this, she has to move closer so that her fingers can hover over his temple.]

See you in the morning, Spike.

[Because he hopefully knows she'll be hanging out here, with him, until sunrise. Regardless, it's light's out and a sort of glowing red, magic muzzle to keep any teeth away from unlucky necks. Wanda herself does catch some light sleep, but come sunrise and the general morning sounds of the camp, she's waking. It's not him. Sleep is never easy for her. Sometimes, it works in her favor. Like when she's up to make sure her magic held, and so that she can remove the magical muzzle before dispelling his sleep to find out whether his hunger remains.

Hopefully, he had a dream about where to go from there.]

wdym all that's missing is a pillow fight

[speechy]

( that he’s willingly subjecting himself to magic is a testament to the extent he’ll go to honor himself. all of which goes over wanda’s head, and why wouldn’t it? he hates magic. it’s the cutting corners aspect. there’s no denying that it’s a useful means to an end, but that he leans into before running through every option is the bafflement. he understands the exchange more than most.

she touches his forehead and he swallows harshly, disdainful and grateful in the same sweep of his eyes. )

Night, Wanda.

( he should say it - say something, do more than convey a thank you with his gaze. but, he’s unconscious with a muzzle, tucked properly into place. he dreams of the rainfall, heavy and slick; he dreams of hell on earth, of a chasm ripping through reality. of war and battle cries, and a dragon overhead.

( and he dreams about punching andrew in the face, unrelated, and for no other reason than it makes him smile. )

spike wakes with a dramatic start, bodily throwing himself onto his side, and having nothing to plummet off of. he’s already on the floor. )

Teach you to stand there, looking all smug and like if Dungeons and Dragons had a gigolo option, you sorry sack of— Wanda?

Did I try to eat you?

there's still time

[westviews]

[The sudden movement has Wanda leaning away a touch, but she's not yet released his limbs, so she's not worried. Just confused.]

What? [She asks with a squint of her eyes. Does she really need to know? Probably not.] Nevermind. No, you didn't try to eat me. Do you still want to try and eat me?

[She hopes he'll tell the truth. Though it would come out either way, wouldn't it?]

[speechy]

( he shakes off the pull of sleep, the ridiculousness of dreaming and is glad to not need to elaborate on what the hell he had been talking about. without the full range of movement, it’s a struggle, shifting about. he peers at wanda in question of himself, mostly. leans into contemplation to get a sense of where his feelings are. )

No, not actively. I’m back to the baseline. I’d bite, but only if you asked.

( bit of an overshare to the lady that has him bound. )

You in the general sense.

[westviews]

I'll take your word for it.

[That's all she has, really, beyond diving into his head, and that's a line she doesn't like to cross when she's not deep in the pages of any books of the damned. The bindings at Spike's wrists and ankles disappear with little fanfare.]

That's good news. [And a relief, because she doesn't want a fight. She's Tired.] The bad news is outside the tent.

[And by that, she means the sun.]

[speechy]

Right. Big, old flaming ball of bollocks.

( last night could have been tougher than a stiffness in his muscles from being dormant in the same position. like say, being pinned by magic but very much entombed in the madness and gnawing hunger of his mind consciously. if that had been the case, wanda might not be so comfortable perched nearby. he pushes himself up slowly, onto one elbow. )

Thank you for last night. ( how inadequately put. ) Doesn’t quite feel sufficient, saying it, but.