westwhere | sand in your eyes

sand in your eyes

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

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( Your hearing, good old sir, it is going, along with good sense most likely, as they all face with advancing... age. )

My deep appreciation for the works of any of the three. Are many in blues?

Of course, of course... but, ah... for the discerning customer. A man of taste. And... a certain...

( The telling wave of his hand: money, money, money. )

Disposition. Of his coin purse. A smiling attitude.

Coming to you penniless wouldn't be sensible, not for a man of your trade, your insight!

( he pats his hip, where something thuds with a metallic ting. )

I wouldn't embarrass you so, good master!

It is good not to embarrass yourself before such fine, extraordinary, never-before encountered wares.

( ...but he's already drawing Wei Wuxian in his tent to display the wealth of silken richs in his coffer, meters of cloth gently folded and set to store. Blue, blue, blue... here a navy, another teal... blue as the skies... blue as the same, but stormed... slate... )

( he clicks his tongue, makes murmurs is appreciation and consideration, though what catches his eyes are on the lighter blues regardless. not soft, but clear.

he reaches out, touches only a few, nods to himself. )

These three, and that cream I see there, tinted cool. Along with the bone pale one. Do you have ribbon?

( Yes, yes, of course. Dragging them forth, minding the selection, presenting and displaying it. Careful, most careful is the merchant. These three — and he holds up two cream options, the laced and the gleaming. And bone? Of course. )

Ribbon...? We are dressing a bride?

One who is yet to tire of wedding.

( said with a smile that makes it difficult to tell if he teases or speaks true. though as far as he can tell, finding a ribbon to match close to the shade his husband wears, he hums, selecting more than the one. )

What are the colours of marriage for your home?

The... colours, good sir? Why should one colour represent this most blessed, most beautiful of events?

( Excuse a moment's sartorial outrage, shock and commercial awe culminating in a baleful stare. )

A young man or woman merely wears their brightest and their finest.

They do?

( he sounds positively curious and pleased by this information. )

The tradition in my home is embroidered reds or greens, with dragons and phoenixes for prosperity and luck and longevity. Yours sounds delightfully rich for feasting eyes!

And if they have no such clothing already?

( ...then again, this sounds like a remarkable opportunity to sell more, carry on. He sees the way of it. )

Ahhhhh, no, no, this humble one, in his belated wisdom understands. Tradition. Most natural.

Isn't it just?

( here, as he makes to look at ribbon for longer, glances caressing as his fingers do not. )

Other traditions I wonder over—does any in your caravan have authority to marry?

( ...profiteering senses tingling. )

The... authority... to... when you speak it so, perhaps. It can be arranged. Why, good Mazyar, he knows not why, I truly know not why, but so often, so many youths approach me for guidance. For counsel. To escort them readily in this new step of their lives, and though I am no priest and no custodian of the rites, of course, I make the humblest attempt.

( A minor cough, as he starts packing the silks. )

For a small indiscretion, the smallest of fees, you understand, for the incense, the offerings... only that! For himself, Mazyar would not presume to ask. Unless, of course, you offer.

( oh but he continues to smile. )

Perhaps, with an invoice... see, I must consult the other half of my heart. It won't do, otherwise!

Of course. Of course. Though, dare I say, you must hasten with your proceedings. Supplies are, understandably, tight. Should another young pair wish to see through their matrimony — ( In the middle of the desert, how many fools can there be. ) I cannot guarantee you will retain first right of purchase. Then, where will you be? Bereft. Without. Not that good Mazyar cannot be kind to you and find alternatives. He can achieve many things, only great. He is in fact a creature of ingenuity.

( Why, look at his folded clothes. ) But, you see, such is the way. In life. In love. And I have known many abandoned for far lesser causes. You do not rush to wed? Your fated one will lose faith. They retreat. They weep. Nothing is as it was again. You are distraught. Grieving. The rest of your good life. Because you could not select your flowers correctly! Being these, our unique circumstances, I suggest — paper ones.

Ah, but a lifetime of petty grievances, master, for not having my other half in word and deed approving each step of the way... that's more than a month in the desert. It's inviting the desert to dwell in my bed, and parch me every night in it's chill embrace.

I'll pass along the word of paper flowers. It might be exactly what turns the decision!

Certainly. And may I say: hand-crafted, one and all. Neatly and delicately folded by deft artisan fingers. ( The cooks are doing it. ) Imbued with fragrances of musk and earthy quality. ( It's sweat. ) Lightly powdered in a golden sheen. ( We're throwing sand on them. )

A beauty. A delight. Truly, a premium product.

How may a man resist? Only for my future happiness will I, for now... singing such praises! I can see how you married, Master, with such insight into the opportunities for beauty no matter the surrounds!

( ...oh, how brutal, how painful, how cruel. )

Married, my friend? Aahhhhhh... you see, this Mazyar was well prepared to, but, believe me. All the brides, all of them. Once I was readied for my wedding day, in the ways of my people, we went with ceremony to collect the bride from her house, and... and...

...she told me, Mazyar, Mazyar, I cannot come. I cannot be wedded to you. I am unworthy. How may I compare? Look at you, handsome as a god, witty as a raven, they success and luck of a golden coin. How can I present myself beside you with pride and not lower your standing?

( The deepest, most tragic of sighs. ) Of course, being her wish, I could not speak against her.

Ah, I see, I see, so difficult when you're of such stock that finding equals in heart and purse and life pursuits becomes a challenge few are willing to meet...

( he doesn't say rise to meet. he is kindly not saying sink to meet either. but he does, after a pause, cant his head to the side, and ask, as if the thought has just occurred to him: )

What about the husbands?

Ahhhhh... I am afraid this Mazyar's flag only hoists in the direction of one port.

( he nods, very sagely, since in all frankness he thought this for himself with the except of who he actually married. not so much an internal conversation as an eventual realisation, and no particular pull to persons in long, lasting ways who were men, and flirtations always easy and expected with the women.

he's unconcerned by this, regardless, and simply smiles. )

One cannot be faulted for having smaller seas, ah? One day, one day you'll find the woman who feels no lack for standing side by side with you.

( And here, a hand on the man's shoulder, and a purse of coin set on the table. )

We'll make beautiful flower arrangements that day, Master Mazyar.

( ...he is touched. It singes him, mouth soured and ill content. But he bears it, for there is coin, and that is a thing that wants attention. )

And... the rest of your order, my friend? Your instruction?

( he taps a finger on his chin, thoughtful, and smiles. )

Wait for word from my wife, ah? Can't move without the blessing of the one who has me, heart and mind.

But my friend, my friend. As I live and breathe, I can hear the prices of folding paper triple.

Ah, but my friend, dearest Mazyar, did you not know?

( he leans in, voice low, but meant to carry to one man's ears. )

I'm a folder of paper myself.

( then, back at normal, conversational volume:

Moving, dancing, in power, and in mystery. Very profitable, when one knows their audience. The likes which I've yet to see native to these great lands we wander!

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