let's set d o w n some (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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westwhere2023-01-06 07:33 pm
groundrules) wrote in westwhere2023-01-06 07:33 pm
Entry tags:
- 2ha: chu wanning,
- arcane: jinx,
- arcane: vi,
- arcane: viktor,
- asoiaf: daenerys targaryen,
- better call saul: jimmy mcgill,
- better call saul: kim wexler,
- doctor who: clara oswald,
- doctor who: the doctor,
- final fantasy xiv: vrtra,
- game of thrones: jon snow,
- mcu: kamala khan,
- mcu: wanda maximoff,
- mcu: yelena,
- mo dao zu shi: xiao xingchen,
- oh! my emperor: beitang moran,
- original: licyn mansbane,
- owl house: eda clawthorne,
- penny dreadful: vanessa ives,
- star trek: leonard mccoy (aos),
- star wars: merrin,
- test drive,
- the gifted: marcos diaz,
- tian guan ci fu: xie lian,
- touken ranbu: kanesada,
- umbrella academy: allison,
- umbrella academy: five,
- warcraft: anduin wrynn,
- warcraft: wrathion,
- warframe: kahl 175,
- x-men: charles xavier,
- zettai karen children: kumoi yuuri
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!
A HOUSE UNITED WILL SAND | SOILMATES | A PYRAMID SCHEME
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
no subject
( There's a point and purpose to heroes in this life, Raynor's been told. Just never damn well learned it. Martyrs die. Cults bow their heads, words remember them. It's all done and dusted within days. And then, what are you left with? Tassadar, deified but wasted. The better men, gone down.
When he shrugs, it's an absent thing, studiedly indifferent. Upstairs, they might call this 'composure.' Yeah, whatever. )
Can't leave well alone when it's staring you in the eye, can you?
no subject
( his tone turns a little sharper at the sudden judgment. it's pointless and he should just roll his eyes, walk away but it's not like he has anywhere to go to.
just turn, walk into the desert and get lost. end up dying of thirst? stupid. no, he'll just confront the whole thing. )
I was a soldier, I fought in wars. That doesn't mean I want to keep doing it. But sometimes there's no choice.
no subject
...ain't that the truth.
( Muttered, grudging but far from despairing. Coarse though his manner and their circumstances, the truth is, soldier boys don't crawl out of hell just to give the next entry to purgatory a clean wave, once-over, and pass it by.
They're designed to answer. Even Raynor's feeling the ugly bite of the call. Doesn't mean, back tense like a mean cat, he can't pretend he's deaf for a hot second. )
You, uh. Came out of something ugly, right before this?
( Might explain the instinct to get his brains fried under the midday desert sun. )
no subject
( it felt like one thing after another after another. he hadn't really had the time to process it all despite the brief stop off to therapy.
but, he does remember some of the coping strategies he'd learned there so maybe it had done its job. or maybe he just memorized everything to get the therapist off his back. )
Not that I expected a vacation or anything for it. But, I at least expected more shit to happen somewhere I'm familiar with.
no subject
Cheer up. We'll throw together the next apocalypse in your backyard.
( There's a wolfish edge to the gleaming teeth of his grin, a private, rueful understanding that permanent and complete annihilation is a routine prospect an honest man should consider with his monthly schedule.
Pencil it in between tackling ammo inventory and the laundry stack. Besides — and here it comes, the inevitable, overly friendly, unsolicited pat on the back, warm and ready — this here boy looks in need of some uplifting. )
We'll even light some fireworks for it, huh?
no subject
still, it's a nice thought. )
Looks like plenty of places to go out and buy fireworks around here.
no subject
( There you go, buddy. Live large, embrace the merits of a hearty, toothy grin. Take in the view and bask in the brilliance of captivity without the animal comforts afforded to the average house bacteria.
Sweat, blood, dubious food, minimal hygiene. No fireworks. And the kid who's been rocking back and forth to still his jitters and finally stumbles back to stomp on Raynor's feet, before submitting the world's most half assed excuse.
He accepts it with a calm nod of parental fortitude. And mutters between gritted teeth, after: )
I'm making one out of this brat soon. ( Then pointedly: ) Me, I'm a family man.
( Just... not today. Not before brat-Satan. )
no subject
( god, he hopes there's not too many kids wandering around here. he's seen a little too much of that in his life, kids being made into weapons, being forced to grow up too fast.
can one place just not do that? )
Or are you saying that's your kid?
no subject
He raises both hands outwards, both desperately keen to confirm he's still got the ground to run behind himself, and assessing that, sure. He's got nearly three heads on her.
...she'll still take him. )
...bundle o' delight? ( There, ma'am. Appeased? Good. She's turning. ) No, sir. Woke up eating dirt yesterday. Same as you.
no subject
( so they were both doing the 'what the hell is going on?' dance. this guy seems to be adjusting a little easier than bucky but —
bucky might be resisting on purpose. he's tired of being jerked around and made into the universe's plaything.
he rubs a hand over his face. )
Hope you get back to them, then. Or find something similar here if they're going to keep us here for awhile.
no subject
Wouldn't bet on it.
( Cheery, in the way of men resigned to dreadful and inevitable misfortunes that can and will smite them with stalwart impunity. It's the way of the world: one day you're rolling in your cot, counting your whiskey blessings.
...next, scorpion rashes. And the other demerits, carefully pointed with a nod toward the rest of the caravan: )
Isn't lookin' like these folks even got plumbing.
( Or acceptable transit hygiene devices. Not that Raynor's choosy, but God damn, there are things you don't want doing in the dunes. But then, nothing's right with that kind of attitude. )
You, uh... you gonna be good? ( Here, alone. Without adult supervision. )
no subject
( but yeah, he's going to be good. he waves a hand. he's always good, always gets back up, finds a way.
he'll do that here too even if he just wants to — what? go back? what's left for him there?
he sighs. )
Yeah, I'll be fine.
no subject
( He's good. In one piece. No longer... burning. Medium rare, no extra crisp. Most of his marbles stringing along, and hell, Raynor's talked to crazy, crazy's looked back at him from a mirror. He knows the likeness.
The man's eyes are clear, steady. No drugs. No alcohol. No stims. Maybe the appetite for a martyr's glory, but got no medic who'll heal you of human hubris. That's all in the soul.
And Raynor, well. He's slow, but waving back. God help them both. )
Something tells me, would be our loss to lose you. So make sure we don't.
no subject
( been there, done that, didn't want to have to come out of the ice again. it was shitty the first time and he has a feeling it'd be even worse the second time.
so, yeah, he was just going to try and avoid that. )
So, guess that means you'll see me around. How lucky for you and everyone.
no subject
Think there's worse lice hanging around.
( Pointedly, this God damned bra —
...the scorpions, half underfoot. It's them who's the trouble. Totally. Ninety-nine problems, and deadbeat kid with indignant mom isn't where you draw the line mid-desert apocalypse. Gotta keep your cool about you.
Friends close. Enemies closer. Folks you rescue outta deep frying their brains in hot sand, somewhere in between. )
If I can lend a hand, you tell me. Being neighborly.
no subject
( would he ask someone for help that he didn't know well? probably not but stranger things had happened. )
And yeah, same goes.
( making amends and all. )