a little dream of her | part i

[groundrules]

A LITTLE DREAM OF HER

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This is the first of two logs covering the Dream county travel Arc — it stretches until 23 April OOCly and covers roughly one IC week. There is an entirely optional wedding mystery plot, which will depend heavily on information gathering, sharing and deduction, rather than on supernatural powers.

Boarding scenarios for existing and new characters are covered under the Old Timers and New Arrivals header, respectively. Click on the tabs for details!

OLD TIMERS

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Absorbing Wrath, Licyn and Yelena’s feedback, King Deimar of Alem decides against joining his brother Haiva in ‘noble sacrifice’ to hell. Good news for the party, who depends on royal savvy to reach Alem’s otherworld transport beacon, buried in the labyrinthine tunnels beneath crumbling Alem.

■ Deimar and his paladins guide small groups back to the beacon — but the keypoint’s war-drained energies only let a handful of party members out. Characters who have dropped or been swept by AC during Arc VI go home. You can also canon update your character now.

The party must heads onwards east, boarding a dreamy train at a station near Hassir. Here, find exotic stalls with wares once intended for Alem — from the latest travel fashions, to unlucky artefacts, heavy alcohol and narcotics. You can even purchase a domestic ghost.

Whether the Merchant supplies a ticket or false staff uniforms for you to proactively sneak aboard, don’t dally — this train runs like clockwork.

NEW ARRIVALS

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You wake up to claustrophobia, ash and gravel in your mouth — and a sense of urgency: run. Midway through a slovenly, rattling underground corridor, you meet an irritable woman, who leads you out, at the foot of a serene, smoke-topped mountain.

The woman passes you a pendant that allows you to understand her and to communicate with others like you. You are one of many otherworlders brought into Akhuras by undead lords who seek to weaponise you, as they battle humans and each other for dominion. Don’t believe her? Look up. The holy citadel Alem yet burns before the dead armies of Rahakku.

The woman is Karsa, an associate of the elusive Merchant, who collects and leads otherworlders east, where ancient beacons can transport them home.

Regrettably, you’re late — you arrived with the unexpected last gasps of Alem’s dying beacon and must now catch up with the others, who’ve departed on the Sandman train express.

WHY THE LONG FACE?

Karsa barters for a carriage led by two nightmare horses, along with several such steeds for confident riders. These are mercurial mounts and dizzyingly fast — your only shot to reach a train travelling through Dream county.

■ Karsa warns you must not fall asleep during travel. The horses will invade your nightmares, consuming your vital energy while you suffer asleep.

■ Talk at all times or sound the shrill silver bells Karsa provides to wake up any sleepers.

You reach the seaside village of Kyari, where you must board the incoming Sandman express. Regrettably, the horses have left Karsa with just enough coin for one ticket for the wounded Dean Winchester. Everyone else: make do.

You must also help Karsa sneak in fist-sized, forbidden dream boxes. Try to avoid the Sandman’s guards and their canine sentries, who scent newly boarding passengers for such contraband. Return the boxes to Karsa once on the train.

You’ve got 45 minutes to board, once the Sandman reaches its rustic station. Some options?

■ Play stowaway and break the rustier locks of the economy class cars.

■ Sweet talk the depressed Conductor. You bought, but just… forgot your ticket.

■ Distract the guards while your group boards, so they can sneak you on after.

■ Plant dream contraband on another would-be passenger, when the dogs draw close.

■ Ride one of those god-forsaken horses and jump on top of the train once it starts moving, then make your way in through ceiling hatches. God help.

A fully veiled young woman might lend you a hand.

THE SANDMAN

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All aboard… the Sandman, a majestic 100-car train that gallops on an emaciated railway across Dream county. Ghosts and dream residents wave as it passes by.

The Sandman stops once after leaving Alem, at seaside village Kyari, before crossing the abyss of the Cradle — the turbulent, storm-prone birthplace of dreams, where it is constantly night-time.

Some say the Cradle is only a cauldron for those who steal dreams or make them into living things. Others say the Cradle has its own mind.

To avoid igniting dream storms, passengers are strictly prohibited from carrying dream tokens and performing dream magic. Characters find their powers are significantly reduced while travelling on the Sandman.

New arrivals join the Sandman at Kyari with group caretaker Karsa, who introduces them to the old party.

■ The Sandman offers exquisite single-person compartments with en-suite bathrooms for First Class passengers, while Second Class travellers share generous cabins in pairs, and up to four voyagers can bunk up in… cozy Third Class cabins. Shared bathrooms and a small sauna cabin are also available.

■ You can hide in the staff, luggage or coal stock rooms.

■ You can decide your character’s First/Second/Third Class, staff or stowaway status. (Pick a job for staff!)

■ The LOST & FOUND booth contains an assortment of clothes and items forgotten by passengers, which you can raid (within reason). Latest findings: cigarettes, medical-grade opiate powders, a a beautiful green dress and pink striped men’s suit, all brought in after the Sandman leaves Kyari.

■ Amenities range from dining & bar carts to game, exercise and cinema halls where the (PG-13!) pleasant dreams you’ve gambled away can be viewed freely, or passengers can hold recitals or seminars.

■ You can gamble in regular currency or pleasant dreams (not memories).

■ Travellers are polite and social. You learn early on that you share a voyage with renown heroine and First Class passenger Firo, who, alongside her friends and sister party, picks up her bride Prassenze from Kyari.

■ Within two hours of leaving Kyari, the sky begins to darken, becoming pitch black and occasionally loudly stormed. It stays a starless night time throughout your journey over the Cradle.

■ For communal safety, windows and doors are locked and magically enforced shut after the train departs Kyari. The nightmare storms within the Cradle region crackle with highly chaotic energy that can (re)shape reality, endangering passengers. Deputy conductor Michel Bauc holds the window and door keys. An irritating, tinny, train-wide alarm sounds if anyone tries to force a window open.

■ You might sometimes find fellow passengers trying to exit the train or open the windows to join the storms, while they nap. Do wake up them up.

■ Whether you’re an insomniac or don’t typically need sleep, you find you fall instantly asleep at midnight and awaken refreshed by 8 a.m.

■ A skeletal crew serves the Sandman at night. The most authoritative figure is gloomy Conductor Rossakoff, who slinks silently across the train.

THE MENU

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Trot down to the dining carts for an unforgettable meal included with your ticket. Formal evening attire is expected during dinner. Some courses are lightly sparkled with stimulants that deepen certain aspects of diner’s emotions during the meal — this is not disclosed ICly, but visible to you OOCly in the menu. (ex: the Ham and Laughter Eggs triggers roaring laughter and a good disposition ).

   BREAKFAST

   SUPPER & DINNER

   SNACKS & BEVERAGES

DREAM SMUGGLERS

The new arrivals helped Karsa bring contraband aboard, but they’ve steps to go to their final destination. The sorceress doles out fist-sized boxes containing precious dream fragments of happiness, sadness, fear, surprise, anger, guilt or disgust — explicitly prohibited cargo that regains its magical properties once aboard the Sandman.

Each box comes with instructions for drop off under a dining hall table at midday, under a roulette table by 6 p.m. or in the coal room by 8 p.m. Karsa says the deliveries are an explicit favour from the Merchant to an old (dream thief) friend aboard the Sandman.

■ Pair up for your run! Those who hold dream boxes feel their emotions to a player-chosen degree of intensity, throughout their adventure.

■ Beware the vigilant guards of the Sandman, who run frequent searches for illicit dream artefacts. Some bring dream-catching dogs who catch the scent of the dreamed things.

■ You may feel unusually sleepy while holding dream boxes. Doze, and you wake up to find your dreams have summoned a wo/man, child or animal whose temperament embodies the box’s emotion. They can’t help drawing attention, but slowly disappear within 30-60 minutes — wait, are those the guards?

■ Caught smugglers are locked into ‘jail’ cabins, while their contraband is placed in the office of Conductor Rossakoff. First-time captives can be bailed out at ludicrous expense or in exchange for maid service, but repeat offenders are jailed
for the rest of the voyage. Liberate your dream box back from the Conductor’s strangely barren, otherwise untouched compartment.

■ Successfully delivered boxes feed into the mystery of the missing bride. You mysteriously fall asleep to a sweet dream if you wait to meet the collector — and wake up to a feeling of wrongness, as if reality is mute and diffuse around you, before your hearing and vision resettle.

THE GROUNDHOG WEDDING: A MYSTERY

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Firo’s bride Prassenze boards the Sandman from Kyari. She comes alone, veiled head to toe, and only brings a modest case. She is short, thin, pale and shy, prone to silence and retiring to her cabin at the earliest opportunity — a far cry from boisterous Firo.

…so much so that Firo’s sister Lita and friends Dulcinea, Maiza and Attru tell anyone who’ll listen that Firo is marrying this girl after courting her for six months through correspondence. Even bashful Hugo admits the pair is… perhaps a little mismatched. This is their first in-person encounter.

■ The wedding party members plead or offer coin for you to coerce the loving pair to delay their marriage — or to sabotage the wedding, due to take place in two days.

■ An enthusiastic Firo meanwhile asks if you can help with celebratory clothing or wedding ornaments.

■ Shortly after, Lita appears lost in her thoughts and altogether not there, clutching a letter in hand, the day after the Sandman departs Kyari.

HERE COMES THE BRIDE... AGAIN

1.0

No one forgets their wedding night — least of all brave Firo, who, vows performed, makes merry with her group and timid bride over a magnificent feast in the dining halls. Everyone is invited.

The blushing bride is visibly infatuated with Firo, but overwhelmed by the loud, relentless social activity. She hardly speaks to anyone, other than Firo, whose friends complain increasingly loudly that Prassenze is aloof, a cold fish, and thinks herself above them.

Prassenze excuses herself to freshen up in her cabin. Nearly an hour’s absence later, a worried Firo checks up on her — finding the bride’s compartment locked from the inside. Once the door is forced open, the partygoers — and you? — discover the inside stormed, bridal veils discarded on the floors, and windows widely open as the Cradle’s nightmare tempests rage.

The bride has vanished.

Terrified, Firo questions everyone in earnest, accepting your assistance to find Prassenze.

2.0.

You wake up next morning to find everyone reliving the same wedding day, which only fellow otherworlders recall. Squinting outside, you see new landscape — suggesting the Sandman has covered a day’s journey.

The bride Prassenze is present again, but sharply different in appearance and manner. Now, she is closer to Firo in size, her build athletic. Her manner is brusque, assertive, commanding. Some in Firo’s group are put off, others frightened. Firo appears a little taken aback by her bride’s domineering nature.

During the second wedding, a drunk Maiza and Dulcinea quarrel with Prassenze, who doesn’t back down. A frustrated Firo tries to break the fight, verbally lashing out at her friends for drinking and at Prassenze for stooping to their intoxicated level.

Prassenze storms to her cabin. She is once more found missing, when searched. As before, her compartment was locked from the inside, the window is wide open, and her veils have been abandoned.

3.0.

You wake up to a third wedding day, with only party otherworlders recalling the past two days. Prassenze looks and acts differently from the first and second wedding day — now she is of average build and height, with an especially jovial, overly friendly manner, prone to laughter and pranks. This time, she drinks with Firo’s friends, plays (and wins!) at many of their card and dice games, humours their stories and even flirts — but is so devoted to Firo’s group that she accidentally neglects Firo herself throughout the day. Firo repeatedly tries to coax her to spend time together, but fails, and abandons her during the wedding feast — perhaps meeting you for a drink instead?

Realising she has driven Fire away, a distressed Prassenze once more withdraws into her compartment at the end of the (third) wedding night — and disappears, leaving the same clues behind as on the first and second wedding day.

There are no further repetitions and time passes regularly after the third wedding day. The morning after, apothecary passenger Rigolante mentions asks Conductor Rossakoff to conduct a search, as some of his herbs and measuring tools have gone missing.

■ Player characters can change events and investigate during the second and third groundhog wedding days. Regrettably, Prassenze still disappears.

■ Non-PC characters and the Sandman’s crew only recall the third wedding day.

■ Conductor Rossakoff says the number of dreamers whose dreams help propel the Sandman during the obligatory midnight-8 a.m. nap — what do you know, you were helping all along! — has stayed the same since leaving Kyari, meaning the bride is alive on board. No one seems able to find her… help a distraught Firo find her missing wife!

CAST & CREW

	FIRO Good-humoured, sincere and just heroine, renown for her many feats of bravery — from rescuing villages to outwitting sphinxes and challenging immortals. Loud and prone to laughter. Quick to tell everyone about her beloved Prassenze.
	CONTESSA LITA Doting older sister of Firo, married to a Count who prefers a quiet life at his countryside estate. Preposterously wealthy and fashionable. Life of every party.
	MAIZA Once a gifted mathematician, Maiza quickly realized there is more money for the modern man to make from his brawns than his brains. After retraining as a barbarian, he served as muscle (and accountant) during many of Firo’s adventures..
	ATTRU The prince of a distant land, some say descended from wolves. Walks among men to learn their ways. Looks young, but will mention at least three wives and five children in the first five minutes of conversation. Smooth.
	DULCINEA Redeemed mercenary, who once used to sell her sword to anyone with the coin to spare — some say, even the dead! Turned an honest leaf after meeting Firo, of whom she is very protective. At times still sinister at her edges.
	HUGO A pilot turned priest, or a priest turned pilot. Met Firo during his many travels. Soft-spoken, mild-mannered, but jittery, with the kind of thin nerves that suggest he has survived numerous fraught circumstances.
	RIGOLANTE An apothecary of exotic drugs and herbs. He had hoped to make his fortune in Alem, but arrived just as the fortress crumbled, before he could sell enough of his wares. Prays he will find better fortune east.
	CONDUCTOR ROSSAKOFF The gloom and doom of the Sandman, eerily tall, slinking and silent. Passengers prefer to deal with deputy conductor Michael Bauc because of Rossakoff’s intimidating and discouraging presence. Takes a hard stand on smuggling or passenger misbehaviour and all but worships the Sandman.
	PRASSENZE The all-veiled bride of Firo, boarding at Kyari. Not once, not twice, but thrice disappeared.

IC TIMELINE

Day 01: Boarding at Hassir/Alem (morning)

Day 03: Boarding at Kyari (midday); within two hours of departing, the Sandman starts journeying on the railway above the abyssal Cradle — the sky is pitch black at all hours, nightmare storms rattle the train.

Day 04: Lita begins to behave airily, as if she’s not quite present.

Day 05: First wedding (16:00) and wedding feast (19:00)

Day 06: Second wedding (16:00) and wedding feast (19:00)

Day 07: Third wedding (16:00) and wedding feast (19:00).

Day 08: Rigolante asks Conductor Rossakoff to enforce a search for his missing herbs and recipients.

QUESTIONS

NPC THREADS

Comments

[valeas]

Emilia di Carlo does not always charge at things like a snarling bull. True, that may (nearly) always be her first instinct, but she's learned the art of patience, and more importantly, knows Wrathion a fair bit.

After resting for the better part of two days, she feels like herself again. She's learned of the renowned heroine they share a voyage with, and also the comings and goings with regards to the beacon.

She decides to send him a missive first.

Do you care for company?

She won't take it personally if the answer is no, but she asks nonetheless.

[blackscales]

Wrathion has a burning desire to say no, but the unfortunate thing is that if you reject company that in and of itself is revealing. No doubt some people, those who know he was close to Anduin and either know or suspect he has left, already realise something may be wrong. Perhaps his... seclusion is equally telling.

He likes to think he can put on a good show of being fine, but sometimes there is only so much you can do in the face of evidence.

I can make the time for you. Tell me when would suit.

A mild enough answer, in the end. It is, after all, a sentiment he has expressed to her before.

[valeas]

It does not really answer if he cares for company, but it does answer that he wouldn't mind it terribly. She wouldn't want to infringe on his space if it's solitude he requires, but at the same time, it feels wrong not to reach out to him after how helpful he has been to her and how much she does care.

Later this evening?
Wrath will be off with Five, and there is a piece of clothing I've been working on I'd like your advice on.

For most of her life — what she thought was most of her life, prior to learning there was a whole lifetime erased — Emilia sewed most of her own clothing, the closet itself meager. She has some skill, but nothing like Wrathion's.

If nothing else, it will provide a distraction.

[blackscales]

Oh well, of course if the topic is clothing then that is acceptable. Not that there was anything else Emilia might want to speak to him of, anyway. Nothing of note has ever come between them.

The idea of Five and Wrath potentially being up to something stirs unease somewhere in the pit of his stomach, but he sets it aside. He's aware he's not alone in his mistrust, but has no particular evidence now that there's anything worth worrying about immediately.

This evening will suit me.

As if it might not have, as if he might have an incredibly busy schedule on this train full of. Activities. Other visitors. Tasks to complete.

He doesn't, but we never admit that.

Let me know when you are on your way.

You know, giving him time to make sure he's composed. Straighten his hair and makeup. All that.

[valeas]

I will.

Emilia could do with the distraction herself, really. Ever since that day at the snowy inn Wrath was able to spear into her mind, memories have been slipping through the crack they created.

She doesn't always know how to feel about them.

And she's had more than enough rest. Idleness does not suit her.

With that in mind, she gives Wrathion his fair warning, and brings herself to knock on his door. She carries with her a bag that looks deceptively too small. Bless Lily Evans and her extension charms.

[blackscales]

Wrathion is neatly turned out when he answers the door, hair arranged in artful waves and clothing unwrinkled. His day coat has detailed embroidery on it, gold ribbon along the edges and geometric patterns picked out on the loose folds of fabric. He nods to her, steps aside to allow her in. The droid sits up immediately, studies her with unblinking intensity but does not move otherwise.

"I presume your quarters are as cramped as mine."

More so if she is sharing with Wrath, he at least has this limited space to himself.

He knows its a train but really, if first class is this small what are the other rooms like? He dreads to think.

[valeas]

(He is always quite the sight, isn't he?)

Emilia eyes the droid with curiosity as she steps inside. It reminds her of the one that was assigned to Wrath, along with his role as detective. Serthica feels so very far away now.

"They're the same size, but really, I'm grateful for the bed alone."

It isn't the bed that would be awaiting her at House Wrath, a bed that she could roll across at least three times and not topple off of. But it's vastly preferable to the cramped Wards.

"The scenery... needs work." To say the least.

[blackscales]

When you can choose your appearance, it's really a sin to waste it. Why choose to be perilously handsome then squander it with ill fitting or unflattering clothing?

He closes the door behind them, gesturing for Emilia to choose a place to sit.

"Sleeping comfortably is more of a luxury than I'd prefer. Please, can I offer you something?"

Tea, or something stronger. He really doesn't mind either way. Emilia is his guest, and he's doing his best to... host, as much as one can in a miniscule room on a train. He moves over to where the cups and glasses are, ready to select whatever she chooses.

"You mentioned you were looking for advice," he adds.

[valeas]

Emilia give the gentle shake of her head. As he seeks to accommodate her, she seeks not to give him too much trouble. If she didn't know any better, she would think nothing — no one — is amiss.

But she does know. Some of them are simply well-versed in deception, or perhaps Anduin's absence has yet to be processed. She can't claim to know either way, and it's a strange position to find herself in: to know someone may be hurting, yet wanting to respect their right to privacy. Their right to deal with such hurt.

At his prompting, she lowers herself down on the lounging couch, and sets the extension bag at her side. From it, she pulls out a dress that is utterly in tatters. The material is exquisite, however. It's almost easy to picture the layers of black panels that once gathered at the hips and flowed to the ground in frothy midnight waves. She holds in her hand the tiny smoky gems that'd once been sewn in, and the metal corset the top consisted of is... more or less intact. It's really the skirts of it that seem unsalvageable.

"I arrived in this dress. The salt mines of Sa-Hareth, needless to say, were not the place for it. There are mending spells and whatnot, I know. But I keep wondering if I should maybe do create new with the different parts."

She sets it all down for him to appraise, if he'd like. The gems themselves are from the underworld, so nothing quite like it exists in mortal realms. A close approximation might be hematite, if it glinted as lethally.

[blackscales]

He sets a small teapot onto the table, touching one hand to the side of it and sending a whisper of magic to heat the liquid within. A cup for himself follows a moment later, stood waiting for it to be ready. Turning back to Emilia he tilts his head at the dress, moves closer to begin inspecting the damage.

"That depends," he offers, "on how much the original meant to you. Clothing is, in the end, all just fabric sewn together in different ways. How it makes you feel is what is important. Or, perhaps, how it made you feel. Sometimes that can be lost too. We can change, and our garments remain in the past. That usually does mean it is time for something new, or at least an update."

Wrathion's tone is quiet, subdued, perhaps thoughtful on this topic. Perhaps thoughtful in general, over the matter of change and loss. He takes the dress carefully and lifts it, fingers moving through the layers of the skirt.

"So what does this mean to you?"

If it's just a dress, she could easily make something else. If it was given to her by someone important, worn at an important moment, if it represents something -- then perhaps it might be worth saving the original. Repairing it as best it can be repaired.

[valeas]

The hint of a smile almost touches her lips at the ease with which he heats the tea with magic. Familiar to her, warm in more ways than one, and a reminder that not all of their power has been dampened.

But the question lowers her gaze, attention snagging once more on the material of the dress. The tips of her fingers trace over the thorny vines that cover the metal corset. Those vines are hers, as surely as the color is a reminder of House Wrath, a merging of their two wills. But it was gifted to her by Pride, back when she truly believed it was him she would marry. She remembers her past with the two brothers much better now.

"A reminder more bitter than it is sweet."

Of her past inexperience and naivety. Of sorrow and grief unfounded. The darkness she was kept in, so that she would not see. She hasn't entirely come to terms with it, her family's betrayal.

"Perhaps you are right, and I would like something different."

A merging of who she was when she first wore the dress, and who she is now. She looks to him with some thoughtfulness of her own, his demeanor noticed. "How does it make you feel? What you wear."

[blackscales]

His eyes lift from the dress to hers, and there's a momentary pause. Just long enough for him to be weighing up his answer, how much to say.

"I've always found it important to look the part. Being seen the way we wish to be seen is half the battle of becoming who we want to be."

He releases the dress, half folds his arms as he considers Emilia.

"Sometimes it works, sometimes it does not."

Emilia would be the best judge right now of his success at this point, of how well he is playing the part. Handsome, roguish prince entertaining a guest who seeks his advice. He thinks he's doing well enough, but Emilia has the unexpected advantage here of knowing him better in very particular ways. Enough that her attention has likely followed him closer than some of the others.

Something they are still successfully not talking about, because there is nothing to discuss.

[valeas]

I believe I'm powerful, therefore I am.

Emilia's been introduced to such logic and the importance of presentation, the confidence that comes with trusting yourself and your power, with emanating it for others who would dare mess with you. She's also been taught that to survive the schemers of the Seven Circles, one must make themselves difficult to read. They'll always want to know their enemy, and half the trick is to deprive them of the knowledge.

But Wrathion is no enemy, nor a riddle to be solved. He is her friend, one she would like to help, but there's also the understanding she can't force it, either. Her gaze is thoughtful, if not probing.

He would do well in her realm. Whether that's a good thing or not ...

"Sometimes there are circumstances beyond our control," she acknowledges.

"I don't think anyone will hold it against you if it were ever to falter."

If he wasn't at his best and needed time.

[blackscales]

"Very little here is within our control," he counters. "The territory is not our choice, the timing, the positions we take."

All chosen for them by their current benefactor, The Merchant. He feels an ache in his chest, remembering Anduin coming to him in Ellethia. Remembering his anger and frustration at the Merchant, the way he'd sat on the ground with him.

"You are very kind," he allows, "but I think we both know the truth of it. There is rarely time to falter. We can only press on."

Letting his guard down now, in any way, only risks them being caught out or taken advantage of. Respite here barely lasts, and he doesn't even trust that this train journey won't end by encountering something unpleasant.