westwhere | the sunken

the sunken | part i

THE SUNKEN

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Welcome to the first log of Arc VI: the Sunken, which covers 15 May – 2 June and doubles as a test drive meme.

Back/forward date as needed! The calendar date suggestions are indicative.

The TDM is open to everyone! If you decide to apply to the game, you can get an invite from current players or the upcoming enabling meme — or participate in the test drive meme and get in touch @

groundrules to chat things over. We currently have 13 slots available for new players.

Test drivers can use this post for logs and network posts — old timers, please make your network posts at

eastbound.

LOST AT SEA | TEST DRIVE TOURISTS

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You wake, gasping, in a stormy sea, your thoughts slowed to a confused trickle. Skill, floating wood or a kindly stranger — who you can’t understand — help you to reach shore.

Villagers discover you collapsed on sand and provide critical (if rickety) communication and translation devices. They say you are in Sunken Yancai, a fishing village progressively overtaken by waters and cursed by the secretive ‘ladies of the lake’ to transit through time.

■ Rescuers group newcomers and supply questionable village couture, warm meals and accommodations in abandoned, half-flooded homes or spare small boats anchored in Yancai’s waterways. Huddle up, recover your strength and don’t think too hard on why your memories are hazy over the next three days.

■ Come morning, you visit village leader Quanze Tsaymien, then the sorceress Karsa — who explains you are otherworlders summoned into Akhuras by undead lords who wish to weaponise you in their battle against humans and one another. Karsa is an associate of the Merchant, who leads otherworlders towards ancient transport beacons east.

■ One such beacon rests dormant in Yancai. The group must infiltrate the village and wait a few weeks until it shifts to a point back in time when the beacon was active.

■ Newcomers are handed passport papers with their new identities in Yancai, where they may be known as a bankrupt merchant, perpetually drunk sailor, whale hunter, raft surveyor, mermaid who has just gained their legs, crab collector... feel free to invent a dutifully ~~hilarious~~ apt role for their seaside sojourn.

OLD TIMERS | THE DRIFTING

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You dragged yourself here in a haze. You arrived long ago, as if in a dream. You were born and bred in this village. In truth, your memories of reaching lively Yancai feel nebulous and alarmingly inconsequential.

Characters are facilitated new identities and dwellings by the Merchant, or believe they have had them all along.

■ A weary Karsa warns to say nothing to party members with altered memories, until the sorcery that affects them runs its course.

■ Memory-altered characters progressively regain their memories within three to five days (by 20 May). They have their memories partially or fully back at night ( midnight to 5 a.m.). Throughout the day, memory regains can trigger migraines, eerie confusion and paranoia.

■ Hauntings begin once characters have fully regained their memories.

■ Once everyone is ‘back to normal,’ Karsa explains that Yancai periodically transits through time. The memory alterations are a magical solution endorsed by the village council, which ensures locals mentally weather these shifts. Villagers continue to blithely accept you as part of the community.

(DON'T) HOLD YOUR BREATH

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Karsa reunites the existing party and newcomers, issuing first assignments. The Merchants’s information suggests the beacon of Yancai will be online once the village travels in time within weeks. A dubious Karsa asks the party to check on the beacon, located in the former House of Commerce of the largely inundated merchants’ district. Reach it by rowing boat.

■ Villagers say the Master of Commerce, a famous musician, took precautions against intruders.

■ All ground and lower floor entryways of the palatial House were boarded to restrict flooding. To enter, pick locks or climb the putrid stairwell towards upper balconies.

■ Inside, the hissing of running water — and, in the lower levels, of thin, slippery leeches whose bite numbs your limbs, while they attempt to feed. You seem to experience pronounced vertigo when entering any decaying rooms covered in black mould.

■ The beacon is located on a dais in the basement vault room, where water rises near 1 meter. Only a few scattered scrolls and golden decorations remain among decorations, while a large ceiling carving writes, greed deafens man to the cries of his conscience; music sets him free.

■ Some tiles of the marbled floor stand out as you wade — step on one, and all doors abruptly slam shut, while dozens of obscured holes in the wall start to rapidly spill water, threatening to fill the room to the ceiling within the hour. You hear the tinny, waning sound of a village song played from a hidden source.

■ To stop the pouring water and open the doors, sing the song you hear, or find the music box that produces it amid debris on the water-covered floors. Wind it, and it plays its song in reverse, revealing the voice of a laughing elderly man who says, Depressingly, Anurr was right to worry.

■ Don’t forget to check the beacon — and report back to Karsa that it looks structurally untarnished.

THEY SLEEP

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After surprising revelations at previous citadels, Karsa tasks you to investigate just how… permanent death is in Yancai. Villagers share that their dead are buried in a strange rite at sea — part of which will take place within days.

■ The dead are ‘entombed’ in one-man sarcophagi ships with carved and chained lids that depict their likeness. These burial boats are set at sea on the first day of each season and return three months later.

■ Join the harbours around 22 May, when mourners gather to receive the burial boats. Characters must pretend to be greatly anguished relatives, acquaintances or debt collectors to join the grieving.

■ The boats float towards you, seemingly of their own volition. Gaze afar and spot a boat carrying a man in black — the same who haunts some characters — who observes until the last burial ship has reached the piers, before he disappears.

■ Sailors draw up the boats and unpeel the untouched chains and lids, to reveal… no corpses. Peer closer and find neither biological signs (stench, liquids) of discomposure, nor the magical chillness of spaces where cadavers have lingered long. Scratch marks litter the inside of some boat lids.

■ Mourners seem grateful that the waters have ‘accepted’ the bodies. Some say that their relatives whose boats have yet to return must have been stolen by the ‘ladies of the lake,’ a villainous witch coven. Speak to mourners or sailors for clues.

■ Linger long near opened burial boats, and you feel tempted to throw yourself into the sea, slowly losing consciousness — until someone rescues you.

AMONG US

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On 25 May, village leader Quanze Tsaymien drags the chained and half feral mistress Miang-si to households and Yancai’s largest market square.

The young woman, he says, was seduced by the ladies of the lake — the furtive witch coven that condemned Yancai to time travel. Luckily, the village elders have… coaxed Miang-si back onto the righteous path.

■ Miang-si is brought door-to-door to point out her 'accomplices.' Ill at ease, villagers whisper of similar witch hunts leading to false accusations and blood-curdling repercussions.

■ Both men and women are suspected and brought before Miang-si. Perhaps she takes an eerie interest in you, getting especially close to catch your scent, touch or remark on (in)visible hurts, or even dotingly kiss you. If you whisper quickly while she’s near, you might be able to ask one question.

■ If you are patient and kind to Miang-si, she briefly squeezes your hand as she withdraws. Within the hour, you find blood writ on your palm that warns, Our fat moon rises red.

■ If you are agitated, or if Quanze rushes her during your visit, Miang-si erupts into sudden, side-splitting cackling — while you find yourself croaking like a toad, or transforming into one and retaining human speech. The spell dissolves after eight hours.

■ Quanze’s long-suffering men say this sorcery breaks faster if you kiss one of the curmudgeonly emerald toads that hide in some of Yancai’s lakes. Catch one such delightful, slime-spitting creature or barter it from merchants at a costly premium.

ILL MET BY MOONLIGHT

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A full moon is set to rise within days of Miang-si’s visit, on 27 May — just as Yancai shows signs of time shifting. Villagers are prone to stilling and staring askance, seeming lost or adrift.

The village itself evolves: one moment, the same house appears freshly new, then drowned, while waterways overfill with water, then seem barren. Overall, the village deteriorates.

■ That day, the sun suffers a midday eclipse, while droves of black birds circle the woods and village outskirts, attacking those who come close.

■ The waters increasingly thicken and darken, preventing boats from entering certain waterways.

■ An exceedingly bright moon and a diffuse lunar replica rise with nightfall. Come midnight, the village is alive with the sounds of ripping, structural collapse and shrieks. Tar-covered corpses emerge from the waters, clawing on and climbing up piers. They swarm, drawing passers-by into waters to drown them. Help them — and foremost, yourself.

■ Light and fire keep the dead at bay. On some waterways, wildfire now spells, WHAT IS WET WAS WRONGED

■ Weaker alone, fresh corpses climb into your rowing boat, pretending they are innocents who seek shelter. They betray themselves by speaking very slowly, struggling to keep track of the conversation or obliviously peppering it with details of their death. They stubbornly ask questions about you, repeating your answers, and become violent if you say they are dead. Push them into the water at first opportunity.

■ Quanze Tsaymien and other men of the village take arms, urging villagers to barricade in the nearest home, harbour or warehouse and weather the night. They advise to be silent and beware the dead who imitate living voices, warning not to touch any black mould or water that suddenly appear in your home — which alert the dead of your presence within.

■ Some dead try to tear you apart, while others seek to feed you a disgusting, tar-like black mould. A small taste of it makes you sluggish and feeble for two-three hours, while an entire fistful can kill.

■ If the undead infiltrate your house, hold your breath, do not move and keep from screaming. The dead have weak sight and olfactory senses and might pass you by, as long as you stay silent. It can be more efficient to fool than kill the dead.

■ By 5 a.m., houses start to replenish themselves, gaining a new appearance, while water and mould retreat. The dead withdraw into waterways. Outside doors have been marked with blood: vertical lines tell how many living people remain inside; horizontal ones count how many within died overnight.

■ You step to seize a brave new day — while Yancai enters a new time period (further details due in the next plot update).

NOTES

■ The game enabling meme goes up on 25 May.

■ Hit up available NPCs here or in their new inbox!

■ QUESTIONS.

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A. Lost At Sea

She drifts. She drifts and she dreams and she lays on the sand not waking for what feels like eternity.

When she finally awakens, she just follows along with a sense of having missed something. It's a terribly familiar feeling, honestly, and she's not sure what to do with it, except to follow along with the villagers who help her.

She says nothing the entire time, quiet and watchful, almost unnervingly so. The first words she utters are a quiet, "thank you," when she accepts food, though she only sits with it in her lap. She feels hungry, but only vaguely. It's not enough to make her actually feel like eating.

The explanations wash over her and, while she's sure she's not dreaming, she's not sure how much of 'reality' this is either. It's disorienting.

"A traveling musician and a singer... I suppose it's not terrible. It's not far off." She mutters aloud as she looks at the passport before she puts it away, staring straight ahead. "This could all be worse."

It's said matter-of-factly, like perhaps if she says it out loud it will make it more true.

B. They Sleep

Nothing good comes from empty caskets like that. Ruka lingers with a frown, watching the burial boats with a growing sense of unease. That can't be all there is to it, is there? She supposes she can't say anything against their burial beliefs though. Better than whatever her island home had going on.

But as she lingers, she feels that odd, uneasy feeling tugging at her very soul, drawing her closer to the water's edge. She doesn't look in, very deliberately avoiding it so as not to see her warped face in her reflection. Moonlight Syndrome meant failing to recognize oneself in a reflection, and she didn't want to aggravate it.

That doesn't mean she's safe though.

She sways, her eyelids feeling heavy and her vision tunneling to a pinpoint before she begins to collapse, likely headed right for a collision with the water unless someone grabs her.

C. Ill Met by Moonlight

She hates the moon.

The full moon brings a familiar frenzying feeling, a desperate need to be up high, high, high and close to it. It's not a strong urge--her Moonlight Syndrome hasn't advanced at all--but the pull is there. It makes her breath catch and a feeling of primal fear well up in her at the eclipse. It's wrong.

As if driven by instinct she goes to wherever a piano might be set up--an inn or tavern for the locals? Someone's house she breaks into? Who knows, there's a piano SOMEWHERE and Ruka has found it. She plays, calm and gentle at first, and then growing increasingly desperate as her mind fails to remember the entire thing. It loops and lingers, haunting, but beautiful.

It works on some corpses, but maybe not others. Some still try to get in where she is, while Ruka plays on and on until her fingers ache, until they crack and bleed and still she plays.

Those with memory issues might find themselves starting to remember bits and pieces of things they wouldn't normally when the music plays. Even those without memory problems might find themselves resonating with the music, conjuring up some kind of memory and feeling.

But the music doesn't work on all of the corpses and they'll quickly overrun her if someone doesn't help out sooo you know. Get on that please chopchop.

D. Wildcard

The 'Everything Else' option!

Edited 2023-05-16 00:51 (UTC)

( Grip gnarly, like hooking fish and drawing the load in — he's seen crook-backed louts do the work like ants here, milling across the harbour lines, gaze dull like black ice. Looks simple, and she's a slim, slip of a nothing, is girlie — just wilting down, and Kanda, well.

He's a gentleman after every thug's swooning heart. Kindly — )

Go drown where no one's got to smell your corpse after. ( A tell-tale, petulant sniff, as if she's rot-touched already, and not the wealth of dubiously fresh fish enthusiastically peddled by nearby merchants. Like hell you let your Finder waste good coin on this swill and spillage.

There's talk of corpses, and they're absent. Talk of beacons, and no platform to be found. Talk of reliable, sturdy companions — and he's stuck giving ol' daffodil's arm a parting wrench. )

Can't put one foot in front of the other?

[She feels dizzy, mind a whirl. One moment she's falling, and then next she's being pulled upright again. She jerks awake, blinking slowly as she finds herself on her feet again. She only has enough sense to think 'don't fall' and fix her feet and legs firmly.]

What?

[she shakes her head and rubs a hand over her forehead, brow furrowed] What happened?

You did.

( The most unimpressed a cutting blade of a person has ever sounded in times ancient, modern or eternal. He hisses, mouth a tight line, but arm steady, watchful until she seems to have remarried gravity and settled into the burgeoning romance.

One step at a time, you good-for-nothing portrait of anemia, you talking head on straw sticks. Girls. Glance once and they've wilted, twice and they'll break your neck. Never a compromise. )

Marbles stopped rattling in your head?

Claire may be over fifty, but she lives in the backwoods and knows how to swing a machete. It isn't a machete that connects with a corpse but a piece of rebar about as heavy as her axe at home, and she swings again, then kicks at another.

In the second long lull, in the moment just before she speaks to the young woman, Claire remembers Geillis of all people, charging to kill her and ending up with no head on her shoulders to show for it.

"Come with me, we need to get indoors." Panting, she reaches for her hand, even while clocking more of the undead heading their way.

She's fought the dead before, but they were spirits then. It was much easier to dodge them; these guys were heavier, more weight, and didn't just give up once a certain distance or a closed door was put between them.

Ruka feels exhausted, though she starts in surprise as Claire comes swinging in--literally and figuratively-- to the rescue. "Y...Yes! Thank you!" She takes the offered hand and gives it a squeeze as she hurries to get away.

"Is there any safe space from them?"

It's a valid question, but one she feels better about answering inside. She's figured out staying away from walls is key, and she's holed herself up in the apothecary where she can get to things she needs for the women who are still going into labor.

"We'll make one, but not out here." How old is this young woman? Claire squeezes her hand back reassuringly and keeps hold of her so they don't get separated. She isn't looking to fight, she tries to stay as out of sight as possible, but sometimes that can't happen.

"We need to make it there," she says as she points into the distance, at a solid looking building about a hundred yards in this distance. "Can you run?"

This is all very surreal for Cal, as well, though he rolls with it. That's something he's good at, after all, and if showing up on a different planet is what he has to deal with then he will.

But he also takes time to look after some of his new group, especially anyone who seems like a loner. It's how he finds a young woman, keeping to herself, so he sits down next to her and leans in to speak quietly. "We should start a roadshow. They've made me a traveling magician."

She watches him approach and sit down, but her expression is curious rather than guarded or wary. The offer startles her a little and she huffs a quiet laugh, amused.

"Are you a magician?"

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the sunken | part i

Ruka Minazuki | Fatal Frame 4 | tourist

they sleep

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lost at sea

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