the sunken | part i

[groundrules]

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.

Comments

adrienne peters ★ original ★ old timer

[pathologise]

top levels below. plotting comment is here with haunting here! general cw for alcohol abuse, trauma, nightmares, etc

★ early days [ memory loss ]

[pathologise]

( it's easy to find adrienne at the docks, keeping her aid station stocked and staffed, making sure she was in a good position to be accessed if things did go wrong. or just a friendly face for any dock workers to talk to pass the time during the day. which meant that adrienne can often be found with clean water, sometimes a snack, and always a smile on her )

It looks like it'll be a good day today.

( good weather, easy catches. though adrienne would always give hopeful messages to dock workers for their day )

[3point0]

[ Buck is docked in town for the moment, being a fearsome pirate of the Dark Companion. He spies a medic, and though he has no need for one, she catches his eye for entirely different reasons. ]

Probably.

[ He looks over at her and smiles. ]

I know we haven't met before; I wouldn't forget your face, but you do look familiar.

[pathologise]

I'm on the dock a lot.

( she wouldn't be able to medic the ships very well if she wasn't, though even though she doesn't say it there's something a little familiar about him. loosely, though. maybe he didn't dock often enough for her to recognise him? )

It's very easy to have seen me around.

[3point0]

That's probably true.

[ He extends a hand, and flips up his eyepatch. ]

I'm Buck.

[ Despite being a pirate, he doesn't seem all that rough around the edges. ]

[pathologise]

Adrienne.

( there's a polite smile given to him )

Though you haven't docked here often. I keep tabs.

[3point0]

We haven't. We're not staying all that long either, as far as I know.

Do you come here often?

[ Pirate or no, Buck is Buck. ]

★ housemates [ memory retrieval ]

[pathologise]

( though she's been friendly and communicative over the past few days, welcoming to anyone new staying in the house (or believing they'd lived together for years), that changes one night. the happier facade fading at the night draws in, her memories returning as the darkness sets in. which is when the first nightmare happens -- the haunting, the child imitating her own.

she hadn't always lived here, her life hadn't been simple-- she'd come here after the train. adrienne didn't know what was worse, that she'd forgotten her life or the pain she felt in how she'd been reminded of it. she might have wanted her pain gone but she'd never wanted to forget the people in her life--

the guilt she already felt had magnified and over the next few days she'd started drinking, avoiding the people in the house and either drinking alone or finding the equivalent of a bar before coming home very drunk. it's the next morning (or afternoon) that she can be found, very hungover, very quiet, making a very terrible lunch to just eat something )

[makemeasong]

[ Clara's been having a good time living with Adrienne—with all of them—but with everyone's memories returning it's been tense. It's why Clara's taken up residence in the kitchen, baking and offering to make meals for others. She's not bad at all, except for soufflé, which she isn't even trying again in this climate.

When Clara comes in to work on something else to distract herself and finds Adrienne looking a lot worse for wear, she bites at the inside of her bottom lip and gently steps forward. ]

Hey. So, if you wanna sit, I was just about to make lunch for everyone. And I was gonna wait to offer these at dinner but, I made fudge brownies if you wanna go with dessert first.

[ Her voice is quiet, and she offers the plate stacked with brownies to Adrienne with a touch of a smile. ]

[pathologise]

( she's still dressed in what she'd slept in, not pyjamas nor last night's clothes but a long shirt over her underwear, keeping her modest enough to run (walk slowly) between her room and the kitchen. adrienne doesn't freeze when clara spots her but she does avoid looking at her, trying to hide the fact that she'd been crying, or not slept, or just looked terrible, taking very slow sips of the glass of water as she lets the woman's words drop in.

lunch, an actual lunch and not the slice of bread she'd planning on taking, sounds like a sensible idea. and the brownies really did look good. seconds pass, not quite a minute before a hand reaches for one of the brownies, making herself drink a little more before she moves to sit at the counter )

The baking was real, then?

( she remembers other baking over the past few days but between the mess of her head and not trusting anything she isn't certain what is real )

[makemeasong]

[ Another small smile from Clara, and it settles something in her to see Adrienne sit. The only thing they have control over now is this part, and focusing on helping is what she's good at. Something she wasn't as great at when Adrienne first arrived on the train. Now that all of her memories are where they should be, it's gnawing at her, but she waits to say it, wanting to find the right words first. ]

That part was real. It's—[ With her new haunting she falters, but then continues gamely, turning to look at what she has to work with instead of daring to meet the other woman's gaze. ]—my mum and I always baked together, and having friends in one spot again, it felt good. I guess I was happy and wanted to share, and I still do. Want to share, I mean. 'Happy' is sort of off the table right now.

[ For a lot of them, she'd bet. ]

I went to the apothecary and got something for my head. It's tea and worked for me. Want some?

[pathologise]

( she leans into the counter, resting her head against one hand, the brownie finished, adrienne debating another. eating something made her realise that she was hungrier than she'd thought. when had she last actually eaten? )

Happy is-- <( she waves a hand in place of saying bullshit. she does end up pulling another brownie to her though letting it just sit by her class for a minute.

there's a bigger pause, adrienne debating whether to share something in return on a similar story, though she can't bake, though a big enough gap happens that she ends up not saying anything )

Is it just tea? Magic tea?

[makemeasong]

[ Happy is bullshit, at least right now. It’s weird how happy she had been now that she can remember. What she forgot is that it never lasts long.

She lets the quiet stay that way, not worried about filling it, and then she’s shaking her head even as she reaches for the kettle. ]

Not magic, just willow bark or something. Part of a tree, anyway. I added honey to mine because it’s really bitter. I have enough left over, you can have the rest.

( wildcard — drinking )

[traumatology]

( the last time he lived with people, he'd been in the military, shoved into too small barracks and listening to the sounds of war at night. he can sometimes still hear those sounds in his dreams but it feels far, far away.

a hazy memory.

now, he's here, fairly settled in this place with a boring job and a boring life that he doesn't mind. it's been a long time since he's seen boring.

he wants to be boring.

the sun's gone down and he's been standing near an open window, a bottle open on the sill. there's a glass that he's drinking from, trying to get some kind of buzz.

when he hears someone come into the room behind him, he holds up the glass as an invitation. )

Feel like a drink?

[pathologise]

( they'd done this before on the train, adrienne putting drinks in front of him so that she didn’t have to drink alone, not coping well with the situation that she'd been thrown into. it's similar now, her memories returned, the hauntings in the night-- it feels worse and drinking tends to be her answer )

I'll get a glass.

( she doesn't ask what he has but feels safe enough with him that it doesn't matter, she wants to be very drunk and forget again. and he's good company.

adrienne finds another glass, holding it out to him as she leans against the wall by him )

I'll try not to make you carry me to bed this time.

( the humour that should be in that sentence is lacking even if the intent is clear )

[traumatology]

( he answers that with a huff of a laugh and pours her a drink before settling the bottle back on the sill. he lifts it in a toast and then downs half of it. )

Don't worry, even as dead weight, you weren't that heavy.

( that's a...compliment? maybe. )

Bed's probably more comfortable than the floor, at least.

[pathologise]

( she lifts her glass in return before drinking a healthy chunk of it )

Maybe I'll start on the floor, see where it goes from there.

( kidding. but not. sitting on the floor felt better than standing by the window getting drunk but also there was a reasonable sofa nearby )

It'd make a change anyway. Especially without a bar.

( she definitely prefers the train at this point )

[traumatology]

( there was a reasonable sofa nearby but that would be too easy, wouldn't it? besides, he likes the view of...whatever the hell is going on outside right now.

something's on fire, probably. he takes another drink. )

We drinking for anything specific today? You have a reason? I don't have a reason.

[pathologise]

I have a reason.

( and if he really looked at her he might notice something a little more haunted behind her expression, a stronger look than what's usually there, not masked as it tends to be )

I thought being on the train was bullshit. It got worse.

( it got worse isn't the full extent of her reasoning, it's barely scratching the surface on what exactly is worse. but it's a reason )

the ghost of drunken days

[westviews]

[It's not hard to recognize when someone is not quite acting normally, even when you don't necessarily know them. Wanda's back to herself--living alternate lives is not her idea of a good time, but it's not the first time she's believed herself to be someone else--and so she's clear-minded as she watches the other woman.

No one needs to wander off and find a creative way to drown.]

Hey. You okay?

[It's a quiet, but pointed question she asks as she steps closer.]

[pathologise]

( adrienne is normally at the docks working, checking on people in a medical capacity and honestly enjoying the hours there with good company and reasonable weather.

this time she'd gotten very drunk, walking to somewhere that felt familiar even if it wasn’t the best idea, sitting cross-legged on the dock, closer to the water than she should be but not noticing it.

nor does she notice the woman until she's asking her question. and at first adrienne doesn't answer, not certain, slowly shaking her head )

I don't know what okay is.

[westviews]

[It's a hell of a response. Wanda's not really sure what okay is, either. Or when the last time she remembered what it was.]

Rough day?

[Likely more than that, she's sure.]

[pathologise]

Night... day...

( she looks up at her, wanting to see if she recognises the woman with her-- there's something pricking at her as if she might have seen her before in that false life but honestly, adrienne isn't certain she'd say she knew the people she supposedly lived with despite the memories she has.

fuzzier memories under alcohol and the pain of her real life pressing against it all )

I got very drunk.

[westviews]

Guess I don't need to ask if it was to celebrate or to cope.

[No judgement here. Wanda generally abstains because her abilities tend to feed off her emotions, and that tends to be catastrophic even when sober. Drunk? Cities would be wiped off the map.

That said, she carefully sits down beside this woman, leaving a few feet of space between them so as to keep their personal bubbles clear.]

[pathologise]

Something made me forget my life.

( the memories had slowly started drifting back in, first strange feelings, details that didn't add up and then a real shock. and then the night happened, the catalyst that had made her get up and drink. as it usually did )

I think I know what's real... but I don't.