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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"I'm not very hungry." One of the first words she's spoken since she arrived, blinking slowly as she takes the bowl back. It makes her stomach hurt just to look at it, mouth turned down in mild distaste.

"It's all a bit...much."

Because how else is she supposed to describe it? It's just...much. Ruka casts a look around, studying the huddled figures stoically. "There's a few of us, but no one seems really surprised we're here." The villagers, she means. They'd provided communication devices for them and everything. Why did it seem so prepared?

"It seems like rote habit for them, taking care of newcomers."

Agreeing, he nods and looks around at the way no one is astonished at their presence. No matter what any of them look like, the villagers don't bat an eye. His attention drifts back to the young woman and he offers what he hopes is a reassuring smile, small though it is.

"Could you stomach some clean water?"

Ruka hums lightly, acknowledgement and agreement. It's odd, though she also doesn't think they had anything to do with it. It's just...weird. She sighs and taps her forefingers against the bowl as she tries to think, but nothing from her memory is lending a reason as to why she's here. Or, specifically, why her.

His question snaps her out of her thoughts briefly to look at him, head tilted in consideration. "I think so. If I can't, then there's bigger problems, I think."

A moment's pause and then she bobs her head briefly in a bow, remembering her manners last minute. "My name is Ruka, by the way. Minazuki Ruka. If we're all kidnapped together, we should at least know each other's names."

He offers over the cup of water he hasn't yet touched, letting her have it. Once he has his hands free, sword left by his seat, he rises to bow to her respectfully.

"Lady Minazuki. Gusu Lan clan Sect Leader, Lan Xichen. Zewu-jun."

Don't worry, he sits down shortly after; he doesn't intend to make a spectacle, only to be properly polite. Xichen swats at his skirts as he sinks back into his seat, finding his bowl of soup again.

"Oh, um--" She sets her bowl aside to free up her hands a little, taking the cup and looking a bit wide-eyed as Xichen stands and bows to her. She looks like she's not sure if she should also jump up and bow as well. All those titles sound very impressive.

But he sits before she can properly make up her mind and she's left sitting there, feeling vaguely embarrassed as she sips at the water. No rolling stomach to that, so she'll accept it as all she can stomach right now.

"Do you have a preference?" To which she calls him, she means, looking at him over the rim of the cup. "I haven't heard of Gusu Lan before, but..." But that doesn't mean he doesn't get her respect. She might not remember much, if anything, or her childhood, but she knows her mother raised her to be polite.

"Gusu is the region where our clan makes their home, we live in Cloud Recesses in the mountains." He nods at their surroundings. "There are no lakes or rivers there, only at the foot of the mountain where Caiyi Town lies at the waterfront. This land is far more like Yunmeng ..."

Places she cannot know; he shakes his head apologetically.

"Address me however you wish. I'm aware we are all from ... strange realms," his smile is back, "I will not take offence."

Her fingers twitch a little and she looks around, mouth pursed before she stands. "Excuse me." Without preamble she scurries off, only to return moments later with some paper and something to write with.

She sits, carefully writing out what he's said to the best of his ability. Little notes-- Gusu Lan clan Sect Leader, Lan Xichen. Zewu-jun. Gusu = Regiona, Cloud Recesses in the mountains. No lakes or rivers except near Caiyi. Main town?

Yunmeng = Rivers, more waterways.

Lan Xichen-- Tall, long hair, white & blue robes. Forehead ribbon.

Her brow furrows in concentration, teeth chewing a little on her bottom lip as she writes, then looks up with an expression like she's a student ready for him to continue.

"So Yunmeng is on the water, or near it?"

Edited (what color are xichen's robes again at the end, ider white & blue is good enough) 2023-05-16 19:59 (UTC)

It is quite the little sight to behold, watching as she scribbles down what he has said. Is she worried, he wonders, that she will forget? He would not be mad.

"Yunmeng is a region, also. Yunmeng Jiang Clan are the ruling sect there at Lotus Pier."

He waits for her to write again, then gently asks,

"Is there a reason you are taking notes?"

Ruka doesn't look up at the question, though her pencil (or pen, or whatever they gave her) pauses mid-stroke for a second before it resumes.

"I... have an illness," she starts, glancing up at him briefly. "it's not contagious. It's endemic only to the island I lived on and its people." For now, anyhow, and also she's not at the point where it'd be contagious so, you know, not technically a lie. She looks back down at the paper.

"It's called Moonlight Syndrome and one of the symptoms is memory loss." She makes notes about it, too, as she talks, clinical and wooden, like she's reciting a medical paper. "Sleepwalking, the affliction getting better or worse with the phases of the moon, obsession with the moon, fear of mirrors, obsessive behavior, externalizing the self." A pause and she adds, "death. Eventually."

She rolls her shoulder to relieve the slight ache forming from hunching over the paper. "My recent memory hasn't started being affected, but it's an old habit from when I was first diagnosed. Just in case." Ruka looks up at him, titling her head. "If there's something you don't want me to remember, I won't write it."

Her memory was fine for now, but if it ever started progressing again... Well, she wanted to be on the safe side.

Ah, such a terrible affliction for someone so young. He nods his understanding after listening, his gaze softer.

"You may take notes on anything I say, if you wish. In return, however, I must ask you questions about your home. We are as mysterious to each other as two clams in different rivers."

"Two clams in different rivers." She echoes him quietly, looking amused before she nods.

"I don't mind. I'm afraid there's still a lot of gaps in my memory, but I'll tell you all I can. It'll help me, too." Sometimes things popped up as she talked, which helped far more than sitting and trying to think about it for hours.

"What do you want to know?"

Something that won't be too invasive, hmmm ...

"Can you tell me about your home, the island?"

Ruka's quiet for a long moment, considering what to say. "It's called Rogetsu Isle-- it means 'Hazy Moon.' It's the largest island in the Rogetsu Archipelago."

Her brow furrows slightly and she looks back down at the paper, half-heartedly sketching out a rounded stage. "Every ten years, on September 17th, there's a lunar eclipse and a special ceremony called the Rogetsu Kagura that's performed to honor the dead. A priestess and 5 Organs-- Instrumentalists--do a special song and dance. It became pretty popular.

And... Masks. It became famous for its crafts, with the mask making at its center. The masks were a huge part of the island, they were everywhere. At the Kagura, it was mandatory for everyone to wear a mask, visitors and islanders alike, and no two masks were ever the same."

"What did you decorate your mask to look like, Lady?"

He sits patiently, sipping only intermittently at his soup which holds no great interest for him. Beyond encouraging her to eat, Xichen has little appetite of his own and prefers to listen to her tales.

Ruka's pencil stills, her breath catches. In her mind she sees the flash of a mask being forced over her face and she tenses as she represses a shudder. She shakes her head.

"I don't really remember. Unfortunately, I've lost most of my childhood memories. But... My father was the master mask-craftsman on the island." She read about that, at least, shortly before arriving here, though those memories are hazy at best too. "My mother...Was one of the last shrine maidens."

Quite the lineage to live up to, honestly, and it felt a little awkward to remember. "But masks were important. You're not just wearing a mask, you're...becoming someone else. That's how they worked where I'm from, anyhow. The mask... absorbs something from what it's meant to depict. Someone who's never played an instrument in their life could wear the mask of a flutist and sudden play like a professional."

She sketches, vaguely, the image of a mask, its eyes closed, the mouth opened. It's a bit eerie, and she frowns again before continuing on. "We worshipped the moon, more or less. The sun reveals what's on the surface, but the moon is associated with what is within, like memory, the personality, and the soul. It's a doorway to the spirit world, so you had to be especially careful on nights when it's full, and even more so with the eclipse."

That is a lot of information, clauses, and warnings. He supposes that explains a great deal about her quiet and hesitant nature, growing up in a world where a mask can change a person entirely.

"You are not a shrine maiden?"

He will focus on the least perturbing part, as they just met.

Ruka smiles a little and shakes her head. "No. Unfortunately it was a dying profession when I was born; My mother was one of the last ones, but she still taught me what she knew."

Just in case, she supposes. She taps lightly on the paper, mimicking playing keys. "Some of the music they'd play, for example. And the idea of 'Moonsounds.' Everyone's soul has a different sound. It's generally weak, and may get louder or quieter depending on their mood, but it stays constant through their lives. Unless Moonlight Syndrome disrupts it. But everyone's..." She trails off, looking up as she tries to figure out how to describe it. "Everyone's made of music. It's the shrine maidens' job to hear them and play music that accompanies the sounds, to soothe or heal or whatever else is needed.

I don't remember much of it anymore, but my hearing's always been sharp and I take better to music than others usually do."

"If you would like, I can play the xiao for you."

He unhooks the white jade flute from his robes, letting her touch it if she wishes.

"Her name is Liebing."

It may not help, but it is as much as he has to offer someone who also loves music.

Edited 2023-05-17 19:11 (UTC)

She perks up, sitting up and leaning in to look at the flute. She touches, but doesn't try to take it from him, looking pleased and impressed in equal measure. "She's beautiful. Would you really play for me?"

Not that she doubts him, exactly, but. "I'd be honored. If we find a piano here, I'll play for you as thanks."

"I would like to see what a piano is."

It sounds interesting, like everything else she has revealed.

Bringing Liebing to his lips, he plays for her. The pale blue light of his qi wraps around the flute as he does so, sparkling, and shimmers peacefully into the evening where each light winks out. It has a very calming effect on the nerves, if she is experiencing any.

She sits back, thinking that it's a tragedy he doesn't know what a piano is, but a bit excited to think that she can introduce him to it. She kind of wishes she could listen to a piano for the first time again.

The experience was probably similar to this though, just awe and surprise. It feels like it seeps inside of her and she closes her eyes, tilting her head as if trying to hear it better.

When it ends she opens her eyes, blinking slowly like she's coming out of a dream. "It was beautiful. What was that blue light?"

"That was my qi, it stems from a Golden Core in a person. It is what allows us to cultivate and become better, stronger."

Xichen's cultivation is very high, he will live a long time, and like Wangji's it shimmers brightly as a result of the wholesome energy it gives off. As he re-attaches Liebing to his belt, he assesses Ruka with a subtle glance.

"Whenever you have need, I will play for you."

She seems to respond well to Clarity. That's good.

Ruka is at least aware of the idea of qi and she makes a noise of understanding. It's really a pretty song; she closes her eyes, humming as she tries to recall the melody. While she doesn't remember it with perfect clarity (no pun intended), she can remember most of it and resolves to try recreating it on the piano later.

"I'm wishing I'd learned to play something more portable now. The piano is huge and you can't bring it around with you. But I think I used to sing too." She'd been the Vocal Organ during the Rogetsu Kagura/Rite of Descent, after all, but it had been a long, long time ago when a child's singing voice was generally just 'cute' and it didn't matter if it was beautiful.

"Singing would lift the spirits of many," he comments, looking around at their similarly displaced fellows. "They would appreciate the distraction from such ... strife."

While she doesn't feel shy, exactly, she looks around the group and feels hesitation anyhow. "I don't know... I'm a lot more confident in my piano playing. I'm not sure I'm the type of person people come to see sing."

She rolls her shoulders again and leans back. "I'll search for one though, and I'll ask everyone to come listen. It'd at least be something..."

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lanclan - 2023-05-21 22:08 (UTC) - Expand

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moonsounds - 2023-05-31 14:27 (UTC) - Expand

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