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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'Cause there's a reason.

[ Clara reaches for the tin of cookies. If he isn't going to have any she will, because she needs something to fidget with while she talks. And she traded her mother's ring to help in Alem, so cookies it is. ]

The short version is that there are a bunch of different 'mes.' Some call themselves Clara, sometimes I call myself Oswin, apparently. But it's still me. Same face just a different version living a totally different life. Like alternate universe versions of me. Those bits are scattered all over time, all over space. So, if you saw me, I believe you.

[ She avoids saying she died for now, hoping they can avoid that conversation altogether. ]

A bunch of different...yous.

( he says it slowly but he doesn't sound like he's doubting her. even as his memories seem to elude him, he finds that he can't really doubt what she says.

still, it's...strange. )

Clone?

[ She tries to figure out a way to explain that's the least confusing. It takes her a second to think. But she can answer the first question easily. ]

No, not cloned. I was sort of...born everywhere, all at once.

[ It still hasn't gotten easier to talk about. How does she explain that it felt like her soul was burning and she was terrified yet doesn't regret it? Clara fidgets a little, scratching at the side of her head before letting out a breath. ]

It's a really complicated thing.

[ Looking at Bucky, she tries to offer a smile but it's small. ]

Have you ever done something for someone and maybe no one else can understand why you would—maybe not even that person—but you know. You know why you did it, and the rest doesn't matter?

Yeah.

( he admits that after a quiet moment, after wondering if he should admit it but he's done things like that before. done it without thinking because he just knows that it's something that has to be done.

he sighs heavily. )

I don't think your name was either of those things when I met you. I can't...really remember what it was but it wasn't those. I know that.

[ Clara is quiet for a beat, then gets up and sits on the same couch with him. Enough of a distance is still between them as she makes herself comfortable. Facing Bucky, her back is against the arm of the couch, knees drawn to her chest with arms around them. She isn't sure why she moved closer, but his answer was unexpectedly honest and she doesn't want him to feel alone. Or maybe she doesn't want to feel alone. ]

I can't be sure I know everything about my echoes. That's what I call them. I just know they're out there and waiting for the day they meet someone who'll need saving.

[ And whatever life they're leading, whoever they are and whatever they call themselves, they'll find the Doctor and give whatever part of themselves needed to ensure the stars don't go out. ]

Who was she to you? I mean, out of curiosity. Obviously, she was cute and a damn delight, but do you remember anything else?

No.

( and he doesn't know if he can't remember because they weren't close or because he couldn't access those memories. he doesn't know and he hates that. )

I just know I've seen you before. A long, long time ago.

( a different life. )

She was cute and a damn delight, yeah. But that's all I got.

[ Clara laughs softly, dropping her head so that her hair falls in front of her face for a second. Who was that version of her? Was she happy? Did she make Bucky happy? Was her life a good one, and did she live? ]

Some great things never change.

[ When she looks up, hair gets pushed back and she smiles with dimples, even with lingering questions, things he probably can't answer. It doesn't seem like there's a point in pushing for more detail, all of them are so messed up in the head, and she has no idea how much deeper it goes for him. But she's satisfied with what she does know, save for what she might've done for the Doctor. ]

I wonder if she's one of the lucky ones who got to live. I know some do, we don't always die. But I think those are the ones who lived on different planets.

[ God, her life is weird. And it isn't until she says parts of it aloud that she even realizes. ]

I couldn't tell you.

( he's got the one wisp of memory and that's it. if she was alive somewhere, he wouldn't be the one to tell her. maybe she is, maybe she isn't. hopefully she's okay.

he shrugs. )

Maybe she's out there, living her life. I'd hope so, at least. Or at least lived a long life.

( he doesn't think that she'd gotten too tangled up with him so she hadn't had to worry about all his nonsense. )

[ She shouldn't want to know so much, she doesn't really get anything out of it. But when she dreams, sometimes there's the odd snatch of something that doesn't make sense, and she can't help wondering if it's another life. ]

For how infinite the universe is, it can be small sometimes. What are the odds of you meeting another person with the exact same amazing face you met in—[ There's something she's curious about for sure: past or future her? ]—what time period was it?

[ She only knows of one because of Artie & Angie's internet sleuthing: Victorian London. ]

World War I.

( so, you know, long time ago. )

Guess she liked military men or something. I didn't really ask. I can't really remember much of that time.

I mean, appreciating people in uniform definitely sounds like me.

[ Even if it isn't, in fact, her. She doesn't know that for sure and she flashes him a quick, dimpled grin. But it fades, as she looks at Bucky curiously. ]

How long have you lived here, do you know?

Here?

( he doesn't know why that question bothers him until...he does. it's because he can't quite reach the answer. he knows it's there but he has no idea if it's right.

he frowns, brow scrunching. )

Awhile, I think. Long enough to be settled. To have a carp.

[ She can't help the laugh that bubbles out of her, dimples showing before clearing her throat. ]

Sorry, I just really love the idea of you and your pet carp.

[ When Clara tries to tell him in kind, she realizes her own time line feels nebulous. ]

Me too, though. Long enough for people to trust me with trading information.

[ 'Gossip' is what she usually calls it to keep things light. But the things these people say about one another are both high drama and mysterious. ]

( the carp even has a name but he's...just going to keep that to himself. he doesn't need anyone associating him with a fish after this is all over. )

I don't think he'd want to be called a pet for some reason. He doesn't talk but just a hunch.

( last thing he needs is a talking carp. )

You some kind of...information trader or something? Or just have one of those faces that people tell everything to?

Would you tell this face things?

[ When she smiles, she tries for less silly and more serious, then shrugs a shoulder. ]

I hang around the docks and listen to people talk. Sometimes they say things that matter to other people and they give me cool stuff to tell them information. So yeah, trading, I guess.

[ Sounds like she's doing shady government business, putting it that way. ]

Maybe. Might depend on my mood.

( she does have a pretty trustworthy face, he'll admit, but he's also private enough that it'd take some time before even her face would have him talking. )

You heard anything interesting lately?

[ Clara laughs and shrugs. ]

That's fair. And yes, as a matter of fact, I have. But I deal in trades, so...

[ She raises her eyebrows and waits to see what he might suggest. ]

( right.

he crosses his arms and purses his lips. )

Don't know what I have that you might want.

( but he's willing to listen. )

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the sunken | part i

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