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

[makemeasong]

[ Her voice sounds weak and far away, and she can't even keep her eyes open for how utterly drained she is. Her lips are stained, the awful black that signifies the worst of this planet. Everything feels heavy and numb, and she's wondering if she'll feel like this until she dies.

At least it isn't water this time.

Only when she hears the sound of something roaming, the unmistakable sounds of the dead, does she have any reaction again, hand gripping the Doctor's shirt tightly. What she wants to say is that if they're quiet and careful, they can fool the corpses and get somewhere not overrun. She has her pocket knife that will turn into a sword in her pocket that she knows he'd know how to use. And the petals, the rose petals that can turn them invisible. She has those in her room, but when she tries to open her mouth, only air escapes in a wheeze.

The hand on his shirt unclenches and mustering every bit of willpower she has, she drags his hand up as far as she can, trying to get him to move it to her head, trying to make him understand that she's there. It isn't like the coal sickness when even her brain felt hot. This is different. But she's too weak to get his hand to her head, and instead, she drops it across her chest just below her throat. ]

[thedreamer]

[ Lucky for her—both of them, really—he's more than clear on her meaning with just that small gesture. And even without it, he can sense the degree to which she's been harmed. It's not a pervasive sickness like before, thankfully, but she's in no less danger really.

He's worked out enough to realize the undead can be fooled if they're careful; difficult for someone like him not to speak much, though, of course. ]

You'll be alright. Promise.

[ Whispered. Barely spoken. He has to be careful. His lips press to her forehead tenderly for a moment. He could hold her like this through the night, her weight such a slight thing. For now, there's no need to move, though eventually he'll need to move her to a safe spot and attempt to help others. ]

[makemeasong]

[ Clara keeps testing every part of her, to see if she can move, but everything feels so heavy. It seems, though, that the hauntings don't care much about being quiet or stopping what they're doing.

Ellie appears and seems unaware of the situation, simply following a script as she settles on the floor across from them. She's dressed casually, as if she might have flopped down on Clara's bed to have this tag before bed. Her mother goes on about everything Clara will do with her future, the things she'll do.

Her voice attracts one of the dead, shuffling closer to the closed door, making rasping sounds that blend in with Ellie's voice. It takes every effort, but Clara finally opens her eyes and lets herself take in her mother's face, not caring much about the dead, just wanting to soak in every expression and cadence in her voice. ]

[thedreamer]

[ Despite having his own haunting, as it were, the Doctor isn't at all expecting to suddenly be interrupted by the ghost of Clara's mother.

Of all the times! Of course. It has to work out precisely like this, doesn't it. This world is predictable in its unpredictability at least; or its dreadful circumstances, in any case. Having met her mother — sort of — her face is instantly recognizable to him and the Doctor is trying to soothe Clara at the same time the dead will need to be dealt with, albeit silently. He holds Clara a bit closer, more protectively. ]

Oh, honestly, must we.

[ This is said under his breath, a mix of exasperation and worry. Sorry, Clara. He can imagine the feelings it evokes in her, but they have pressing matters now, with the dead at their door. ]

Is there a way to stop her? Has this happened before?

[ He might as well talk now, her mother's voice has already shattered the silence. ]

Blink or mumble something, anything at all.

[makemeasong]

[ Clara feels like she's wading through molasses trying to get her words out. It feels like, maybe, she's gaining some headway and she forces out a few words. Each one leaves her mouth a second or two behind the other, causing a delayed effect. ]

She'll...go. Soon.

[ And there's something else that will help if she can manage: the sword that adjusts to the user. Right now it's folded in on itself like a pocketknife, and she manages to turn her head enough to look at him. Whatever happened to her, she's pushing against it, determined to make her body move. ]

Side pocket. Doctor—

[ Her arm flops like a dead fish, but she's trying to get to her left pocket for the weapon. ]

[thedreamer]

[ Oh, Clara, his brave Clara. Even now, working to resist and fight against it, everything that's got hold of her. To be so human, so small, so fierce. He's as proud of her as he's ever been of anyone at all, and his hold on her tightens protectively before he works to try and carefully free the weapon she's alluded to. ]

Stop moving. I've got it. Hold still and rest.

[ We'll be okay. Perfectly okay. Totally okay.

He reaches carefully for the pocketknife, not knowing what to expect until he's pulled it free, and when it starts to elongate and grow quickly, his hold on Clara with his other arm tightens. Somehow, he manages to keep hold of her and the small knife that's now alarmingly a sword... ]

Okay! Wasn't expecting that.

[ She'd told him, yes, but there's quite a difference in hearing about it and seeing it. For now, he doesn't move. He won't attack willingly, even if they are undead corpses. He'd rather defend, if necessary. ]

[makemeasong]

[ At least he has it, that's all she cares about. It feels like motor functions are coming back slowly, and like maybe she can actually speak in sentences. ]

What she's saying...it—it doesn't matter. [ Her forehead creases before turning to look up at the Doctor. ] But seeing her again—[ She makes a soft sound in the back of her throat, trying not to cry because it's truly the last thing she wants to do right now.

Other events, she's only gotten her mum's voice, and in the tower, it wasn't her. Seeing Ellie is almost worse than the other things. Clara never got to see her before she died, hadn't seen her for a while, and she knows the Doctor knows that without Clara continuing. Not that this is the time to dive into it anyway.

She can still hear the dead outside, and thuds are landing heavily against the door. ]

What do we do?

[thedreamer]

We don't do anything at all. I'll have to set you down a moment, Clara.

[ She can't hold herself upright, he knows, but he won't be any good against the things that come through the door if he's only got use of the one hand. So he carefully puts Clara down in the corner, seated as comfortably as he can get her. And then he puts himself bodily between her and the door. ]

If they don't come through, we're golden, of course. If they do, they won't get past me.

[makemeasong]

[ From her position, she can see his defensive stance and the glow of her mother's ghost. The latter is starting to fade, and Clara closes her eyes, not wanting to see her disappear. Counting to ten in her head, she only gets to eight before a loud slam against the door makes her open her eyes with a gasp.
The ghost is gone, and they're alone in the room again. ]

You do know...they don't negotiate?

[ It's meant as a joke, but there's not much inflection in her voice, not yet. ]

Window?

[ Could they jump out and make it? Even if it's into more water, they're close to the shore. The only unknown is how many dead are out there versus in the house: which escape route is less perilous? ]