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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Clara actually stumbles at Caitlyn's words and lets out a started yelp but recovers quickly. ]

Sorry, sorry. Just caught me off guard. You were in an explosion?

[ Her question is swallowed by the crack of the already splintering wood and she wets her lips, forgetting everything else. ]

Okay, so, that's excellent. I don't think we can jump over this.

We can't turn back now.

[But Clara's probably right, this is too big a gap to jump.

Caitlyn frowns miserably at the distance they need to cross, trying to figure out how to do it, her story about the explosion momentarily forgotten.

Vi could make the jump. She could do it easily. But Vi isn't here, and Caitlyn is, and if she wants to see Vi again, she needs to get to the beacon and check that it's intact so that she can use it to return home. She's not giving up.

Perhaps, if she had a bit of a run-up, she's tall enough that she could make it. Perhaps. But then how to get Clara across?

One problem at a time.]

I can do it. If I can just get a running start.

Holy shit, Caitlyn, are you sure?

[ Clara didn't bring anything with her that would help them cross a gap that big, but she does have rope, so she's already trying to think ahead. Maybe she can throw her the rope after and then get pulled up? Her stomach feels like it's down at her knees. ]

Oh my God, are you really gonna try to do this, or are you just talking out loud because you cannot fall, or I'll have to come down after you or something.

I won't fall.

[She says it with as much conviction as she can muster.]

There's. Uhm. [She pulls the rifle case off her back and holds it out to give to Clara.] There's something. [Her notebook, in which she wrote the love letter that Clara suggested, which she never gave to Vi. Only Vi's gone home now, and Clara's from a different world, and if something happens to Caitlyn there's no way for anyone to get the letter to Vi.] If. Anything happens to me. And should you ever see Vi again. I wrote something for her.

Just in case.

[She frowns.]

I'm not going to fall.

[ Claras bravado from earlier is over, and now she's just worried as hell. But how else are they going to make their way? Palms sweaty, she accepts the bag with wide eyes. ]

Vi left? You know, what not the important thing right now. I've got you, but don't worry. You won't fall. You won't. I mean, you'll have to rescue me later and I'm looking forward to it, because you're a badass. Which is why you won't fall.

[ Words are coming out of her mouth and it's nonsense, but she does believe that last parst. Caitlyn is capable as hell, so if anyone can do it, Clara believes it's her. ]

Edited 2023-06-11 22:30 (UTC)

Yes. Well. Yes. [Yes, Vi left. No, it's not the important thing right now. The important thing right now is that she's not going to fall.] Y-yes. I won't fall.

[She takes a few hesitant steps backwards, trying to remember how to breathe. She can do this. And a pretty girl calling her a badass... Her heart firmly belongs to Vi, but it can't help but flutter in response to that, which only strengthens her resolve. She can do this.

She runs and jumps and-- Was that the wrong foot? Should she have jumped off the other foot? Does she need to reach her arms out? Is her form wrong? Should she be bracing for--

Her jumbled, panicky thoughts are interrupted by her arms slamming into the edge of the balcony. She grabs on, her fingerless gloves thankfully protecting her palms but doing nothing for her fingertips.

There's a long heart-stopping moment of hanging out over nothing that leaves her convinced she's going to fall to her death. And then another long moment of gracelessly flopping around as she hauls herself up. But finally, she's lying on solid wood, staring up at the sky, trying to get her breathing under control.]

[ Clara has never in her life watched someone do something that terrifies her so much. Which is saying a lot, considering the things she's seen and done. It makes her understand the Doctor worrying about humans and their fragility.

When the leap is made and Caitlyn looks like she's about to fall, Clara shouts in terror, and then, when the immediate danger passes, she feels like she might throw up right over the edge. That was the most harrowing thing she's witnessed, and she calls out urgently. ]

Caitlyn! Are you okay? If your heart gives out after you survived the jump, I'm gonna be so mad at you.

[ She's trying for a joke as she calls across, the distance seeming even greater now that Caitlyn's cleared it with her much longer legs. Now, she has to figure out what to do with the rope and how best to get across. ]

Is it stable-ish at least?

[Caitlyn can barely hear for the rushing in her ears. But once she calms down a bit, and her breathing starts to slow, she calls back,] I'm alright.

[Slowly, she rolls over, testing the strength of the wood beneath her. But she's not going to look over the edge. She might pass out if she sees how far she could have fallen.]

It seems to be secure. [It hasn't broken yet, at least.

Now, the problem of getting Clara over here.]

[ Clara exhales in relief and wets her lips, nodding. ]

Okay, that's a good start. I have a rope and it's ridiculously long, so I have two equally stupid ideas. They might also equally be our only options as far as I can tell. And believe me, I want you to come up with any other way. One thought is both of us putting faith in our knot-tying skills and we tie off each end to the sturdiest points we have that makes the rope taut. Then I'll sort of...shimmy across?

[ Saying it out loud sounds so much worse, holy shit. ]

Second idea is we only trust my knotting abilities and I make a sort of rope-step for my foot and throw you the other end. I hold on, drop off my end, and hope you can manage to hold onto nearly eight stone to lift me up.

[ Clara isn't even sure if one is better than the other. ]

[Slowly, carefully, in case the wood is more rotten than it seems, Caitlyn picks herself up and examines the balcony doors behind her. They look about as sturdy as the staircase leading up to them, full of rot and probably not at all difficult to break.

Still moving carefully so as not to risk breaking the planks beneath her feet, she puts her shoulder to the doors and pushes. She backs up slightly and tries again with more force, this time slamming her shoulder into the doors. Once again, she can't help but think that this would be easy for Vi. One more hard ram of her shoulder and the doors creak and groan and splinter, and Caitlyn stumbles through into the dark, mildewy interior of the upper floor.]

There's a banister in here. Toss me the rope, I'll tie it off. You can put knots in the rope at intervals to make hand-holds for yourself, that'll make it easier for you to hold on to it. I can use the banister for leverage and haul you up. [That will be the easiest way to go about it, she imagines, though it's certainly not without risk.]

Kind of sounds like you've done a version of this which makes me feel way more confident.

[ Also hot? Does she just like it when people take charge? That's a thought for later. Vi, bless her wherever she is, is lucky. In any case, Clara hurriedly ties knots good enough for handholds on her end, before tying off a good clench knot, taught to her by her dad the first time they went out fishing together. It's the strongest knot there is—according to him. She hopes it's true. ]

Okay, I'm tossing you an end, mine's tied to the only solid thing that was here, so here's hoping.

[ Clara counts to three before throwing over the rope; if it drops then she can just haul it back up on her end. It's only after the rope leaves her hands that she realizes they're sweaty. The Doctor is gonna be so mad. He was agitated already on the train, this is in no way going to make it better. ]

[Caitlyn's never done anything quite like this before, but perhaps there are benefits to being raised with the expectation of one day ruling a city-state. She can give orders in a crisis.

She catches the rope and hurries to tie it off. Unfortunately, she doesn't know the first thing about knot-tying, but she does her best, looping the rope around the banister several times with quick, precise movements before tying it off, then looping it around the largest post to use for leverage in a sort of makeshift pulley system.]

It's tied off. [She grabs hold of her end and braces to take as much of Clara's weight as she needs to.]

Edited 2023-06-14 20:12 (UTC)

[ It occurs to her that she still has Caitlyn's things, and it makes her wonder if she should tell her something to tell the Doctor just in case. ]

If something happens, first of all, sorry about your things falling with me. Second, tell the Doctor I'll see him again. I know this doesn't make sense right now, but tell him he'll always have my echoes.

[ Or maybe if she dies they'll all die too, she isn't sure. But nothing's going to happen. She's gonna do this. She's made the knots for the handholds, the foothold, and it's all she can do now. There's a level of faith that has to happen next. ]

Count of three, on three you'll have to take my weight. Ready?

[ Clara counts out loud, and on three, she steps over the edge, closing her eyes tightly and refusing to look down. When she doesn't keep falling and feels the rope go taut, she figures that for right now, she's still alive. ]

Ready.

[What Clara's saying doesn't make any sense at all, but Caitlyn files it away for later - hopefully to ask Clara about rather than impart to the Doctor. No, not hopefully. Definitely. She's not going to allow anything to happen to Clara.

On the count of three, Caitlyn leans back, ready to take Clara's weight. The rope goes taut, and she slowly starts to haul upwards. Not too fast, for risk of breaking the banister, and not too slow, because the longer Clara's dangling over nothing the greater the risk becomes.

Despite her best efforts, she hears an ominous creak from the banister.]

Are you almost up? Can you grab hold of anything?

[ Hauling herself up, she thanks the Doctor silently for all the running she has to do to keep up with him. Without it, she thinks every muscle in her legs would be on fire. ]

Al...most...

[ Clara tries to swing a little to grab onto the least broken-looking step even though every option looks equally awful. As soon as she wraps her fingers around the step closest to her, there's a loud crack and the wood seems to crumble to dust beneath her hand. Slipping down the rope, she shouts in alarm, but thanks to the handholds Caitlyn suggested, Clara manages to save herself. ]

I'm okay. I'm okay!

[ Her heart might explode, but she begins climbing again, this time all the way until she can reach one hand up so Caitlyn can see wiggling fingertips. ]

Can you grab me?

[It only takes a moment for Caitlyn to tie the length of rope she's holding around the banister and rush to grab Clara's hand.]

I've got you.

[She wraps both hands around Clara's wrist and pulls as hard as she can, just hoping the mouldering wood will support them both long enough that she can haul Clara up and get them both safely inside the building.]

[ As soon as Clara is up and over that step, she feels like she's going to pass out in Caitlyn's arms, breathing hard and trying to stop shaking. ]

Holy shit. Seriously, that was life-flashing-before-your-eyes terrifying. And we've only just started. Good omen, that.

[ Brushing herself off, she takes a deep breath tries to will her stomach back into the right place. ]

We can't stop now, and I'm not going back over that hole anytime soon, so we'll have to keep going to find another way out, anyway.

[Caitlyn wraps Clara tightly in her arms, hugging her for dear life for a long moment before finally letting her go.]

You're alright.

[Clara's alright. They're both alright. She grabs Clara's shoulders, just looking at her for a moment to make sure that she is, in fact, alright, before finally brushing herself off, straightening her clothes, and letting her expression relax into a frown.

She nods to the rifle case that Clara still has.]

I can take that back now.

[ Once her heart is no longer pounding, Clara focuses on Caitlyn and then nods. ]

Totally alright, everything's good.

[ At the mention of the case, her eyes widen in realization before handing it over. ]

Right! Yes, sorry. Completely left my brain for a second. To be fair, everything left my brain for a second. I feel better now, and you have arm muscles of steel. For the record, you give great hugs.

[ Letting out one last saky breath, Clara manages to smile and then makes her way to the actual solid ground. ]

Oh. Thank you.

[Caitlyn takes the case and slips it onto her back before following Clara inside. A faint, awkward blush colours her cheeks at the compliment. Years of rifle training have made her strong, but people don't typically compliment her on it.

The blush only becomes more pronounced and more awkward as the thought that she's nowhere near as strong as Vi springs unbidden into her mind, along with a memory of Vi's arms, glistening with sweat in the winter sun as she chopped wood.]

I. Uhm. [What had Clara been talking about?

Oh. Right.]

I learned it from my dad, really. He gives excellent hugs. [She'd give just about anything for a hug from her dad right now.]

[ It's an understandable distraction. The smell as soon as they're in a dank hallway is overwhelmingly moldy, and Clara steels herself for a second with a hand under her nose. No need to call it out; unless Caitlyn doesn't have a sense of smell, it's pretty obvious. ]

Dad hugs are the best. Even when the dad in question is being really annoying.

[ Because that's what dad's do best; they annoying jokes, something sometimes with their over-protectiveness, but when her dad used to hug her, she felt safe and loved. When's the last time she hugged her dad? When's the last time he hugged her? She's still thinking about that as her feet slosh through water about ankle-deep, squinting into the inky darkness. ]

It sounds like there's water all around us, which would explain the moldy, musty smell. You don't happen to have anything that'll give us some light do you?

[Caitlyn reaches back into her rifle case and pulls out a torch, shining it around in a sharp, efficient survey of the interior. Mould, growing along the edge of the ceiling and along the wall where water's dripped down. Murky water, ankle-deep on the floor. A couple of closed doors, which pique Caitlyn's interest. And distressingly little else.

The air in here can't be very healthy to be breathing. It certainly doesn't smell good for one's health.

Clara's comments about her dad only make Caitlyn miss her own dad that much more. Yes, hers could be annoying, especially when he was being overprotective. But that really doesn't matter when it's been so long...

She's been here the better part of nine months. And all she left behind was a bloodstain on the bathroom floor. What would Jayce do, if he thought someone from the undercity killed her? He'd already gone off with Vi and started a fight. If he thought she was dead, would he start a war? Would her mother...?

A frown settles across her features.

She has to focus on the goal, not worry about all the terrifying thoughts of civil war that are suddenly tumbling end over end through her head. Or she'll drive herself mad.]

Let's find the beacon. So we can get back to our dads.

[ Clara honestly wonders if her dad even knows how long she's been gone. Not that he doesn't care, but what once was, isn't necessarily the way it is now. He over-worries but stays distant, and her own theory is that if anything ever happens to her, he thinks he's doing enough to protect his heart. He's wrong, but she'd definitely do just about anything to throw her arms around him anyway.

On the other hand, once she goes back, the Doctor—her Doctor—is dead, and she isn't sure what there is to even go back to on that front. It's so conflicting, but this isn't the best planet for anyone to be on, so she'll keep going no matter what. ]

Is this the same gross black stuff from Serthica?

[ Because if so, yikes. ]

[Caitlyn snaps the torch beam to the mould that Clara's looking at, peering up at it curiously. Yes, it does bear a more than a passing resemblance to the awful black sludge that had infested Serthica.

She moves towards it, trying to get a closer look, but only a few steps and she suddenly feels dizzy.]

I think it is.

[She stumbles a few steps backwards, shaking her head in an effort to clear it.]

[ Reaching out, Clara grabs Caitlyn's arm to help her keep her balance. ]

We'll stay right in the middle then, no touching the walls. Let's pick a door and see if we're lucky or not. If the person who built this was as eccentric as we've been told, we should be careful where we step. Could be traps.

[ Which isn't a comforting thought in any way. Picking a door she tugs as hard as she can, until there's a great groaning sound and water begin to seep out from between minute cracks in the door, and from beneath. ]

Do we take our chances here, or go with door number two?

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