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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[ She has to admit something's wrong because he's right, she's smart, and there obviously can't be two of her in this place. ]

So...what do we do then? Why are you the only one I've met who realizes anything is wrong?

[ There's still a careful wariness to her voice, not complete trust, but she's listening. It shouldn't be this difficult for her to remember exactly where she was and what she was doing before she 'chose' to stay. Nothing makes sense, but having no real idea about her own past is unnerving enough to keep her from continuing her flippancy. ]

Could be luck. Could be that I've got a leg up when it comes to time manipulation.

[ Probably the former, because when does anything ever work out for him? As for her other question, aside from go door-to-door to antagonize people who may or may not remember him... ]

Right now, I'm seeing how many people were impacted. Then it's a matter of finding out who or what caused this and putting a stop to it.

How many people have you found so far? If it's not just me, and I'm not the first one you've met, then how many?

[ Grabbing the entire plate of baked goods in one hand and grabbing a pitcher of lemonade with the other, she nods at him to follow her so they can sit outside on the villa's balcony. Might as well enjoy her faux life while she can. If this isn't real, then she's assuming this isn't her house which is a shame because it's nice. ]

I stress bake, and now I'm gonna stress eat, so help yourself.

[ Except...why was she baking so much? What does she even have to be stressed about? ]

[ He's about to answer when she suddenly decides to relocate. There's a beat or two when he seems reluctant to follow just because she's guiding him out, but he trails anyway. She's listening and that's more than he can say about everyone. ]

So far? One that remembers. [ And Moran already made it clear he's not interested in working together. — He eyes the lemonade and briefly glances back to the kitchen. ] Do you have any coffee?

Yeah, gimme a mo.'

[ Disappearing back inside, she has an excuse to think alone for the minute it takes the water to boil, and the couple of minutes it takes to brew the coffee. She makes it strong because it seriously feels like this not kid is mostly running on caffeine and conspiracy theories.

And yet, she's hearing him out because of sheer gut instinct. When she returns with the coffee, she brings sugar too and sets it down in front of him. ]

No cream or anything, dairy was hard to come by this go 'round apparently.

[ Trade is fickle, and she knows that because gossip is what she's supposed to know, right? Gossip, information, that's been her job for as long as—she can't even trick her mind into giving her an exact time frame. ]

So, you said one person actually remembers. Is it the way you remember things, or did you convince them?

[ He may not be easily won over, but Five warms up to her considerably when she obliges and drums up some coffee for him. He doesn't touch the sugar, instead immediately taking the cup and sniffing it before swallowing a large gulp. Fresh. It was poor foresight that he didn't take whatever he could grab on the way off the train, it's been too long. ]

...Not bad. [ Because there's always time to comment on the quality of the coffee. He looks back up at her and already seems a little less manic. ]

I didn't have to convince him of anything, he called me out. Unfortunately, he's of the opinion that we should sit back and observe to see what happens. [ He frowns into the cup and takes another drink, then regards her briefly. ]

What made you believe me?

[ Clara's nothing if not a good hostess, at least. Even when someone's trying to convince her the comfortable life she has is a ruse. His question is answered easily, with no hesitation. ]

My best friend's an ageless time-traveling alien, thought it'd be a bit weird not to at least hear you out after accepting all that.

[ She isn't sure she can wrap her mind around it yet, but Clara's still more willing to hear him out than she was before. ]

If this is all true, doing nothing sounds like we're stuck here living some life that isn't ours. What is he waiting for, exactly?

[ Her questions are an attempt to understand as much as she can, and maybe along the way, more will start to seem less fuzzy. ]

[ It's interesting how much of her past she remembers. It seems like they just changed enough to keep her from poking holes in their time bubble. ]

Moran? [ He deserves to have his name slipped in. ] He seems to think it'll solve itself if we ignore it. Or he's got a plan and he isn't telling me out of spite.

Remember that if we don't fix this in time. Not everyone knows a crisis when they see one.

In the history of resolutions, 'doing nothing' normally isn't the one that tends to work out. But what do I know, I'm just a girl with a double life, apparently.

[ Her conversation with Bucky is starting to make a little more sense, all the confusion with who she was and when he saw her last. She thought it was roommate confusion, but...]

I think one of the people who lives here might be going through something like this. We were talking and he said he was having a hard time remembering things. I wasn't sure what to make of that, then.

[ Now, it's just more in Five's favor on the side of Clara believing him. ]

[ Another point to her favor. Really says something that he can find someone who was handed a new life and she's more motivated than a guy who remembers everything. Although he still thinks it might have just been because Moran cares more about a grudge than working with him.

He takes another sip of coffee as he listens. It hits a little close to home. He won't mention how he knows what that's like, but he's curious how closely these types of spells are related. ]

Was it painful when he tried? Headaches Nosebleeds, that kind of thing?

[ It doesn't hurt that the person sitting in front of her doesn't talk like any kid she's ever met, isn't giving up, and has no problem breaking down what happened. There's too much for it to be a ruse, unless he's pulling some very elaborate long con, but for what? She doesn't know what he'd have to gain by telling her every memory she has of this place might be tainted. ]

I dunno about him, I didn't think to ask anything close to that. But what about feeling like I might pass out? Combined with a headache that came on faster than any other headache I've ever had.

[ Well, shit. It hadn't happened to Bucky as far as she knows, but she didn't think to ask. She, on the other hand...nosebleeds have been a negative, but what Five just described is another nail in the truth coffin. ]

I wasn't actively trying to remember anything either; it was just a few seconds of feeling like something was really wrong, then it passed.

[ Not exactly the same, but close enough to his experience that he nods to say that he expected as much. With how quickly it passed, he has to wonder if she'll remember this conversation after he leaves. ]

Trust that feeling. Even if you don't remember everything now, you can still keep an eye out for anything that doesn't seem right. [ Which isn't much of a plan, but he's working on it. ] Hopefully whoever caused this is still around.

People are aware of what's happening, outside of here. They're obviously still able to come, so it's hard to tell who was originally here when it started and who was integrated by whatever is rewriting memories. It might be best to chase superstitions and see where they lead.

[ Drumming her fingers on the table, she tries to think of a way to figure this out for good, then leans on an idea from many different books that may or may not actually work. ]

I wanna remember who I'm supposed to be, not...some other version. So, maybe if you start telling me about things I should know, it'll force my brain to try and find the memory and shake something loose. Not a tested of theory, but the only one I have.

[ There's a knot of tension in her stomach and she's unsure why; she's been happy, hasn't she? Or is even that fake? ]

Alright.

[ He takes another sip of coffee and considers that request. Not only weren't they close, but his curse had been getting progressively worse since the first time he met her. He has to pick at the moments when he wasn't half-insane. ]

Before coming here, you were in Alem during a siege. Not sure where you ended up, but the gate to Hell was opening so I was mostly underground. Rathakku was trying to use it for his own means, as far as I remember. We managed to avert an apocalypse by appeasing it with a sacrifice.

...There was a wedding on the train. We thought time was being looped then too, but it turned out to be magic and they were only living dreams. The entire train seemed to run on them.

[ Which was odd enough that she would remember. ]

[ First, she's listening because wow—a siege, Hell...it sounds like a lot. But the longer he continues, the more he says, the more something is trying to claw its way out of the recesses of her mind. What is it? Elbows on the table, Clara puts her head in her hands and tries to focus. Alem, a siege, Hell- ]

I think I got sick?

[ As soon as she asks, she winces as the white noise in her head begins. It's like something is trying to put a damper on her thoughts and she's fighting back. ]

[ He stares at her more intently after she the memory seems to cause her pain, and leans in over his coffee. That's interesting. ]

I wasn't close enough to see. [ Karsa warned not to, so of course he'll keep pressing. If it were him (it has been him), that's what he'd want. ] When did you get sick? In Alem, or are you talking about Serthica?

[ The white noise feels like it dials up to ten and she physically winces. In a flash and then gone again, a memory she can't quite hold onto while her head throbs. ]

This was an awful idea.

[ She doesn't have to do this, he can find others, probably. ]

It's like the harder I try, the worse this...static is in my head, only it hurts like fuck.

You remembered something. Usually you wouldn't get that far. [ All his nosebleeds can attest to the limits of willpower.

He acknowledges her pain with a frown as he lowers his mug. Does he feel badly for making her torture herself after he was warned not to? He should know better than to experiment, but she made some progress. ]

...You can work on it. A little at a time shouldn't break your brain too badly.

Today, I think I wanna call it quits.

[ This is said as she rubs her her forehead, letting out a quit breath. ]

But for what it's worth, I obviously believe you now.

[ The proof is in the pain, and the flashes of what she saw. ]

What happens if everyone remembers who they are, theoretically?

[ Great. That's one. He finishes his coffee and sighs. ]

...If everyone remembers, we're still stuck with the much larger problem of time. In theory, that means more people who can help track down the source and stop it before it starts, but there's risk in that too.

I haven't got it all figured out.

Does it have to be all on you?

[ She asks her question genuinely, unsure if maybe this is just what he does. ]

I just mean...even though I have no idea how, I'll help, if I can, if there's a way to. You know, beyond the excruciating pain of recovering memories.

[ He’s momentarily stuck at her question, expression pinched as he’s weirdly hung up on it as she keeps talking. He’s used to only having himself, and by all accounts he should be the one who untangles this, who saves his family and keeps the world from ending.

But he always seems to fall short of having the answer. It’s not that he hasn’t tried; trusting in teamwork hasn’t exactly worked out for him either. ]

I spent my life studying time travel. I was born with the ability, but it’s… different here. Magic doesn’t follow the same rules. The dangers are the same, but it’s not as predictable as it should be.

[ So he can admit that the help from someone, even someone with as limited experience as her, might be worth the shot. ]

When your memories return, maybe you’ll be able to pick up on something I missed.

[ The less she tries to think about what her life might have been, the less the pain is in her head, so she grabs onto what he's said. ]

Time travel is just...magic in your world? Not just, I mean that it's so impossible in mine it's science fiction. It's hard to convince people it's even possible unless the Doctor happens to be willing to give demonstrations.

[ The first time she met him, she closed door in his face. ]

I'll keep trying with my memories, and maybe someone else'll come around too. I guess I should thank you for...you know. Making sure I'm not living a lie.

[ He makes a face. If not offended by her relation to what he just said, at least uncomfortable. ]

My abilities aren't magic. That doesn't exist in my world, but it explains why things are so screwed up here. There's no logic.

[ The Doctor at least doesn't call it that. Few seem able to make the distinction. Then she thanks him and he's uncomfortable for a different reason. He nods slowly, lost in his thoughts, and moves to stand. ]

Thanks for the coffee.

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the sunken | part i

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