westwhere | the sunken

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

Thank you, though if you're truly going to eat that very sad sandwich, I'll wait. I always did dislike it when people smoked while I was trying to enjoy food.

[ Claire's smile is small, exhausted, and quite sad, but it's still warm somehow, reaching her eyes faintly. ]

I'm Claire Fraser. At least some version of her, anyway. If I weren't running on the strength of this cigarette, I'd offer to buy us both something to eat.

[ She reaches out while introducing herself, wondering if her company is experiencing something similar. Does she have ghosts that visit? Does she have a life filled with memories of living here, but not? The disadvantage to being new (now that she knows she is) has been navigating so much of this alone. She'd thought she was done feeling that way when she'd gone back to Jamie, but here she is again. ]

Vanessa Ives.

[ Of which there should only ever be one version, but Yancai has dared to test what it shouldn't.

Claire Fraser seems the type to speak her mind, and Vanessa can only appreciate and honor that with her own admission. It is, after all, a pitiful sandwich indeed. She wasn't paying much attention to it, but that should be quite clear. She certainly has fallen far from her time in high society. ]

I am not the most adept at following my time when preoccupied. This was intended for...earlier.

[ Though, she already has her own cigarette lit, so she certainly isn't stopping just to eat. If someone hadn't been watching, she might have attempted both at once in a terribly unladylike fashion, so it's a good thing someone came along and stopped her.

She'll be certain to light a match for the heroine, of course. ]

I do promise that I eat far more than very sad sandwiches.

[ Claire waves her off. ]

Please, don't worry. I get in my own head and the next thing I know, my husband's reminding me to eat something. Not here, but—[ She gestures nebulously up at the sky, as if to say the world I came from. It almost hurts to think about, but at least she isn't the widow she thought. ]

A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Ives.

[ Taking a drag of the cigarette, she can't help but glance at the box. ]

Here on an errand?

The pleasure is entirely mine, Mrs. Fraser.

[ Any bit of surprise she might feel at someone addressing her properly for once is soon replaced by curiosity at such a question. When she realizes that the small box must have somehow slipped enough to try and peek out from within the bag, Vanessa is quick to push it deeper underneath her supplies from the apothecary and tug her shoulder bag close to her side.

Sharing a shoddy sandwich or a cigarette, perhaps... But this thing she isn't going to hoist on anyone she only just met. Charming or not. ]

An errand, yes. [ Her smile is half-hearted. ] A journey of discovery, as ever our charge, no? What of yourself?

[ It feels good to hear her name, her only connection to the family she left behind. As for Vanessa's reaction, Claire might be projecting, seeing as how she has her own discreet cargo at hand. Her eyes glance to the suspicious lump she's toting across her lap, hesitation obvious. ]

An errand of sorts. Unfinished business from before I arrived here that I'd had the pleasure of forgetting. Now, I'm not quite sure what to do.

[ Is throwing the skull of a dead man into the ocean of a planet he never stepped foot on the right thing? Claire has no idea, but she can't keep carrying it around. ]

Considering we're in an odd place, would you be willing to hear something odd and possibly attempt to pass along advice? I warn you, it may seem...[ Unbelievable? Insane? Like direct evidence that she's lost her marbles? ]...odd. Actually, it may be quite unbelievable. If I hadn't lived it, I might think the same.

[ There's a chance for Vanessa to decline now if she'd like, and Claire's nearly sure she will. But a second opinion to be sure she's doing the right thing would be nice.]

[ Vanessa might have been more suspicious about whatever Claire seems to be carrying if not for the fact that nearly everyone in their group has something strange on their person. Mr. Hargreeves alone seems to be forming a collection.

The pleasure of forgetting is an interesting phrase, but one that Vanessa can understand. While there is a rage that still simmers whenever she thinks of the false memories forced on her, there is a part of her that misses it. Some things seemed much simpler, and...she had been happier.

But she hadn't been herself, and she can never forgive that.

Curiosity now over Claire's predicament keeps her grounded from that anger, and she's only more-so inspired to find a new directive the further the other woman speaks. Advice, is it? Vanessa Ives is the last sort of person anyone ought to be listening to, but even still she wants to help.

Ashes are flicked into the water, followed by a thin stream of smoke from pursed lips. ]

You may be surprised at what I am willing to believe. After such an invitation, how can I not wonder over what ails you?

[ It was inevitable that she'd have to explain, but already the Doctor has believed her. Perhaps this world is the only where she can explain and not be seen as mad. She'd do to avoid another witch trial.

For a moment there's hesitation, but then the cigarette goes between her lips in order to pull out her fare: a weathered skull, the jaw a little loose. There's a jagged-edged hole at the side of the skull, an obvious cause of death. Holding the skull in one hand and exhaling with the cigarette in her other hand, she looks at Vanessa. ]

I saw a ghost before arriving here, in the woods my husband and I were traveling through. We were separated in a storm and found this. It was pouring rain, and admittedly I was lost and exhausted, but one doesn't forget the bloody ghost of a scalped man staring at you while holding his skull. At least, I assume it was the owner of the head.

[ Context clues. She wasn't so out of it that she didn't put two and two together, even if it was impossible. ]

I was cleaning it the next morning when I discovered something extraordinary.

[ Turning the head so that she can pull the jaw down a bit, she points out silver fillings. ]

Those haven't been invented yet. Not when I was.

the sunken | part i

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