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westwhere2023-07-02 05:47 pm
groundrules) wrote in westwhere2023-07-02 05:47 pm
Entry tags:
- 911: evan 'buck' buckley,
- arcane: caitlyn,
- doctor who: clara oswald,
- doctor who: the doctor,
- game of thrones: jon snow,
- harry potter: hermione granger,
- kingdom of the wicked: emilia,
- kingdom of the wicked: wrath,
- legend of fei: xie yun,
- lockwood & co: anthony lockwood,
- mcu: america chavez,
- mcu: kamala khan,
- oh! my emperor: beitang moran,
- owl house: eda clawthorne,
- penny dreadful: vanessa ives,
- star wars: cal kestis,
- tian guan ci fu: xie lian,
- umbrella academy: five,
- untamed: wen ning,
- untamed: wen qing,
- warcraft: wrathion
the sunken | moonrise
The final Arc VI event lasts three days ICly and until 23 July OOCly. Yancai goes back another two years in time to the Huntress’ visit, Miang-Si’s corruption and the memory-meddling rite of the ladies of the lake.
The party can choose to stay neutral, only heading to the House of Commerce to access its now-active beacon — or they can inevitably get mixed up in the affairs of Yancai and endanger the village’s time loop.
For a quick catch-up: the latest clues | everything about Arc VI.
BOAR’S HEART
Rattled, on high alert, feeling watched and skin prickling from static electricity, characters wake to find Yancai has gone back another two years in time. It is now nearly dry, barring rare waterways. Mould is absent. The village bustles with activity: a heavy influx of new arrivals comes by sea, and frequent fishermen’s and merchants’ markets set up in the open road — enjoy fresh fish delicacies, discounted pearls, rare cloth textiles and dyes that include the unique Yancai green!
- ■ No more hauntings take place, and only one moon loiters above the village. Villagers still remember the party under their false identities.
■ Word has spread of the conflict between elder Quanze Tsaymien’s council and a beautiful woman who has taken up in the forests at the village’s outskirts. Gossipmongers say she wastes away in the woods weeping — while ground cracks beneath her feet, grass wilts, waters poison and animals drop dead nearby. Young men are drawn to her and are later forcibly recovered in a state of rambling, feverish exhaustion. Village healers gladly accept your nursing help.
■ Village elders have given the woman — correctly identified by the party as the Huntress — until the following sunrise to leave Yancai on pain of death. You have 24h to encounter her.
■ The forests are livelier than in previous iterations of Yancai, but you feel perpetually… watched, as if sharp eyes follow your progress. These heavy gazes may belong to the young men bewitched to protect the Huntress, or to razor-clawed venom-spitting creatures that hunt her.
■ You may find some of the aforementioned creatures bleeding on the forest path. They possess slightly above canine intelligence, cannot communicate in human tongues, and hesitate to let you approach — but nursing one might reward you.
■ The death-touched (necromancers, those who died or revived, or otherwise marked) may optionally feel compelled to join the Huntress. Physical distance dwindles her pull, as can your own magic or solutions.
■ Luck (?) leads you to a silent and bloodied forest clearing, come sunset. Here, two dozens of Yancai’s recent dead have risen alive and surround the Huntress, some battling the creatures that assail her, while she speaks to 16-year-old village beauty Miang-Si. There is a gaping, if regenerating hole in the Huntress’ chest; in one hand, she holds her yet-beating heart she cuts in several parts she wraps in parchment. She asks Miang-Si to bury these pouches near Yancai to ‘hold her power close,’ in exchange for permanent and ever-blossoming beauty.
■ Wait as the Huntress and her forces retreat — then catch up to Miang-Si, capture her, or find the pouches. The ground where they are buried is desaturated, brittle, nearly pulverised. Hawks and ravens circle above and plunge down to claw at intruders, or attempt to pick up children or feebler adults. To the magically or death-sensitive, the pouches emanate a revolting aura of withering death.
■ Beware if heart pouches were buried beneath aged, thick trees — their roots burst out like nooses and writhing spiders’ legs, looking to either slam you against the tree trunks or entrap you within.
■ Finding at least two heart pouches prevents the dead from rising in Yancai in the years to come! Keep the heart cuts fettered — touching these parts directly can overwhelm you with the need to consume this or other hearts, to compensate for the sudden and unfeeling… coldness in your chest.
WAKE, UNWAKEFULLY
Sunrise finds the Huntress gone from Yancai — while waves of the dead rise from the sea to attack the village. Some come chained, or dragging pieces from the casket-ships in which they were set for water burial.
This is the first undead attack witnessed by Yancai villagers, who are largely clumsy, slow and petrified. Some sentimentally believe their revived relatives never died and plead not to kill them. Many are caught in undefended areas, such as open port harbours, fishing boats, markets — and need help to travel to their families. The Huntress’ spell starts dissolving by midday, with the dead largely pulling back into sea and lake waters
- ■ Beware the village waterways: touching the water replenishes the strength of the dead and saps yours. Look closely at the bottom of the waterways, and you find them lined with dozens of resting corpses. Some wake slowly, as they clutch shards of glistening black mirror — best to… use a very long oar… or plunge very quickly to recover shards.
■ Carrying a mirror shard puts the dead around you to blissful sleep. Those who possess a cut of the Huntress’ heart can take control of up to 20 of the risen dead. Necromancers can control up to 10, even without such a token.
MOTHER MOON
Come midday of Day II, Yancai villagers start to move freely and reunite with loved ones. Waters begin to gently rise and flood the grounds, while the first spores of black mould appear on walls.
The first to help the injured are the washerwomen of Yancai, who favour the young and magically sensitive. You notice they work in perfect synchrony and have developed a hand sign language they can teach you. Keep an ear out, and one might entrust they are hedge witches, the so-called ‘ladies’ of the lake.
■ Join them, either invited or unseen, when they gather at one of Yancai’s three great lakes. Each lady picks up one of the silver coins tossed in the water for luck-bearing. Take one yourself, and you will be able to breathe and speak underwater, following as the ladies dive and swim through thin underwater passageways. Beware countless skeletal remains that line the lakes and sinister fish — both burst out to shackle your limbs, or sound the alarm about intruders.
■ You find the ladies have begun to shelter and ward the dead in lake caves, to avoid their rising up again. The ladies re-emerge in the forest, speaking of a protection rite they agreed with the elders’ council. They are not strong enough to break the Huntress’ lingering spell, but hope to later recruit nascent witch Miang-Si, who teases she has power from the Huntress. For now, the ladies have decided to create a five-year time loop, moving Yancai back and forth in time whenever the dead attack.
■ To achieve their rite, the ladies use large pieces of black mirror confiscated from the Huntress’ dead and the energy of the hunter’s moon that shines down a bloody red tonight. Those with a lunar connection feel the moon aches, disgusted by this violation. Even those unaffiliated with the moon feel irascible and prone to violence while under its gaze.
■ Interrupting the rite rescues the moon, earning you a reward, and breaks villagers from the five-year loop, allowing them to live their true lives. It also exposes Yancai to the dead, unless you remove the heart cuts. Co-ordinate and choose wisely.
■ The ladies conduct their chanting, rune-painting and summons throughout the night of Day III in the forest. You have a wealth of options to break their spell: interfere with the magic flows, disrupt the guarded ash circle of convened witches, summon irate villagers to raid, persuade Miang-Si to intervene, break or steal the rite’s black mirror pieces… You can also reach out to the coven’s strongest witches, who agreed to sacrifice themselves to become overseers in the time flux — the Lumberjack, Red Lady, White Woman, Man in Black and the Milk-Toothed Babes. You can still sign up for a RNG draw to chat.
BAIT & BEACON
To take attention off the ladies of the lake, Yancai’s council organises a sumptuous masked banquet and charity auction for the victims of the undead attack at the lavish House of Commerce. The House has been thoroughly cleansed by the time of your arrival, with only faint, clumsy traces of blood, decay and debris lingering from the previous offensive.
On site, servants are still jittery from the undead assault, while openly armed guards walk the grounds and answer any small provocation. Be kind to the staff or offer sympathy for their likely recent losses, and they might let you in unnoticed, or offer a hand.
- ■ Anyone who brings an item for the auction or who
can pretend s/hepossesses massive wealth can join the banquet. Show up with anything you can brazenly talk up as elite, exquisite or one-of-a-kind — or perhaps auction your services?
■ The House of Commerce contains a locked room with the village’s now fully active beacon. The Master of Commerce has the only key-tokens to access this quarter, somewhere in his study room — pick a lock, sweettalk the staff, or work your magic to get inside the study and grab one of the rune-inscribed tokens. The study room brims with scrolls, globes, letters to and from the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company and maps of… Arc I’s Sa-Hareth in the west, where hand-written news reports say the dead are rising.
■ Back at the banquet, the richest wine and… relaxing herbs and powders are offered freely or sometimes slipped into food to ease spirits. Aiming for levity, participants don comical animal masks or play a local game of ‘bait or hook,’ whereby they approach you with the aforementioned fishing bait or fish hook in closed fists, asking you to pick one. Depending on your choice, you must ‘bait’ the audience with a song or dance, or ‘hook’ them in with a joke or anecdote.
■ Around midnight, attendants are invited to an increasingly competitive auction, punctuated by elbowing, loud voices, crowding and the occasional threat. Beautiful concubines might stick to your arms, asking to be purchased this or that (exorbitant) small nothing as a gift. Participate to keep up your cover, but beware landing in hard debt!
■ Most banquet goers pretend they are indifferent to the undead attack, but some question whether the woman of the forest was to blame — while others mention that the mysterious, far too independent coven of the ladies of the lake is meeting even now, and might be cursing Yancai.
■ However you spend your night, the witch Karsa asks you to infiltrate the House of Commerce by dawns and attempt to leave through the beacon. This will only be possible if at least one person has picked up a key-token…!
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[ This much is true -- there's no point intimidating her. He's not certain he could fight her, one on one. ]
I can admit curiosity, however, Miang-Si speaks so highly of you. Will you allow me that?
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Miang-Si? Who — ( ...oh. Oh, but this much, she remembers. Nods, half-heartedly, with grudging acceptance. )
The girl. The little village creature. ( The one who thinks herself so very accomplished and clever. ) Is she your sister? Your cousin?
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Time to play to a role then. He shakes his head, lowering his eyes. ]
I am the matchmaker, it will be my honour to begin finding her a husband soon on her debut. She aspires to your beauty. She is...
[ Here, he affects hesitation, as if struggling to stay complimentary but of course being mindful of his position. ]
Single minded.
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Like the Huntress, rounding her hands in her hair, cupping the strands before starting to coax them untangled. She dedicates a great deal of attention to her cleansing, even in the absence of salts and equipment.
And far too sweetly: )
She will never amount to a beauty. Her shoulders are too broad and her nose too wide. She walks like a goat. ( Consider it the review of a woman, grown, of true beauty. )
She has power. You would be wise to discard her, matchmaker.
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Hilarious. He'll write down that insult for later, to be quite honest. Here, however, he frowns -- lifts his eyes affecting confusion. ]
Power is what she wanted. Is her power not good? She desires for eternal beauty, as you have.
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Which of these is more laughable? )( Both, she anticipates. ) She's a child. An ugly, impotent child.
( Her smile is a wicked, ugly, twisted thing. Turning further. )
But I keep my word. ( All the same: ) You're not just a matchmaker. Are you?
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None of us are only one thing. I am whatever I need to be, in the moment.
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Where she turns, barely recovering from the faults of her gored body, mouth dry and vision slanting, and she says, emptily: )
And what is this moment for you?
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[ He tilts his head at her, considering. ]
Unlike Miang-Si I don't desire power and beauty for myself. I hunt a man, and I think you've met him. A wanderer in white.
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( Until now, she has been breezy, dismissive, paying him little mind. Every word lacking substance, weight and consequence. Now, she listens, she heeds. Now, they speak each other's tongue.
And, gazing back, she likes what she hears. )
...do you. Oh, do you. And what do you want of him? This... brother in white?
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Information, first. I've been following his trail, but there are holes in what I know. I know he is a man of Ellethia, where they sought immortality. I know they used mirrors, which you know something of too. I know he travels now, and I can see the consequence of his actions everywhere I go, but I'm curious to know what you make of him. I have yet to have the privilege, as I'm sure you can guess.
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Those who meet her eyes yet relive their worst sorrows, this she knows, this she has learned. )
Matthias. His name. What do I make of him? ( Laughter, shrill. ) He did this to me. Do you know, clothes crackle and burn on me. Shoes wither. My body is whipped by the wind, my soles bleed. I have no rest.
( She is ever in movement, ever pursued. )
He did this to me, then he told me, your husband hunts you. But I can keep you alive. If you only... run.
( And so, on her horse, with her armies. Forever, eternally chased. )
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[ Grim, determined. She may be overselling it, of course, he has no comparison here, but so far this does track. ]
Did he offer it to you, as power with a price? Or did he force it upon you?
[ He has no guarantee she will tell the truth, but right now he has nothing to go on. Even a lie has some element of the truth to it. ]
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( And she laughs again, this time worn. )
I took it willingly. But he can force it, too. He never told me the truth of what I fully accepted. I thought he gave me a weapon, a shield. And he did... in part. While furthering his own plans. His own needs. This is how he is.
( The smile, now, turns to a grimace — souring. ) Will you kill him?
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I'd like to stop this cycle. Everywhere I walk, it is as you said. I can see his promises, his claims of help, his half truths. What I could not tell is if this is... calculated, deliberate, or simply a madness.
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Intent can be sweet. But the consequences are sour. No matter his reasons, or his beliefs. Look at me.
( Her chest gored, but — and perhaps this is why she nods towards the wound — recovering, muscles knitting back to fill out the hole. Unnaturally, impossibly, grotesquely real and efficient. )
It began with Matthias. End it with him.
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It matters, because it helps to predict his actions. Do not misjudge me, I don't desire to hold his hand and sympathise with him about his dead colleagues. But understanding an enemy allows you to better destroy them. Did he ask anything of you, in return for his gift?
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( But her smile is a bitter thing, its aches old and long. She knows what she sold that day, seeking the power to escape her husband. She has learned since.
Her hand cups her heart, the hole of it, as if she might shield with it the whole of her hurts. )
He used me. And now I run for eternity. And my husband chases. And we both serve him in our way, as he planned. Tell me, who won in this matter? Me? My beloved? My son? Or Matthias?
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You have been wronged.
[ A simple agreement: one she wants to hear, and one he doesn't entirely think is incorrect. Whatever her crimes, a life of running in an undead state is nonetheless unpleasant. If what she says is true (if, all of this, if) and she wasn't told the whole story then certainly she has suffered a form of betrayal. ]
What message does he seek to spread?
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Yes, oh yes. She thinks it so. Knows it. But it has been years, years and a lifetime, and no one has spoken the words. And so to hear them now, her mouth rests slightly agape, eyes bright and wondering.
She does not speak for the longest time. Then, she nods. )
I don't know. I suppose, that he's here. That his creatures are here. I don't — he had a daughter. He seems to think that matters. I'll tell you this, I had a son. And now I don't, and I've carried on.
( The shrug that's born of her is fluid, graceful. Almost uncaring. )
It'll surprise you how much your life can throw in your path, and you'll still carry on.
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[ Murmured to himself, eyes dropping with a frown. ]
I know she died long ago. I have wondered if all this madness is... to reclaim her, to understand how he might undo it all.
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He is a man who can be persuaded to her cause. She feels it. Knows so with certainty, because her reasons seem to be his own. )
Is he the first man to lose a child? Would you let rampant what he has, only for a daughter? Know this: it's easy to fuck. It makes children.
( Her smile's strained, deeply dug. ) He's a man. Any time, he could have another daughter.
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I seek only motive, so I might guess his next move, not to forgive.
[ As heartless as her comment is, after all, she isn't wrong: he is not the first man to lose a child. ]
When he gave you this... power, tell me: did he use anything? An artefact, a tool? Or is the ability all inside him?
[ If he's using a mirror, or some such thing, they can disarm him that much after all. ]
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( But then she pauses, the softness of her ever evasive gaze suddenly dissipating, sharpening. As if, alongside this man, she too reaches a conclusion. )
Or using him. Who's to say? Who's to care? ( Here, a beautiful mouth turns scornful. ) I tire of excusing men the hardships to which they submit women.
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[ She's not a planner, is she? No matter, he can plan without her. ]
Understanding his power allows us to guess how it might be limited or removed.
[ Thus making him vulnerable. Surely she has interest in that? ]
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