groundrules: (Default)
let's set d o w n some ([personal profile] groundrules) wrote in [community profile] westwhere2023-07-26 05:56 pm

the house of manouk | test drive meme


Hello, hello! Our latest event — doubling as a test drive meme and stretching until 12 August — is a one-off incursion in an uncharted time pocket dimension — the House of Manouk.

Anyone can hit up the test drive meme, but you will need an invite from an existing player to apply on 5 August. Have fun!


THE HOUSE OF MANOUK







THE TERRACE

Old or new, you wake up on a white-stone terrace dominated by a twisting hedge maze that houses great columns, tattered statues, ponds, rivers, gazebos and pergolas — and high looming walls of thickly bound ivy, bloomed roses or thorny vines. Walking the Terrace somehow always brings you deeper into the maze, while a flushed, sunless sky stares down, unblinking.

You experience no thirst, hunger or language barriers here. Old translation & communication pendants can nevertheless be found scattered across the Terrace and Grounds.

New arrivals encounter the sorceress Karsa, who explains you were likely summoned by one of the undead lords who seeks control of Akhuras — and reached, along with the party she leads, a pocket dimension outside of time. Karsa’s associate, the Merchant, instructed to exit the time dimension by finding Ellethian waypoints — typically stone tokens engraved with the carvings of an eye with a sun for a pupil. Karsa may activate them for you to leave this place.

Your mission is to search the House and find the waypoints of Ellethia or of the rival Dawn’s Reach Trade Company without attracting the ire of the local exiled overlord(s).

■ Some of the statues you discover on the Terrace seem crudely carved, gaining the features of your loved ones, the longer you stare at them. Some seek to throttle. Escape them by having someone else stare at them, becoming their new target, or by leading them in a crowd of other statues.

■ Beware getting pricked by thorns: covetous vines can quickly ensnare and pull you into the maze’s green walls, or bind your hand to that of your companion.

■ The maze’s weather often mimics your mood: nice and balmy for contentment, cold for fear, torrential rain for sadness and a heatwave to answer anger. Smile.

■ Every now and then, you hear screams from other parts of the maze. Run, and you might find pairs of steel manacles or rusted chain on bloodied grounds, from where fresh rose bushes quickly rise up. Investigate.

■ Go deeper in the maze, and you find a heap of small stone tablets. Most list names, ages, occupations and include loving remarks, such as the finest husband or she smiled ever bright. Alarmingly, when your companion’s back is turned, you find tablets engraved with your handwriting, saying, don’t turn your back to them, blood reeks strong on them and that’s not their name. There are no waypoint tokens here.

■ Spend enough time in the maze, and you discover an old, red-eyed, white-haired and hunchbacked man with two chainless shackles on his wrists. He ignores you, muttering to himself about how the House must keep moving, moving. The House doesn’t like you. The House is awake. The House should sleep. The old man hits or trips you with his cane, or you might wake to find him hovering very closely over you. Engage him.

■ Now and then, he seems suddenly alert, if not outright fearful, shrieking that he comes and rushing to tinker with pulleys and stone mechanisms hidden within the maze vine walls. The maze’s architecture abruptly changes, with the ground quaking, walls shifting, while old plants wilt and fresh ones rise up within heartbeats. As the House changes, you might spot a long, spiralling staircase at short distance. Go down into…




THE GROUNDS

The ground level of the House is splintered in dozens of decaying rooms, many locked. There are no windows here, dust thick in every corner, while faint scratches and canine footprints mar the floors — the marks of dozens of great skeletal hounds that haunt the corridors.

The dogs lead, chase or drag you towards a shuttered hall room, where a middle-aged, red-eyed and white-haired man furiously searches through haphazard mounds of tousled tomes. He too wears shackles. His manner is perfunctorily polite, as he calls back his dogs.

…not from around here, are you? Must have broken time. Hooligan. Well, you’ve travelled centuries to be disappointed. There are no mysteries here, no epiphanies. All the great wells of myth and magic? Some other pigs have drunk them dry. Blame your luck, for bringing you to the shambling hut of — …the fine House of Manouk. Taravast’s greatest necromancer, til his mind turned to slaughter.

I was his disciple. Lisanther. Must’ve come from high on, did you? These cursed shackles… he senses everyone in his House through them. If he feels us on his scent, he works his little screws and wheels and moves the House stairs. Impressed? Don’t be. He’s a wreck, who feasts on time echoes of the anguished. That’s him. Paints a picture, doesn’t he? Stay out of his sights, or you’ll wear his chains soon too. Same as me, same as the dog he keeps in the dungeons. Dragged back every time he wanders.

If you want to make yourself useful, help me. I traded fairly with a caravan of the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company. They say they left behind scrolls in these grounds, with the words to free me. They overcharge, but they don’t lie. Help me find them. Break my chains, and I’ll break us out. I can. I swear it.


Deeper into the claustrophobic Grounds, you find specters of men and women, chained just like Lisanther — their skin translucent, their gazes lethargic. They feel neither dead nor alive to the magically sensitive. They are either very present in the moment or barely recall their whereabouts. If asked about tokens, they say the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company left scrolls in the Grounds main quarters:

Bathing quarters

At times pristine and delightful, at others blood-marked and torn. The waters abruptly run very hot, cold or silty. The spectre of a wo/man might appear in the tub, staring unblinkingly or murmuring that people do all sorts of wickedness in this bathroom: they have even witnessed stabbings, treasures being hidden beneath tile boards, and even a birthing!

Kitchens

Sprawling and soot-laden, bursting with supplies of stale wheat, eccentric cakes, exotic fruit and spice jars, these kitchens were built for long service. A heavy cauldron bubbles and boils a green broth in a cold fireplace, where ash and stone drown wood. A circle of spectres troubleshoots how to improve the meal — just as the kitchens’ doors slam shut, and they cordially invite you to do the legwork for their recipe. They instruct you to chop, clean and prepare the most unusual ingredients: hair of a dog, salt, moulded thyme, arsenic, one of your finest love stories… they’ll tire of their creation and release you within the hour. Don’t dine, dash.

Sleeping chambers

There’s rest for the wicked in these deserted sleeping quarters, which boast exceptionally well-stuffed cushions and pillows, blankets and ‘reading materials’ — torn pages from books of history and magic. Some speak of the desperate attempts of the rulers of Taravast to flee death. Others talk of using spells, the elements and even mass sacrifice to achieve immortality. Enjoy your rest, only perturbed by occasional distant screams

…or perhaps by a large, feral white bear that bursts in to briefly chase you, before disappearing. Veteran travellers may recognise him as the creature of Anurr.

Some of the chain-breaking scrolls of the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company can be found in each of the main rooms, along with some of the Company’s talismans, marked as waypoints, which should be brought to Karsa. See what your character finds.

Finish up here, or meander down a final stairwell to —



THE DUNGEONS

Cold, deteriorating, crumbling — difficult to say if this is a tightly bound knot of underground tunnels, or a torturous weave of lost dungeons. Parts of the floor crumble to reveal abyssal depths below — or suddenly appear beneath your feet, to help your progress. Emptied, creaking bookcases abound. Here and there, you see your reflection in shattered wall-length mirrors, moving differently than you, or just slightly older or younger than you are.

Revived skeletons patrol the corridors, scantily armed with base blades, stones and torches. They largely ignore you, only blocking your path if you near a magically-locked stone door in the back of the Dungeons, from where you hear… human pleas.

■ Door engravings instruct to speak out the three truths of each day. Nearby, you find a mound of crumbled stone tablets, along with three golden ones raised on pedestals that read:

with morning, my body is a weapon, sun-seeking, righteousness-bound

by midday, my flesh has bent and battered, a shield of justice for young life to come

come evening, I am blood and bone, a humble house to hope eternal

■ Tip bookcases into the narrow corridors to prevent the skeletal guards from reaching you, as you search diligently through the stone debris beneath the golden pedestals. You might even find Ellethian waypoint tokens: palm-wide, marked with a sun pupil. Take them to Karsa immediately… or open the now unlocked dungeon door as a man calls out.

Enter, and you discover an dimly lit dungeon alcove, with animate skeletal heads hanging on each wall. They cackle, Mind your step. Heed them and look for holes in the floor tiles — needle-thin spikes emerge from there periodically.

■ Go deeper, and you discover a large bare stone room, scantly livened by torches bearing green fire. A small hole — barely enough to fit a grown man standing and lying down — has been dug into one of the walls and secured. This inhumane prison’s bars crackle and sizzle with magical electricity. A skeletal hound waits by, with a set of keys fastened to its collar.

■ A white-haired, red-eyed twenty-something young man sprawls haphazardly in the prison: battered, swathed in rags, shackled and wild. He holds out his blood-tipped hand between the bars, but fails to lure the dog close — and calls out to you, instead:

You must be mad to come to me. The old man sent you? Finally? Good. How wonderful. I’ll spit on you, and I’ll spit on his grave. He left me here to die. And now he’s remembered me? What does he want? …no. It doesn’t matter. Rip the keys off that mutt and get me out of here.


You can engage or release him, if you coax the key from the recalcitrant dog. Or leave him be and see Karsa with your waypoint token.



NOTES:

■ There are multiple waypoint tokens to leave the time dimension: the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company talismans, hidden in the Ground rooms, and the Ellethian tokens, found in the dungeons. Bring whichever one you discover to Karsa.

■ You can optionally solve the mystery of Lisanther, the prisoner, Manouk and the spectres.

■ The House’s layout changes periodically, but characters can find the stairs to travel across the three levels every few hours.

■ Mention in your top level if you play an old timer or a test driving tourist. TDMers can make both logs and network prompts here!

QUESTIONS & NPC INBOX!

traumatology: (YOR5N9U)

[personal profile] traumatology 2023-08-04 12:26 pm (UTC)(link)
my heart cried everyday you weren't here
wifedup: (viii.)

[personal profile] wifedup 2023-08-04 12:30 pm (UTC)(link)
are the vines just like ... normal but sentient vines, can we chop them if we have something sharp to stop them getting clingy?
wifedup: (vi.)

kitchen! bc i do what i want

[personal profile] wifedup 2023-08-04 12:44 pm (UTC)(link)
( Do not ask why Wen Kexing has returned to the kitchens. He doesn't know, but if he gets trapped inside for another hour then so be it. It is apparently far easier to reside with the gaggle of good-for-nothing ghosts than it is traverse the halls at whim and he needs the space to think. He can't do that if he's evading his own gruesome consumption by bear. Still, he doesn't expect the other person inside, nor the grotesque dog, if the way he pauses just inside the door is anything to go by. )

Ah.

( Well, he had thought Xue Yang a corpse for a second there. The dog pauses it's crunching to growl, and Wen Kexing, unconcerned, raises an eyebrow. )

Are you dying?
curtains: (01)

[personal profile] curtains 2023-08-04 12:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Cocking his head as he munches his mooncake, Xue Yang arches a brow. He knows he looks like shit but why admit it? ]

Eh, what kind of rude 'hello' is that? [ And then, ] Dead people don't even eat.

[ Not in the normal sense, and not cakes. ]
wifedup: (vi.)

[personal profile] wifedup 2023-08-04 12:56 pm (UTC)(link)
They can't have mine, it belongs to another.

( Simply said, as if Wen Kexing is merely here passing the time and not forced into strange acquiescence by forces unknown. Maybe it is arrogance, or maybe it is foolishness, but he clings to that thought regardless. Too many have tried to change him, and the monster he forged to fight back still resides in his skin, ever just under the surface. It doesn't matter here, if he's trying to be better elsewhere. His teeth are still just as sharp.

A vine sprouts out of the ground ahead, aiming to wind around his ankle. Wen Kexing slices it easily in too with the sharp edge of his fan, expression closing off the more he thinks into disinterest.
)

You speak as if you have been here a long time.
wifedup: (iv.)

[personal profile] wifedup 2023-08-04 01:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Don't they?

( Idly, a step further into the room and Wen Kexing removing his fan from his sleeve to cover his face. What the fuck did you do to the soup? To the spectres, Wen Kexing inclines his head. )

If he passes I'm not putting him in the pot.

( There's disheartened grumbling all around. He glances back to Xue Yang and terrifying companion. )

What was it then? Statue? Bear? Your friendly little pet there?
wifedup: (Default)

[personal profile] wifedup 2023-08-04 01:03 pm (UTC)(link)
idk if i'm supposed to put each question on a separate comment so pls forgive but could i find like, something similar to medicinal herbs in the kitchen? i know things like chamomile are good for wound healing ( or so google tells me ) so could i bullshit up something helpful that way? a poultice or a tea etc etc

also ty in advance for the answer / ty for the last answer too lmao
curtains: (60)

[personal profile] curtains 2023-08-04 01:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Xue Yang may have been battered and stabbed and his head may be on fire with a mild concussion, but. He thinks this wise-guy just said he was going to put him in the cooking pot. Wow. ]

Cultivator from a sect.

[ The stab wound goes through his clothes, into his scapula behind and out of the top of his chest where it pierced his left lung. The blood hasn't been stemmed at all. ]

Bao wouldn't hurt a fly. [ 'Bao' is still growling at Wen Kexing as he lowers his head, as if putting fleshy ears back. ] Unless they wanted to become his next meal.

[ So cute! Xue Yang slides off the table with a stumble purely to crouch and pet his skeletal hound. The hand clutching Jiangzai looks like it hasn't moved much and is gripping the sheath in a locked grip. ]
wifedup: (Default)

[personal profile] wifedup 2023-08-04 01:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah, so I wasn't the only one with a bad-tempered admirer outside. Good to know.

( Is he still mad about it? Absolutely. Is he going to ream Zhou Zishu out for it when he gets home? You bet. It doesn't matter that it's not his fault, his stone-self tried to strangle him! They haven't even discussed safe words yet. But, he remembers to keep his smile in place, his fingers easy on the soup ladle. It wouldn't do well to look like he's about to batter someone with it, even if this place keeps pushing him towards it. And so Wen Kexing smiles at Lan Xichen's offer of aid, once more looking the man up and down. He certainly seems like he's capable, not that Wen Kexing actually needs aid. But it wouldn't hurt, and he's so very good at playing a part. )

Would it be remiss to ask my benefactor's name then? Since he is taking the time to help.
lanclan: (29)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-08-04 01:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah! Forgive me.

[ The stranger gets a polite bow in perfect form, xiao in-hand. ]

Lan Xichen, sect leader of Gusu Lan. Zewu-Jun. [ Straightening, he glances around the kitchen and idly taps his flute in a palm. ] Have you seen any spices around? A friend of mine enjoys them.

[ From the sheer amount of food Jiang Cheng has continually brought over for Xichen to eat (habitually forgetting to do so) he ought to owe him several meals, but he suspects a smaller gift would be better received. ]
Edited 2023-08-04 13:28 (UTC)
wifedup: (x.)

[personal profile] wifedup 2023-08-04 01:34 pm (UTC)(link)
( If Wen Kexing were a smarter, no - if he were less bored, he'd turn on his heel and leave. The man in front of him looks like he's about three seconds away from becoming one with the kitchen spirits and his mean, decaying friend there might actually start chewing on the corpse before it's cold. It isn't worth the time, it isn't worth the effort. But. )

It's a good thing I am a philanthropist then.

( Airy, and grand. )

Tell your mutt to settle down. There should be some herbs in the cupboards over there. I saw them earlier. They might help. Or at least, they might make your inevitable demise less agonising. ( A smile, only slightly sharp. ) I'll even brew them for you.
curtains: (92)

[personal profile] curtains 2023-08-04 01:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He blinks up from the floor, quietening Bao who goes back to crushing his bone with one skeletal eye levied on Wen Kexing. Xue Yang rises and looks bewildered, an amused smirk playing on his lips. ]

Why? What do you need from me?

[ Charity isn't really a thing and philanthropists are liars. ]
wifedup: (xiii.)

[personal profile] wifedup 2023-08-04 01:39 pm (UTC)(link)
( So the people are not the only things trapped in this house. He had wondered briefly about the kitchen shades, but in the grand scheme of things their concerns had meant little to Wen Kexing. He had obliged their demands to pass the time, to gather what little intel he could. He wasn't like Lan Wangji, who could merely demand an answer, a skill he'd like to know more of. Another time.

It is a curious thing, to watch this communication. The ghosts are more and more agitated, and the man - well, he's certainly doing something.
)

Where? ( Why is his real question, but it sits unused behind his tongue. ) Wait, what about you? They weren't harming anybody before, but you've got them worked up now.

( Will he let a severe looking cultivator become soup? Maybe. Who knows. )
wifedup: (Default)

[personal profile] wifedup 2023-08-04 01:46 pm (UTC)(link)
( His smile widens just a fraction at her bow. It's passable. He's maybe a little charmed. But then he's returning to the search, cupboard above the sink abandoned to survey the small room, the mournful chatter of their ghostly companion the only backdrop for a second before he speaks again. )

This token, it is for Karsa, yes? That is how we are to leave this place?

( He'd listened, at first, and then as the day had turned more terrible his thoughts had become more disordered. It helps to refocus them now. ) Though you mentioned my being new. Are you an inhabitant of this house?
wifedup: (vi.)

[personal profile] wifedup 2023-08-04 02:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, absolutely nothing.

( He doesn't have any horrifying cannibalistic rituals to follow through, even. The dog seems to have given Wen Kexing enough of an answer, and so he snaps his fan shut to hang it back at his waist, ignoring Xue Yang in favour of heading to the cupboard and the miscellaneous herbs from earlier. Hopefully the ghosts haven't had people use all of them. )

I just like this kitchen. ( Conversationally. ) And dragging a body out of it feels like too much work. There's a bear out there you know.
wifedup: (xii.)

[personal profile] wifedup 2023-08-04 02:28 pm (UTC)(link)
( He hasn't heard of Gusu Lan before, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything, not when Lan Xichen certainly has the bearing of someone important. He's met many middling little sect leaders in his time, he's seen men puff themselves up with nothing to back themselves on. That is certainly not what's happening here. )

Zewu-Jun. It suits you.

( Charming always works, but Wen Kexing returns his bow just as carefully. ) This one is called Wen Kexing. And mm, the cupboard with the slash marks should have something. Though that had nothing to do with me. You might have to examine whatever you find for freshness however, I've had varying success. ( Inclining his head to the spectres. ) It's not like they care to know.
moonsounds: (Ruka (4))

[personal profile] moonsounds 2023-08-04 04:32 pm (UTC)(link)
[She doesn't have any reason to not believe him, so she nods and hands it over. That done, she pulls out her notebook to start writing in it.]

If you need help with them, let me know. [She offers mildly, looking to the dog again curiously.]

Does it have a name?
lanclan: (38)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-08-04 05:36 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He inclines his head gratefully to the compliment and answering bow. Wen Kexing, and the surname barely gives him pause before the slashed cupboard draws his attention and he peeks inside. There are spices and herbs, he briefly enjoys a sniff of crushed chamomile petals before searching for spicier options.

He has no idea what would be best and goes by whatever makes his nose cringe the most, trying one then another, separating the shelves as he goes. ]


I confess, I'm not sure what I'm looking for. In Cloud Recesses, where my sect lives, we don't use a great deal more than salt on the mountain. Could you suggest something and I will look for it?
curtains: (87)

[personal profile] curtains 2023-08-04 05:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[ When he opens his eyes this time, he has no idea how much time has passed and his left arm is hurting from the strain of moving it when the injury is so close (racing around a kitchen waving a sword was not the smartest idea, even if it got the job done). ]

Xingchen?

[ Looks like he's meditating, Xue Yang figures. He leans down off the bed to find a potatocake and stuff it in his mouth, rubbing sleep from his eyes. ]
wifedup: (xiii.)

[personal profile] wifedup 2023-08-04 05:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Then how do you eat? ( Sorry, sorry. He offers a slight apologetic smile almost immediately after, the air of mischievousness returning to his face. ) Ah, now if only this kitchen were truly properly stocked, I feel a great crime has befallen you. Anything red or black should work. Tumeric is bright orange, though I highly doubt it's here. Star anise would be useful if you were braising something but ah --. Hang on.

( He abandons the pot, throwing a warning glance to the ever grumbling ghosts behind him. ) Don't touch that.

( Wiping his hands on an old, and frankly horrifying, towel, Wen Kexing crosses the kitchen in long, easy strides. )

Does your friend know how to cook or do you plan on doing it for them?
curtains: (88)

[personal profile] curtains 2023-08-04 05:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Xue Yang strolls over to the cupboard, peering in with an idle once-over. He reaches past the stranger and takes out everything poisonous to set it aside on a table, giving him a flat look. ]

Now you can use whatever's left. Leave worrying about the bear to Bao, he's a good guard dog.
lanclan: (04)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-08-04 05:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Looks like he's used to the teasing about how bland Gusu's dishes are by the flat, amused look he exchanges with Wen Kexing's apologetic smile. Xichen blanches when cooking is mentioned. ]

Ah, I'm not a good cook. He has more experience than me, I believe. Picture a highly self-sufficient, capable young man: that's his type.

[ If anyone can cook, it will be Wanyin. ]

He brings me meals sometimes, if I skip one. It would be a nice gesture to give him something of worth in return, in the same vein.
brightestmoon: (Default)

[personal profile] brightestmoon 2023-08-04 05:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Xiao Xingchen almost immediately snaps out of his trance when he hears Xue Yang's voice. He feels more relaxed than before, but still on edge. He doubts that feeling is going to go away anytime soon. He turns his head in direction of Xue Yang's voice. ]

Yes?