the house of manouk | test drive meme

[groundrules]

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

---

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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…

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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 —

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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.

Image source.

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!

Comments

[ministries]

[ okay wolfwood can handle a lot of things. and some disembodied voice ignoring him for a bear isn't the worst thing, either. but addressing it so familiarly? what the hell?

and ah, there's the person the voice belongs to. at least it is a person and not his imagination or something worse. ]

He just shows up? [ he looks from the bear to the newcomer, then scowls and rolls his eyes ] I get dropped into fuck knows where and there's some kind of creature that just shows up. Of course there is.

[ he pats down his pockets, looking for his cigarettes. ]

[massrez]

[ He isn't wrong. At least not this time.

As the rain continues to batter them both, Anduin takes a breath. He closes his eyes against the chaos, seeking that spark of calm and serenity at his core. The presence threaded through him, ever-present.

As he grasps it, the Light blossoms forth, extending around them like a protective bubble. Warmth washes away the cold and damp, and their section of the maze is briefly illuminated by the glow. The majority of the attacking vines seem to be pushed back by the spell of sanctuary, singed and retreating back into the wall of the maze.

All except for one tendril, now firmly locked around their wrists, no longer wriggling but rigid as steel, binding them together. ]

[scrapgege]

Well, I have met a few necromancers in my life. And a lot of ghosts and spirits, too.

[Never mind that he looks all of seventeen years old at the most.

What's more surprising is that she has as well, although...

It's different from what he is used to feeling from cultivators, but clearly there's some power brimming inside of her that a normal human would not possess.]

You also don't seem scared of them. I am used to certain people being aware of spirits at all, but there's not many of them, and the ones that aren't tend to be scared, but you're not.

network.

[pepsifree]

[ There's no video on Marty's end, but a lack of visuals doesn't deter from the appalled tone of his voice as he says: ] "Delicious" virgins?

Benedict Fox | The Last Case of Benedict Fox | Tourist

[companionsgrasp]

i. THE TERRACE

[After getting the rundown, Benedict reluctantly set off on the new adventure. He had so many questions but he found by trail and error in the past that if he moved around he would be able to think more clearly than if he stayed put and let his mind run in circles. So he had a new mystery to solve. That was...fine.

He was good at mysteries. And some of the questions had been answered by the lady already. The explanation just left him with more questions, of course. But right now it seemed there was no point in standing around deducting when he could be doing something useful. Besides, he liked the scenery. Might as well explore more of it. And search for the tokens that the lady spoke of.

At some point he got a little too close to one of the vine-covered walls and discovered the prickly thorns were quick to snatch. He managed to prevent himself from getting pulled into the wall and covered by the foliage, but then he realized he hadn't quite been quick enough. A rather persistent vine was still stuck to his hand, the bite of the thorns making him wince. When he followed the trail of green away from his hand he discovered he was not alone anymore. He was bound to someone by the vine's machinations.]

Oh, um. Hello. Sorry about the- [he tugged gently at the vine] It was kind of desperate for attention.

ii. THE GROUNDS

[The shifting maze and house made Benedict feel awfully at home in a manner of speaking. Nothing like getting all twisted up by moving surroundings to make one feel nostalgic for the Void. At least he was used to it. He quickly made his way down the stairs and into the house proper.

Benedict didn't find much of anything useful as he perused the house but he did get caught up in reading some of the materials left scattered in the sleeping quarters. He found the pages to be interesting and curious.

The first scream went unnoticed by him. The second and third, however, caught his attention enough to make him look up from one of the journal pages he had picked up. He glanced around and, spotting someone else, made a comment.]

...I can't decide if that's normal here or if I should be concerned. What do you think?

[Don't ask why he wasn't bothered by potentially ignoring it. Or do, we won't complain. He probably shouldn't be used to strange and terrifying noises in the distance but, well, he was.]

iii. THE DUNGEONS

[By now he should have been more prepared for the unexpected, or so he thought. He hadn't thought of this place as similar to Limbo despite earlier feelings of nostalgia and he regretted that lack of correspondence the first time he stepped out onto a ledge and suddenly found it crumpling beneath his feet. If he died here, would he be Banished and simply return? The thought struck him as absurd even as he reached out to grab hold of something to prevent his fall.

He missed. His hand caught nothing. He wondered again what would happen next, but knew this was not Limbo and thus the rules were quite different. He had no thoughts of panic. A slender tendril of purple-black ink wrapped around a pillar and yanked Benedict back up from the precipice.

He caught the edge this time and hauled himself back onto solid ground. Once secure, he glanced cautiously back over the edge and noted the eternal fall into darkness.]

How quaint. I may have missed out on something.

[Note the flat, grim way he spoke. That was sarcasm.]

iv. THE WILDCARD

[the 'any other scenario' option! anything goes. hmu.]

terrace. | HELLOOOOOooooooo

[pepsifree]

Marty almost thinks he's imagining things when someone stands in the way of what little sunshine makes its way towards him.

Trapped in the maze walls, his eyes widen. There isn't much space in the foliage, but he's absolutely certain that there's someone here. Someone standing. Someone who might even be able to track him?

He tries to call out, but a mouthful of leaves keeps him from doing it. The vines wrapped around his limbs tighten as if aware of his attempts to garner attention, and he lets out a growl as he squirms that much more. If the hedge was any thinner, maybe he'd be able to shake it, but as it is he's trapped so deep within it that the leaves on the outmost parts barely even rustle.

If Jacob's attentive enough, though, he'll see the blood seem to trail deeper into the hedge. It's smudged against the pretty green of the leaves, implying that something bleeding went through it. Considering the sizeable thorn still sticking out of Marty's calve and the blood oozing out around it, a hypothesis of this sort wouldn't be inaccurate at all.

the terrace

[companionsgrasp]

[He was definitely not as strong as Holga. Before he even had a chance to respond to the battleaxe and the command to 'hold still,' Benedict was being yanked off in the direction of the scream. Though he wasn't strong enough to stop her, at least he was agile and quick enough to keep up with her--after the initial bit of stumbling from the unexpected tug that is.]

Do you really think this is a good idea?

[Benedict managed to speak, haltingly, as they raced towards the other end of the maze's corridor. Not that he could really complain, he'd run towards worse things than disembodied screams before.]

oh hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii <3

[nothinglikefather]

Jacob has already spotted the trail of scarlet stains on the ground, crouching down to look at the dirt and the scuffs and disturbances that mark a path from this spot to the thick green hedge. He stays silent for a heartbeat longer, listening intently, barely even breathing. While there's no visible movement in the hedge, there is the softest noise, like leaves rustling deep within, or fabric moving.

Whoever, whatever it is, it's in there.

Moving fast, faster than someone built like Jacob should be able to, he's pushing his way through the twigs and branches, glad of his thick coat which protects him from whatever hidden brambles might be hidden there. And yes, there's the flash of colour, something that isn't the same greens and browns as the plants around him. Very much around him, Jacob realises- the vines are ropes, coiled around his limbs to keep him still, to keep him trapped.

Well thankfully, Jacob has something that works wonders against overgrown weeds- the blade at his wrist slides free, and he slices- carefully aiming for the part of the vine that joins the mother plant, so he doesn't accidentally catch the young man held prisoner.

"As soon as you're free, run." He hisses, but the plant seems to already be aware of his presence, sliding its tendrils out to catch hold of Jacob too- or trying.

[blackscales]

[ Usually, when drastic measures are called for, Wrathion is the one enacting them. He'd begun to brace himself, even as Anduin had closed his eyes, trying to decide. Should he take his true form? He could absolutely break all the vines that way --

A wave of magic washes over him. Warm, reassuring, and recognisably Anduin. Something about the Light always makes it hard to stay in a bad mood. Manipulative, but begrudgingly he cannot be annoyed about it right now. He looks up as the the bubble extends, watching the vines as they are burned back, and his expression brightens.

In a total coincidence, the storm begins to ease too. The rain begins to abate, and the oppressive heat to ease. ]

Excellent work! I knew you had it in you.

[ Well done, sidekick. Wrathion, naturally the main character of life, takes stock of the situation. One problem down, what next? ]

Now to get out of this maze --

[ He turns to move, and immediately finds his wrist... has additional weight. ]

Titans, now what?

[ He begins digging in his coat for something... suitably small to try and cut through the vine with. It's an awkward process, one handed. ]

[pepsifree]

[ Marty thinks of a joke or a quip, something about how it sounds like the world outside's in grave danger, but Nynaeve's words give him pause instead.

You're not alone, she'd said. A mix of relief and embarrassment at being relieved shuts him right up, and Marty turns back to his work. ]

Thanks, Nynaeve. [ That feels more important to admit than anything else. ] Y'know, I... probably wouldn't have gotten over bein' terrified of Tub Guy if you weren't here. So thanks.

[ He presses the sole of one shoe flat against a closed cabinet door for leverage. ] I'm Marty, by the way.

[ If he jimmies this rusty pipe the right way and tugs with just enough pressure, it should come loose. Frowning to himself, Marty tilts his body and tugs. The pipe rattles, shuddering from the pressure, and-- ] Aha! [ --snaps right off! The resulting ooze of sludge is disgusting. ]

Aw, God...!

ii Grounds

[recklessenough]

[ Lockwood needed to sleep.

He couldn't recall the last time he'd slept but he was pretty sure it had been in the haunted cottage back in Yancai. Not only back in Yancai, but before the last time shift. He'd catnapped here and there, but nothing significant. Now, he'd managed to wait out the bathrooms until they were clear enough to use to clean up, and was trying to stretch out and actually sleep.

The screams had become background noise at this point. He'd had his fill of jumping at every shout in the beginning, with the maze. It had forced him to accept that whoever -or whatever- was screaming, no matter how hard he tried; he couldn't help. It wasn't a comfortable feeling, and Lockwood expected he'd be wrestling with his survivor's guilt soon enough. But that was going to have to be a 'later Lockwood' problem.

He had to get some sleep.

...

Except he seemed to have picked up a curious roommate somewhere along the line.

Without opening his eyes, he lay on his back with his hands crossed over the hilt of his rapier, which was resting on his chest, Lockwood responded. ]

Regretfully normal I'm afraid. At this point, I don't intend to move unless the large white bear puts in another appearance.

[recklessenough]

Submitting one A+ Dawn Reach Trade talisman to Karsa!

It was found when Lockwood secured a pot to boil water before he made his offer to the network to brew tea. Here is a thread with tea brewing action involved!

[recklessenough]

[ Her question catches him a little off guard, which is rare for Lockwood and expressed through a series of quick blinks. Following the surprise, comes a wash of gratitude that she would ask rather than simply go forward with her plans. On the heels of that, is the rare decision to answer with complete honesty. ]

I cannot say that I am; comfortable with the concept. [ He responds, stepping back up to where she stands at the table with the tea leaves and the little pot for boiling water. ] But that is because the only 'magic' in my world is usually the result of occult trying to harness the forces of the dead for their own gain. Often because they tend to 'source' the dead they need.

[ Lockwood's expression softens to one of apology, as if he feels responsible for the fact that his Earth reality is inhabited by some very selfish, horrible people. In the next breath, he motions towards the pot. ]

I'm trying to get better about my prejudices here. Please, go ahead and do what you wish. If a hot cup of tea is the result, my prejudices can go lump it. [ A quick, strained but genuinely warm smile. He is trying to be better. ]

[bravelyrunsaway]

"Nope!" Cheerfully said, because Licyn has zero intention to lead any of this beyond where they've arrived. Five can be point person, especially since he can flee at the drop of an eyelid into a blink.

[massrez]

[ Thankfully, there's no argument to be had about 'seeing things'. If the other man is here under the same conditions he is? He's seen the other spectres in this place. He knows what's possible.

That soft face hardens with a severe expression, nodding as he looks back towards the bathtub. ]

I'd been looking near the bottom. The tiles appeared raised, as if someone had moved them recently. Then I saw movement from the corner of my eye...

[ His brow furrows, and he steps closer once again, this time addressing the once-more unseen figure. ]

I'm sorry for having disturbed you. If you'd be willing to help us, we would be most grateful.

[massrez]

[ ...the remarks are odd, hinting at something he's not quite privy to. It needles the back of his mind, like a bit of sharp straw caught in the back of one's tunic.

But he can puzzle it over in his own time. They've a task to see through, for the moment. Anduin's attention flickers back to the ghost as his new companion speaks again.

He speaks true, at that. The young king can tell as well that she is not some ravening ghoul, her presence calmer than the others. Mad? Perhaps. Anyone would turn to madness with enough time in this place.

But she is a person, like all the others here. She deserves that same dignity and courtesy, regardless. ]

We seek only that which was placed here and does not belong.

[ His gaze drops briefly to those disturbed tiles at the foot of the bathtub before lifting to meet her eerily blank eyes. ]

May I?

[massrez]

Searching the tiles around the bathtub for a talisman, and chatting with the ghost lady!

[mashiara]

( She's refolding the towel, glancing back his way. She offers a tight smile in response to the thanks, nodding her head once. )

Circumstances aside, well met, Marty.

( Then there goes the pipe out of the wall, to some degree, and sludge dripping out with such an unpleasant viscosity that she almost, almost, feels part of her stomach turn a touch. Instead, she tosses the folded towel his way: )

Here, towel!

( And wheels back to where she left the bucket, two steps over, grabbing it, three steps to him, and crouching down to shove it under the sink, catching some of where the sludge burbles out, thick like tarry mud and algae films over still waters. )

Maybe slightly less enthusiasm with the pipes in here?

[seaboard]

[She shakes her head just as furiously to halt him from taking of suddenly. ]

It's not just the spikes - watch.

[ she lets him go, and instead looks around them for something. Anything heavy enough, will do, and she finds-

It's a skull. One that has an old and half rusted helmet on it. Saying a prayer for disturbing it to herself she bundles it all up in both hands before she comes up to the edge.

And tosses it as hard as she can (which is surprisingly, not nothing, as it turns out), over the stones of the bridge.

It lands with a thud, the first stone it lands on is safe, but then bounces again, and when it lands the second time - the stone cracks open and falls away to the dark below. Swallowing the skull into the darkness.

She turns back to him, pointing. ]

Some of them are false, and they fall away the second you step on them.

[massrez]

[ As the warmth fades, Anduin moves too. Just as Wrathion does, it seems, and the two find out in tandem exactly what's happened.

Really? Now this? By the Light, if anything else could go wrong, surely it was about it.

With a frown Anduin lifts his arm, and Wrathion's along with it, to examine the situation more closely as the black dragon digs through his pockets for an answer. ]

Now, we work on finding a way through this maze. We can deal with this later, but if the vines return -- or worse -- we're likely to be at a disadvantage.

[ His mouth thins tightly. ]

I don't like it, either. But we have to move. Now.

[blackscales]

[ Wrathion scowls in irritation. ]

My dagger. He never returned my dagger!

[ He had such a nice one, something that would have been perfect for this, and Lan Wangji threw it at a fish! He'll have to remind him that he was meant to replace it. ]

We'll find something elsewhere.

[ Surely they can find something to cut this? Wrathion gives a sharp whistle, glancing around, but nothing immediately seems to happen. ]

This way.

[ Said assuredly, as he picks a direction, although based on what is unclear. He glances at Anduin, eyes skimming over him. ]

You are otherwise... unharmed?

[massrez]

[ The petty thought emerges that of course Wrathion believes he is the one to lead the two of them. The more rational part of him says Anduin himself doesn't really know where they're going any better.

The rain would have washed away any marks he'd made along the way, as it is. Light help him.

With a sigh, he reaches for the knife on his belt, passing it over to the black dragon as they walk. ]

Lost, confused, but unharmed. I don't suppose you know how it is that we arrived here.

[ If there's a slightly accusatory tone to his voice, it's probably just Wrathion's imagination. Surely. ]

[blackscales]

[ Aha! Wrathion accepts the knife, leans over their wrists and begins trying to cut at their vines.

Initial results are not... promising. His answer has a slightly distracted tone, attention briefly split between the vines and Anduin. ]

This is a time pocket. A village along the coast tried to protect itself from being conquered by the undead legions with a spell that trapped it in a time loop. It seems that in undoing the endless time loop, we've been ejected into this pocket. I believe there are some waypoints that should help us find our way back.

[nothinglikefather]

[ Jacob looks over to the tiles and yes, he can see exactly what the knight means. They've been lifted and not properly put down again, as of someone had stowed something beneath.

He's about to approach himself, use the hidden blade to lift the tiles once more and find out what is below. But then the knight speaks again and not to him, but at the... the ghost he saw? ]

You're asking for its help? Is that a good idea?

[ He doesn't like it. Doesn't believe that they can possibly be ghosts, that there's another explanation here. He just doesnt know what that explanation is.

But as if summoned by the knight's entreaties, the figure appears again in the tub.]

[nothinglikefather]

[ One thing is for sure, if this lady joined a cricket team she'd make a fearsome bowler.]

That's a very good demonstration. I was planning on not touching any of the stones at all.

[ He's fairly such the grapple will work, allowing him to swing across. He could probably swing her across too, for that matter. It's not often that someone he meets spots things like that. ]

I think I can get us across, with a rope and grapple.