westwhere | the house of manouk

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

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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.

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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!

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There are golden tablets! Three of them!

[ He leads Xingchen to one before rushing to the edge of the stairs where he starts toppling bookcases to give them more time, shouting for Bao to return. Xue Yang hurries back and reads the three inscriptions. ]

'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'.

"Seeking life eternal" are all inscribed with different ink.

I suppose you may be right.

[He said as he cocked his head to listen for another scream in the distance. They did seem to be fairly frequent. And he had yet to find anyone when he went to investigate. His attention focused back on the youth laying down as the second part of that registered.]

...Did you say 'bear'? Is that encounter common?

[ Clara may still be glowing from the last time she saw Red. It was the happiest she's been, and now, seeing Red, she's grinning like a doofus. Then she shrugs good-naturedly. ]

What can I say, I like to know things about people. Although, I only use my snooping powers for good, now.

[ If they don't find anything in the first bedroom, they can just go to another. Reaching out for Red's hand, she looks shy, her expression asking is this okay? But it isn't what she says.]

Ready to go dig through some dead people's stuff?

[ Bao comes running up the stairs when called, a leg bone between his jaws. Xiao Xingchen feels some relief hearing the dog return. He's always liked animals and apparently that extends to skeletal demon dogs.

While Xue Yang reads the inscriptions, Xiao Xingchen tries to make himself useful by searching around the pillars for anything useful. ]

"Seeking life eternal"? Is it some sort of passcode perhaps?

[ He questions as his hands rummage through the debris, until he finds something. He can't see what it is of course, but he's found a waypoint token with a sun on it. He turns to Xue Yang and holds it for him to see. ]

I found this too. Is it something? [ He hopes he didn't just pick up some garbage. ]

[ Lockwood opened his mouth to say that in his experience? No it was not that common. But he stopped himself as he was forced, instead, to admit. ]

I am not the person you should be asking that question. I haven't been with the group all that long myself.

For me? It is certainly not a common event. But I've heard some of the others speaking about the bear as if they've had prior experience with it.

Hah! It's also gold with a sun etched into it, it looks important! Maybe that's why they don't want us coming up here? Good work finding it!

[ He re-reads the inscription it commit it to memory but there's no need; the dungeon door behind starts to grind open after the third recitation. Xue Yang looks up to see many more skeletons clambering up the stairs and he tugs at Xingchen. ]

The door's opening, let's get out of here. We can always fight our way back out later!

[ Her decision made, Lockwood set himself to the self-soothing task of brewing her a cup of the mint tea. George was definitely the master of offering comfort through food and drink, but Lockwood had enough skill that he wouldn't disgrace himself. ]

Adults can't see or sense the Visitors. [ He's been learning what it means to avoid burying the lead. ] Most children are born with some level of psychic sensitivity. The three most recognized Talents are Sight, Listening and Touch.

Those of us with enough sensitivity and skill, when we reach the age of thirteen we can take jobs as agents.

[ Tea leaves added to hot water, he turns to rest his hip against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest as he waits for it to steep. ]

Adults lock themselves inside fortified abodes at night, we patrol and deal with the Visitors. As a rule of thumb, if you reach your early twenties, your talent begins to fade and eventually ... [ He shrugs. ]

Adult agents can help with research, some tactics, but the majority of them stay behind iron cast doors.

[ He reaches for the mug, removing the tea ball and giving it a cautious sniff -still smells like mint- before holding it out towards her. ]

Before you ask [ just going to assume she might ask; he can be a bit of a dickhead like that ] I've been fighting Visitors since I was six years old.

So, it does have something to do with the group rather than this place specifically.

[So it sounded from that answer. Benedict gazed thoughtfully into the ether as he considered the information. He blinked out of it to continue the conversation a few seconds later.]

I wonder what makes it special. Why is it following this group? Normal bears don't do that sort of thing. I wonder if it belonged to someone or if it's just a...perception? Or a creation. Mistake? If it's not tame, maybe...

[ After a moment's pause, Lockwood sat up slowly. He carefully set his rapier to the side of the couch he had claimed as a sleep spot, before turning to give the stranger a quizzical look. ]

Do you always ask so many questions?

[He blinked at Lockwood.]

Yes. Occupational hazard. [beat] I'm a detective. I like solving a good mystery.

Not a fan of questions, I take it? [He said with a slight twitch at the corner of his lips, the only sign that he knew exactly what he was doing by asking yet another question.]

So basically, you're the Robin Hood of snooping, I see.

( Red's hand squeezes Clara in answer to the unspoken question as she smiles at her - something brighter in her eyes after that particular evening, yes. She hasn't had a good evening like that in-

Gods, she doesn't even know. )

I thought you'd never ask. Let's see what we can dig up - preferably one of those way point tokens.

A spirit-- [ Marty scoffs. ] No! Get outta here.

I'm Marty. [ He says this as if it explains everything. ]

Why the hell do you want virgins, lady?

I don't make a habit of attacking things before they've done something wrong. The bear is smarter than it looks. It comes around every so often and while it freaks some people out, it never actually hurts anyone. So are you sure that's a fight you want to pick?

Not sure.

[She knows it's probably not that simple, but she reaches down with her free hand.]

You think it's too much to hope that a sharp enough blade could do the trick?

[She still has her stiletto knife in her boot.]

I really hope not, but unfortunately, based on past experience, I'm unable to currently rule that out.

[Especially since they just broke their way out of a time loop spell.]

He shakes his head. In a room full of spirits with shackles they should probably be a lot more focused here, but at some point it feels like they're just along for a ride. Licyn clearly is.

"You were hoping someone would come do the leg work for you, is that it?" Five could blink away before his answer, but he decides to wait to hear it. Evidently weeks of running around chasing clues and trying to prevent a time paradox was enough for him. This time the danger is less immediate, so he can waste a few to judge someone for their lack of initiative.

Funny that a man fears death and fears the way to avoid it?

( So dry, her tone at the moment. So unfurling, the way of his madness, whatever taste it might bear. )

And we keep on living, so the hurting and suffering isn't all a life is.

[ That earns another grin, and Clara has to admit, she feels a lot better about exploring potentially scary shit with Red holding her hand. ]

I hope we find something. It's been nice feeling useful and not...damsel-y.

[ She has a torch from her bag, and flips it on as they head deeper down a hallway toward one of the first partially open doors. ]

Last time we had a ghost situation together, wasn't it that weird tea party? I think they threw forks at us?

[ It feels like another version of her went through Serthica, it feels like a fever dream, honestly ]

"Me? Hardly. I'm looking for good places to nap. Being helpful to anyone but Karsa feels like a waste of time, but it's entertaining, I suppose. Mostly because the ghosts here don't bite."

Unlike some ghosts they've encountered, who've been far more of a problem.

[ There's a reason Five has such a hard time reading Wangji. He'll make it clear that he doesn't trust him, then in the next breath decide to work with him after all. He assumes that's because he has faith in Five's ability to get things done, even if he doesn't like him on a fundamental level.

In that way at least, he can find some common ground. Unfortunately, it doesn't make what he offers particularly useful. This is supposedly a place for people who were so dangerous they needed to be removed from the timeline, of course they'd have a screw loose. ]

Well, it's nice to know there's at least two that are potentially alive. [ Probably more. ] I'd assume he doesn't know about the waypoints, or he'd be out here looking for the way out. And you wouldn't have mentioned them to him, would you?

( Wei Wuxian turns, freed from his husband's embrace, back toward him, to the space that stretches partly between them, one exhalation to the next. The ghost climbs the tub, settles on it, tries to set one foot outside, drips water while he doesn't quite manage the step out yet.

Wei Wuxian, eyes drinking in the blossom across his husband's cheek, and his own smile, different and promising in ways they keep saying later and after and soon towards. He reaches out, fingers tugging at Lan Zhan's waistband, even as he rounds him. Even as he looks toward the young man perched for freedom, gaze wide, still hopeful, still hungry.

It's such a different hunger than the despairs he's used to. What do you think, he wants to ask Lan Zhan, He really wants? Wei Wuxian keeps his fingers hooked into Lan Zhan's robes, the impulsive, impish tug of it, while his free hand lifts, extends to the young man caught in the translucence of his youth until he eventually fades.

There's a warmth to those fingers, to the weight of them, damp, in Wei Wuxian's hand. To the ghost who anchors himself with that hand, who levers upward, to feet finding purchase on tiles that flicker brilliant white to mottled, blood-splattered neglect. )

Soothing or vengeance, ah?

( Tremulous, that smile. Stark naked, the whole of him. There are ghosts who wear their deaths well, and so does this one, golden and sun-kissed and sky-eyed, the light of day to the night's skies found in both his gaze and that of his husband's. He shifts his grip, Lan Zhan tugged close, don't leave. The ghost, offered the escort of another step closer, eyes falling downcast, the false flush of youth and embarrassment highlighting a cheek structure, a nose, unlike those they'd grown up surrounded by. )

Some people are simpler than we are.

[ Xiao Xingchen feels relieved that he might've found something useful, and tucks it into his robes for safekeeping until they can figure out what it's for. He perks up when he hears the grinding of something opening, and easily lets Xue Yang pull him along, Bao at his heels.

Once they're through, the door closes behind them. From above them he can hear some very unsettling cackling. ] What is that?

Ah.

( Quite a heavy amount of knowing in that single syllable. There's something almost ... pathetic about Xue Yang, his snarling aura aside. Like a kitten doomed to be drowned in a river. Gu Xiang had cried when that happened, he remembers, and Wen Kexing has to wonder if there'll be anyone to weep for this one too. )

Well, you're not going to regain your property in that state. It must not mean all that much to you then. ( Easy, lofty, though he's still sorting the herbs. ) How about I hand you a kitchen knife so you can finish the job, mm?

Mm.

( More so than he'd like to let on, really. Wen Kexing's feelings over Zhou Zishu are often complicated, ensnarled things. He doesn't like the reminder of what he's currently missing to be so ... blatant. )

It did not look like him before.

( Enough of a warning for the magic here, he thinks. Unless this stranger thinks he's insane. He wouldn't care either way, he is. )

Forgive me, Daozhang, but should you be out here alone. There is strange magic about.

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the house of manouk | test drive meme

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