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.

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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!

Comments

[subecho]

You cannot fault me, after what he has brought home.

[bravelyrunsaway]

You could try asking him nicely. Or her. Could be a her.

( The bone hound turns sightless sockets between the two men, utterly unconcerned. Then once more nuzzling into Licyn's chest and presenting... the lack of an ear. For scritches.

He grimaces, and haltingly complies, nails scraping against... bone. )

[wifedup]

Whatever it is, don't attribute it to my skill alone. I - ( A once more pointed glance at his spectral guides ) - am a far better cook than this. But they're pushy.

( And Wen Kexing might have once pronounced himself master of all ghosts, but this is a shade unknown to even him. Still, his gaze is inquisitive, when it lands on the newcomer, dark eyes thoughtful amidst the steam. He is not unlike his current captors in that, he too, has a need to know everything. He just isn't as quick to demand stories. Sharp prodding interrupts him once more to his side and he heaves another noisy sigh before carefully lifting something in a small black vial to add to the soup, only coughing once when the noxious flames start stinging his eyes. )

I would advise against sampling it, though thankfully they seem to be doing enough of that on their own. ( Or at least, that is what he thinks the ghosts are doing when they half disappear inside the cauldron. ) We're in for a wait, either way.

[asofwar]

I fault you. You enable.

[weifinder]

( Wei Wuxian continues studying Wen Kexing more than the statue, until a sense of movement pulls his attention, and his hand drops down from his chin, reaching for his flute. )

Poor imitation to the truth, yes, but not possessed, so I might suggest we move on. It's getting, ah, lively.

( A glance indicates to him it is, not so surprisingly, trying to affect the look of Zhou Zishu, but much more bothersome is the way it tries moving.

By stepping right off the pedestal. )

Very lively. You don't happen to have stone breaking techniques?

( Wei Wuxian asks, chipper enough, even as he's starting to move further up the visible lane in the maze, away from this statue. )

[wifedup]

Not that you know of.

( He says it with a smile, like this is a pleasant conversation had anywhere, certainly a place without a wailing backdrop. The ghost, for that is what she must be, starts babbling about a birth, Wen Kexing looks away from her to the young woman beside him and shrugs. )

She's mentioned that too. I've tried figuring out if it's some kind of code, but --.

( Notoriously bad with codes. Zhou Zishu would have cracked it. )

[weifinder]

Doesn't sound like you had any better luck, ah?

[bravelyrunsaway]

The dead are all pushy around here. These ones don't seem to be after your breath, love, I'll count that blessing.

( Though he does leave his companion to the prodding and pushing of being chef for spirits who he's fairly sure don't have any means of tasting whatever they're asking after. Instead, he sets to exploring the kitchen, jerking back when a ghost manifests in a cabinet he opens, gritting his teeth and waving a hand at it as if that'll cause the ghost to dissipate like smoke. )

Searing impossible to deal with these things... oh, look! Apples.

( He pulls one out, examining it with a curious eye and a sniff. )

Wormy apples.

( One of the ghosts leans in front of Wen Kexing's face, making a demand for fat, white worms in response. )

How do you know about the wait?

[groundrules]

The high-most shelves, clumsily held up by chains that connect to the ceiling, a little rattled and worse for the wear. Made of creaking, easily splintered wood. Their balance loosens, if they're touched too suddenly, let alone if a grown man sets its whole weight upon them. Good luck.

On the third wall shelf from the ceiling, on the right side, Licyn's far too sharp nose might be attracted by the scent of mixed cooking herbs. They are significantly fresher, compared to the other ingredients in the kitchen, suggesting they are newer supplies. The herbs are kept in small glass jars.

One such jar contains cinnamon sticks... and a very thinly rolled scroll. Unrolled, it shows a part of a page of an incantation, deliberately ripped. A wax seal on the paper illustrates the mark of the Dawn's Reach Trade Company. On the back of the scroll, someone has written in poorly mixed ink and presumed haste:

All debts repaid.

We know.


You will need at least another incantation part — check in with someone else who found an incantation sheet, and decide whether to take the pages back to Lisanther or hold on to the clues and ignore his plight!

[reparo]

Some Christmas turkeys may have suffered, but they were dead when we got them. [ This is also said with a smile, because she is going to stubbornly insist that the Granger clan is non-violent.

Hermione might be the exception, so she should not be taken into account for the data counting.

Thankfully (??) the ghost moves onto the next story, this one of a patron of the bath giving birth here. And this young man calling it a code, which prompts A Look. ]

N...o? She's talking about someone having a baby in here. At some point.

[ To the ghost. ] What happened to the baby? Did they grow up in this...place?

[subecho]

Life enables him. Perhaps we should curtail it.

[wifedup]

forgive me bc i could just be missing the complete obvious, but the statues, do they want something from whoever they're following? are they murdering? do they just want to feel the loving warmth of a human's touch?

[subecho]

How dare you?

I am proficient in............ bear.

[bravelyrunsaway]

Excellent, thank you! I'll have him toss up a note on network after I've worked this into a thread with someone.

For any fellow players reading: Licyn votes not to give it to Lisanther, because the Dawn's Reach Trade Company has been tied to a lot of Horrible Things, but anyone's willing to either steal or convince him otherwise!

[asofwar]

Thor. The bear - focus on the bear. The bear is here, your brother is not. No helm needed, but a cape, yes?

[weifinder]

You bearly handled it, I can tell.

[groundrules]

That's definitely mea culpa and a missing instruction! They're mostly looking to throttle, but you're welcome to have them just give chase too! A further note has now been added to the event wrap, but feel free to just have the statues pursue. They're (un)friendly creepers like that!

ii

[nochnaya]

[ Merrin isn't much for cooking—that's more Greez's purview—but she's decent enough to be able to feed herself, if necessary. That said, it is, perhaps, generous to call this cooking—she's sprinkling arsenic into a cauldron, after all.

She glances up from her task when she's addressed, raising her eyebrows as if to say me? But all the spirits turn to look at her too, and expectantly, so yes, she supposes her.

Honestly, she isn't much for storytelling either, and her people aren't really the sentimental type. They don't have too many love stories, and the ones they do have either end in tragedy or function as warnings against putting love above power and your sisters. They aren't fun stories, but that's Nightsisters for you. ]

You do not know any love stories?

[ That's directed towards the other woman, who she noticed had seemed strangely adamant against telling a story. ]

[subecho]

...we are certain he is not here? Dressed in the skins of a handsome snake? Hiding as a rock? In the bushes?

[subecho]

Sif, search the bushes.

can you threadjack on a tdm? idk man but w/e w/e w/e

[gameplaying]

Jealousy does not become you.

[pacificator]

Are you kidding me right now?

[ Wow. Okay. Maybe she's not the best knock-knock joke teller in the world, but at least she knows what's supposed to come next. She scrunches her brows into a frown and gives him a look that's both bemused and annoyed. ]

The issue here is very obviously not me. [ For once. ] Way to drop the ball, Blondie. Look –

[ She directs it toward the murmuring specters. Impossible to tell if they're disappointed or not. ]

Can't we just use salt? Wouldn't that be easier on everybody? Please. This guy probably thinks a punchline is something he can do with his fist.

[asofwar]

I am not playing go fetch.

[wifedup]

Oh, now you chase me.

( Which probably doesn't make sense but Wen Kexing thinks he's funny. It would be funnier still if Zhou Zishu were actually with him to hear the grumbling, embittered comment. But he isn't, and this uncanny version of him seems to have inherited his likeness' eagerness in making attempts on his life, if the way his stone arms swing in Wen Kexing's direction are anything to go by. There is a second where he thinks of hitting out at it, but a glance to Wei Wuxian's retreating form has Wen Kexing giving up to follow hot on his heels. )

Do you know what they are? ( Because he's been through a lot today already, and he would like it to stop. A part of him wonders if fighting it would work, but the more it shifts to look like that, the more he worries about the state of the actual man. He doesn't know how, or why, and if they're connected Wen Kexing is reluctant to harm them. ) Or why they're so angry?

[subecho]

You are mouthy, and the bear likes you not.