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!

rehandle: (100)

[personal profile] rehandle 2023-08-07 08:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[ A little smirk to himself at her concession - I'll let you know - as he continues to rifle through the fallen pages. It's easier for the both of them if he puts only half of his attention on her for this, in case there's anything particularly delicate that needs saying...

But the cause of the rainclouds doesn't seem too bleak, at least not in what she's choosing to say out loud. So he lands her with his attention again, brow raised, just the cautious side of teasing. ]


I'll let Wong know you need a recap on meditative calm.
brightestmoon: (Default)

[personal profile] brightestmoon 2023-08-07 09:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Xiao Xingchen is already moving to grab Xue Yang's hand again when he hears the warning. Of course this place has spike traps! ]

Alright. [ He murmurs and presses as close as he feels comfortable doing, which is perhaps surprisingly close. Despite everything, he had become used to Xue Yang and the way he would always invade his personal space back then. ]
moonsounds: (Ruka (2))

[personal profile] moonsounds 2023-08-07 09:16 pm (UTC)(link)
It's kinder than what they could've done. [If they're stuck here anyhow, they could've just been left to fend for themselves entirely. Having some help, mysterious as the motives may be, is at least something.

But she turns and looks at him, curious and searching.
] Most of us aren't exactly soldiers. [She pauses, considering, and then amends] Well, maybe that's not true, but I know I'm not one. It'd probably do me better if I was. [Oh well. For now she'll have to make do with being a liability with a notebook and make sure to stay out of the way.

She doesn't seem too upset about it either way, but then she's been almost unnaturally calm for a while now so
]
thirsty: (pic#16636512)

[personal profile] thirsty 2023-08-07 09:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh no, did you think I was being for real? That was all make believe! It was just, um, practice for my LARPing group.

And this is my LARPing costume, so that is why I look like a smoking hot piece of ass and not a sexless little dweeb. What a funny little mix up!
thirsty: (pic#16636543)

[personal profile] thirsty 2023-08-07 09:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Don't you tell me to get out! You get out!

Get out and do your spying like a man instead of hiding inside of a pocket watch like a coward!
Edited 2023-08-07 21:42 (UTC)
makemeasong: (Default)

Re: QUESTIONS

[personal profile] makemeasong 2023-08-07 09:58 pm (UTC)(link)
This is probably my fault, but my intention had been to find this through Clara's top level. Since it happened late, I totally get not turning in a link, but can I still post to the network or is that off the table as a clue now? The thread is in progress, Clara just hasn't actually found it yet.
downswing: (brokerage)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-08-07 10:06 pm (UTC)(link)


Limpid. ( If seemingly logged in the annals of Lan Wangji's private understanding with profound, long-learned, scathing indifference. He does not shiver beneath the weight of a blood-burdened glance. Swallows and feels, in the back of his mouth, the ashes of another man's anger.

And attends to the spirits, still, calling them close with curls and coils of fragile fingers, bidding their time. Work must be done, despite the petty interference of one man's hubris in the strict, claustrophobic confines of a kitchen run derelict and its wars of soot. )


Then, he did not return with you. ( Perhaps, more the blessing. )

aprescoup: (Default)

[personal profile] aprescoup 2023-08-07 10:15 pm (UTC)(link)


Yes... yes... what is there to fear?

( Look, how he waves his cane, how he points each way about himself. Energetic, overwhelmed. ) We could have brought him back, we could have! Like a... a beautiful pet.

( Like a dead thing, stirred. )

makemeasong: (ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑒)

[personal profile] makemeasong 2023-08-07 10:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Fucking hell, that's quite the job for a first-grader. That had to be scary at first, yeah? Or maybe not, since it's all normal.

[ She's trying to imagine some of the kids she's nannied over the years having to be serious about an actual job with stakes. No way. ]

How do you actually stop the ghosts, or get them to 'move on?' Everything I know about ghosts, I learned from this place and bad horror films, sorry if anything I'm asking should be obvious, even for a non-ghost world person.
makemeasong: (ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢)

[personal profile] makemeasong 2023-08-07 10:39 pm (UTC)(link)
No way our luck is that good—right?

[ Clara's realized nothing in this world likes her enough to go easy. ]

I have a blade in my bag if you can grab it, and then we can hope it's a good luck day.
downswing: (dialect)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-08-07 10:40 pm (UTC)(link)
You speak in tongues.

Yet before, no madness.
traumatology: (bucky-tfatws-00046)

[personal profile] traumatology 2023-08-07 11:53 pm (UTC)(link)
No, we haven't been here for that long.

( which, like she said, wouldn't be all that good. but, the past few places haven't been great either. )

We tend to move a lot. A few places ago, we were in literal Hell.

( an experience he would like to forget. )
pacificator: (hoi_50)

[personal profile] pacificator 2023-08-08 12:01 am (UTC)(link)
A whole hell of a lot of thorns. Like, Sleeping Beauty's castle-level thorns.

[ Who knows if she understands that reference; Wynonna figures the context is clear enough. ]

And this crazy old man kind of... wandering around? Muttering to himself, all that jazz. Did I get trapped in a Stephen King Book?
pacificator: (hoi_79)

[personal profile] pacificator 2023-08-08 12:06 am (UTC)(link)
One, two, three

[ Down goes the bookcase, tumbling almost onto a skeleton that has shambled just a little too close to their heels. Ancient books go sprawling into the choking cloud of dust that rises, and Wynonna winces at the squeak of distress Waverly would be making, were Waverly here.

She's not, which is for the best. What is here is her strange companion, a sulking gun, and the oh-so-inviting yawning black maw of an opening into the stone wall, complete with that damp, mildewy smell she associates all too clearly with multiple instance of getting jumped by something supernatural and scary in the past.

But there are stairs. ]


Onwards and downwards?

[ Honestly, where else are they able to go? ]
pacificator: (hoi_50)

[personal profile] pacificator 2023-08-08 12:09 am (UTC)(link)
Ooh, yeah, glad I missed that stop. There are bunch of people down there who would not be happy to see me.

[ Or maybe they would, knowing she's getting her fair share of torment. She might argue she gets that just by living in Purgatory, but she's found revs can be a bit sensitive about making those distinctions. ]

So, we gotta find some magic whatevers to get out of here?
pepsifree: (pic#16613940)

[personal profile] pepsifree 2023-08-08 12:58 am (UTC)(link)
I'm not spying--

[ Once upon a time, being called a coward would've had Marty yelling right back. But as it is all he does is finagle with things until he's got his own visual feed going.

On the image, Marty frowns. ]
You put this out over TV waves, you dork.
thirsty: (pic#16636539)

[personal profile] thirsty 2023-08-08 01:07 am (UTC)(link)
Madness? No, no, no! It's extremely pathetic but not actually crazy.
thewarder: (pic#16615917)

[personal profile] thewarder 2023-08-08 01:30 am (UTC)(link)
[He can't help but chuckle at that, the idea of it being recycling is humorous enough that he can't help but let his guard down and be amused by that.]

Well, I suppose you could call it something like that.

[He nods, she's right about ignoring the things that aren't actually bothering you at the moment.]

So, we need to find these... waypoints? I believe that's what she called him, maybe we should head deeper into the house if we think they're here.
thewarder: (pic#16615919)

[personal profile] thewarder 2023-08-08 01:38 am (UTC)(link)
Even the walls are trying to eat you, Wisdom.

[ He let's his hand brush across the small of her back as he cuts away at another vine passing along side her. He's almost too distracted by the touch to notice the stairway, but he catches a glance at it and holds his sword out cautiously.]

Would Necromancers build their houses underground? [ He asks her as he motions to the stairway down that has been revealed to them.]
thewarder: (pic#16602466)

[personal profile] thewarder 2023-08-08 01:44 am (UTC)(link)
[Well, that's a lot of information for Lan to process, but he tries to work his way through it carefully.]

Ah, I fear Lan is my given name. So they are not my kin. [In fact, his kin has all been killed when he was a baby so it would be even more unlikely.]

These visions you speak of? Are they something you've always had the ability to check into, or is it related to this new land we are in?

[ He goes up to the edge of the hedge and glance around it to make it clear and motions for Beitang to follow him wordlessly, as if to suggest they have other things they need to be doing here.]
thewarder: (pic#16602462)

[personal profile] thewarder 2023-08-08 01:52 am (UTC)(link)
[Whatever discussion is going through the other Lan is far beyond what he is comprehending at this very moment.]

Perhaps we are what? Exiles? [He can't tell who is giving the warning clearly, although he assumes it is Lan as it's after the specter has gone. Yet, he doesn't quite understand this talking to spirits enough to assume that all together. Itt's not a surprise that they would be viewed as exiles to whomever it is that calls this location home.]

We should keep moving. Standing in this bathing room will bring us no closer to our goal, and the water looks ice cold anyways.

[That last part is a disappointment, he certainly would prefer to take a nice warm bath after all the weirdness of what has happened so far today.]
thewarder: (Default)

[personal profile] thewarder 2023-08-08 01:57 am (UTC)(link)
Not particularly. [He's humble and it makes him glance over at America to really take her in.

He says to the girl. She's young enough to be an apprentice it seems, if he was having to guess. He figure she must be plenty brave herself to be able to find herself exploring this dungeon all on her own at such a young age.
]

Are you learning how to control this, 'magic' as you called it? Many women where I am from are able to do control it, bend the power to their will.
bravelyrunsaway: (state; this is MADNESS)

[personal profile] bravelyrunsaway 2023-08-08 05:02 am (UTC)(link)
Sometimes a nose lies, too, love, and you keep clear of what you can.

( A negligent shrug, before he returns to his shelf scoping. Nothing much else of interest, other than a somewhat pretty blue and white bowl he reaches out to take hold of. )

Been here what... since... they left some islands, Ke-Waihoo? Wanu? Which must have been oh, s...

( He trails off, paling a touch. )

Storm take it, am I getting closer to a year?
bravelyrunsaway: (lean; casual observations only)

asdkljf i'm so sorry

[personal profile] bravelyrunsaway 2023-08-08 05:03 am (UTC)(link)
Licyn...

... naps.

... We're so sorry, Five, but he definitely is a man of "Storm take it all" propensities. Good luck, love, find you those tokens or scrolls or whatever!