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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ The dog leads the way since Xue Yang isn't able to recall from which twisting direction he fled the bear. As they walk he steals long glances at Xingchen, trying to keep his mouth facing forward so it doesn't sound like he's staring ... which he is. ]

You arrived alone, then?

[ Xiao Xingchen can feel the stares on him regardless. He's always had a decent sense for that sort of thing, though he usually ignores it when he's stared at. It's a little harder to do that when it's Xue Yang doing the staring, however. ]

Yes. Who would I have arrived with?

Some people were around when I got here, they all wandered off to explore. I haven't seen anyone since the old man.

[ His gaze slides back to the tall ceilings and dark, musty stairways that the dog leads them past, down to a lower level. ]

I'll do the talking to the ghosts. Whatever I say, don't stop me.

Oh. I didn't notice anyone else.

[ There may well have been other people around, but if they were quiet enough he wouldn't have noticed as he'd been too distraught when he'd woken up here.

He turns his head in Xue Yang's direction, frowning a bit, but nodding. ]

They weren't very helpful, forget about them.

[ He's been actively avoiding running into anyone, really. The hounds don't seems to like many people but they're loyal enough to Xue Yang and Jiangzai, which is all that matters to him; the extra protection means more to him than making a friend.

En route to their location he takes a bust off a plinth, weighing how heavy it is and carrying it with them. Down in the kitchens, he pats Xiao Xingchen on the arm outside the door. ]

Stay out here. The doors will slam shut but I've got something to keep them open a crack, so whatever happens don't come in.

[ Xiao Xingchen is a little concerned by this whole thing, but he doesn't have much of a choice but to trust that Xue Yang knows what he's doing. He hadn't gone through the kitchens on his way here, so he has no idea what's in there. ]

Alright... Be careful. [ The words leave him automatically. ]

[ Taking a few steadying breaths to even out his rattling chest, he pushes open the door and drops the bust in place. Bao rushes in first with Xue Yang on his heels, a happy cheer going up inside as the blood-soup patron is welcomed back. Until he declines to make another meal, that is, and indignant calls start going up. Then there's a lot of demonic snarling, the hiss of Jiangzai being unsheathed, and ghostly screams, the clatter of pans and dishes being smashed, and it sounds like chaos for a full minute as the door tries to slam shut next to Xingchen, cracking off pieces of the stone wedge.

Bao rushes out with a large leg-bone that has a shoe on it and Xue Yang hurriedly follows with a bag slung over his back, hopping out of the door's way before kicking the bust free and letting the kitchen re-seal itself to the angry howls of the ghosts within. Thief, thief! Give me back my shin! Those are freshly baked buns!

He grabs Xingchen by the sleeve in a hurry. ]

Time to go.

[ Xiao Xingchen paces nervously outside as he listens to the commotion in the kitchens. The sounds unwittingly bring back memories he'd rather not recall, so he's glad when Xue Yang and Bao finally emerge.

He doesn't protest and just nods as he starts to follow them. ] Where are we going?

Wherever the dog thinks is best, this is his home.

[ Bao leads them to the sleeping quarters past where the bear trampled Xue Yang, winding his way to an area thankfully without more spectres. Must have a nose for it or some other unearthly sense, Xue Yang supposes, gratefully giving the skeletal hound a pat on the head as he enters a room with a large bed. ]

It's a bedroom, we can rest in here. We —

[ He spills his prizes on the bed and immediately coughs up blood, unable to catch his breath. ]

[ That's probably sensible. They're both strangers to this place, after all. Xiao Xingchen follows in silence until they reach what is apparently a bedroom. Before he can say anything he hears the violent cough leaving Xue Yang and on instinct, he rushes to his side, putting an arm around him. ]

Xue Yang? Are you alright? [ A stupid question probably. It sounds like he can't breathe right, so he sends a bit of spiritual energy into him to help him cough up the blood and clear his lungs. ]

Lung's all shit. Back hurts.

[ Where the blade pierced through scapula, that's hurting the most and is the hardest to ignore so when he feels that spiritual energy it helps a lot. He wipes his mouth clean and hums to show he's okay, just ... running around and starting fights before healing. ]

I got some shaobing, I think it has vegetables inside. Grabbed as many steamed buns as I could, some pork jerky ... and water. Nothing sweet.

[ A jar of it lies stoppered amongst the rest of the haul. Xue Yang doesn't move away from Xiao Xingchen until the arm around him loosens of its own volition. ]

You need to rest.

[ He releases Xue Yang once the other man is done coughing. Yeah, running around and fighting is not a great idea when you've got a punctured lung... He'd given Xue Yang enough healing before to speed up the healing process a little, but he still needs to take it easy and rest.

Xiao Xingchen sighs to himself. Why does he even care? He really shouldn't, but it's so easy to fall back into the role of taking care of an injured Xue Yang. It distracts him from the anger and grief too.

He slowly lowers himself down on the bed and heaves a sigh. ] Alright. Can I have some water?

Yeah, it's all for you. Here.

[ The water is placed in Xingchen's hands and the rest arranged at his side before Xue Yang crawls onto the other half of the bed and lies on his right side. Bao settles on the floor with his bone, guarding the door, so Xue Yang doesn't feel so bad about allowing his eyes to close. ]

... This place is insane.

[ Xiao Xingchen gratefully accepts the water and drinks until his throat doesn't feel so parched anymore. He removes Shuanghua from his back and sets it to lean against the wall by the bed before he stiffly lays down, keeping as much distance between himself and Xue Yang that he can.

Insane is definitely the right word for this place. For this entire, bizarre situation they both find themselves in. ]

...Yes. It is.

[ The house is quiet here. If anyone else is sleeping nearby they also don't want to be discovered and the eerie not-noise of open hallways has been replaced with the sound of Xingchen's breathing and crunching bone. Xue Yang ... feels wiped out, from inside-out, his body is struggling to handle so much physical and emotional overload within the span of a few hours, slumped over Jiangzai who is thrumming with energy after a fight with no kills.

He doesn't overthink how needy or pathetic it might be when he reaches out to hold onto a corner of Xiao Xingchen's white robes, wanting a reminder he's really there as pseudo-slumber takes hold. Too tense to truly sleep, too shattered not to doze. ]

[ Xiao Xingchen doesn't notice that Xue Yang takes a hold of his robes as it's such a light grip. It takes him even longer, but eventually the exhaustion he feels down to the very bone causes him to fall into a slumber, one plagued by bad memories turning into nightmares that have him whimpering in his sleep. ]

[ He wakes to the sound of whimpers, not something he's accustomed to since he has slept alone for eight years. When he sits up he isn't sure what to do since there's a very high chance he's the cause of those nightmares, but there's no chance of him falling back asleep ...

Eventually he can't stand to see Xingchen like that so he touches him on the wrist, a light pat. ]

Xiao Xingchen? You're ... dreaming.

Edited 2023-08-03 21:00 (UTC)

[ Xiao Xingchen's sleep had been pretty shallow and he wakes easily when he's touched and spoken to. ]

Don't touch me!

[ Gasping, he nearly scrambles off the bed before he remembers where he is and what's happened... Xue Yang's voice makes him shudder and move up against the wall, hugging his knees to his chest.

He tries not to cry. He only has a limited number of bandage rolls and no way to wash the blood off. ]

[ ... Definitely the cause of those nightmares, then. Of course he was. ]

Xiao Xingchen.

[ Keeping his tone low and soft, he stays where he is so as not to cause him to panic again. A leaden weight seems to have joined Xue Yang's painful lung and pins him where he sits, watching. ]

Do you want some water? I can leave it near you, I won't touch you.

[ He doesn't really remember much of the dreams. They'd just been muddled, panic-inducing snapshots of all of his worst memories played on repeat. Screaming, blood, death.

A sob leaves him despite his best efforts to keep it in. He shakes his head in response to Xue Yang's offer. ] I'm--I'm fine.

You need a drink.

[ He can't just leave him there, it looks like Xingchen is having a total meltdown. What would help? What could? ]

Hey, ah. I have no name, and this ... this is the Coffin House. [ This might work, though it will be no fucking surprise if it fails. ] A-Qing is asleep down the hall and you don't want to wake her up, right? So let me bring you some water, daozhang. I won't touch you, I promise. You're okay.

[ Somehow, it does help. If only a little. A thin trail of blood runs down his cheek, but he nods this time. ] A-Alright.

I'm coming over. [ He makes sure to be audible as he crawls off the bed and gets closer, placing the water bottle nearby. ] Left hand, you'll feel it if you reach.

[ He also backs off a few feet once he's done, eyes on Xingchen across the floor. It never really occurred to him that Xingchen would be ... broken like this, when he came back to life. Sure, he was angry and took his own life, disgusted even, but Xue Yang never had anyone to remind him he was wrong for inflicting such terrible torment; it was all a game until it wasn't, and then he only had himself for reassurance that Xingchen had simply acted rashly. He hadn't understood. That's not what Xingchen has said or how he has behaved since they met here, however. It dawns on him as some sort of revelation, awareness of a person outside himself, that he is wrong.

He doesn't want Xingchen to flinch and run away, to tell him to get lost. Xue Yang needs to figure a few things out and so he exhibits patience with Xingchen, the only person he ever could, while watching him sip his drink. ]

Edited 2023-08-03 21:40 (UTC)

[ Mutely, Xiao Xingchen reaches for the water bottle. With trembling fingers he opens it and takes a couple of sips.

He feels at war with himself. The part of him that is angry and resentful, the part of him that misses his little friend and the life they'd had, the part of him that's just... broken by it all.

He's not sure how to act now, how to handle Xue Yang. He had been such a self-righteous, morally upstanding cultivator once, one who had been convinced that he knew what was right and what was wrong. Xue Yang has muddled all of that. It makes his head hurt.

Tiredly, he turns his head to where he thinks Xue Yang is. ] What... what do you want with me?

I just wanted you back, [ he admits with quiet earnestness, realising the truth as he speaks, ] I was so concerned with figuring that out, I never stopped to think about what to do once you were.

[ Which sounds childish again, he's aware.

This isn't like the volcanic eruption of their feelings in the smashed-up bear's room, it's quiet here. They have both had time to scream and cry and shout themselves hoarse. ]

I never wanted this.

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