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westwhere2023-07-26 05:56 pm
groundrules) wrote in westwhere2023-07-26 05:56 pm
Entry tags:
- arcane: caitlyn,
- assassin's creed: jacob frye,
- assassin's creed: ratonhnhake:ton,
- back to the future: marty mcfly,
- better call saul: jimmy mcgill,
- better call saul: nacho varga,
- doctor who: clara oswald,
- last case of benedict fox: benedict fox,
- lockwood & co: anthony lockwood,
- lockwood & co: lucy carlyle,
- mcu: america chavez,
- mcu: bucky barnes,
- mcu: kamala khan,
- oh! my emperor: su xunxian,
- owl house: eda clawthorne,
- penny dreadful: vanessa ives,
- star wars: cal kestis,
- test drive,
- umbrella academy: five,
- untamed: lan sizhui,
- untamed: lan xichen,
- warcraft: wrathion
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 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. ”
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!
no subject
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. ]
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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. ]
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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.
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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?
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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. ]
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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.
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We?
[ He does try to hold his wrist level and still as they stride, at least as much as he's able to. While the dragon focuses on his work with the blade, Anduin's eyes dart upwards, scanning the maze for the next opening to try.
It feels like they're just getting more and more lost, but surely an answer will present itself. They only need to keep pressing forward. The only way forward is through, isn't that the saying?
But he's curious about this battle, keeping at least part of his focus on the explanation being provided. The way Wrathion describes it is...unfortunately reminiscent of past events, as well. The stain of Darkshore will linger for some time, he's certain. ]
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[ He can work as part of a team! ... Sometimes! If he agrees with the team!
Anyway, the point is this isn't purely his fault. He turns their wrists a little, hoping a different angle might help? He thinks he's making progress, but... slowly. ]
How long have you been here? I presume Karsa has been in touch.
[ Given him whatever new communication trinket she's invented. He has some of Anduin's old things, of course. He'd kept them, just in case. Not for any sentimental reasons, just... practical ones. ]
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[ Once again his gaze lifts to the sunless sky overhead. Not quite the perpetual sunset of the Isle, though not far off either. There's a wince as Wrathion suddenly tugs a little too far in one direction, before he shifts closer in an effort to relieve the discomfort. ]
But I did speak with her. The woman who wanted us to retrieve the tokens, yes?
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Wrathion hesitates, a twinge of sickly unease passing through him. Anduin wouldn't refer to someone they both knew well that way. Which can only mean one thing.
They're back to square one.
At least, he supposes, he has the advantage this time. Perhaps this could be an... opportunity, to do things better? Easier to think that way, rather than allow himself to dwell on everything that has been lost. ]
That's right. The sorceress who works for the Merchant.
[ He looks up at Anduin, pauses in his fiddling with the knife. His manner is... more reserved suddenly. ]
She explained some of this?
[ She usually does, if in a... brusque manner. ]
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Yes. Wrathion was still his friend, at the end of it all. ]
Somewhat, but it appeared we didn't have time for an in-depth discussion. Finding the talismans and securing a way out of this place seemed the priority.
[ There's a pause, broken only by the crunch of leaves and grass under their boots, and the steady sawing of the blade against steel-dense vines. ]
You're...familiar with her?
[ Odd. Wrathion isn't the sort to make friends that fast. ]
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Explaining this feels... complex, and some of Wrathion's earlier positivity begins to quickly wane. At his heart, as much as desires to simply push through and hope for the best he is aware there are... worse scenarios.
This Anduin may lack the ability to forgive. May be different to the one previous. May never have cared for him.
Wrathion could also make an absolute mess of this, worse than before.
All things entirely possible. ]
I am.
[ Familiar with Karsa.
He remembers the injury to her face, after Taravast. Wrathion slows, giving up on the vines for a moment. He has the brief, mad fantasy that he could grab Anduin and kiss him. Skip all the awkward small talk.
He doesn't. ]
This place pulls us out of the timeways as freely as a Timewalker. We may not even be synchronised, in events or in points on the timeline. What is the last thing you recall?
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Particularly where the black dragon was involved. ]
We were organizing efforts to encourage the disbanding of the Defias Brotherhood, and petition the House of Nobles for funds to help in the recovery from the war, after the armistice with the Horde was formerly announced.
[ There's a pause. ]
We had also received word of your victory against N'Zoth. You and the other champions had not yet returned...if you were intending to.
[ From his tone, it might be inferred that he did not expect that at all. ]
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[ Wrathion senses the tone, the unspoken accusation.
He feels immediately tired, but this is... familiar. He remembers this, remembers how it felt -- this tense dynamic. It's simply a matter of... regressing.
Unfortunately. ]
It doesn't prove we are from the same timeway, but at least my success is a constant.
[ The playful boast is a little forced. He glances over, the sound of heavy footfall drawing his attention -- the four-footed variety.
A robotic looking dog appears around the corner, slows down as it spots the two of them. It's manner is focused, attentive. No sign of excitement or particularly doggy characteristics to it.]
You took your time. Have you found a way out of this maze?
[ The dog, which appears to be carrying a pack distinctly of Wrathion's style, sits patiently in front of Anduin and waits.
Wrathion sighs. ]
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Curiosity and a sliver of something approaching delight softens the edges of his face as he sees the dog approach, clearly familiar with the dragon and bearing his craftsmanship. Slowly, so as not to yank Wrathion thanks to their wrists still being bound, he kneels down to examine the automaton. ]
Hello there. Are you here to help?
[ It certainly gives that impression. While not acting particularly dog-like, it's less hostile than just about everything else he's found here. ]
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This is Vigilance, a tracking droid from Serthica. I asked it to find a way out of this maze.
[ Wrathion hesitates, looking between the two of them. ]
Technically, this is your tracking droid.
[ It seems fruitless to keep that from him, given how many people will recognise him. Certainly the droid is only paying attention to Anduin right now, which is suspicious in and of itself. ]
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[ Anduin blinks, furrowing his brow as his gaze lifts to Wrathion's tense expression. Slowly the pieces are filling in, though he hasn't quite arrived at the correct answer yet. It's one of a handful of possibilities he is sorting through in quick succession.
Honestly? Another Anduin from another timeline would not even be the first occurrence. ]
...I suppose that explains his familiarity.
[ 'Vigilance'. That sounds like a name he'd give the automaton, and he looks to the dog once more, patiently waiting for them both. For him, specifically.
Pushing down the desire to ask more, Anduin rises to his feet, a faint wince as his bad knee aches with the movement. ]
Can you show us the way?
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He hasn't permission for that manner of... familiarity currently. Instead, his hand returns to his side -- the other still uselessly attached to Anduin. It's difficult to just watch, but he'll have to accept that.
The dog obediently turns and begins to trot away, glancing back to be sure they are watching. ]
Not the most cheerful of company, but it will perform any task it can without complaint.
[ Tracking a path through a maze included. He glances between the two of them, waiting to move at Anduin's preferred speed given their... predicament. ]
no subject
It would merit more reflection, if they weren't in a maze trying to kill them, desperately seeking a way to safety on behalf of a strange sorceress, in a land seemingly permeated with anguished spirits. But he can feel the depth of the chasm between them as Wrathion almost not-quite reaches for him, and some of his irritation flickers and snuffs itself out. ]
Perhaps it's doing better than I am, then. At present.
[ It's a quiet, conciliatory offering. A 'I see you're trying so I will as well' sort of gesture, before he nods for the dragon to take the lead after the robotic canine. He'll follow, for now.
The other clearly understands what's going on here better than he does. Perhaps he should just...observe, for a time. Try to put the pieces together in a way that makes sense, before he starts prying. ]
no subject
That, and Wrathion is aware his knee isn't always the best. He remembers when Anduin still used crutches. ]
You can be forgiven some difficulties, I think, this world is different to Azeroth. I've had longer to adjust, over a year and a half now.
[ Quite some time to be stuck away from home. He watches the hedge warily as they walk, flame pooling idly into his free hand just in case. It may be leaving them alone for now, but better to be prepared in case that changes. ]
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A year and...
[ Alright. Timelines. He hadn't been expecting that as his answer, but perhaps that explains the change in Wrathion's demeanor. Quickly recovering, he sets pace alongside him once more. ]
I see. And...I must have been here for some measure of that. Or at least some version of me.
[ It's not the only solution but it's the one he's willing to guess at. Will he get a straight answer? Who knows! Wrathion might not have changed that much. ]
no subject
The priest recovers, however, and Wrathion draws back. ]
Yes, a version of you.
[ ... Is that it? He studies Anduin intently, considering, then turns to Vigilance and begins to walk again slowly. ]
For around a year, perhaps just over.
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Would all of this simply be forgotten, by the time they returned home? To their respective homes, if that was the case?
Quietly dwelling on this, he lets his eyes drift to their mechanical companion leading the way. ]
...then I suppose I have a lot to catch up on.
[ Most of the edge in his voice seems to have bled out, by this point. ]
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[ Cities they have been to, issues they faced, and so on. They contain nothing personal, of course. Wrathion wouldn't write anything like that in a place he might risk someone reading it. ]
Some things are more transient, details of cities we have long left, but there are some... connective tissues, here and there. Persistent figures, themes, things that keep coming up from place to place. This world appears to suffer an undead plague, with figures they call the 'undead lieges' leading groups of them. They band together in alliances, make deals with some cities, terrorise others. We've made attempts to understand the source, to stop it where we can. How long our efforts will last after we move on, I could not say.
[ Saving a city once is easy, after all. Yet once you move on, it needs to stay resilient to future threats. That's something else entirely. ]
no subject
More must be done. More must be given.
It is at least a familiar weight that settles on him, that sense of duty that he has lived with all his life. And with that certainty, the clouds part. No more doubt, no more fog. Perhaps Wrathion has given him reason in the past not to trust him at his word, but--
This feels like the way forward. For now, at least. ]
Then we'll do what we can. Whatever you know, whatever you can share...I would be grateful.
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