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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gods, she doesn't even know. )

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

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

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

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

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

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

Excuse you. ( Red's gaze narrows in her direction even though there's a fond little smirk on her face still. ) You are in fact incredibly useful - nothing wrong with needing a bit of saving now and then.

( Damsel isn't how she'd think of Clara at all. She is out there being adventurous, discovering what needs to be discovered. Even without a bunch of ancient super powers. There is a pause following the question before she nods - feels like a lifetime or two ago, but she's right. )

Yeah. In Serthica. They made you sit at their fucked up table and spill personal stories for their appeasement.

[ Clara's head ducks as she grins a little. When she looks up, she has a sly smile tugging her lips up. ]

You haven't had the chance yet; I need you to carry me somewhere to safety, heroically.

[ Dramatically, she tosses the back of her free hand over her forehead and tosses her head back before laughing softly. Then, she pushes open a bedroom door, poking her head inside before opening the door further. Only then does she pick back up the conversation. Walking inside, she sweeps the torchlight around. ]

Between you first meeting me and those ghosts, I think you know more about me than anyone here. Even the Doctor. [ She's let go of Red's hand to explore, but she turns to glance at her now. ] I like that.

[ Ther's a grin from Clara before she begins poking around again. ]

I think this was a guy's room. I mean, I'm no decorator, but it has a vibe.

Hey, I will carry you any time you'd like but especially when you need some heroic saving. . ( Red smirks in amusement especially at the dramatic miming of Clara's, waiting in the quiet, listening as she opens that door - but she doesn't sense anything roaming around inside of the room. They're safe. For now.

And her smirk widens into a smile at that admittance: ) I like it too, and I feel pretty fuckin' proud of the fact. It's an honor.

( To know more about her than anybody else. She moves over to the nearest bookshelf as their hands from one another's grip, but she's keeping an eye out, using her enhanced senses to be sure nothing sneaks up on them. )

Very guy vibe, very musty, old vibe too. What's your own room like? Y'know back in your world. Colorful? Well organized?

[ Clara laughs quietly and looks through a nightstand. ]

My room? It's small, but I have my own flat and I like it. The full bed takes up most of the room, and the rest is plants, books, and cozy things. I'm chaotic neat, you know? Messy but organized piles of things to grade; I know what I have and where, but dirty clothes manage to make their way into a hamper. I like warm colors and old things, blankets within reach anywhere I go.

[ She's small, she gets cold easily! And on a teacher's salary, she tries to bundle up rather than use heat in the winter. Clara looks over her shoulder at Red, smiling again before her eyes land on what looks like a faint trail in the dust and she begins to follow it. ]

What's your place like? Do you have one?

[ It dawns on her that she hasn't asked much, and she feels guilty, instantly. She resolves then to do better, especially because the kissing, if it keeps up, could lead to other things. And she wants to know as much as Red will tell her. ]

Sounds really nice actually. Definitely has the you vibes in being small but chaotic neat, warm, an old soul. I can picture that as being your kinda place to call home at the end of the night.

...even if you ended up adventuring around the stars and planets and times and all that.

( That also feels like who Clara is even if she does thinks he probably likes having a place to call 'home' at the end of the day, a place to settle down and call her own, a place to feel safe. Red's discovered in her time being out of the Underworld that's one of those basic human needs, desires.

Even for those who love adventure and travel. )

Eh, I kinda travel a lot. Usually when I do get a place though it's a studio type of deal, and I got about a suitcase worth of items that I bring with me wherever I go. Means there's not a whole lot to make a mess with.

I used to think that's how I would live, and I did for a while. But eventually, I had to do this thing called 'make money.' Such a scam. Then I decided it would be better to live closer to the school, and a flat was born.

[ The Doctor had helped, both by pulling strings at Coal Hill and helping her pay for a flat until she could handle it on her own. And there's so much she's leaving out but it's all information Red's heard before, more or less. Sabine, her death, the way it hurt. Taking care of her kids afterward, looking after them like she promised. ]

I happen to think you'd like my place. What's your must-travel item? Everywhere you go, you take it with you?

[ She's followed the trail to a wardrobe and she pulls it open, coughing at the dust and smell of must. It's semi-full of clothes, and she idly thumbs through them—definitely someone who liked men's stylings. ]

Well, you see, I became a... private investigator of sorts to make the money I needed to do that other little thing called, y'know, living and being able to afford things that keep you living. Also a complete fuckin scam.

But yeah, with you being a teacher, you'd need to stick to one place.

( Red pulls out a book, flips her way through the pages, and then frowns as there's nothing really worth anything inside. So she'll just turn around, lean against the shelf, and watch as Clara searches through the wardrobe. Her gaze lingers on her from across the room.

Just kind of shamelessly watching. )

Mm. I had a notebook for all my cases - spiritual and otherwise. ( That's where it gets even more complicated like her life did once she made it out of the Underworld. ) Couldn't go anywhere without it. Then there was my flask straight from the Underworld, and uh, Tony. He was my cactus. Never could keep another type of plant alive, but cacti are real forgiving.

[ Shamelessly watch away; if it was reversed, Clara'd be doing the same thing. Just as she thinks she sees something, she hears the bit about the plants and turns to look at Red over her shoulder, grinning. ]

You have a cactus named Tony? I kind of fucking love that. I should name my plants.

[ Back to what she noticed before, she crouches down and then follows the disturbed dust along the bottom of the wardrobe. Pushing shoes out of the way, she feels wood that doesn't seem to match the rest of the back wall. ]

I think I found something back here. Help me clear all of this out?

[ The torch goes under her armpit as she starts chucking clothes to the ground unceremoniously. ]

It gives you more of an attachment to them, which could be, y'know, a tad problematic when they shrivel up and die. But also makes for some fun times beforehand, and makes 'em a bit more memorable to boot.

( Red does move forward though at Clara's request, dodging the clothing being flung backwards before she kneels down directly beside her, and then starts to take heaps of whatever she finds. Those are tossed back too in a heap behind the both of them. )

What did you feel?

( It's asked even as she continues to chuck over her shoulder. )

[ Clara's focused now, but not so much so that she doesn't glance over appreciatively at Red before grabbing an empty travel bag and tossing it aside. ]

The wood is different, and it gave a little. I think it's a secret compartment or something. Or I've read too many cozy mysteries.

[ Once she can see the back of the wardrobe clearly, she pushes at the spot in the back and a hatch pushes inward, about the size of a small dog door. ]

Oh, fuck, look.

[ Pointing the torch inside, she can very clearly see things scattered about, and something wrapped in cloth. She's already handing the torch over so that she can tie her hair back, mind made up about going in. ]

There's something back there.

( Red takes the offered torch, holding it in her hand, angling it toward the area that Clara apparently intends to crawl into. She frowns worriedly even if she knows it's necessary - obviously the best stuff isn't going to be kept out in the open.

And opening her senses to that small space isn't revealing anything especially dangerous - no sounds of movement or heartbeats or aura's peeking through, but still.

She lifts her gaze to Clara then as she pulls her hair back in a tie, and it's clear she's determined to head in there. Red wouldn't want to stop her, but she'll be right here to help pull her back out if she has to. )

Be careful. ( Her free hand drops to rest against her arm, giving it a protective squeeze. ) I've got your back.

[ At the squeeze, Clara impulsively leans in and kisses Red, just a quick one, and then grins before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, rotating her shoulders a bit the way a diver might prepare. Then, she goes in. She just barely fits, and when she's inside, she looks she fills the entire space. She can't rotate, and she can't do anything other than grab the items. Groping for everything, she feels something fuzzy and boney and shrieks, letting it go instantly. ]

I think I grabbed something dead. Like a...a mouse or something, I'm getting the fuck out.

[ Slowly she begins to crawl backward, which does mean that yes, her ass is in the air while she tries to be aware of not banging herself up. ]

( Red lets out a soft, pleased sound at the kiss before she turns to watch her enter the small hole that she manages to squeeze into. It really is very small, and she's already reaching out toward her when she hears the shriek. )

Jesus, fuck, yeah. Not worth feeling around in the dark if you're gonna feel something fucked up...

( But oh, that does give her an incredible visual of Clara's backside at the moment. She inches backward to give her room. )

...not that the view isn't fantastic from back here.

[ Clara laughs and it echoes in the small cubbyhole. ]

Are you shamelessly checking out my arse?

[ Not that she cares, and she laughs again before finally making her way all the way out. She’s covered in filth but feels successful as she flops onto her back in the pile of clothes. ]

I’m amazing. Let’s see what I got.

[ Theres a bag and when she opens it, a talisman falls out on her chest. ]

Well, look at that. Cubbyhole hiding place for the win.

I think your arse is shamelessly being gorgeous in my vicinity and I can't be blamed.

( Red is smirking though entirely flirtatiously as she watches her the rest of the way until she's fully out. She reaches over with a wince to wipe some of the filth away from her shoulders, from her face, pulling a cobweb from her hair.

Her gaze drops to meet Clara's, and her smirk shifts into a smile. )

Incredible. ( Amazing, incredible, Clara is all of these things even as she watches the talisman fall out and oh. ) You had more than the right idea. Now we might stand a chance and getting the hell out of this... hellhole.

[ Sitting up, she holds the talisman in her hand, turning it over. Going home isn’t as appealing as it was pre-knowing how good it felt to kiss Red, but she won’t wallow. Instead she hands it over and then starts looking at the papers a little closer. ]

I think these are billing notes. Invoices and boring stuff. Why hide that? Is there tax evasion on this planet?

[ She feels itchy as hell, even though it was a valiant effort Red gave to brush her clean. ]

( Red looks over her shoulder at the papers, and she shakes her head because she doesn't get it either. This whole place seems like it's just a bunch of assholes trying to hide away, hide from the consequences of their own actions. )

I don't know. Maybe they don't want anyone to know who they're making their business deals with.

( She rests a hand at the low of Clara's back with a frown as if she can feel her itchiness. )

...you okay?

[ Clara looks at Red and manages a genuine smile, even if it's small. ]

I'll take a few really good days here with you before everything starts to work the way it should. Or, that'd be nice, anyway. I know there's no telling in this, amazing pun by the way, hellhole. But even one day with no dead bullshit sounds pretty fantastic.

[ But, their conversation over cupcakes did do wonders, and she's not as sad about it as she thinks she might have been once. Red helped put enough in perspective that she doesn't feel like getting drunk again, anyway. ]

Not today, though. Today there's creepy shit happening and I'm ready to find daylight again.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

the house of manouk | test drive meme

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