westwhere | unkharil

unkharil | event

UNKHARIL

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Leaving the House of Manouk through waypoints, the party arrives back to the present time of Akhuras, in the jungle swathes of Unkharil. Those undergoing a canon update fleetingly detour into their home worlds. Old or new, you wake with a start, on high alert — body ablaze with static electricity. Some characters might struggle with vertigo, misted memories and dimmed powers for up to 48 hours, while their bodies readjust to no longer being lost in time.

You are in the care of a highly disciplined, if largely nomadic caravan — the refugees of most holy Alem, the kingdom built upon hell that succumbed to the undead. Karsa informs new recruits that the party assisted Alem’s king Deimar with evacuation efforts and with sealing the gates of hell, months prior. Their kingdom lost, Deimar has now taken his people to his mother’s ancestral grounds of Unkharil — a temple-fortress in a valley bordered by four tall mountains that serve as its protective walls.

Legend says the four mountains pillared the heavens, while snake god Kharil-asuk nested in the valley below to recover after birthing the world. So long was his sleep that cloud gods sent down the first bursts of lightning and thunder — frightening awake Kharil-asuk, who slithered into the jungle, never to be seen again. Since, sacred Unkharil has served as site of worship and coronations.

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King Deimar — whimsical, breezy, but cuttingly sharp — welcomes you in Unkharil, until the Merchant finalises your travel arrangements east. His people are weary, battle-worn and starved for kindness. Where applicable, some might optionally remember you under the false identity you wore in Arc V.

Seek out accommodations in the stone huts of the temple-fortress or the humble, often single-person cells that were dug bluntly into the mountain walls for hermit monks. Unkharil was deserted over the years as Kharil-asuk’s cult lost worship — but superstitious bandits have kept their looting away from temple grounds. You may still find furniture, pieces of clothing and worship, while refugees can spare clothes and food supplies.

TASKS

■ Assist with cleaning and reconstructing the destitute grounds of Unkharil, raising new stone columns and cleansing altars. Those with a connection to nature or the animals sense this is a quiet, revered territory.

■ Many survivors of Alem’s siege suffer from burns, cuts or trauma you can allay. The orphaned, widowed and wounded appreciate a kind word, company or help settling in.

■ Find a thin golden stream in the jungle, whose tepid waters may accelerate healing, improve your spirits or give you a day of staggering good luck. Bring back waters for recovering refugees.

■ Learn to use mountain scaling gear (rope-bound pairs encouraged) — or tame a 3-meter Kalioperus flier (useful for scouting and the Wailing below). Refugees and the few remaining temple monks may assist, but it’s learning by doing on the slippery mountain sides and with the thin-tempered fliers.

■ Largely warriors, Deimar’s people lost numerous troops defending Alem and now replenish their forces by teaching their youth weapons combat and light magic. Come dawns, join them in the courtyard to learn a skill or offer your own lessons. Alem instructors are strict, disciplined and martial — but fair. Characters who lack natural magic can learn to operate gem-triggered spheres that generate shields or a burst of fire/lightning. You may keep the gems after, but your character will need a few weeks of study to achieve mastery.

■ (Learn to) fish, hunt and forage to renew supplies. Beware flesh-eating fish in some jungle rivers. Ride an okapi?

■ Yet wary of traders, Deimar (grudgingly) invites merchants to revive their routes to Unkharil, with many caravans, errant scholars, priests, necromancers and sorcerers arriving to study his proposition. Some arrive all the way from magical jewel city Taravast — including an exuberant acolyte of old master Wrath! — and may offer exotic food and drink, or unique items. You may trade or earn coin by selling services or performances. Musical, art and thespian instruments can be found on the grounds.

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QUESTS

THE HEART(H) OF IT

”Rise and shine, lads! Heat of a jungle’s sun won’t be waning, no use waiting it out. The iron here’s rung cold too long. What little’s left of it. Shows the place was run by monks. They abandoned the smithy, once the fires guttered, and the mines, soon as the mouths collapsed only a little! Ha. Spoiled devils. Even left behind the ore already dug out. You go right in and fetch some iron… some copper, some silver… whatever yo find. We’ll get the blaze going. Time to forge. Don’t worry. We’ll make it worth your while.”

— Eitam, master forger

Deimar’s ironmongers revive the smithy of Unkharil but require precious ore and materials for manufacturing. Scale the steep mountain of Masida that walls in Unkharil to the east and infiltrate its abandoned mine to recover some previously discovered, but abandoned goods. Beware crumbling paths, rotten wood stairs and moulding ropes, as parts of the mines threaten collapse. Refugees supply golden fireworks that can shoot out to alert anyone within the mine you are in danger. Blacksmith rewards await.

PAVED WITH GOOD INTENTIONS

Visiting merchants are willing to resume trade, but have ongoing safety concerns.

■ Meet a first set of incoming grain-bearing caravans in the jungle and escort them on the last six-hour leg of their voyage to Unkharil. These are hefty and slow wagons, frequently targeted by bandits who dam their paths or pretend they are wounded, while their brothers attack from tree outposts.

■ Destroy the encampments of the vicious jungle-based Red Claws bandits. These outlaws typically attack in groups, share nightly meals and drink to strengthen their ties, providing excellent ambush opportunities. They cover their faces with a cinnabar or blood print of their leader’s palm.

■ Hold talks to appease the merchants Balthazar (easily impressed by shows and the arts) and Anathula (who wants a clear business pitch). Give diplomacy your best!

THE WAILING

”… they were so happy, so holy, then why do they shame themselves with tears now? You must be wondering. The truth does not honour us: first, Unkharil’s priesthood only accepted brothers from among those who survived snake’s poison. But the chosen were few, and the lands needed tending. Then, Unkharil accepted brothers from men of great skill, literacy and wisdom. But the learned were few, and the lands needed tending. Then, Unkharil accepted orphans, survivors of the jungle, men of the snake’s vision. But wanderers were few, and the lands needed tending. And soon, what recruits Kharil-asuk did not provide, in his mercy — his priesthood took… from the breasts of widows, from pillaged homes, from bandits. They kept even the most unwilling.”

— groundsmaster Kayik

Unkharil’s new residents soon find their beauty sleep disrupted by nightly wails, projected from several of the monk cells dug into Mount Nathadi, which walls in Unkharil from the south. These are the ghosts of former monks, whom you can appease by scaling the mountain and cleaning their cell, recovering their bones for burial (where applicable) or providing a minor service for the ghost (your choice of what the monk might desire: perhaps the recitation of a poem, an update on the weather outside, a good deed, etc.) Many of the monks were especially devoted to Kharil-asuk and to theories of reincarnation — for the lives of men are to the soul like a snake shedding its skin — and may impart you their wisdom.

WATER MY CROPS

Help Deimar’s people to revitalise local soil, seed gardens and crops, build dams and redirect jungle rivers. Water or lunar tide sorcery also work. Alem refugees were primarily warriors and will need you to illustrate the basics of gardening and land care.

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TO DAYS GONE BY

To welcome the start of their new lives, the refugees hold two nights of celebrations. During the day, you prepare tall bonfires or purify the lands with incense and sage-infused water, finding you are readily welcome in every home.

■ The first banquet night (OOCly on 25 August) pays homage to the lost: the survivors of Alem remember the siege and encourage you to speak of your own dead. Letters of penance, love or remembrance are written to the dead, read by the witness of your choosing and burned in bonfires. Heavy, syrupy and thick drink abounds.

■ The second banquet night (OOCly on 5 September) honours the living: everyone must show and express gratitude to someone alive, for any reason. Grit your teeth and offer thanks.

SERVANTS OF AFIRU (warning: snakes)

”There was no strength left in the bones of Kharil-asuk, after birthing the ground and the sky and the moon, and man and his mountains. And the first son of his likeness paid the price: brave white Afiru, small and feeble, but how proud he was! And the dozen men who caught him, not knowing his right divine, thought they did him a kindness to cull his pain young: to set him on a slate of stone and cut him in small parts, and eat of him for their dinner. Fools! Each bite of Afiru took root within them! Come morning, a dozen men woke in the image of Afiru: half snake, half human, beastly and cunning, their roiling bellies only quenched when they ate of their brothers. So, Afiru seeded his curse, and that same stone plate is now his altar: and just as he washed it with his life’s blood for men, so too must men now pay the price of bleeding.”

— old village tale

Within the jungle depths sleeps the minor, ruined temple of serpent god Afiru — malicious son of Kharil-asuk — whose mind-thralled servants abduct hapless innocents as sacrifices to the deity’s naga emissaries. Infiltrate the decayed temple to ruin Afiru’s altar — releasing his servants from their thrall and ending his worship. The naga priests are half beasts, half men, but deathly silent and possessed of fiercely sharp and venomous claws and fangs. If poisoned, your wounded limb swells, then numbs, then darkens as the toxin spreads through your body. You have 12 hours to get back to Unkharil, increasingly groggy and stiff, and drink a cure — or may pre-emptively carry a few doses, going in.

A HUNDRED MOUTHS (newcomers only)

Large stone gates carved into the northern mountain that walls in Unkharil hide an ancient granary whose wares could allay starvation… and interest visiting merchants. To open the doors, you must fit missing ruby beads back into the gate’s carvings. The gems, you learn, were picked out and dragged away by feral Kalioperus fliers — larger and more vicious than the ones you ride — and taken back to their nests at the very tip of Unkharil’s walling mountains. Report your ruby finds — rewards await.

ANOINTED (warning: snake)

”I saw him! With my mind clear, and my eyes shut, and my heart open. And he was beautiful! I ran in high grass, and my feet tore, and my dress ragged, and do not listen! I was not as the others are, greedy. I wanted nothing, nothing! He asked, ‘Daughter, what do you wish of me?’ And I said to him, ‘Only to see you.’ And he said, ‘So be it.’ And after mother Moon rose, and the good rain downed, and it was silence in this world he gave us, but for this breath, that was the murmur of the skies! No vastness greater than the drums of his heartbeat, and his sundered gaze: one eye, it was blood, and the other gold. And together, they saw me. He saw me. And he loved me! So he gave me the silk of his shed skin, to remember him by. In the morning, old women say, hunters found me in the jungle, stroking a piece of old, mouldy rope. But I know, it was him, it was the Father. And he saw me, as they do not see him”

— Laila, weaver

Deimar inherited his mother’s lands, but his uncles are likely to contest the claim of a pauper king with a feeble army. To legitimise his rule, Deimar wants the blessing of snake deity Kharil-asuk. The few remaining locals of Unkharil say the great serpent may be seen on stormy nights with lightning and thunder by those who wait at night in the jungle, after purifying themselves with meditation or partaking of ‘mind-cleansing’ asuk — a strong drug that triggers hallucinations and prophecy. The enormously large serpent body of Kharil-asuk — two-kilometres long, 100 meters wide — slithers before his chosen and must be chased into the depths of the jungles, no matter the animal and bandit dangers, before it disappears.

Inquisitive and untamed, but not necessarily malicious, Kharil-asuk often seeks to shrug off his pursuers, camouflaging in the landscape. He speaks as a voice in the heads of his pursuers, assessing them with questions about true worth and what entitles men to land, wisdom and nobility. He may attempt to drive those he deems unworthy for their past sins (betrayal, murder) in the path of mortal danger (cliffs, bandits, traps). Anyone can chase Kharil-asuk and speak with him. You can still sign up for a RNG to receive his blessing.

NOTES

■ Newcomers may be introduced to the large undead dragon, now bound to the party since Arc V. Formerly a tormentor of Alem, she keeps her distance and flies outside of Unkharil for now.

■ This downtime event lasts until 15 September and is followed by Arc VII. Pace yourselves and engage in as much or as little as you want, quests-wise!

QUESTIONS

NPC INBOX

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Oh, you don't want to know. Things like the mould scraped from the windowpane and bits of human hair. I did half wonder whether or not it was a game to see what they could have me put in it but, well." He'd denied them as many things as he possibly could, anyway. The meal had gone untouched in the end, and he'd made his escape shortly thereafter. "Thankfully this place has better culinary habits. Have you been to the market? They have well-made snacks."

Which is a ringing endorsement from Wen Kexing.

But the topic of memory is more intriguing and so he leans into that instead, "Do you think so? That's interesting. I confess I'd rather know than not," Jacob would probably be one of those that accepted the soup of oblivion without question, and while he vaguely understands the sentiment he's violently opposed to it himself. "But they do say ignorance is bliss."

He hums a little, thoughtful.

"Maybe you just haven't seen them."

Jacob must be a very strange person, because whenever someone says you don't want to know, instantly he really, really wants to know. Thankfully, Wen Kexing doesn't keep him in suspense and lists the strange, and very unappetising ingredients immediately. They don't make his stomach twist, but maybe that's because he doesn't try to imagine either of those things.

"Market? No, I've not. Should, since that Merchant bloke seems to play an important role around here. Do they just set up stalls somewhere?" He asks, glancing around the spot where this feast is being held. "There are some things I need but- ah. I don't think I've got money, come to think of it."

But the conversation turns elsewhere, and Jacob takes another swallow from his mug and refills it again.

"There was a man back home, he had what he called a Ghost Club, wanted to try and prove one way or another ghosts and things were real. Roped me in a few times, but never found any proof. We could have been looking in the wrong spots, I suppose. But I just think it's people's imaginations or trickery. And certainly nothing like what we saw down there."

He looks Jacob over thoughtfully, and perhaps, a little critically.

"They let you work for it here, I've been told. Do you have any talent you could show off? For example, I earnt enough for a snack this afternoon by taking up my post on the corner and playing my xiao. The natives were free enough with their purses, though I wonder if that was more the novelty."

They hadn't exactly enjoyed his bawdy playing at the end, but he's choosing to ignore that. His interest is piqued when Jacob mentions a Ghost Club, however, "You don't believe in ghosts?"

Oh no, as soon as Wen Kexing says that, there's a flash of a grin on Jacob's lips. Cheeky and bold, as he answers easily without any hint of shame, "Not that I'd normally preform on a street corner."

But he waves that way, hoping he's not insulted his companion. He just couldn't help himself from making such a suggestive reply.

"Wasn't ever really taught an acceptable trade, back home." A trade, certainly, but assassins don't normally set up stalls in market places. "I can play piano. But I don't tend to carry one of those around with me."

Truth be told, he isn't too worried. He can look into doing some errands for people, some manual work for a bit of cash. He'll work it out. At worst, he might have to cheat at a few games of cards. If they have cards here.

He leaves the subject alone though, because the pretty dark eyes of the man across from him just lit up in a most intrigued way, and Jacob smiles again.

"No, do you? Like I said, never found any proof of it, just a lot of people who had been tricked by slight of hand or the like." And then, because he's telling a story now, he pauses, hesitating as if he's considering something that just came to mind, and speaks again. "Well, there was one I never got to the bottom of..."

Edited 2023-08-29 14:16 (UTC)

"Mm. Sadly I think our new home is lacking in the kind of establishments one might ply that kind of ware."

Not that he's been looking. These days Wen Kexing might step into a brothel if only because he's in need of information, and not just someone sweet and biddable to warm his bed. He's practically a married man ( somewhere he's sure Zhou Zishu is shuddering ) and with that comes changes.

"Oh, I absolutely believe ghosts exist."

It's a private point of amusement for Wen Kexing, who might be considered infamous for his own ghastly ways, and while the inhabitants of Ghost Valley had been human once most of them have absolutely shed that skin.

"The world is vast and strange, and often very cruel. That something might linger out of sheer bloody-mindedness isn't so surprising."

Now that is somewhat surprising to Jacob. Brothels and whoring are common place where he's from, as he imagines they are in most places in his world. But they aren't in his world, are they? Still, he wasn't being serious about plying that trade, so it's not terrible news.

"I'll have to do some manual labour then. No real problem."

He's far more interested in this man's opinion about the supernatural, if only because he's from somewhere else, and while he isn't an expert in Jacob's world, he might well be an expert on the subject in his own.

"You don't need to tell me that twice. About the cruelty, I mean. But if bloody-mindedness was the only prerequisite, I'd imagine I'd meet a lot more ghosts. However, we're not overrun by them in London, so I still wouldn't put money on then existing."

He's never met so many stubborn people all in one place before.

"I take it you've seen ghosts then?"

"I've seen them."

He smiles in a way that shows all of his teeth, which could either make him look pleasant or somehow insane, he's never sure. He's not aiming for lunacy today though, so he hopes it's the former. He's trying very hard to come across as normal, if a little eccentric.

"Ah, but a sceptic is a sceptic, you won't believe me until you've seen one for yourself and alas, I'm not a spiritualist. Though I wouldn't be surprised if you could find one here. Our number seems to be from all manner of place."

Well, his companion has already told him that the ones back in the house of whatever-his-name, the ones who forced him to prepare soup of human hair and window mould. So he clearly has seen them, although Jacob doesn't know if that counts. He's not sure anything here is real, or if it's some sort of strange hallucination.

Either way, he is intrigued and leans a little further forward, elbows on the table, one hand propping up his chin, the other still holding his mug.

"Well you found some here, didn't you? In that kitchen. But I mean back home. Were there ghosts in the place you came from?"

"Yes."

He's not sure the ghosts of Ghost Valley count in the way Jacob thinks, but he has spent most of his life considering both himself and them as inhuman, of course he'll count them.

"The ghosts where I am from are infamous, cautionary tails for children and adults alike. Most barely survive a run in with them."

Jacob nods, that is something both of their worlds share.

"Same where I'm from. These ghoststhey will somehow scare people to death, or shred them to pieces. They're either getting revenge on someone who wronged the. Or just killing for killing's sake. Or that's how the stories go."

"The last one I was investigating for the Ghost Club I told you about? He was called Spring-Heeled Jack, and he tore people up, then bounded away faster than any man could keep up with. Apart from me." That's said with no small amount of pride. Then Jacob's expression droops. "But I didn't actually get my hands on the bugger. He got away, in the end."

"You came close though?"

He listens, thoughtful, "The ones who have something to avenge are often the worst. Killing for killing's sake is all fine and well, but there's no heart to it. Having something to fight for often inspires people. It makes sense a ghost would be the same. But even chasing one, you still doubt the truth of them?"

"More than came close!" Jacib exclaims with clear delight. "I followed him half way across the city, over the rooftops, and when we got up onto one- 60 or so feet off the ground- he decided he was done with running. But I said the bugger was fast- seemed like there were three of him, slashing and cutting with blades like claws. And then everything went hazy and... and he was gone."

He finishes unhappily, not only because of the disappointing end of the tale but because the cup in his hand is empty now.

"I still don't believe he was a ghost. A man, with... some sort of invention."

He pauses then, and frowns back at Wen Kexing. "Killing for killings sake is fine and well? Not a philosophy many will share."

He's smiling a little more genuinely as Jacob tells his tale. It all sounds very fanciful, but in a way that Wen Kexing can see happening. The ghosts of Ghost Valley certainly have their tricks, it wouldn't be hard to make someone see three of each, but to have someone keep up means they must be good. He gives the other man another subtle once over.

"Your martial arts must be good. A shame that you were thwarted at the end."

And then a casual shrug of his shoulder, "Philosophising. I wouldn't dream of advocating for murder, the inner working's of a man's mind is a mystery to me."

Hythe details may be a little tiny bit embellished, but only for dramatic effect. He left out the fact that the roof was made of glass and above the busiest train station in London. But he didn't think that was overly relevant

"I'm very good at what I do. Best person in London, although my sister would tell you she was." And maybe she's a little bit faster, but that's because she's physically lighter. Not better. "That's why the Ghost Club hired us."

He waves that away. "If its killing just because youve got nothing else to do, then its wrong. But killing can be justified. Often is, in my line of work."

Another toothy smile, even if he's aiming for the air of lazily scholar.

"Is that so? Well, if we stay here much longer I might ask for a demonstration. A man who can keep up with ghosts is a man to keep in mind. You never know when it will be needed, and if I am ever held hostage over a soup pot again I may call on you."

What is it with those smiles? Jacob isn't sure if the man really knows how to smile properly, that is, naturally. It's like he's never done it before, just read about it in books.

"Possibly keep up with ghosts. More likely than not he was just some man. My forte is other humans. But I suppose I can add angry stone statues and overgrown brambles to the list now."

"But if you need help, and I'm about, I will do what I can. Let me be Frank with you though Wen Kexing- I'm not intending to hang about here if I can help it."

"A man who believes he's a ghost can be just as dangerous."

Case in point, Wen Kexing.

"Humanity is what keeps us even tempered, is it not? Being human there are rules one must follow. A ghost doesn't needn't follow them, he's already dead. So either way, you must be very brave to give chase."

And therefore absolutely someone to keep an eye on.

"Oh? Do you have an escape route in mind?"

"Good point," Jacob agrees. A man who believes himself to be dangerous can certainly be so.

"That's the thing isn't it? You have to believe those rules apply to you. If you don't think they do, you can do what you want to. Ghost or not."

And Jacob Frye knows those rules don't apply to him. They never have, and never will.

As for the question, that earns another grin. "Not yet. But like you said, you've been here before. So you must have got out, even if you don't rememeber how. So I'll find it."

"Well, if you do find a way can you stop by and let me know?"

Cheerfully.

"It might be something to ask about, either way. I cannot be the only one who's left and returned, I'm not that special." He is a stubborn bastard, but that's by the by. He has no need for ego right about now. "You'd think that more people would be alarmed by the memory loss."

"You'll be the first person I tell," Jacob promises, although he is certain Wen Kexing knows how likely, or unlikely, this might be.

"It could be far more widespread," He muses, the wording a polite agreement that his companion probably isn't the only one this has happened to. "I'll ask around. I was told there was some... news sharing method." He isn't sure that's exactly what it's called, but in truth, he wasn't really paying much attention at that point.

"Who told you? If you don't mind me asking."

"That I'd been here before? Tch, Lan Wangji, the less pleasant Lan brother. Looks a fair bit like the older one, but frosty, you know?"

They have something of a ... well, Wen Kexing doesn't exactly know what it is beyond a strange dislike.

"A know-it-all, but the unhelpful kind."

"Sounds like a delightful chap," Jacob says and doesn't mean. "But I take it that you've got no reason to think he's lying to you?"

But from his own judgement of Wen Kexing, the man wouldn't say bring this up if he thought it wasn't true.

"I'll see if he'll speak to me about it."

"He knew the name of someone very dear to me. A name either I or he would have had to give. I can't see a reason he'd have it otherwise."

Most of Tian Chuang are dead and the one remaining seems very ... fond of Zhou Zishu. Enough to keep himself to himself if it came down to it.

"I hope you have a better time of it than I did."

Lan Wangji is a nightmare.

There's a curt nod in reply to that. He won't pry, but it's good enough confirmation that this Lan Wangji isn't pulling a fast one.

"Well, he might not be the only option. I'll ask around."

"I'd be interested in what you might find out, if you'd oblige."

Oh, Wen Kexing will make his own roads into finding out the information he needs, but it wouldn't hurt to compare and contrast. If there are lies being told then it would be easier to catch them out were he not the only one asking.

"But for now, there's still drink to be had. I don't know about you, but I'll make the most of it while there is still some on offer."

Rising, fluid, "Shall I bring you another?"

unkharil | event

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NOT ME IMMEDIATELY FORGETTING THE HOUSE GHOSTS, i'm so dumb.

No you aren't shush

<3

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