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

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You still sound like people back home.

( because yep, he's heard that before. bucky shifts slightly, not liking all the attention on himself but not wanting to try and so obviously change the subject either. )

I don't tend to keep a tally though.

( he just assumes he has no friends. )

Maybe I'll make friends with the fish.

( A moment's hesitation, crisp. Then, calmly, Lan Wangji completes the metaphor — honouring his distaste for the process, to start with — by gently removing his bait from the water, with a sudden pull away of his line.

Inevitably, unsurprisingly and staggeringly, he has caught nothing but lost his bait. Truly, how? )

Do you often think to massacre and cannibalise your friends? ( So he is clear. )

( that's a question, isn't it?

his face doesn't move, expression stony but it definitely hits him right under the ribs. he takes a breath. )

Wouldn't exactly put it that way.

( but he has tried to kill them. )

( A moment of stillness, of perfect and immaculate silence. Of Lan Wangji, teetering on the cusp of awe, turning in increments to face Bucky, and ask, politely: )

How would you articulate?

( ...to improve this situation that Lan Wangji would say is, by definition, unsalvageable. Do not mind him. )

I was an assassin.

( he says it blankly, not wanting to show too much emotion. he's moving past it, leaving it behind but it will never, ever go away. )

And I didn't care who I killed.

( He recoils. It cannot be as simple as a plain, crude truth offered in the purest shape of its brutality, without eliciting a reaction.

Perhaps better men master the cut of their gazes and cruelty of their tongues more artfully. His brother might not have betrayed the true colours of his stupor.

But Lan Wangji lacks that composure. )

...there must have been cleaner coin to gain.

( With the breadth of his back, whatever wit he possesses. Through honest work of his body or of the field. There is always — alternative. )

Wasn't my choice.

( so yeah, it wasn't that simple. and though he doesn't go on to explain, his shoulders tighten up a bit. )

I didn't do it for money.

...then? ( At the behest, perhaps, of allegiance. A ruler, a general, a man to whom Bucky found himself sworn. One for whom shedding blood is a small cost of companionship.

But then, is that not mere soldiering? Assassination, by definition implies an element of — subterfuge. Of crime in deep shadows.

Of elusion and collusion and men who cannot fight back. )

What changed?

( bucky takes a slow breath and then rubs at his face. )

Then, someone got through the programming.

( and got through to him. )

And I was able to get free of it all.

( Someone. Perhaps a friend. An enemy. An unlikely, third-party, unrelated saviour. He cannot divine the nature or circumstance that terminated Bucky's enslavement, only — and here, his gaze walks the man's features, the cut of his cheekbones — be graciously, tacitly thankful.

He kills too well to be made weapon, to start. And there is a hurt in purposing a man only to slaughter.

No use in platitudes, in Lan Wangji filling silence only to satisfy his private need to dispel the embarrassment left in the wake of their conversation. Instead, soft: )

...you caught fish. ( Or at least, something is tugging. )

Edited 2023-08-29 17:50 (UTC)

Once upon a time, yeah.

( not since he's been here but he's definitely caught some fish. sam had definitely made it a big deal. )

Nothing recently. It takes time and patience. I didn't have a lot of that back home.

( There is a part of him, strained and metallic, that answers in kind. That knows Bucky's hurt intimately — the strange tinge of alienation, once removed from purpose. )

They forge my people for war or exorcism. ( Two... distinctly different tasks, somehow reunited under one emblem of monastic violence. He makes no attempt to reconcile the two callings — only nods, and waits for Bucky to catch his eyes, to understand him. )

Here, civil strife. Or peace.

( They are both... beyond their natural elements. Perhaps at time useless. Playing with fishing rods, for want of better things to do or greater help to give. )

That's two...very different things.

( it's an observation that he can't help but make. he shoots a glance over. )

What did the forge you for?

( Sorrow. Strain. No: the answer, academic. ) Whatever my brother could not achieve as heir.

( The typical purpose of a second-born, anticipated as a segue of the main heir. What is too dangerous, too complicated, too opaque or obscure for a sect leader, his successor should pursue.

There is less risk in endangering Lan Wangji in such things. )

But he surpassed expectations.

( And so the anticipated pressures avoided Lan Wangji squarely. )

That's a lot of pressure.

( on him, on his brother, on the both of them. )

He's not here, is he? Your brother?

( Would that were so. Instead, Lan Wangji stills, gaze tellingly averted. A heartbeat, another. Whatever truth he wishes stood proud between them, it is not this. It is not so. )

He arrived, in recent days. ( He will be no more spared than were any of them, no more averted. And he was not made to suffer, as Lan Wangji is. )

He is... delicate. ( In ways this place does not treasure. )

You guys...good?

( as in do they have a good relationship and all that. he doesn't know how to ask that without point blank asking. )

Things between you good?

Should it not be so? ( But there is an absence there, the hollowness of longing. A fragment of Xichen has been lost, amiss since the demise of his traitorous once ally. Now, it is Lan Wangji who mourns the man his brother was.

Who cannot fight to reclaim him. Even so, they must fish. Pretend to. His hand feels sluggish, dulled on the rod. )

Blood above all.

I don't know if I agree with that.

( blood above all, he means. )

Pretty sure the closest people to me aren't related to me by blood.

You speak, a man alone.

( By Bucky's own concession, a former assassin. A man half a lone wolf, accustomed to independence, to solitude, to distance. He does not think of a combined and blood or oath-bound whole. It is not in the nature of such men to do so.

Perhaps, for one moment, Lan Wangji looks at him with the weight of pity. Then, away. )

It need not be the blood of veins. Brotherhood. Kinship. Alliance. ( Adopted sons, friends, lovers may answer this call. )

Thanks for the reminder.

( that he's alone. he doesn't sound too upset about it because it's not untrue.

he pulls on his line before shrugging a shoulder. )

None of my family is still alive. I kind of have to find blood in people who aren't related to me.

( ...none of his family.

A true orphan, hurt unmitigated, his life devoid of care, protection and affection, baring the trinkets of attention won from strangers. Lan Wangji does not pity him, cannot wound him with such distant feeling.

But he settles, quietly, on the nearest and dearest thing — his hand, reaching out to drip touch on Bucky's upper arm. One pat. A second. He withdraws. )

My son is not of my body. He is loved above all.

( ...a callous reminder that someone allowed this man to look after a son. )

You...have a son?

( bucky isn't sure why that surprises him. maybe it's because wangji looks so young? or that he hasn't mentioned something so important before?

though, bucky knows that that's not a true reason. there's plenty of significant things that he hasn't mentioned either. that he probably will never mention. )

That's...tough.

I do. He is present here. ( A lovely beacon of sharp light and joy, known by far too many names. ) Sizhui of clan Lan.

( Perhaps there's a deepening to the corners of his mouth, like a cleaving, a nascent smile. He will not betray himself with such a confession. Only nods once, timidly, in the way of every parent who has learned that to flatter a child too profusely is to damn the family to a reputation of arrogance. )

He honours us.

( Not unlike praising him to the high mountains, for Lan Wangji. )

I don't think I've talked to him.

( he doesn't think so at least. if he has, it's been brief. )

It's not hard for you? To know your son's here and to know how dangerous this place can be?

(no subject)

downswing - 2023-09-06 17:46 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

traumatology - 2023-09-07 11:33 (UTC) - Expand

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