unkharil | event

[groundrules]

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

Comments

[deescalate]

[Every time his hands plunge back into the chest, he wades through a mixture of disconnected bits of pieces of memories. Nothing cries out to him as particularly strong or related to their current quest, though, and Cal focuses on clamping down on the urge to listen regardless. He's always been curious and while that comes in handy with his gift sometimes, other times it gets in his own way.

So more stacks of paper are set aside and a leather pouch is rifled through, though the latter ends up being murkier than the others. Still, no ring or any other trinket he's looking for.

Amid the whisperings beneath his fingers, Merrin speaks, and Cal stops in order to actually hear her. It takes him a second to connect her last statement with everything else.]

Yeah, I did.

[...Hey, wait.

He glances back at Merrin, whose face, as always, betrays nothing, then over to the poor spirit who just seems beside himself, though at least he's not shrieking at the moment. And then back to Merrin.

Should they have this kind of conversation in front of a man who has clearly been grieving for years? Centuries? However long it's been. He clears his throat and peers into the almost halfway empty chest to see if anything shiny makes itself known.]

I mean, yeah. Solitude isn't bad, but too much of it for me is kinda...

[He shrugs.]

I just think a lot.

[nochnaya]

[ Since Cal seems to be very concerned for the spirit and his sensibilities—and she can't say Cal's wrong—Merrin considers the monk again. Addresses him. ]

We need a moment to search, Spirit. I will call you again once we have found your token.

[ He nods, and so she waves her hand and sends him off with another spell. Now that she's familiar with the spirit's energies, it should be easier to call him back once they're done. And it'll be quieter, too, in the meantime.

Because she's definitely not dropping this. Especially since he's so endearingly oblivious to her teasing him—all she'd meant was that the spirit had traded love for monkhood, and Cal the opposite. ]

Was that your only reason for breaking your Order's rules? I am more comforting than your own thoughts?

[ As usual, her expression gives little to nothing away, except for her raised eyebrows, but rest assured: she's still teasing, even if there's an undercurrent of genuine curiosity driving the question. They've never actually gotten to talk about what made him change his mind—what made him know what he wanted now. ]

[deescalate]

[Cal watches Merrin send the spirit away for now, a little grateful for her consideration, but also hoping wherever he's ended up, he's not in more distress. He puts his concerns aside, though, because he trusts Merrin and she wouldn't knowingly put an innocent in a stressful situation like that.

That doesn't mean her directness doesn't put him on the spot. He pauses in his search and sits back, his arms resting on the edge of the chest. But even if Cal wanted to dance around the subject, he knows she wouldn't let him. Sooner or later she'd get what she wanted.

Finding the right words is the hard part, which is why it takes him a few moments to answer.]

You are more comforting than my thoughts, but that's not it. I feel stronger when I'm with you. You keep me grounded and I feel like I can focus more because my head isn't floating off somewhere. When we do anything together...you know, fighting stormtroopers or exploring old tombs, things like that, it just feels right.

[Cal shrugs, but his voice goes softer and his cheeks flush slightly.]

I just really like you, too.

[nochnaya]

[ She can practically see the gears in his head turning as he searches for the right words, and so she lets him. Wordlessly, she takes those few steps necessary to cross the cell, coming to stand at his shoulder, and reaches out to run her fingers through the short hair at the back of his head, an affectionate gesture.

She thinks she might be addicted to touching him, a little. But his hair is soft under her fingertips, like spun sunshine, and so she doesn't stop. ]

As do I. Even if you do think too much. [ She doesn't try to hide the teasing fondness in her tone that time.

More soberly, she adds: ] I know I asked much of you. To go against your Order in this.

[ Not that she regrets anything, to be clear, but she does acknowledge that the Jedi Order forbade attachments exactly like theirs and that, to Cal, the Jedi Order meant everything. Might still mean everything. It was his home, his family, his way of life—and he gave up no small piece of that.

For her. Because she asked. ]

[deescalate]

[Merrin's fingers in his hair send small waves of comfort through Cal's body and he bows his head a little, giving her an easier time should she continue. And Cal hopes she does because while the echoes in this chest aren't overwhelming, it is always nice to focus on something pleasant and very much in the present. That's Merrin for him. He wouldn't trade her for anything.

But the truth still remains that he has let go of the Order's teachings on attachments and he did it because he wants Merrin in his life. Not just as a friend or an ally, but more. The way he missed her during their time apart should have clued him in a lot sooner, but it clashed with the only life he ever knew and how to deal with such feelings, so, of course, he didn't. And then she kissed him and he had to sort everything out in his head and try to balance them, all while still searching for Tanalorr and that whole mess.

Cal doesn't regret choosing Merrin, not when she's proven irreplaceable and pulled him back from the darkest depths of himself. This life he leads now is difficult, probably more difficult than it would have been had the Order never fallen and he still had that safety network. But he is one of the last surviving Jedi, if not the last surviving Jedi in the galaxy and he simply cannot do this by himself. Really, he never has been able to. Even back on Bracca, when he was hiding and in constant and careful fear, he had Prauf and Tabbers and other acquaintances. People who looked out for a scared kid who showed up out of nowhere, or at least didn't make his new life a living hell. He needs people. Maybe it's just in his nature, past the way he was brought up, deep in his cellular structure.]

The Order teaches against attachments so we don't grow fearful when something happens to the person we care about. Fear leads to the Dark Side. But we were taught to have compassion for others at the same time.

[He exhales, unsure if he's explaining this well.]

I...get attached to people easily. I always have. Maybe it's part of my gift.

[He holds his hands out in front of himself.]

Maybe this was always going to happen one day.

[It's hard to say since the Order has been gone for ten years, now. Cal is definitely a different person than he was back then. He would have changed no matter what, growing from just a kid to a young man, Order or no Order. He turns to look up at Merrin, lips upturning in a little smirk.]

I don't think anyone could have guessed I'd fall for a Nightsister, though.

[nochnaya]

[ Merrin has never really understood the Jedi Order's rules against attachments. She's traveled to many places, met so many people, and if there's anything she's learned about the beings that populate the galaxy, it's that so very few of them want to live as an island, including herself. They all crave connection, companionship, in some way or another, and they often meet destruction if they don't find it.

So while she knows the rules, as Cere had explained them to her, Merrin thinks they're a little baffling and maybe even silly, if she's being honest. But they're important to the Jedi—to Cal, to Cere—and she doesn't have to approve of a thing in order to see its value to the people she cares about.

No matter how much she'd wanted Cal. Or, selfishly, how much she'd wanted to burn the rules so she could have him.

But if he'd come to her so easily, he wouldn't be her Cal. ]

One day much later, had I not come along?

[ Oh, she's teasing the hell out of him, a little smirk on her face to match his. Come on, Cal, admit it: she got you good. She's persuasive.

She crouches down on her heels next to him, one knee against the ground, so that they're closer to eye level. Her fingers still brush through his hair, her nails scratching against his scalp, as her smirk softens a little—it's still playful, but undeniably warm. ]

Fall? How far have you fallen for me, Jedi?

[deescalate]

[Had Merrin never come along...

It's not a thought Cal likes to dwell on. Sure, it would have made his life easier to not have to face these certain beliefs and reexamine them, but then...he wouldn't have Merrin in his life. He can't even imagine someone else taking her place. As much as Cal likes people, for the most part, Merrin is one of a kind.

He bows his head, almost in acquiescence.]

One day much later, probably. You're...very good at what you set your mind to.

[When she kneels next to him, his eyes raise to meet hers, though her question has him breathe out a little laugh as he looks away again. How is he supposed to actually answer that? It isn't a quantifiable distance.

But surely Merrin knows that. She's just also very good at teasing people she likes. Luckily, Cal is pretty good at playing along, so his smile remains intact when he looks at her again.]

Oh, you know. At least a couple meters.

[nochnaya]

[ She is very good at what she sets her mind to, thanks, and she knows it, as evidenced by her smug expression. But she thinks she's earned it—seducing a Jedi is no mean feat, after all. It took five years. ]

Only a couple? I'm disappointed.

[ But not disappointed enough to stop herself from leaning in to press her mouth to his, the hand in his hair slipping around to cradle the side of his face. She intends for it to be a quick, undemanding kiss, but—well. Maybe she lingers a bit. It's hard not to.

Despite their current surroundings. After a moment, she pulls back and straightens, tugging on the bottom of her jacket. If they weren't in a dead monk's cell...

Coyly: ] Don't you have a ring to find?

[deescalate]

[Cal doesn't like to think about their friendship - relationship - in any sort of power balance because he's always tried to keep things on equal footing, not just with Merrin, but with those he considers family. Back before the Mantis crew went their separate ways, they always made decisions together and only acted if those decisions were unanimous. He and Cere may have been the Jedi on board, but that didn't make them any better or more important. Everyone had their own strengths and brought their own expertise to every mission.

Between him and Merrin, even now, it's no different. Cal would never dream of trying to overpower her or anything like that. Not that he could, if he's honest with himself. He's strong, he knows, but so is she. Definitely more clever. But despite all that, he can't help but realize that with all the trust he puts in her and the adoration he feels, he would let her get away with a little more than he probably should.

And yet, he can't help but smile a little more against her lips. Merrin can tease with the best of them and definitely leaves most people under her thumb. Affectionately. Probably. But then Cal can win some, too, if her lingering kiss is any indication.

If just for a moment, because he leans toward her when she breaks the kiss, chasing that connection for just a second longer.

And then he breathes out and leans a little more against the chest as he pulls himself back together.]

Sorry, Nightsister. I got distracted.

[His gaze finds hers for a moment and he gives her a little lopsided smile before turning back to the chest. Right. One side is pretty much sorted through, so now it's time to get through what looks to be mostly clothes. A ring could end up anywhere, especially if there are pockets. He'll have to be thorough.

The first few garments on top look to be robes, probably everyday wear considering they don't give him too many strong emotions, and any inner pockets are quickly found to be empty. He folds him sloppily and makes a pile beside him. The next few garments end up in the pile, too, but then he reaches a pair of trousers. Okay, more pockets. Before he shoves his fingers in blindly, he pats them down, feeling for anything that may be left inside.

There, in the right pocket, is something that feels distinctly ring-shaped. Even with the fabric separating his touch, a wave of sorrow hits him and Cal shakes his head before pulling the trousers out to show Merrin.]

This might be it. You wanna do the honors?

[nochnaya]

[ What can she say? She likes keeping him on his toes. Testing the limits of his Jedi patience. Seeing what he lets her get away with, which, it turns out, is quite a lot.

But the truth is, he tests her too, and her patience—at least, this kind of patience—isn't as long as she'd like to admit, especially when he chases her mouth, prolonging the kiss. So if it's wrong to make out a little in an abandoned monk's cell? Well, at least said monk isn't here to see it.

She returns his smile with one of her own, though her smirk is distinctly more smug and entirely unrepentant. For distracting him. ]

Allow me.

[ if the ring's story played out in the way that Merrin is suspecting, it's safer if Cal doesn't touch it. So she digs into the pocket and fishes out the ring, an identical match to the one in the drawing.

For a moment, rather than recalling the spirit and continuing on, she wordlessly considers the ring, so simple and plain in the palm of her hand.

Soberly: ] Their ending was not a happy one, was it?

[ She breathes out, then recites the spell to bring the spirit back, where it manifests in the corner of the room. ]