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

"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?"

"Best way to do it," Jacob agrees. If this was London, he could do just fine by himself, but he can admit that in this strange world, having as many eyes and ears about the place will help.

But Wen Kexing then makes the best damn suggestion Jacob has heard since he got hereand he nods with a bright smile.

"While it's here and it's free, we should fill our boots."

"Oh, I fully intend to take advantage."

It's a celebration after all, and while Wen Kexing doesn't have much to celebrate he absolutely has things that alcohol will make a little easier to bear. And so he reaches for Jacob's empty cup with a wink. It doesn't actually take him long to fetch more, and in actual fact when he does return he's carrying more than their cups, a jug held somehow aloft. If he looks victorious it's because he feels it.

"Ah, people are so easily sweettalked."

He sits, flicking the sleeve of his robe back so he can top up the mugs again, a little bow of cheers before he drinks deeply of his own. "That's better. Now, tell me more of London. I have never heard of it before."

"By you? I imagine they are."

After all, appearance and poise are half of the battle, the words are really just icing on the cake of convincing people to do as you want. It's probably better to do that here, amongst people they want to get along with, than threaten and intimidate, which is the other weapon in Jacob's arsenal.

He happily takes another drink, not really sure if he should question the jug- not exactly how it appeared, but how it seems to have travelled to them, and lets it go. Maybe the local booze is stronger than he thought.

"London? Hell of a city, the biggest in the world I've been told, old as balls too. And rotten right to the core." Which isn't said in a disapproving way, not at all. Jacob loves the city that has become his home. "A maze of alleyways can take you anywhere you want to go, or there's the rooftops if you fancy the view. Nothing more beautiful than the stars through the fog."

He gets a sharp, pleased smile in return at the flattery, mug held carefully between the cage of his fingers as he listens to Jacob with interest. It's a curious way of talking about a place you're fond of, but then again, Mount Qingya holds it's beauty despite all of the dark places that reside within.

"I wonder why those in charge bring so many different people from so many different places. Not that I will complain about that, I have always been a fan of learning, and the world is wider than any of us could possibly know. It's a good to discover more, such as you can."

Another sip, tipping his head a little. "Have you been there your entire life?"

"Probably for that reason- we're stronger when we're different." Jacob says, musing on it. "Lots of skills from all over the place. Lots of experiences. If we can all work together? Best way to solve their problem." Of course, if you have the skills you don't need to hire other people, do you?

"No, we grew up in the sticks. The countryside." He translates the slang, "London has been run by... my family's enemies for a long time. We're trying to change that." It's not exactly the truth, but it's a close enough explanation for someone who doesn't know London. And someone who shouldn't know exactly what Jacob is.

"What about you, what's home like?"

"You might be right about that. I'd hazard a guess that each person here brings with them something valuable. Why else would we be here if we couldn't be useful? There's little point."

It rankles at him though, Wen Kexing has fought hard to be his own master, he does not like the expectancy that he might need used one day. Another gulp of his drink, hands reaching to top up the mug. "Mm. Not a place, really. I'm more of a wanderer."

It isn't exactly a lie. The Ghost Valley is not his home, it's a cage that he's been throwing himself against the bars of for quite some time. He thinks he might find a real one one day, wherever Zhou Zishu decides to place himself, but for now it's hard to say.

"There's too much world out there to belong to only one part."

"That's if they brought each one of us here on purpose. And it wasn't some complete cock-up, bringing someone here from each of our homes at random."

Not that he likes to say that, but he's going to be realistic. They don't know exactly if their presence here is purposeful, regardless of what they've been told.

"Home can be whatever you make it, I suppose. A place. A family. Wandering always sounded fun- my grandmother used to tell us stories about pirates. Always seemed an exciting life." More so than what he is destined for, anyway.

"It can be, though I don't know much about pirates. My Ah-Xu and I, we're going to travel once all of our business has been attended to. He wants to look at some mountains, I have never seen the coast. It will be nice to do something simple like that. I suppose after, if he wants to settle I'll join him, but until then the world is too big to stop at only one place."

His tone changes while he talks, turns less cool, more fond.

"All a man really needs is good food, strong wine, and the company to share it with."

unkharil | event

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

No you aren't shush

<3

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