let's set d o w n some (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
groundrules) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
westwhere2023-11-01 05:35 pm
groundrules) wrote in westwhere2023-11-01 05:35 pm
Entry tags:
- arcane: caitlyn,
- assassin's creed: ratonhnhake:ton,
- ephes,
- event,
- kingdom of the wicked: emilia,
- lockwood & co: anthony lockwood,
- mcu: america chavez,
- mcu: bucky barnes,
- mcu: natasha romanova,
- mcu: yelena,
- oh! my emperor: beitang moran,
- one piece: luffy,
- one piece: nami,
- one piece: sanji,
- one piece: zoro,
- tian guan ci fu: xie lian,
- umbrella academy: ben,
- umbrella academy: five,
- warcraft: wrathion,
- wheel of time: elayne trakand
the channeling
WEALTH WHISPERS
Assignment: the Merchant fears that Matthias, alleged father of the undead Brotherhood, might be the ‘merchant’ who was due to receive dark water-infused grains by sea from the Hand. Chasing information, the Merchant routes party members towards the docks-side underworld district of Tibras, in the outskirts of Ephes. The Hand keeps grain warehouses nearby.
In Tibras, short and decayed houses are like parasitic growths toppling each other, plaster peels falling into rivulets of bloodshed. Tension thrives. Petrified, natives overwhelmingly number beggars, pleasure workers, crude bounty hunters and thieves, who look to cut throats or purse strings. Occasional bodies drift by the docks.
■ Just outside of Tibras is the abode of the merchants’ syndicate — a ring of warehouses, private clubs and houses of currency. Merchants here are protected via steep fees and travel freely. Inside the syndicate house, doorways are barred by inextinguishable living fire — which you can cross unharmed, if you rearrange the runes marked N, W, S, E on a nearby wall in a cardinal-point formation. You can also pretend to be a servant, a merchant or quality inspector to get to the Hand warehouses. Ask a clue.
Alternatively, the Merchant forewarns that a notable guest will join the syndicate for three nights: Captain Maximilian Hawk of the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company, which deals in magical artefacts. Hold him at knifepoint, seduce him, do your worst for knowledge!
■ By the entrance to Tibras is the shop of Apollonius, noted collector of supernatural artefacts and information broker. Crafty and sly, he will cooperate, in exchange for a pair of ‘eyes’ from the ghost Tykhe, who haunts the nearby anonymous burial grounds. Come midnight, Tykhe’s spirit — whose sight was gouged — appears and picks out and bewitches a pair of marbles, buttons or stones to act as her ‘eyes.’ With them in hand, she searches the graveyard for her dead sister, Cassandra. You can steal the orbs, or she’ll give them freely, if you escort her from tomb to tomb to reunite with the mute ghost of Cassandra. Return to Apollonius.
■ Deeper within Tibras is a gambling nest of sailors who were cursed by a scorned sea witch to assume the appearance of sea creatures. Led by the giant octopus Crassus, they charge protection fees from commercial merchant ships and even intimidate pirates, gleaning information from sailors and recovering drowned bodies. This illustrious group adores games of chance — as long as you can cover your losses.
You can decide or RNG how many tries it takes for your character to win — submit a finished thread to get a question! The higher the stakes, the better the information.
- — a scantly informed junior goldfish throws dice. Lose, and you must share a highly embarrassing secret.
— a moderately informed catfish, offering Baccarat. Lose, and he steals your good luck for 24 hours.
— a composed, well-informed whale plays roulette. Lose, and you must share one of your most precious memories.
— a highly-knowledgeable shark, Aurelius Longus, plays a mean hand of poker. Lose, and he asks blood or a pledge to save his life one day.
THE FLOORS
Senate leader Caius Justus exits his seclusion, ending weeks of prayer to convey the message of Ephes’ divine patron, the Chained God of chaos. And he says in a public speech:
Friends, Ephesians, countrymen…
”Friends, Ephesians, countrymen, lend me your ears. I come to speak for the Chained Father, not to praise him. The victory men reap lives after them; but cowardice is often buried with their bones. So let it be with Ephes. The noble Senate tells you, the Chained Father wishes only Ephes’ destruction. If it were so, it is a grievous fault, and grievously has the Father answered for it. Here, under leave of Messalina and the Senate – for Messalina is an honourable speaker; so they are all, all honourable speakers – come I to speak of the Chained Father’s wishes. He was my maker, faithful and just to us: but Messalina says, turn away from him. And Messalina is an honourable speaker. He has brought many territories under the heel of Ephes. In his name did the Hand rise: did this in the Chained Father seem unworthy? When now you weep asking empire, the Chained Father answers: tells you to be made of sterner stuff. Yet Messalina says the Father is unworthy. And Messalina is an honourable speaker. You all did see that I withdrew to his temple, where he spoke to me: Ephes, seize your path alone — was that unworthy? Yet Messalina says to turn away from him. And sure, Messalina is an honourable speak. I speak not to disprove what Messalina spoke, but here I am to speak what I do know: you are all children of Chaos, not without cause. What cause withholds you, then, to use the Hand yourselves? O, ambition! You have fled to brutish citadels. And men have lost their courage. Bear with me: my heart is in the temple, there with the Chained God, and I must pause and beg the Senate to vote against Messalina, til it comes back to me. ”
Returning to public life, Caius Justus advises the Senate to refuse Messalina’s proposal, but defers to a vote. Citing recent civil unrest, he imposes citadel-wide 10 p.m. curfews, bans congregations of more than eight people in the streets and sends the Hand to confiscate any visible weapons and to quiet or pre-empt unrest. Hand members — forced to present in large numbers — appear erratic, prone to violent outbursts and to taking out their anger on civilians. Hand leader Narula is excessively smug.
Newscasters are careful with their words, speeches decrying Messalina abound, and senators are‘escorted’ by Hand delegations, also for their protection. Caius Justus announces he will run again for Senate leadership — to begrudged murmurs among Senators, given his previous pledge to retire.
Assignment: lure Senators toward the position that the party supports. After Caius Justus’ return:
- ■ 51 Senators back Caius Justus to refuse Messalina’s proposal.
■ Maximus Faustus convinces 53 Senators to accept Messalina’s proposal
■ Caelius Silvanus persuades 47 Senators to vote to postpone a decision on Messalina’s proposal for another season.
Following the party’s previous interventions, Senators are open to considering Messalina’s cause. Many are skittish, fearing their careers or lives will end with disobeying Caius Justus. Optionally, party members previously assigned a political role might receive threats from Caius Justus’ supporters.
■ Persuade, bribe, threaten or blackmail a minor Senator to switch votes. Perhaps you can offer coin or rally supporters in the marketplace for their next election, or heal their donkey or get rid of that pesky boy mooning after their daughter. Or maybe prove their corruption streak, or place a polite knife at their throats. Hold the whole Senate floor hostage, if you want, of blockade Senators from entering the Senate on voting day!
■ Ask for a RNGed Senator if you want or submit threads of swaying votes. A final tally will be taken on 19 November
INCENSE
Priests of the Chained God whisper that the god shows signs of awakening to trigger an apocalypse. Chained and warded twelve times to prevent the end of the world, the Chained God allegedly rests in the Halls of the Sleeper, in the underground belly of his main temple in Ephes. Above ground, the temple is silent, rife with milling priests, hummed prayers and cloying hallucinogenic incense that encourages lethargy. Access is unrestricted, but monitored.
To progress downstairs, you may need to convince guards that you are one of the groups of ferociously devout pilgrim worshippers, or a priest. Below, you feel overcome by creeping, paralysing dread.
■ You are haunted by sinister, saccharine voices murmuring intrusive thoughts only you hear, diminishing your worth and paranoically asking if your companion means you harm. You are more irritable and prone to violence.
■ The halls increasingly resemble narrow subterranean corridors with limited and overheated air reserves. You reach locked stone gates, covered in loose chains and crudely carved with the inscription, the Sleeper awakes. Instructions state the Chained God demands sacrifice and proof of chaos.
■ To enter the Sleeper’s Hall, instructions say, you must commit an act of betrayal, by: drawing your companion’s blood and smearing it over the inscription (lean into the corruption!), which prevents them from entering the halls with you; or chaining them to the door with the gate shackles, condemning them to watch as you enter; or pushing your companion away, verbally eviscerating or attacking them until they flee. With player approval, your character could get a sense of what theirs is emotionally or physically vulnerable to, then exploit it. Acts of betrayal cannot be faked.
■ The Sleeper’s Hall is narrow, nearly spherical and lit by thin rivers of flowing magma that cross cracked floors. Amid swelter, you hear the periodic gulps and quakes of stone trembling around you. The supernaturally sensitive feel the presence of great, if constrained power.
■ The black water previously associated with the undead also gushes from rifts in the ground. It has a cold, sinister aura.
■ Search the room for clues — and leave urgently, before corruption consumes you.
■ Towards the middle of the room is a large, nebulously shaped creature, fully fettered and covered in magical wards, chains and blood-painted runes. Anyone in the Chained God’s presence may feel overcome by emotional or physical agony, claustrophobia and bloodlust — but the divinity only speaks with the RNG winner.
NOTES:
■ Some players have asked about potentially
■ NPC inbox, if you need anyone!
■ QUESTIONS
no subject
( Her... secretary, who at the very least can be trusted to display adequate calligraphy, if not competent thespian proclivities. He hesitates, lingering at the threshold between mature understanding and childish indignation, before withdrawing in his perfect peaceful world of tacit objection, hands rolled into tight-knuckled fists, his sword abandoned to the side.
The octopus, at least, seems convinced enough to share in Nami's grievance. ) Good people, them's hard to find these days. Who don't be wasting to drink or losing their tempers.
( ...ah, yes. Lan Wangji, profligate drunk, furiously and feverishly red and despairing that seared octopus would, in fact, also violate the sect's culinary precepts. )
I yet hear you. ( A mere note to both Nami and their good host, the octopus Crassus, who is once more nodding, apparently at ease disregarding Lan Wangji and presenting him the broad span of his back tentacles, while he faces Nami. Wonderful. A position of respect. )
I'll be payin' you, little lady. I'm good for my word. Only meant to pay my greetings. Say hello to a fine woman. Can't be a sin, that.
( It is a sin, that. )
no subject
If you ever need a locksmith, I hope you'll remember my secretary and I. [ But ideally the guy with the sword first.
Nami looks to Wangji more purposefully this time, her cordial look in her eyes narrowing with pointed urgency as she cocks her head towards the door, intent on hustling them both out of here before he says something stupid again. ]
We did not cheat? [ She hisses in a whisper as she walks swiftly towards the exit with him, a chastizing older, wiser sister, even if she's really neither of those things. ] You win a lot of games with that strategy before?
no subject
( They escape that situation with the whole of their physical welfare, the dregs of their sanity and the subterranean remains of their dignity. As far as Lan Wangji can see, this was altogether an elaborate success.
Now, he departs, obediently, their knowledge gained and the woman leading before him at the respectful distance afforded to the mistress of a secretary — before condemnation draws his shoulders down, and he appears, morose, no better than a struggling child.
Forgive him, mother, for he has sinned. The crime of his character was utmost honesty. Yet, as they withdraw in humble dark of the district's cluttered, milling underworld: )
Did we cheat? ( Not to say that he suspects her, only that she has changed her face a handful of times already in the brief interlude of their acquaintance. )
no subject
Look. [ Nami steers them off to the side, facing out at the room as she tilts her head towards the edges of the room where quite a few faces are milling about, looking on as the games unfold. ] See? You have to watch the tables before you play, everybody knows that. The dealer could be crooked. [ Or there could be an obvious weakness somewhere just waiting for a skilled player to enter the field and exploit - but he doesn't need to know that. Instead, Nami draws his attention to the baccarat game where quite a few shifty characters seem to be playing observor. ] Never fails. You get the shiftiest types when there's a baccarat table.
[ She looks back to him, finally remembering she's forgotten one tiny detail in this whole adventure. ] What's your name? I'm Nami.
no subject
( Look, he does look: eyes bright and white and sharp, predatory, absorbing every hint and hue of movement, every gasp at the tables, every conceit of surprise or artful disadvantage later weaponised, when a player reveals some great strategy all along. Then, the game of cards: the dealer, luck-craving.
The sea creature seems entirely above board, clean-handed, even permissive and patient — but the twirling lengths of his dangling moustaches catch on the corners of cards, now and then, and is it a play of lights, or does Lan Wangji see him peer at them —
He stirs, as if the question breaks him from a dubious, thick thrall, finding his tongue thick and weighted, the taste of his mouth soured. What is cheating? ) ...Wangji, sect Lan.
( Lying on that count would be it, perhaps. He does not presume. ) You know much of the gambling rooms.
( More, he does not say, than most beautiful women who sell their company at the going rate of ambitious pride prices. )
no subject
I've made money before. [ Does she detect the slightest hint of judgment in his tone? The thought that his mind's gone in a more untoward direction doesn't enter her mind. ] And? What about you? Since you're no card shark. [ A weird turn of phrase to tap into here of all places, but, oh well. They've already made spectacles of themselves tonight, haven't they? ]