he rode in, a king

[groundrules]

HONEY, WE’VE GOT VISITORS

Sa-Hareth-brand Cassandra tries to flag the future, gets left on read. True story — and then, the dead come. His offer neglected, a desperate Unhalad resorts to sieging the farmhouse in search for the mirror that was previously on the Imperious.

He’s in for disappointment, while the party prepare for... house guests over the early-morning 16 June to 17 June period.

Around 3:30am (16 June) of a storming night, those who are awake or sensitive to the supernatural may hear the winds and fleeing rats whisper that something comes. At 3:45am, Karsa’s wards around the farmhouse set off, briefly shrieking. Within minutes, Unhalad’s undead infiltrate the farmhouse, with one slight creature first entering down the kitchen chimney. A small faction of undead remain on the roof, while a swarming majority circle the farmhouse. Throughout the night, they attempt to break in through doors and windows, making slow progress. They are warier of the forest-facing back entrances. The attackers comprise droves of undead, some clearly only recently converted in haste. They are weaker for it.

Over time, the undead drip into the farmhouse. They lack the coordination for a concerted effort. Attempting to exit within the first three hours of the siege will prove disastrous, as too many undead wait outside. The undead will seek a mirror, being first and foremost drawn to Winnie, who carries a similar item on her person. Fox and Five will also be of interest. Fox can escape attention by discarding the shards. Any character that was bound to Anurr’s tree still bears the lingering marks of Anurr’s undeath is especially perceived as an enemy. Regulus enjoys the same treatment, given his extensive recent stay with the free people. The undead will savagely wreck the house in their hunt, striving to kill those in their path. They can be slain regularly. The older, "properly" summoned undead (identifiable because of their clear state of rotting) should be incinerated or severely amputated to avoid further resurrection. Because of the overwhelming number of undead, it is best to keep lean, mean and mobile within the house. Karsa joins the farmhouse around 6am. She’ll teleport in, but the density of undead outside will prevent her from teleporting out safely. Alongside three party volunteers, she reinforces some of the wards, decelerating the advance of the undead. Her group will also throw away any of Unhalad’s markings (salt and ash) out of the house and into the inner garden pond.

Come sunset (16 June) Unhalad himself will ride outside of the farmhouse, holding distant vigil over the hostilities with his retinue. On his arrival, unbound farmhouse animals will flee into the forest. Unhalad will be recognisable because of the immensity of raw power he emanates — a feeling of great and overwhelming despair and hunger. Options to evacuate the chaos include sneaking out, fighting the undead, calling on reinforcements from any local allies, or holding position until around 8am of 17 June, when Unhalad’s last-minute forces start to disintegrate because of the haste in which they were summoned. The minority of Unhalad’s forces that were summoned back alive with the appropriate diligence will not break down and will need to be banished. The free people will not intervene, unless they are called in.

If you’ve made it this far into Sa-Hareth’s worst hazing ritual, congratulations. A few more days of crud to go. Over the next few days before the 21-22 June departure, characters will have to make do with their shattered lodgings and dearth of supplies, or can seek sanctuary back in Sa-Hareth. Any money spent on accommodations will have to come out of the travel fund. You're on your own, kids. The animals can return from the forest, and the free people might spare some food and water, gifted to those who stood out during Anurr’s trials. The Anurr cultists of Sa-Hareth could also part with a few provisions for their good friends, Xie Lian and Xiao Xingchen. To opt out of the event, have characters out of the house on the night of the siege. It will be difficult to re-enter. The OOC plotting floor is yours!

FARMHOUSE LAYOUT

Comments

[bearshermark]

a. the fight

[Eleven's twin blades flash with fire as they sever limbs and take up the acrid smell of burned flesh that will follow him through much of the siege. He fights with a vicious ferocity that may surprise those that have only ever seen him at ease; contrasted to narrowed brows and bared teeth coupled with the dually deadly dance of his swords as they cut down any undead that makes it into the farmhouse.

Occasionally, it's lightning rather than fire, sparking along his blades, then sweeping outward in a spinning arc of electricity to give the emerging undead an altogether unpleasant shock and grant them some pause before continuing their advance.

Eleven skips back a few steps, giving himself a moment to breathe as dredges of tiredness begin to wear on him]

..Do you think we can hold them?


b. medical attention

Hours into battle, a call for medical attention found Eleven retreating from the front lines to apply his energy elsewhere. He only meant to heal the wounded then return to the fight, but had sorely underestimated how much work there was to do. They needed water- or snow- that then required heating. He retrieved the supply packs he and Wei Wuxian hadn't yet distributed to tear through them for bandages, cloth, ointments- and later, hardtack.

Wounds cleaned, disinfected, and unable afford the energy to seal all of them fully, Eleven spared only enough magic to heal them to the point where they were no longer debilitating. Bandaged with a recommendation to eat and rest a short while before returning to the fray if an individual fit enough to, and if the walls of the makeshift ward weren't currently under threat.

Working under a constant worry and pressure, he hardly felt the cold. There was a lot to organize, and not all that many hands. His spare moments were spent disposing of bloody water and cleaning, and switched off with Hendrik in shifts to rest and recover his energy.

Resigned to his position as medic, Eleven took to prodding information about the state of things from those that stopped in for one reason or another while he worked- either as patients, defenders, or new helping hands.

"How is it? Last I'd heard, we were gaining some ground.."


c. aftermath

[He's tired. Everyone is. But he's alive, and he can stand on his own two feet, so that's something. They'd won the battle, even if, in some respects, they'd also lost.

The farmhouse is barely recognizable.

Eleven has made cursory efforts to clean, but the damage is too extensive and the task so overwhelming that he doesn't get far. Instead, his feet carry him to what used to be the garden- a singular place of solace in a land otherwise set upon by undeath. But as with everything else, it's beyond repair. The crops are trampled and scorched beyond salvaging and for some reason it's the sight of them more than his comrade's grim, exhausted faces that drains the last of his energy.

He slumps to the ground and knows that if he had the energy to cry, he would be. The urge wells up in his chest, crawls up his throat and stings his eyes, but doesn't make it any further than a few shuddering breaths before it fades, dormant.

It's morning, though it feels like it shouldn't be. In a little while, there will pressing things they'll all need to worry about, but for now, Eleven draws his knees to his chest as the cold begins to make itself known again and drapes over them, staring listless and unfocused at the ruined earth and scattered debris beyond.]


d. wildcard!


[ooc: action/prose, present/past tense is fine! likewise, feel free to wildcard for anything during this event scenario that might not neatly fit into the above prompts and we'll work it out]

b

[unswervingcompanion]

"We are doing well enough." Hendrik replied, watching the Luminary heal someone as he wiped his gloves on his cloak. His shift had recently ended and it was hard to sleep knowing his charge was going to be called upon soon. He tried to make sure the other ate and slept and while he didn't really like being so heavy handed, it was simply his way of worrying.

And since he couldn't truly sleep anyhow, he helped remove blood stained cloths and helped as well with trying to obtain enough water. It was a sobering experience though he'd dealt with some of his own soldiers being wounded from battle in Heliodor and in the Last Bastion. But mostly those were taken by others. This was different as he was literally more hands on here. And it always rattled him inwardly as others spoke to him about their hopes or dreams as if they were dying and wouldn't ever have a chance to tell another living soul.

As information trickled in he was sure to report it to Eleven and the suffering irked him. It was a reminder of how much the people went through here and how much the folks of Cobblestone back home must've suffered due to Heliodor's assault. His green blue eyes focused now on the the one he would've destroyed and that would've set the world back who knows how many years had he succeeded. And Hendrik was infinitely glad that he hadn't.

"If you need to rest, you can go."

[bearshermark]

"What?" Eleven glanced back to Hendrik with a flash of a tired smile. He hadn't gotten enough rest, but that was a difficult thing to manage during an invasion. "I just started. You're the one that needs to take a rest. It'll be difficult to protect me if you're tired."

Pointed reminders to Hendrik about his oath wasn't the sort of tack he'd normally take, but just as the man had taken on a new fondness to push him to rest and eat, Eleven had turned to employ similar tactics. It was effective, and through the strain and tension of a long-fought battle, it helped with maintaining a focus on priorities.

"I promise I'll call on you immediately if there's a breach."

[unswervingcompanion]

The knight was familiar with how the Luminary looked when he was tired. And with the light barb that was leveled his way had him fix the younger man with a half hearted glare. "I do not need as much rest as you believe that I do."

Hendrik hadn't been able to rest no matter how much he tried. Some of this was all too familiar, people in pain and needing comfort or reassurance as they mended and healed. It had been something he tried to do for his soldiers of Heliodor, and he never tried to begrudge them his presence since it meant a great deal to them.

There always seemed to be less of things like this when Jasper had the reins and the two worked together, but that was something he never admitted out loud. But for now he stepped away from his charge and looked around.

"There are more than need tending to and you will exhaust yourself if you do not have an extra set of hands." Meaning his of course.

[bearshermark]

"And you're not made of stone," Eleven returned, tying a careful knot at the end of a dressing. He offered his patient a soft smile and a reassuring pat, then rose from his knees with a blooded cloth in hand.

"Hendrik..." he said, voice pitching softer. But for several breaths, he simply looked at the man, took in his bearing and the conviction that never seemed to leave his brow for even a moment. In that way, Eleven found he could understand a little of how Jasper must have felt. The Hero of Heliodor. Of The Last Bastion. A man that had already conquered the darkness Eleven himself was still afraid of despite evidence of a scripted future. In comparison to a man so widely accomplished, he was but a clouded star.

By rights, he should be serving as the man's squire, rather than Hendrik acting as his retainer of sorts. He'd done nothing so far in his life to earn the authority he'd found himself with- save perhaps, for a touch more healing talent than most others here seemed to possess.

"..Okay," he relented at last, "But we can't both of us afford to have used all our power should someone come in with life-threatening injury. I'll save my magic for injuries threatening life or limb while you stem the bleeding for most others. We'll call on Xie Lian if your strength begins to falter."

[unswervingcompanion]

The knight might not be made of stone but he had a duty to do and that meant that he had to be watchful. One false move in this place surrounded by death would be the one moment that something would happen to the Luminary. And that wasn't going to happen on his watch. So he just shook his head stubbornly.

But then Eleven said his name which of course had him listening. If there were orders to be received, he would dutifully carry them out. He himself hadn't yet tried to get a feel for the place because the place itself did not matter. All that mattered was keeping the boy safe from his harm. That was his oath, his duty and his everything right now.

Finally though it appeared as if the boy would have him assist to which Hendrik was only more than happy to do. True he didn't hold half of the power that the Luminary did or would again, but he could help wherever and whenever it was needed. Stoically he nodded to what he was hearing. "I will do what I can."

It wasn't as if the knight could sleep anyway so he might as well be doing something useful.

a

[royal_venant]

"That depends," Regulus said, now that they had a moment to catch their long-lost breath.
"How many of them are there?"

He had more questions, such as: were those swords magical? But Regulus needed more than a moment before he sated curiosity.

"And how big is your faith?" Always the skeptic here.

[bearshermark]

"Difficult to say," he breathed, voice heavy, "Most of them are outside."

But he cracked a laugh and flashed Regulus a sharp grin as his mind made the connection to their previous conversation. It was almost like they'd predicted this somehow, wasn't it?

"Extensive," he answered, shifting into a defensive stance. To think he'd been at odds with the man only days earlier, but here they were firm allies. "We'll get a drink, after."

[royal_venant]

A shared enemy pounding on the doors could make allies out of disagreements.

"There are many outside," Regulus pointed out, "And we have thin walls and failing magic between us and them." His skepticism always right there on the surface, though he'd never considered the possibility he'd have doubts about magic.

"Does faith stretch that large?" It wasn't entirely a dig, Regulus knew nothing about faith or trust. Only here had he started to learn anything about either.

[bearshermark]

"There are a lot of them," he acknowledged. Too many to count beyond shadowed silhouettes, warily advancing. "But faith will lend us more strength than despair."

Eleven's expression set, eyes tracking their movements.

"If nothing else, have faith in your strength and remember you aren't fighting alone. It isn't futile; each undead you take down eases the burden on all of us."

He breathed. Regulus was a ranged fighter. He'd have to keep them from getting in too close.

"Above all, never forget there are people relying on you to stay alive."

So... DW never gave me this notif, I'm so sorry I'm late.

[royal_venant]

Regulus' usual expression was neutral to a step above disgust. He'd long ago learned to keep his emotions off his face (except when expressing thoughts about tea, that was always fair game). It was just necessary to survive in his family home growing up.

Sometimes his other emotions leaked through, though. Like now.

Because he was honestly confused.

He was not what he would call a brave individual. From eleven years old, it was hammered into him that Slytherins were sly and cunning. And Gryffindors were brave and bold. So he just didn't think about his own self in terms outside the prescribed expectations.

People relying on him to stay alive sounded an awful lot like a Gryffindor's preview.

"Why would anyone look to me for protection?" he said. Incidentally, just as an undead rounded the corner down the corridor and he sent a curse dusting it apart. He had not equated what he'd just asked with what he'd just done in any fashion what so ever.

[bearshermark]

It was impressively efficient magic, and Eleven swung into the oncoming fray to keep the undead from crowding Regulus so he could continue to cast without interference. He'd work on the front lines while the other targeted the back.

"Because you have strength," he answered simply, swords flashing through crippling blows and decapitations where he could manage them swiftly. "And we're all... together in this."

c

[lancifolium]

Using both hands to carry the little zippered pouch as though it held something highly breakable Lily abandoned the task of using the Repairing Charm on the damaged farm, managing to get a few beds back into shape for the most injured before her exhaustion swept over her like a concrete blanket.

Unlike the mornings she came here once the voices had quieted down, there was no peaceful respite to be found in the garden, just more battered evidence of the terrible events that had deluged them all.

She recognized Eleven looking as broken and exhausted as she felt and walked towards him, gently setting the bag down on the ground a few paces from where he sat. ]

"Do you want me to try and fix a bed for you?" Lily posed the question quietly as she approached, sitting by him on the ground with a weary sigh as her hands reached up to comb through her wildly tangled hair. As spent as she was, she was sure she still had a little bit of energy left to help one more time.

[bearshermark]

Eleven raised his head and, recognizing Lily, put some effort into sitting upright at least. His arms were left to drape between his knees.

"No, that's all right. I'm just.." He'd felt exhaustion before, but this was deeper than that. There was probably a word for it, but his mind couldn't begin to think of it. He shrugged. "It was a long battle."

Because although he'd spent most of it well behind the front lines, he was sure most all of them felt the same. They'd barely slept, hardly eaten, and spent the last full day fighting for their lives.

He turned a look on Lily, taking in her disheveled state alongside the comforting fact that she seemed to be moving well under her own power. Tired, but not to the stiffness of injury.

"I'm glad you're all right."

[lancifolium]

The moment she sat down on the ground Lily knew she was not going to be able to get up again for a good while. Bone tired and rattled to the core she might not have been drained enough to fall asleep on the cold ground, but she could certainly not move for a second.

"It's for the best, I'm so tired I fear you might end up with a milk stool instead of a bed." Rolling her shoulders Lily tilted her head from side to side, stretching her neck. She was sure she still could reassemble another bed if she had to, but at that second she had never been more worn out.

"You helped a lot of people," she continued pushing her hair over her shoulder and out of her face. On the side of her head was a small wound where she'd caught some fist or weapon in the fray, but it hadn't bled for very long and was about the worst of the injuries she'd sustained.

Smiling tiredly Lily looked back at Eleven. "I'm glad you are too, I don't think we could have made it through without you."

[bearshermark]

His eyes caught on the injury and the dried trickle of blood. Not a recent injury, and she seemed perfectly lucid.

Eleven's gaze dropped under the weight of her earnest recognition, but the flutter of nerves failed to manifest as more than a passing discomfort. But there was pride there too- a tiny, fragile kindling of it. He could claim it without guilt, without the feeling that he hadn't truly earned it.

Perhaps the truth of that credit was a little stretched, but it was hard to prove otherwise. It might just be the reality.

"It wasn't just me," he demurred, "Hendrik worked just as hard, and getting that water without you would have been a great risk.. There were a few others that helped. And of course, everyone that fought to defend us. Those that took down Unhalad.."

He dearly wished he'd been there for that, but the wounded had taken priority. "We all had a hand in this victory."

[lancifolium]

While he spoke she looked back at the ruined garden and the mangled walls of the farm surrounding it. Lily hoped with everything she had left that they would still be getting away from this terrible place, but until then the work hadn't ended. Even if - as he said - everyone had already done so much.

"You're right, we all did," she sounded exhausted but full of gratitude that they had made it. "But you were brilliant my friend and I intend to tell you as much." Just like when she told him she was going to make him a cup of tea earlier, it was not an offer, it just was.

"Why do I have the terrible feeling it's going to be a long time before anyone here gets the rest they need?"

[bearshermark]

Eleven heaved a sigh, but with it came a tired smile. Yes, he could take his part of the credit for saving the day.

"Hm..." He leaned back, eye closing. "Probably because we'll need to figure out what we're doing- if we're going or staying to wait for word.. Salvage supplies, secure shelter- hopefully eat at some point."

Sleeping wasn't really on the agenda but for those that had already succumbed to unconsciousness. Eleven blinked his eyes open and straightened before he could do just that.

"I think... we're likely to pour our energy into shelter today while we discuss our options for tomorrow. I'm sure everyone is too tired to move far."

[lancifolium]

"You're right. We ought to find the most solid room still standing, fix what we can, and build a fire." A fire sounded absolutely wonderful but doing everything else before getting to stop moving long enough to enjoy it seemed like a very lofty aspiration. Lily didn't like the idea of staying here if they didn't have to, but she didn't think they had a choice for the time being. Even if they had been given an immediate exit, she didn't think she would get very far.

"Do you think anywhere's fit to sleep in with a bit of work? I'm a bit worried Regulus is going to freeze on the ground." Lilt tilted her head towards the makeup bag on the dirt and frowned tiredly.

b [CW: a bit of gore for beheading a zombie with bare hands]

[scrapgege]

Well, they're definitely in the house, but I think we've hold them off of the barricaded...

[Xie Lian doesn't get to finish that sentence. An inhuman growl sounds only a few feet behind him and he whirls on instinct, sending a casual back hand that way that... catches an undead right across the face and sends them flying into the wall of the corridor.

It doesn't stay there of course. It immediately stumbles back and for a brief moment, it's as if Xie Lian is airborne, floating and not quite jumping before he throws a punch and catches the zombie's chest and pushes it back into the wall... and then through the wall, which gives with a groan.

Maybe everyone else's luck is balancing out Xie Lian's abysmal one and it doe snot appear to be a load-bearing wall, so that the house does not fall on top of everyone. Good.

But the thing is still moving, and really there isn't much to do but to put it out of its misery.

Xie Lian has no blade, and he can't use Ruoye for this. But there are injured people behind him that need cover.

he grabs the undead by the throat and lifts it. His other hand grabs the chin and jaw and then he... pulls apart in different directions.

The noise is absolutely repugnant, but the zombie's head is torn off his shoulder as if it were a funeral paper puppet, not a being made of flesh and blood, and Xie lian drops the two bits on the floor afterwards.

His beautiful face is speckled in blood when he looks back again. He pretends he doesn't notice it, like he pretends not to notice the noises the undead make, of how the body still felt faintly warm when he beheaded it.]

Sorry about that. We'll keep them away from here. Don't worry about it.

[bearshermark]

[Eleven grimaces, visibly repulsed by the state of the undead and the dark blood spattering the floor and Xie Lian himself. It's an impressive feat of strength he wouldn't have expected from anyone lacking Hendrik's build, but Xie Lian is a God, so he likely shouldn't be terribly surprised]

..Um, if you'd like a sword, you could borrow one of mine. I'm not getting much use out of them at the moment.

[scrapgege]

[The robes hide a a lot, Eleven. Yes, there is some supernatural power here, but also muscles.

Xie Lian's fingers twitch when he is offered a sword. When was the last time he held one. His own, even. Maybe when Hua Cheng showed him his armory. Or when he got Fanxing back, but he didn't use it much then.

He really misses fighting with a sword, but...]

I don't really need one, and you need to make sure you can defend yourself as a last resort.

[bearshermark]

I have two- and him.

[He motions back to Hendrik with a wave. The man can fill an entire doorframe besides. Decided, Eleven unstraps the sword hanging uselessly at his side and getting in the way more often than not, then offers the sheathed weapon to Xie Lian]

You'll be able to take them down faster with it. That will aid more in our defense than me having two blades for a worst-case.

[scrapgege]

... Alright. If you're sure.

[It will be faster with a blade, for sure. And Xie Lian is a martial god, and he's always been good with blades.

He'll grab the hilt and pull the blade out - he doesn't need the scabbard- and... he can't help the smiles that comes over his face as he feels the wight of the sword in his hand. He gives a few experimental twirls to test out the balance and heft of it.]

Thank you.

[bearshermark]

[Eleven nods and tosses the scabbard into a corner piled with other, useless things that had cluttered the study before its function had been stripped and repurposed.]

Take good care of it.

[It has a twin blade, after all. But he's sure by the look on Xie Lian's blood-specked face that he will. A part of him is quietly pleased he's taken so well to it.

Eleven takes a moment to look him over more thoroughly, peering at the patches of blood he's relatively certain don't belong to the man himself, but best to be sure]

..You aren't injured?