HONEY, WE’VE GOT VISITORSSa-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
![[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)
westwhere2021-06-14 07:23 pm
no subject
He'd had this dream a hundred times, maybe more. In this house, at least a few dozen, sometimes multiple times a night. Undead breaking in through the windows, sliding down the chimney, falling over themselves in a constant onslaught through the endless night and into an endless day. Every night he relived it and every morning he tried to ease it from his mind, to push the paranoia away. But it never really faded.
Whatever man he had been before the plague, this was what he was now. A weapon tempered for a purpose that he could only half live here. A shadow of a King who's sole purpose was to stop a plague - solve a plague - he was now a world away from.
This world wasn't his. The undead were different, acted different, were begot differently. It had taken him a long time to accept this.
And then the siege began and every cautious rebuilding of Lee Chang's person around something other than a warrior dissolved instantly. He should have known. He should have prepared. Should have listened to his instinct and not called it paranoia.
He should have already made this place a deathtrap for undead.
Now he would have to make up for letting down his guard, and he would have to do it fast.
On the first night, Lee Chang might appear less of a man and more of a demon himself. Woken by the first alarm, wearing only half of his clothes that he'd managed to scramble together - his pants, and a leather cloak lined with fur - he wastes no breath to explain to those he came across, and instead launched himself past them to slide his burning sword through undead throats as quickly as he was able. His bodyguard Ylsa follows quickly behind him, just as eager to fend off the undead, for more than her paycheque. As long as Karsa is here, so she will remain too, and fight just as bitterly as any of those who call this place home.
While the undead breach the house in fits and starts, he will say to anyone close enough to hear him: "Take the head, nothing less will stop them fully."
He leaves many in his wake.
And then, to the barricades - any furniture that wasn't tied down will now be used as defense - shoved up against windows and doors to keep them out. Any people he finds in his brusque requisitioning of the house he will pass instruction to, especially if they don't know what they are doing. To the warriors, he will say brusquely:
"The windows and doors can be secured. We need to keep them from the roof, or entering the courtyard. Buy us time, and buy us space."
Second Day
No one has had much sleep, but to Lee Chang, this is what he expected. The cold too bitter for the sun to hold them back - if it even could, in this world. Lee Chang looks slightly fatigued, but brims with a strange, brutal energy. He's been through sieges of undead before. They aren't doing half as badly as they could be.
And he was ready to call for reinforcements.
In the meantime, any who look tired or lost he will attempt to help them rise to their feet.
"We haven't broken yet. And we will not. But there are still more to come, and we cannot waver."
first night, barricades
Time and space. It felt like they had neither of those things but Lily was inclined to try and give the group as much of either as she was able to. She moved first to the mangled, smashed furniture that now served as the farm's defense.
Passing her wand over as many of the exposed points as she was able to she transfigured them into blades, the magic was rushed and not as elegant as she would have liked, but it would still hurt. In a way this was almost a reprieve from the heat of the fight, it was still hard work but it allowed her to catch her breath in some respects. Tiredness would be coming in a few hours, she had already been weary when the assault began, but the barricades might make all the difference in the end - he was right, they needed time and space.
Turning back to Lee Chang she nodded at him firmly. "What else needs a blade on it?"
no subject
It's impressive and mesmerizing, the way she works, and it's hard to ignore it as he works - moving all the furniture that she blesses with blades and setting up the barricades. When she speaks, he turns his head to look.
"Everything," he says, but there's almost a weary hint of amusement in his voice. It isn't his full answer, and he crosses the room back towards her.
"They'll be coming over the roof, as soon as they are able. Can you turn the tiles against them? Pierce them as they try to scale the wall?"
no subject
"I would need to see them to do anything to them–" Making a face she looked back to Lee Chang. "If you can keep them off me I could fortify it from the courtyard side of things, so they can't get through. Otherwise, our only swift means onto the roof would be unspeakably unpleasant."
Apparation was the worst feeling in the world, and Lily had never gotten used to it. She could only imagine how it would feel for Lee Chang, who had no idea what to expect. If he wanted to gain access to the roof to better secure it she would do as he asked, but she would certainly apologize both before and after.
no subject
It's a hell of a statement, given from a man with no supernatural abilities to a woman who had spent the last several minutes turning mundane objects into weapons of war. She could probably very well take care of herself. But even a sorceress must have difficulty splitting focus, and while he can't do her work, he can certainly do his own.
He looks back, glancing for Ylsa, but she isn't to be seen. She's two rooms over, helping fortify another part of the house. He looks back at Lily as he catches the last of her statement and frowns in confusion.
A furrowed brow, a glance up at the ceiling, back at her, and then: "I do not think it would be wise to punch holes into the roof." That's the fastest way up, right? Through?
no subject
"I'm really very sorry for how this is going to feel, but I need you to stay calm and keep hold of me, alright?"
Apparation is a ghastly experience, and should Lee Chang decide to take Lily's hand he would experience it for himself. A twisting, rather reality-warping means of hurtling through space and time Lily had never warmed to it and only used it when she absolutely had to. It was disorienting, no matter how brief the trip to the roof would be.
Barricades
If you need someone to carry heavy things to build a barricade, Xie Lian is pretty much who you want to help you do it.
He is, currently, trotting down the corridor carrying the heavy oak long table from the kitchen over his head as if it weighs nothing. It's not easy because the corridors are narrow, but the weight doesn't seem to register for him.
"We might want to use this to block several entry points at once. It's heavy, it will hold well if we weigh it down properly."
no subject
Heavy. Heavy, the man says--
"The doors into the rooms next to the pond," he replies instead, the answer coming automatic as his mind works through the necessary preparations despite the overwhelming confusion that he is currently reeling with. He blinks it off. Focus.
"You may be able to brace it against three at once, from the outside. Tell Lily once it is settled, she can turn the thing half to blades."
no subject
He doesn't ask for help to maneuver the heavy table, and soon has it blocking the openings that were mentioned. The wood groans slightly as he pushes it in place, and he takes off his hands quickly.
"Let's not break it. I think it should be fine here."
First night
Moran has fought many battles, but none of them against dead people, so he'll defer to Lee Chang on that without even a hint of bruising to his ego.
Besides, this man's rank is not inferior to his own, even if he'd rather forget about it.]
Understood.
[Still, the day was long, and he's a bit tired, so let him lean on a wall for a few seconds to catch his breath.]
no subject
He grunts as he shoves a broken bench between a dresser and a window, then turns to face the other man, glancing over him. ]
If you're wounded or weary, you will need your rest. There are many things that need to be done that take less active strain. Arrows, if you know how to make them, will be something we sorely need.
no subject
[He's never made arrows before, and the bow is not his favorite weapon either.
Just then his eyes glow and so does the sigil on his forehead.]
... More coming on the roof. About ten of them, just when daybreak comes.
you r a n g
Bichen comes to hand, before his manners remember themselves. Before the world rights, before the natural nausea of scant rest and hard motion dispels itself. Sword aside, he eases to his feet, means to strike at the windows, but remembers the eerie man's one counsel, Do not open your doors to them, come dark.
And she is mother still, shrouding, black of the world and the black of his unanswered questions, and he hastens through the rooms, in search of Wei Ying, who haunts the corridors, his son, who sleeps —
Only to crowd the man first, Lee Chang a ghastly vision, under the rapping beat of their hearts, of footsteps on roof tile above them. He mouths first, but knows they lack the brazier to be seen, for all he raises Bichen beside his cheek to round the words against her glare, "This is no haunting."
Comes trickle, honeyed, but not sweet, and his mind roils, and the wind groans, cleaving winter. They come assaulted.
no subject
This is no haunting.
He replies with only a grim look, the slightest hint of a nod, then a blade drawn across the back of his hand. The sword bites, drinks the blood, and the blade starts glowing like heated coals as it drinks. It doesn't need to drink long.
A clatter of rooftile hitting frozen ground in the courtyard marks their would be predator, and Lee Chang's head turns to the sound like a hound to the hunt. He flashes a look back at Wangji - a verification, or an invitation - and then without another word heads down the hall as swiftly and silently as possible. Outside, the creature makes a bone crunching noise from its throat, and Lee Chang pauses at the door for only enough time as to make sure Wangji is following. Then he's out the door and into the biting cold, barely held off by the warming wards that suffuse the garden's grounds.
no subject
...no. No, there Lee Chang ventures without such cautions, a long deep smear of shadow extending humble dark, and Lan Wangji nearly creaks the floor in his haste, covering a greedy span of ground in two lounges. Bichen betrays him as he passes, like the sweep of a downed star. He thinks first to sheathe her, then — seeing Lee Chang spring into the open gardens like a fleeing hare — decides the night will not be so kindly as to afford Lan Wangji a moment's peace. The night, or this devilry of a man. Better keep armed, then.
Outside, the air's crisped to cat claws of prickling that lances his lungs, a cleansing ache. He breathes, hard and crude, rushing to cover Lee Chang's back with the practise of every man who's made a sworn brother of a comrade at war. This is no time for snobbery over the fit of their range weapons or styles of combat, not with gleaming, wild eyes blinking wide at them from the roof, and swarming from the entrance grounds.
"They may follow us into the forest." If they lure them, if they play bait, if they lose their pursuers between the legions of trees — they might distract the dead from their target, lessen the siege burden on those trapped within, and preserve their own lives.
no subject
He was a fool to not expect it.
His blade starts to burn, fire licking at its edge as he marks them. Not too many, not yet - he's confident that between himself and Master Lan they could dispatch them. But where one of the undead raise their heads, a hundred follow. And a half dozen now could mean a thousand by morning.
He weighs Wangji's words quickly. He squeezes his hand, pressurizing the blood and making a little slip down from his self-made cut to dot the barren ground. But he sees no difference in those gazes, no shift of focus, no sudden lusting frenzy.
"They aren't lured by blood..." He murmurs it, mostly to himself, half to Wangji. It shouldn't surprise him as much as it does. If they aren't here for flesh, he isn't sure what else they are here for, and wracking his brain does nothing except lose him seconds.
"You're faster than I am," He says bluntly as he forms his plan, half helped by the upturned wheelbarrow against a nearby wall. "I'll be the lure, you the hawk."
no subject
He means to ask, but each man wears his linens, his scars and his secrets, and Lee Chang has ever worn his revulsion of the creatures clear. If he knows them hungered — if the miners' dissolution into pangs of pained starvation is to be traced — then perhaps there is seed of wonder to sow into the proposition that they might be drawn to blood.
The scent, metallic against the burning absence of scent and the crisp awareness of pine and screeching snow underfoot, does nothing for the dead who inch closer. Like animals, thoughtful before shapes they do not recognise, testing first their own strength, then that of their intended prey — trying it for the chance of becoming a predator.
Twirled in one hand, Bichen draws a long, corseted blinding line in night's dark, teasing ice shards, while Lan Wangji searches the forests behind them for other inhabitants. The creatures there, the winds that seem, for once, deafeningly silent. Lick of his lips yields them barren, dry, ached.
"Hold." For once, beneath the heavens, wait and take caution. "Too dark to pursue in the woods. Better we both lure them to the lake."
And decimate them there, away from the farmhouse and the trove of waiting victims within.