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.
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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. |
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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. |
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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. |
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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
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westwhere2021-06-14 07:23 pm
no subject
[One thing is certain, in Moran's mind.]
Always cut off the head as early as you can. Things won't stop until you do.
[And he knows someone like Lan Wangji would know that.
The sigil on his forehead glows again and he suddenly thrusts his sword backwards, lodging through an undead's chest who was coming for his head. The creature's movements stop as it flails, and Moran wrenches out his blade from its torso and lob off its head off in one smooth movement.
And then he stumbles back, breathing hard. he's not sure exactly how many time she's done just that in the last few hours, let alone the last few days. his muscles are screaming, but his hold on his sword hilt doesn't waver.]
no subject
But Beitang Moran strikes back, the creature behind him topples over, speared, and a flickered arc of blood turned sludge from extensive decay and the mounting storms catapults to Lan Wangji's cheek. Lands. Splatters. He stills long enough in stupor to pass the back of his hand and smear it down, sketching himself marked and anointed, revolted and ridiculed.
Absently, he nearly (but never quite) neglects to raise his wire at the very last moment and catch another dead man in the spider's web of his entrapment. It's reeled in but struggles, like a hooked, squirming fish when it seizes the ground, and Lan Wangji distracts himself with the play of snow and shadows on its half-lingered, half-flayed-off face.. ]
They recognise threat of their own accord.
[ Do not, therefore, seem to require the leadership services of a guiding hand in granular detail. If Unhalad dictates them, it is not to the exclusion of their instincts — but to complement and refine their strategy.
So be it. They take the wager. Against the deep burning of the house, unwinding like thread from a fraying knot behind them, Lan Wangji shifts his gaze to Beitang Moran, holds it steady. ]
Will you come for him?
no subject
Just like he doesn't begrudge Lee Chang for taking command inside of the house, he doesn't begrudge Lan Wangji for his clearly superior skill on the battlefield. He knows himself and what he can do. He has no idea what exactly Unhalad is or isn't, but he knows he is not going to be one of the ones who can take him down.]
I'll be more hindrance than help over there. I'm more efficient here making sure to hold them back from the house.
[And making sure none sneak up behind you.]
no subject
Eyes ever on the prize of the coming assailant, raise Bichen, swing down, let the drip of innards foul the snow's dust red, before the sword comes up again. ]
You risk yourself in isolation. [ The art of conversation, come the cries of war. A lost endeavour. Still: ] No sacrifice required.
[ There is a man who waits. Pale as Lan Wangji, finely-mannered. A Jin by any other name, borrowed and held in foreign esteem. Su Xunxian will write a hundred grudges in blood for the loss of a comrade, and Lan Wangji will not be he to cast eyes red and askance.
Best they do not waste master Moran while live there still the owls to sing his dirge and the companions to grieve him. If he should commit his suicide, let it be with letter and inheritors, rotted by age.
Not here, with Lan Wangji within reach. ]
no subject
[And thanks to his (useless) power, he should be able to see if this is the best tactic or not.]
Trust me to guard your back long enough for you to guard his [with a nod towards Archeval]. I have been in battle with insensate creatures before. I can hold a while longer.
no subject
One turn true, the next brokered. It has become, without their fixed knowledge but to their communal, quiet understanding, the great fairytale of one man against the odds. Archeval. His journey.
They will bear him on shoulders broad and deliver him, sword sharp and well-aimed to thrust once and well into Unhalad — and see the great, sprawling beast of their one-day nightmare felled. To this, they work: Beitang Moran, eerily readied. Lan Wangji, distantly hastened to drive his sword back, in another corpse's flesh.
He knows he must step away. Cannot bring himself to, gaze thawed when it walks Beitang Moran's face. ]
Fall today, joss will burn at your altar.
[ As reassurances go, frail. ]
no subject
[But please, he really isn't planning to die. Been there, done that, it wasn't fun.]
Go. You're needed elsewhere.
no subject
At least he knows better than to say, Do not die wearing the stiches of Wei Ying's face on this day. ]