westwhere | he rode in, a king

he rode in, a king

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

["Sleep," he'd urged the fraught look in the boy's eyes, hand outstretched and winding with a desperate twinge of magic. "You'll be safe, here."

To his unending gratitude, the battle begins to wind down before Five wakes. The incessant shrieks of undeath come fewer and further between as the tide ebbs. It's still possible he'll need to address additional injuries, but for the moment, Eleven breathes a sigh and allows himself to settle on the floor beside the desk he'd stashed Five's sleeping form beneath.

It's impossible to know what will happen when the spell wears off, but the least he can do is provide him with some measure of assurance when it does.]

[ For a moment his mind retreats to a familiar dream. Scavenging through rubble and the smell of death in a world still on fire. There are bodies everywhere he turns, some faces still twisted in abject shock in their last moments. The ash burns in his lungs as he wanders in the desperate hope of finding someone, anything that survived. He never can find his remaining siblings so he can bury them with the others. Everything is dust and quiet but for his own screams into the wasteland as it swallows him in darkness.

Five opens his eyes to an unfamiliar space. Almost claustrophobic. The stench and filth of old gore hangs off him and he struggles to put back the pieces of his memory for how he got here. At some point he must have passed out, but he can't...

He's in agony, but not from any injury that he can pinpoint. It's like a bright ball of suffering buried deep in his chest that threatens to suffocate him, and he pushes back against the rising panic over what's causing it. Something outside of himself. A poison, he remembers thinking before. That doesn't quite make sense though, now that he's rested.

When he turns to see that he has company, he snaps to attention and immediately teleports the short distance to disarm him -- before stopping short in recognition of who it is. Eleven. The arm poised to strike falls, and he stares confusedly as he seems to come to an unlikely conclusion. Did he drag him here? ]

What-? [ What happened? He frowns deeply as the implications start to land. How much of what he remembers is real, and how much was a nightmare? ] Why are you here?

[Eleven blinks, jerking in place while knowing his reaction time would have been too slow to fully counter; he's too tired. But Five does seem to recognize him, eyes clearing after a stretch, and it's a relief to see it even while confusion lingers.

Eleven's shoulder's lax, and he tips his head while he considers Five's somewhat odd question. But from the wild look he remembered seeing and the terse lines of the boy's body after his sudden appearance, it's possible he doesn't remember where he'd been]

I haven't left; there may yet be more injured. But the battle seems to be over, from what I've heard. ..You're okay.

[ The battle. Five is quiet while he thinks backwards to the overwhelming number of undead crashing through their flimsy defenses. They'd been coming for him, and he lost track of everything for a while. He could have handled it, if he wasn't having symptoms that he's too disturbed to put a name to.

No, he's not okay. But he's alive, and he nods grimly.

Eleven looks like he's been through it, but he doesn't recall how he found him out there. He'd apparently avoided getting caught in the crossfire if he chose to take him to safety. Five does know that by then he was barely coherent as he fought against more than what he could see. Unwittingly, he thinks back to Wangji, asking him if he heard voices. How strangely he acted the last time he saw him.

He spares a quick glance around them, taking stock of anyone nearby. Vanya... shit. This is exactly what he was trying to prevent. ]

Tell me what happened. How long was I out?

A handful of hours, I think. It was still dark when you appeared in here.

[The sun had since risen to shine on a bleary morning, glaring light through ash. Beyond that, he can't say. This second night had passed in a blur of darkness, death, and changing injuries.

Eleven stifles a yawn, then pushes himself to his feet. He'll rest once he's sure there's no one else to tend to. He doesn't have highly specific details about what happened- most all of his knowledge is secondhand- but freely offers what he does know]

There was some great clash of power outside that felt like death and heat. Then as the sun rose, I heard that what undead remained had started to deteriorate as though the curse holding them together had lost strength.

[ Five watches him get to his feet, but makes no effort to do the same. It sounds like they'd won. Good. He must have teleported here at some point, though he can't remember why or what caused him to pass out. Sheer exhaustion maybe. Getting a handful of hours of sleep might account for how his head feels clearer now.

He's hesitant to ask more about that clash of power. Eleven doesn't seem to know, and the world obviously hasn't ended. No thanks to him. ]

What do you know about curses?

[ That question comes out of nowhere, and Five looks to meet his eye when he asks. It's a guess that hadn't occurred to him until he uttered that word, but he can't help the creeping suspicion that someone had been setting him up for failure. Someone who knew what he's capable of. If that's true, there is a very real chance that they used his ignorance against him. ]

[Eleven turns a complex frown on him. It certainly isn't a question he expects, and it takes him a few moments to come up with an answer]

Well, it's usually darker magic and they can vary widely in effect and complexity. Some are short-lived, or may require undoing by a priest. The effects of others may only fade if the source of it is removed.. And certain talismans may help to ward them off.

[ As suspected, he knows something about them. Five takes in that information in slowly, trying to narrow down the probability that it would explain what's happening to him. If so, when it would have occurred. He can hope that it will simply wear off on its own and try to ignore it in the meantime. They have more pressing matters.

He can feel the sweat coming down his neck, and he wipes at it. This entire situation really blew up in his face. ]

So they must have taken down the source. [ He swallows, still feeling like his skin is vibrating but trying to appear outwardly as calm as ever. ] Unhalad was here, wasn't he?

Yes.

[That presence had been difficult to miss, even for his diminished senses. Overbearing and oppressive, provoking a dire worry for their lives and defenses. But somehow, in a way he hadn't been witness to, they'd managed that as well]

You'd have to ask someone else for details of course, but I know it was the combined efforts from a handful of us that defeated him. Archeval and Lan Wangji among them.

[A touch of pride at that; he'd entrusted Archeval with the fight at the front lines while he retreated to heal. In a way, hearing he'd been involved in that clash felt like a personal victory, although he hadn't physically been there]

Edited (new ic info) 2021-06-20 10:41 (UTC)

[ One would think that news like that might elicit a smile, or at least a congratulatory remark, but Five is dead silent as he absorbs the implications. What he felt in Unhalad's presence hasn't left him. That incessant phantom pain inside mixes with sudden nausea at the abrupt realization that they've lost the one who might have led him to the rest of his family. With him gone, how is he supposed to find them?

He needs to check on Vanya. Pulling on his powers, he rips space open to take him outside -- only to miscalculate and come out by the door of the same room, then promptly bends over to empty the meager contents of his stomach out on the floorboards. ]

[In a blink, he's gone, but Eleven's eyes snap to the doorway to the sound of retching, and he follows it]

Five?

[He looks terrible. Eleven reaches out a steadying hand for his shoulder]

Let me at least get you some water before you go. You're likely dehydrated. I reckon a bit of hardtack would help settle your stomach as well.

Edited 2021-06-21 18:00 (UTC)

[ Five coughs at the same time he tries to swat him away, scowling up at him once he settles. Nobody needs to tell him that it's a pathetic display. Despite what people might say about him, he's fully aware of his own shortcomings. Chief among them his inability to... well, there's no point dwelling on it now.

It's obvious that he made a mistake. ]

You've helped enough. [ His voice is raspy from the burn in his throat, and it comes out more bitterly than it ought to. It's like a bad habit with him. ] I'm fine.

[Eleven withdraws his hand with a wince, but he can't expect anyone to be happy about having been slept against their will. It isn't normally a course of action he'd take, though it had seemed a prudent move at the time as someone responsible for the well-being of those under his care. Five has every reason to reject his help now, but neither can he simply let him go in good conscience]

Please. A few minutes- just enough to drink a bit of water and eat a little. You're likely to collapse after too much longer, otherwise.

[ It's his last comment that sharpens his gaze, but he can't seem to hold it for long. His stomach feels marginally better from the mess he made on the floor, and the surprisingly restful sleep might have done him some good, but now that he's awake there's no denying the shape he's in.

His memory still feels hazy, muted under the pulse of whatever is torturing him, but he seems to recall Eleven being there in the moments before he passed out. ]

A few minutes.

[ He sits back and wipes at his face with a dirty hand. Eleven may soon regret that offer, because now that he's looking at him he's suddenly interested. ]

What did you do?

[Eleven settles with a relieved breath, eyes sliding off Five as he turns to rinse his hands and fetch him a cup of water and wafer of hardtack]

Do... [The question puzzles him a moment, as it had seemed Five was already aware, but recalling once more those haunted eyes that looked as though they couldn't parse friend or foe, it's possible he didn't.

Eleven hands over the meager offerings with a twitch of what attempts to be a reassuring smile but only manages to look nervous and tired]

..I put you to sleep. It looked like you were.. distressed.

[ Five watches him as he moves about, and he's still got his eyes locked when he takes what he offers. Somehow that hadn't occurred to him. He should be outraged, or at least horrified that he was defenseless against a magic-wielding teenager, but he's resigned to the fact that he wasn't in his right mind. He wonders what he saw when he found him if he felt he needed to knock him out and drag him away.

After a while he looks down at the cup he's holding, frowning as more of it starts coming back. ]

The sword came in handy.

[No outburst, as he'd feared. Perhaps he's simply too tired to manage it.

Eleven leans up against the opposite doorframe. It's almost surprising that it held, but given the various wards and charms, and how staunchly defended it had been, well it's something to take hart in- proof of their resilience to the onslaught.

He looks over Five again and hums a short, curious note]

..Which one?

[ It's a lucky break. Misery outweighs his anger, and he's too distracted to focus on it for long. Nothing feels right. ]

Some more than others.

[ He takes a drink of water, wishing it were coffee, and looks back up at him. In hindsight, he might have been better off if Eleven had refused him once or twice. That sticks in his mind when decides to tell him this one thing. ]

I used it on the... that body, in the lake. Before all this happened.

[Eleven blinks, not having expected that]

Oh. [He doesn't know too much about it, other than the echoes of a mirror that could release the undead from their curse. That the body itself had been undead shouldn't be a surprise. Now that he thinks about it, Five had mentioned something about helping the dead.

So that's what he'd needed the sword for? Although he still doesn't quite understand why any other blade wouldn't work, he's too tired to try asking about that again]

Did it.. help?

[ At the time, it served a purpose. One that he'd agreed to easier than he should have, in retrospect. As usual. He scoffs at that thought and grips the cup tight in his hand. ]

It did something. Killed it again, I guess.

[ He feels like he's going to be sick again, and he's quiet until it passes. Which is ridiculous. He's halfway to thinking this is all in his head the more he talks about it. Telling Eleven about his paranoid suspicions certainly won't help anything; it's bad enough that he caught him when he was vulnerable. ]

Doesn't matter now, anyway. If I saw this coming I wouldn't have bothered.

[Eleven hums shortly with a careful eye on Five's pallor. There isn't much more he can do for him, save for perhaps finding a pail for him. It gives him something to do, a way to focus himself while he muses through the vague remarks.

The dead should be allowed their peace, but Five had never seemed terribly interested in trying to put undead souls to rest. A change of heart possibly, but it still strikes him as a side of strange. The body in the lake hadn't been just any ordinary undead, infused as it had been with the power similar to the mirror on the slave ship]

..Was killing it meant to accomplish something?

[ The pail is appreciated and uncommented on. By now he doesn't have much dignity left to save, and he'll use it if he can contain at least part of his mess.

He tilts his head at the question, which seems to be the same one asked at a different angle. That should be expected. Five did bring it up in the first place, even if he's not sure why he did, other than it being on his mind. ]

If you're wondering why I did it, I told you before. I made a deal. [ A bad one. Because that's what he does. ]

And I thought it might... I don't know. Fix whatever was going on in the woods. The jury is still out on that.

[That's right; he'd said that before, without detail. But the latter reasoning holds his attention for a few moments. There had been a number of concerning things about those woods]

..You mean the spirits? Hm. I guess that could be possible, if they were bound to that body in the lake in some way. The battle drowned them out if they still linger. We'll find out tonight, I imagine.

[ He sniffs and shrugs. Then he regards the hardtack in his hand for a moment before taking a bite and chewing slowly. His stomach twists as he swallows, but he keeps it down.

It hasn't escaped him that he might have recently been on the verge of a mental breakdown that started at that lake, and he's still dealing with the aftermath. He almost wants to ask what he did, but it'll probably come back to him eventually. ]

... What does it look like out there?

Edited 2021-07-03 04:06 (UTC)

[Eleven's eyes flick up to the patches of missing ceiling and patchwork walls even charmed and well-defended as they had been]

Hendrik's gone out to check.. I'm staying here in case of any last-minute emergencies. But so far as I've seen and heard from here, the farmhouse itself isn't looking well. But overall, we seem to be doing okay.

he rode in, a king

post-siege

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)