the harp(y) was a big winged lyre | event + test drive meme

[groundrules]

Hello, hello! Fresh out of the box is the action spanning 14-31 July, also serving as our second test drive meme (TDM). The event is broken in three parts: one exclusive to TDM participants, one that's for the existing crew, and a communal section, as... sparks literally fly, when characters cross paths.

OOC planning & questions are HERE. Existing players can use this log to party, or you can alternatively make your own logs & network posts. Our TDMers are stuck in this playground only, but — to replicate the game experience more faithfully, they can ask questions and briefly interact with NPCS HERE.

Tiny reminder: eastbound is an invite-only game for size control, but if you found yourself here, love the setting or the playerbase but don't know anyone — PM @ groundrules, we'll figure something out. You're welcome to make a note in your top-level comment title, if you're a TDMing newb, shiny and chrome!

TDM TOURISTS | OLD TIMERS | COMMON TIMELINE | NOTES

TDM TOURISTS

A great day to be alive, chipping manicures and clawing out of a salt mine just in time for a befuddled undead cavalry to whisk their visitors away, one by one as they're recovered.

TDM characters receive quartz stones that function as translation and (network) communication devices, before they are presented to Haltham.

Cursing his luck, Haltham informs newcomers they are in the frozen citadel of Sa-Hareth, controlled by undead warlord Anurr. Characters were wrenched free from the mines of deposed death king Unhalad and... two weeks behind the eastbound caravan that is the Merchant's troupe — their one ticket home.

IS THERE AN ACCOMPLICE IN THE HOUSE?

As Haltham brokers their getaway, newcomers are foisted on Caspar and the Lucky Hands, a gang of thieves set to hijack a port delivery of silvered powder. The Hands handle the theft on D-day, but pairs of newcomers are each saddled with a stolen pouch to transport furtively across Sa-Hareth.

They must escape frequent sentinel searches and other petty thieves to rendez-vous within a day at the dark, dusty and overpriced Hog & Mead tavern in the Merchants' Arena.

Anyone caught by local enforcement can spend a few hours imprisoned in a converted fishermen's warehouse, guarded by three underpaid officers, before breaking or talking themselves out. Thank your predecessors, who ruined the only decent jailhouse.

ALL ABOARD

The travel hell punishment fits the larceny crime: after rendez-vous, Caspar, Haltham, two undead and the TDM tourists join some noble passengers, who seek refuge in Taravast after vocally supporting Unhalad.

They board a seven-wagon streetcar pulled by twelve mechanical horses, heading out of Sa-Hareth down the haunted Stairs of Sighs passageway.

To keep the peace, newcomers must pretend to also be disgruntled Unhalad supporters — and to know nothing about the many bags of exotic opiates that Caspar has dragged aboard.

As they advance down the Stairs canyon, characters may observe each night brings a full moon and blood rains that disappear without trace, come morning. They can also hear the melancholic, indecipherable song of a woman — and find themselves dreaming nightly of burning alive, or being buried under hot tar. They will wake alert and increasingly distrustful of their companions.

At one point, the express train horsecar will pass by a galloping arctic bear, which will stop to salute. Do not feed it.

Characters receive a red helleborus brand on their left wrist to identify each other. It disappears within a week's time.

Test drive questions HERE.

» THE NEXT STOP

EXISTING PARTY

THE WAR IN WORDS

The recent emergence of the dark tar-like creatures gradually unsettles Lord Arha and his ghostly armies into violent outbursts. Throughout the day, the legions become progressively corporeal, no longer flickering out of existence and retaining their memories. They remain dead.

The following morning, the harpies throw down their usual homages of splintered aged bone, now alongside withered parchment. The strips feature excerpts from the letters of Arha and the Lady Hatisse — which Mazyar and his people can translate.

After reading one such parchment, a soured Arha takes unasked command of Mazyar's caravan, imposing benevolent but firmly enforced curfews. Grim-faced ghost soldiers start to keep watch of characters at all times. Some will accuse caravan travellers of being witches or spies of Taravast's Attaryl school.

Those crafty enough to pick up Arha's discarded letter can see his hands have smeared it bloodied. Translated, the missive encourages Arha to turn back with his armies from Taravast.

DON'T HARP ON ABOUT IT

All hell breaks loose as Allison, Lily, Wei Wuxian and Five follow tar harpies inside their makeshift "nest" — going down a steep pit into one of the canyon mountains, and reaching the cavernous and shifting corridors of a stone temple. The passageways lead to small chambers that host stone tombs, many opened and still holding the remains of bones and drips of tar.

Angered by the intrusion, the laired harpies turn aggressive and exit into the canyon, starting an attack spree. They throw rocks, claw or fly down and pick up stray animals and humans. Arha and his army can help you defend against the creatures.

With their main entryway compromised, some harpies will leave the lair through the fissured canyon wall, creating a crude and claustrophobic opening. The sorcery contained within the temple will seep out, with magically sensitive characters finding they can no longer quite tell the difference between the living and the dead. (All) characters can now sometimes briefly see the flickered figures of people they deeply miss around them.

Existing character questions HERE.

» AND THEN YOU GET VISITORS.

OLD TIMERS & TDM TROOPS

FASTER THAN A SPEEDING BU—

Gone rogue, some harpies will target a rapidly incoming seven-wagon streetcar, destroying or flying away with eight of its 12 mechanical horses, and the sad coachmen. The remaining steeds are completely unmanned.

The existing crew can wave their handkerchiefs as the train horsecar speeds by the caravan, set to crash into a canyon wall — or lend a hand to evacuate our TDMers, more Sa-Hareth refugees, and... our good friend Haltham and two of his creatures. Also, opium.

TDMers can meanwhile (haphazardly) board off or try to take control of the mechanical horses.

Write your starters as you will, or plan out the fate of the train horsecar HERE.

FRIENDS & FAMILY PROGRAMME

Following their unlikely survival, newcomers can join the existing party as part of smuggler merchant Mazyar's prosperous caravan. They will receive food, decent clothes and a donkey, horse or elk mount — a rare upside from the ongoing blood rain weather forecast, and the tar-drenched harpies that throw down aged bone.

They will also notice that Mazyar's caravan has been escorted by a ghost army led by the Lord Arha. He travels to free his lover, the oracle Hatisse from her alleged imprisonment by the witches of Taravast. All characters will experience a blood-curdling dread whenever they think to tell Arha or his men that they are dead — but speaking the words is now possible. Report HERE, if you'd like to break the bad news.

As the caravan stops for a few days, the existing party and newcomers can make merry, recover or raid the open haunted temple — where they may find several untouched stone tombs, including one engraved with a sculpture of Lord Arha. It will prove highly difficult to remove that lid without a group effort... but for that, or any other tomb questions, GO HERE.

NOTES

FRESH MEAT GONNA EAT

TDM events count as game canon, if you app in.

You can do network-style posts & log starters. Invent a username for communicators — but you're stuck with it after!

You can use the two allied NPC undead during the train horsecar disaster portion. Deploy them as you see fit to keep your character alive. The undead come with higher strength, speed, hunting instincts and a... disturbingly cold presence.

Haltham can make last-stand miracles happen for you, but at a heavy price. Inquire here.

OLD TIMERS, THINE WRINKLES SWEET

Existing characters won't be able to tell whether the newcomers or each other are living, dead, memories or ghosts, as a result of the (temporary) temple magic.

...yes, any leftover opiates are up for grabs. Hooligans.

You're welcome to respond to network posts from TDMers — but please keep your network posts in eastbound, think of Ye Olde AC.

Comments

[inferus]

[ those words ring through him igniting what remains of his own anger that has been carefully placed inside of him in favor of the coldness he greeted her with when he came to collect her soul that she signed away. his ordinary cool demeanor shifts for a moment as a light rumble surrounds them, signaling his anger. she hasn't even met him. she has no idea what she is walking into with pride, and yet every offer from wrath's side was immediately turned down despite all they shared. he swallows his feelings.

when he speaks, it is slow and pointed: ]

I am aware.

[ he breathes in through it. the point of the knife is still pressed against his skin with her hand there, gripping the handle of it. he moves in closer to her heedless of the weapon she has aimed at him, forcing the pointed end of the blade into his skin a little - blood slips up in the aftermath. ]

So do it then, witch.

[ it would hurt less. the wound doesn't heal. ]

[valeas]

[ her breath stutters as she watches the dagger finally pierce his skin, blood trickling down the smoothness of the serpentine blade. the sight of blood is not what alarms her, having grown more used to it than she'd like. no, it's that the wound is taking its sweet time to close, if it will fully close at all.

emilia lowers the dagger with an abruptness that reveals her.

there's plenty she wouldn't put past wrath, but feigning vulnerability isn't one of them. he'd rather toss himself into the lake of fire. which means this is no scheme, at least not one that he's designed. she swallows hard, gaze finally lifting back to his face. she ignores the loud pounding of her heart. ]

If not in hell, where are we?

[ and why can't they just transvenio back? ]

[inferus]

[ wrath watches the abruptness with which she drops her hand down, and he understands (and doesn't understand at the same time). her reaction to what envy did to him. it was real, and still he wound up finding her having made a deal with pride, still he found herself ready to sign her soul away from the brother she had never met.

distantly, he is aware of the blood trickling down his skin - it isn't healing. this is worse than somehow being taken away mid transvenio (something that was impossible enough on its own, but it appears his powers have taken a hit as well). if they are too far from the underworld to reach it, it might explain some of it, but-

he hears the pounding of her heart, and the anger is washed out of him, especially as she looks back up at him with that expression on her face, looking to him for answers he doesn't have (instead of answers he has but won't reveal for once). ]

I do not know. I don't recognize it.

[ and he has been all over the world. ]

This has never happened before.

[valeas]

[ emilia may roast the mighty demon of war whenever and wherever she has the opportunity to do so, but she's always been clear on the lethality of his powers. their extent. if he suddenly finds himself limited, it means something of great magnitude has interfered. but she is not ready to admit defeat.

she lifts up her free hand to him in offer. will you come with me?, he'd asked, as if there was any other choice she'd make. ]

Try again.

[ yes, she remembers the searing pain that made it feel like her entire body was burning.

yes, she's dead serious. ]

[inferus]

[ wrath stares at her with her outstretched hand, with how readily she is willing to not believe him and throw herself back into pain all for the sake of the goal of marrying his brother. he can tell he is no longer remotely able to connect to the plane of the underworld at all. attempting again would do nothing but cause her unnecessary pain, and he already hated knowing how much pain she was in the first time around.

his expression grows firm, utter refusal. his hands remain at his side. he straightens once more, and the word that leaves him is somehow so quiet but still manages to be resounding in its gravity: ]

No.

[valeas]

[ emilia's hand lowers back to her side, joining the one that still clutches his dagger. she is no longer pointing it at him, the dagger, but her grip on it has not loosened. does not loosen as she takes a step forward, chin raised with all her wounded defiance. he is dangerous, yes. so is she.

her own voice lowers, strands of her hair lifting as though a short and forceful wind swept through. ]

I was not asking.

[ she is his queen. ]

[inferus]

[ wrath does not move as she takes her step forward, and he reaches out, wrapping his hand around her own, lifting the dagger up against his chest this time, leaning in so close there is a mere breath between them. his heart pounds heavy, his breathing ragged.

his dark eyes remain on her own, aware of her power, aware of her anger and hurt. it falls off of her in waves that rush into him and mingle with his own hurt and betrayal. ]

Bury my dagger into my heart for my insolence if you so wish.

[ she is not married to pride yet, and even if she does, he does not let pride himself speak to him like this. ]

I will not be ordered - not by you nor your husband to be. And I will not have you burn again for no reason other than how stubborn you are.

[ of course, before anything more can be said, before their argument can escalate any further, they are (thankfully) interrupted. ]

[valeas]

[ she is mature enough not to resent wrath for having the last word — for now. but she will not forget his refusal, nor that he expects her to take him at his word after catching him in a lie. after he was wrong about the involvement of his brothers. she does not and will never trust him again.

her eyes are narrowed, lips trembling with barely contained fury. she should do it. just drive this right into his heart. one less of the malvagi to contend with, the one she's deemed most treacherous of all. wrath's all but issued the challenge, and she must show that she is not bluffing.

but their cavalry is indeed approaching, the situation dire enough they risk interrupting what looks to be a tensely charged moment between two strong-willed individuals. emilia breathes as hard as wrath does, very little space between them. only the dagger should fit in what space is left.

she looks to the side and starts at what she sees. their rescuers are undead, not unlike the creatures they fought down in the mines. their disposition, however, is entirely different. one might almost say civilized. a quartz stone is placed in each of their hands, and —

it's this that pulls emilia's attention away from her wildly murderous thoughts. ]

There is magic in it. [ she feels it like a hum. this quartz piece has been spelled. ]

[inferus]

[ wrath is still breathing raggedly when they are interrupted - the look in her eyes, the feeling radiating off of him, and he now doubts she was ever upset at all that he was disembowled. she would drive that dagger in his heart in this moment if only to prove how much she hates him, as revenge for the way she believes he has hurt her.

do it, and she will. he believes it wholeheartedly, and that is its own heartbreak. that is its own pain. he remains so remarkably still, awaiting his fate. maybe she will remain here. she will certainly be safer than with pride.

he pulls back only after she does, turning to the creatures arriving, watching them warily, ready to attack again. except these creatures appear to be different than the ones they met below.

already he feels the magic radiating off of the quartz in his hand as she does. he nods in quiet agreement, sliding a hand over it. the magic radiating off of it is strange, unlike anything he has felt before. ]

... a means of communication?

[valeas]

Communicate with whom?

[ she sets aside their volatile argument in favor of answers. much as she is loathe to admit it at the moment, they work well together, and she still believes in working with the enemy she knows over the enemy she doesn't. she can place her anger aside until they figure this out.

there are others, or so they're being told. others who've been similarly displaced.

the undead can take emilia and wrath to haltham; he'll have more answers and point them toward a way home. it would be foolish to believe this without question, but so too would it be foolish not to hear this haltham out to make up her mind. she'll follow. ]

[inferus]

[ wrath straightens as they are given answers, which only lead to more questions. he does not like knowing so little about this world, about what happened to them, about the magic within his hand. she did not plunge the dagger in for now, and so he glances at emilia briefly, understanding their quarrels have been set aside for the moment.

so they can have a shaky alliance for the time being. she may not trust him (may never trust him again), but at least she can trust his goals do not go against her own here.

they need to find out what information they can. they need to be prepared for potential threats, and they need to do so together.

emilia follows, and then a moment later, wrath follows after her in turn, schooling his expression into something neutral. the rest of his body coiled and ready to attack should they need it. ]

[valeas]

[ turns out they will not need it.

at least, not with haltham. a cold and rational man, he lays out their situation with succinctness that wrath likely appreciates. they are not in any position to deride him for it, besides: he brokers their getaway and is the only reason they find themselves on a wagon headed east.

after escaping sentinel searches and a rowdy pack of thieves, that is.

she is bone-tired, though she isn't yet ready to submit to it. emilia's seated in the corner of one of the seven wagons, a wool blanket covering her frame. night has fallen, and it's so cold. she is used to the brightly burning sun of palermo and the endless warmth it gives. quietly, to wrath: ]

The moon is full again. [ the fifth night in a row. she'd like to think that means the goddess of night is sending a message to a moon child, but she knows better. there's a strangeness to the stairs of sighs passageway that leaves her entirely disquieted. ]

[inferus]

[ wrath can sense how tired she is, how cold even wrapped up in the blanket as she is. he shifts from where he is seated. if he were to move closer, he could warm her by his presence alone, but they have not quite spoken since their argument with his dagger pressed to his chest - a moment from plunging in.

he could attempt to warm the area, but he has tried before, and it does not quite pierce the biting cold at present. it only dampens it somewhat. his gaze lifts to meet her own when she speaks so quietly, and then he lifts his gaze toward the window to watch the full moon.

it is unnatural for it to be full so long. it is unsettling even to him because he does not know what it means. if he doesn't know, he can't prepare for what is to come. ]

Five nights in a row. The blood rain will follow. [ it is dark, but he can smell it- the blood as it falls. ]

[valeas]

[ eerie full moons and blood rains are concerning, but it's the wailing emilia finds most unbearable. it speaks to an emotion that reaches beyond sadness, the sort of grief she's patently starved herself of in favor devouring the anger. it wasn't pride she summoned upon completing the bone circle.

it was wrath.

without meaning to or even noticing, emilia tugs on the roots of her hair as she watches the bloodlets start to fall. wrath can smell it — ]

What would happen if you were to ... taste it?

[ the things that come out of her mouth now, bless the stars. ]

[inferus]

[ wrath grimaces at the question though he has considered it himself. any avenue to discover more information about this place. usually, he can taste a blood oath in blood - perhaps something magical if it were magical.

here all of the rules have been thrown out the window. there is no telling if he would be able to sense the same of the magic in the sky, no telling if there are other demons around. his gaze flicks from her to the open window, watching the night, smelling the blood in the air, rolling his shoulders back. ]

I have no idea. If it were demonic or magical, I might be able to sense that.

[ but his abilities have shifted here, and magic is different here as well. he's not sure what use knowing if it were either would do them. in the end, he decided it wasn't worth the risk. ]

[valeas]

[ her eyes narrow.

it doesn't surprise her that he refuses to make this decision lightly, no. wrath is someone that values strategy, and prefers to consider every angle before taking action. he may not admit it to her, or say so out loud, but the fluctuation of his powers has thrown him. it's thrown emilia, too.

no, what almost clenches her jaw is the lack of urgency she detects in him. ]

Careful, demon. I'll start to think you've little intention in finding a way back.

[inferus]

[ his gaze flicks up toward emilia at the words, but his expression remains casual, almost bored despite the wealth of emotions twisting inside of his gut.

her jaw doesn't clench, but he can feel her immediate reaction- annoyance, anger. she is eager then to make it to his brother. no, wrath is not so eager. he has no desire to watch her be anywhere near his brother. let alone near him in the sense she might marry him. that his brother might attempt to take some ownership over her (he will).

the thought makes him sick. but he smiles at her instead of the sickness twisting inside of him, the ache opening up within his chest. the smile is something wicked like the demon he is. ]

And we wouldn't want that, witch. [ he looks through the nearest window at the blood dropping down. ] Do you truly think any answers lie in the rain of blood?

[valeas]

[ her eyes only narrow further at the sight of his smile. restraint is difficult for her these days, most especially when it has to do with her beloved sister. every second they are here is a precious second that robs her of her chance to find vittoria's murderer. she doesn't ignore wrath's question, though.

emilia's gaze follows his to the window. when the devil stirred the seas of palermo and turned the moon blood-red, the gulls would not touch the sardines that washed themselves onto the shore the next day. because they are no fools. her grandmother would tell her to be like a gull.

but she is desperate, and furious, and unwilling to accept they're stranded with no recourse.

she swallows and looks away once more. ] I don't know.

[inferus]

[ wrath turns back to her and lingers on her face as she sits there with her head turned toward the window. he breathes in sharp, and he feels it in his chest- the tightness, the sharpness. he swallows thickly, lowering his head briefly. his hand rests against the outside of the window. ]

If I thought it would tell us anything of worth, I would.

[ he does not want to return, but he does not want to remain unknowing in this world, to be uncertain of what exists around them, to be unprepared. he pulls away from the window to look at her.

his expression is one of quiet concern, and he sinks down against the wall then, turned away from the window. ]

We will learn more where we are going. [ but they need to be rested to be at their best ]

[valeas]

[ emilia hears the underlying sentiment behind his words.

she finds she cannot disagree with them. wasn't she the one who once shooed away the almighty general of war so that she could get some much needed sleep? she wants to be alert. she wants to be at her sharpest and at her best. she can't do that if she keeps fighting the inevitable.

even if staying up to continue sniping at him is highly tempting.

she lowers herself down to her blankets and bundles herself up in them with a shivering sigh. it won't be long before she falls into a deep slumber, exhausted that she is after the past several days. unfortunately, she can't quite control the way she mindlessly seeks body heat after the fact.

just. ignore the way she scoots a bit closer, per favore. ]

[inferus]

[ wrath watches as she lowers herself down, seeing the way she shivers as she bundles herself up. with effort, he lifts his gaze from her out to the window as if he will simply guard it, keep her safe from whatever might threaten them, but she scoots closer to him. in her sleep.

and so does he, close enough that she will be pressed slightly against him. he radiates heat, and he wants her to be warm.

he doesn't need sleep like she does. many things within the world has changed, but that is not one of them, and he glances over at her as she shivers, being certain to increase the heat radiating from him until she can feel it too.

he is not prepared for the dreams that will follow, the nightmares that come next. ]

[valeas]

[ the dream(?) starts with a feeling.

it takes hold of her chest, sudden and sharp. sticks to the walls of it, her chest, as her lips part to seize an unsteady breath. emilia fitfully rolls over to her side, pressing closer to wrath without intention or notice, and her fingers catch in the fabric of his shirt. it's all heavy, all endless, the mark of a desolate thing.

and it hurts.

a steady drip, somewhere in the distance, like static in her ears. ]

[inferus]

[ wrath does not sleep, and he senses the change in her immediately- her breathing alters, her pulse does too, and then she rolls over to his side and grips hold of him. if she were awake, she would not. he is aware of this, but more than that, he reaches out, thinking he might be able to reassure her in sleep. he does not yet realize she is feeling actual pain or he would wrench her from her sleep in an instant.

his hand tightens at her arm. there are so many things she could have nightmares about, so much that could be haunting her. ]

...Emilia?

[ his voice is soft at first like he may be able to reach her through the nightmare. ]

[valeas]

[ the dream shifts with a suddenness that would dizzy her if she were standing. flames lick higher around her, suffocating and all-consuming. she will die, is dying, in the very way she's feared all of her life. there is no pyre, but she burns. screams peel from her throat and no one can hear, can do anything. and somewhere in the distance is a song, is a memory, is antonio. antonio and his certainty that this is what she deserves and this is where she belongs.

all witches are born evil.

she can't break free of this dream right away, despite some lucidness returning to her. she chokes at the attempt to scream outside of this mental prison, but a hand tightening at her arm, her arm with a tattoo that also tries jarring her awake, finally does the trick.

emilia's eyes peel open, stunned to find herself so still and quiet otherwise. her skin intact, her lungs unharmed — only the wetness of her cheeks evidence of a greater turmoil, and her clenched fist at wrath's chest as she struggles in vain to safely draw in breath. ]

[inferus]

[ his expression has shifted into one of concern as it seems he is unable to wake her from the dream even when he says her name, even when he tightens his hold on her. it reminds him too much of the time following lust when he couldn't reach her at all then either even holding her hand. she couldn't feel it. he couldn't reach it.

a spike of anxiety in his chest until she finally does wake up. and distantly he is aware the rest of the train is filled with the same- anguish, fear, torment. is everyone having nightmares at once?

his mouth parts. there is the briefest brush of his thumb against the wetness on her cheek to wipe it away before she can even realize what is happening. his hand tightens on her arm over the tattoo as if in reassurance- that is what he attempts to send through even as he struggles to grip hold of the icy exterior once more. he can't in this moment when her expression is in such pain, such horror, when there are tears in her eyes. ]

...are you okay?