player plot: the horror of sarrux's pass

[aberratic]

WHO: Caius, Gwen, Hermione, Jayce, Ness, Siorus, Stephen, Vanya (sumptus, elegiaque, reparo, pathlit, aberratic, wildered, portalling, wearyallalone)
WHAT: The Horrors Cometh
WHEN: Beginning of Harvestmere (October)
WHERE: Sarrux's Pass, outside Wycome
NOTES: OOC post here. TWs for body horror, NPC death, ghost town/apocalypse vibes, children in upsetting situations, and general horror stuff.

Characters

CAIUS

GWENAËLLE

HERMIONE

JAYCE

NESS

SIORUS

STEPHEN

VANYA

The residents of Sarrux's Pass, a small village tucked into the mountains of the Free Marches, have long held that their settlement used to be a bustling trade city where dwarves were as plentiful as humans and they had constant contact between the surface and the Deep Roads. These were assumed by the surrounding cities to be nothing more than fanciful legends for decades, but any long-time resident swore it was the truth, lost to time and "monsters in the deep."

Residents were finally vindicated a few months ago when an earthquake caused a landslide in the surrounding mountains, revealing a long-lost outlet from the Deep Roads. At first, residents of the pass were apprehensive, all too aware of the dangers posed by such an opening, but the longer they went without Darkspawn spilling from the entrance, the more eager they became to investigate.

Eventually, the bravest among them began to enter the Roads, in search of ore and artifacts. They were vindicated again, finding both, and Sarrux's Pass quickly became a magnet for treasure hunters, Lords of Fortune, historians, archaeologists, and anyone in search of a quick buck. Even in the face of the Venatori invasion of the Marches, the promise of fame and riches drew handfuls of people seeking their fortunes to the Pass. News from the area was steady, and filled with discoveries and success stories—as well as the brawls, backstabbing, and even the occasional murder that comes with any good gold rush town.

It's been a few months since the reveal of the Deep Roads entrance. News from Sarrux's Pass has slowed to a trickle, then a drip, and now, in the past weeks, nothing. The last message to make it out of the village three weeks ago said simply: "We weren't just right about the dwarves." The parchment was stained with an unidentifiable liquid—not water, not blood—which smelled of the sea.

Riftwatch has been tasked with investigating the village, with three goals: find out what happened to the residents, recover whatever valuables they can from the Deep Roads, and, if necessary, close the entrance again. There may be Venatori in the area, or Darkspawn, or territorial prospectors—without contact with the village, there's no way of knowing what Riftwatch may discover. © tessisamess

Comments

[wearyallalone]

The smile fades. "I don't know," is as honest as he can be. "I have thought about it and I can't say I have landed on anything conclusive. I know that is not a very satisfying answer; it is not satisfying to me, either."

Presumably it's not his final answer, regardless. There are factors he know might make some difference, but there's always the core of it: the approach he thinks best aligns with certain mages more than any templars he's encountered, but he's skeptical those mages would want the help he can offer. On the other hand, walking away feels disingenuous.

"I will keep you updated, if you like," he adds, quieter.

[elegiaque]

“Do,” she says, firmly; it isn't hard (for her) to follow the train of his thought down the paths it's probably traveling, and one of these days she has arguments prepared for what she thinks is the best thing—

which will not surprise him at all. (The fact of it at all; probably, too, the arguments she might make.)

“And,” allowing back in the lightness that she'd curdled, “you'll always have somewhere you belong so long as we're friends. You know that, don't you?”

[wearyallalone]

He gracefully takes the hand up from the conversational dip they'd taken. Maybe they will talk about it, someday, but not today.

Instead, he says, "I don't know if I'd have thought of it in so many words but ... I do appreciate that. You know, I think the people I've valued most in my life have generally been the ones who don't hesitate to tell me when they think I'm being foolish, so you were well-positioned."

He bumps her shoulder lightly with his arm, a mirror of her earlier move. "Although if I stay with you, Thevenet will have an easy ongoing way to find out exactly where I am, so I'd best take care." He's not entirely sure how much joking about her grandfather is on the table, but since this is mostly at his own expense, he's willing to risk it.

[elegiaque]

At this, Vanya is entirely spared any further emotionally meaningful developments in the conversation because Gwenaëlle flings her face into his shoulder and gives a prolonged, dramatic groan:

“Why does my grandfather even have a harlot, don't answer that—”

hello i have been invited to the party

[aberratic]

It is at this moment that Ness wanders up, presumably to say goodnight, see you in the morning, et cetera, and the first thing out of her mouth is not thought through at all:

"Your grandfather has a—what? Is that polite?"

[wearyallalone]

"It's not." A beat. "But it would probably make the woman in question laugh, given the context." An educated guess, but a smile tugs the corner of his mouth. (Is this the most relaxed Ness has ever seen Vanya? Very likely.)

[elegiaque]

“His strumpet,” Gwenaëlle says, darkly, rolling sideways to look up at Ness as she joins them. “My cousin writes her, too, it's fucking awful.”

[aberratic]

Well, clearly she needs to be seated for this. Ness folds her legs beneath herself, sitting near enough to talk without touching either Vanya or Gwenaëlle, respecting both their space. It's nice to see what seems a real smile on Vanya's lips; she smiles back.

"It certainly sounds awful," for Gwenaëlle, at least, "I'm very sorry for your pain, Captain. What hideous sin has this strumpet committed lately?"

[wearyallalone]

It doesn't seem especially politic for Vanya to answer, under the circumstances, so he leaves it for Gwenaëlle. Though for context, he adds, "Speaker Thevenet and I knew one another before Riftwatch, back in Nevarra." To Gwenaëlle: "In you cousin's defense, she can be an insistent correspondent when she chooses to be."

[elegiaque]

Gwenaëlle has, instantly, about as much respect for Ness's space as she had a moment ago for Vanya's, which is to say: markedly less. She flings herself sideways so she is laying with her head in Ness's lap, pouting, which is — mostly a put on. Mostly, it is nice to have stupid complaints as well, among all the terribly serious ones: it is nice sometimes to just be annoyed that her grandfather has a sloe-eyed vampy mistress who gives advice to her cousin and keeps tabs on them all, because it's weird and annoying.

It feels a bit indulgent to find that weird and annoying. She will never, ever admit to sort of enjoying it.

“Being an insistent correspondent,” she says, “hideously.” This could refer to her cousin, or the fact that Thevenet recently made use of Stephen for a delivery boy.

[aberratic]

There's no big startle or yelp to suggest that this is the first time Ness has ever had anyone's head in her lap. She leans away from Gwen just slightly, eyes wide, then very deliberately relaxes into the contact. Of course she's had handsy friends before, who hasn't? This is very normal and something Ness personally has experienced too many times to count.

Slowly, but not too slowly, she lowers her hand to pet Gwenaëlle's head.

"There, there," is usually what people say in these circumstances, yes? "Strumpets rarely stay in one, ah... arrangement too long, so I hear. You might be free of her sooner than later."

[wearyallalone]

Vanya's poker face is very good; it's likely Ness won't clock that he's hiding a reaction. Gwenaëlle knows him better, but if her head stays turned away, she could easily miss it too.

"Speaker Thevenet keeps herself very busy with a variety of projects," is what he settles on to say. It's true, even.