![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
TDM: MARCH
- Welcome to
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
aefenglom's test drive! All threads can be considered game canon, should you choose to do so; regardless of if you pick specific threads to remain canon to the game, the prompts and test drive itself will be. This will be touched on later in-game, so it's fairly important to note! Aside from that, here are some quick reminders:• Reserves Open Today! If you're interested in securing a character, put one in! This time around, reserves will expire after the first 48 hours of applications being opened. Those first 48 hours will be open to those who have reserves only, so we recommend placing one. It will not guarantee you a spot, but it will guarantee you can post your app immediately when they open.With that taken care of...
• Applications Open The 24th! There will be a cap of 30 applications accepted this round, and apps will close whenever we've reached that cap. If there are slots left after the reserves-only period, apps will open to those without reserves. The application page can be found here.
• If you have any questions about the game or the world, please refer to the FAQ page; if you still have questions, feel free to ask them! For questions specific to the test drive, please ask them on the appropriate thread.
• For the purposes of the test drive, your character will have access to all magics taught by the Coven if they're a Witch, and as much of their shifted form as you'd like if they're a Monster. Feel free to play around and experiment with each!
• Test drive threads can be used as samples for your applications!
You feel like you're floating. Around you, colors and sounds and smells swirl as if trapped in a whirlpool, vibrancy and hue ever shifting. The more you watch them, the less solid they are; they only become clear out of the corner of your eye. The area around you begins to feel more solid as well, until your feet are on the ground, the wind brushes playfully against your face -
and you know one thing, and one thing alone: this is a dream, and an incredibly realistic one at that.
The Underground
Take a moment. Let your eyes adjust to the dark, your ears to echoing silence, but for the steady drip of condensation down the stone walls that surround you. The tunnels down here are wide, the ceilings high, but they are dim, devoid of sunlight and breeze. The only light, in fact, comes from the shards of softly-glowing shards of quartz lining the ground and the bio-luminescent algae that smears the stone in long, blue veins, pulsing gently, pushing breathable air into the otherwise-stale passageways. The air is damp, but the temperature is moderate - almost comfortable. The tunnels fork off and meander from where you are, some narrowing and some widening, but none seem to lead you to the surface, no matter how long you wander. Is it a trick of the light, that the algae glows a little brighter, pulses a little quicker, when you head in a particular direction? It's hard to sort your senses so deep underground, far from the world above where things make sense. Hopefully you've found a friend by now.
 The Crystal Cavern Many of the tunnels, both wide and narrow, lead to the same place: a massive chamber hewn out of the stone by time, and the drip-drip of water from the ceiling into the central lake. Perhaps you came out toward the bottom, and the ceiling is a thousand feet above you, or maybe you came out toward the top, and the lake is a thousand feet below. There are a hundred or more holes in the sloping stone walls that lead to more tunnels, and something like natural steps down from most of them. In a way, it resembles a beehive, this room acting as a central hub of sorts. This is also the first place you find signs of life. Short, tough little tufts of grass growing from the thin soil, bone white in color, having long abandoned photosynthesis and chlorophyll. More of the glowing algae. Small, skittering insects - beetles, grubs and worms. The occasional albino rat, much larger and louder than rats have any right to be. Ruffled and capped fungi growing on the wet rock like parasites, some as large as a grown man. Blind, slimy cave fish wriggling around in the still waters of the lake. And milling around the great stone cavern, slurping up the glowing algae that covers the rocks and grows in lacy sheets across the water, are dozens of great beasts, bigger than horses. Shaped like worms, but with dozens and dozens of stubby, fleshy legs, these creatures are huge, with velvety, multi-colored hides, and though their antennae wave in curiosity when approached, they don't seem aggressive. At least, as long as you avoid the big silk-wrapped bundles stuck to the walls and ground all over the cavern. These are their egg sacs, and if their young are threatened, they'll quickly shoot jets of viscous slime, a quick drying adhesive, that can slow and trap even the strongest adult. If you find yourself in a sticky situation, you better hope someone can wrench you loose - the worms seem content to eat algae, until they've caught prey. Each worm has a long, hooked, chitinous blade concealed within its fleshy jaws to tear and shred, and a nightmarish round mouth full of multiple rows of teeth. Navigate carefully. There at the bottom of the lake, where it feeds into an underground stream that leads down another wide tunnel, there are a few small rowboats, some missing oars, certainly not enough for everyone. You'll have to share if you want to get out of here. Or you can keep hanging out with the giant wormipedes. |
 The Procession As you proceed down the stream by boat, the lighting grows just a little brighter, seeming a little more purposeful in how the glowing algae is planted, how the softly glowing crystals are placed. You start seeing a new type of moss, greyish-green and growing in ragged sheets from the ceiling of the tunnel. Watch your head - it's near impossible to cut through this stuff should you get tangled. For a while, you only hear the soft splashing of the gentle stream, but then... there is a flash of torch light, up ahead. The boat ahead is longer than the one you use, better kept, and full of people - three Monsters, all whose forms are based on creatures that thrive underground, in pieces of armor, holding spears, and one very elderly Witch woman, seated in the middle, wrinkled hands folded primly in her lap. Her milky gaze stares straight ahead, with something soft and proud in the set of her face. One of the Monsters holds the torch, the other rows the boat, and the third settles down next to her; they speak in hushed voices, with little smiles. After a while, the rowing Monster slows the boat, before they can bump into a thick, heavy, impenetrable curtain of grayish-green moss that stretches across the whole tunnel, blocking the way, like a gate. The other two help the woman to her feet, and guide her toward the front of the boat - and the curtain of moss. She reaches out for it blindly, and they help her step onto the edge. There is something almost ritual or reverent about the movements, the way they regard the Witch as she touches the curtain of moss... and is wrapped into it quickly, swallowed up, absorbed. After twenty minutes of gentle pulsing, the lump that used to be the Witch is no more, and the whole of the moss pulses with light and magic. The Monsters watch this whole process vigilantly, and once the lights die down, they continue on. The moss parts to allow the boat through, brushing against the Monsters but not swallowing them. The procession happens a few more times, in separate boats, with separate victims - but all are very, very elderly, and seem proud, even happy to meet their fates. Trying to follow them further after the ritual will have the same thing happen for your boat - the moss will part, and brush over those in the boat without causing harm. If you happen to be infected with the Cwyld, however... you might meet the same fate as the old woman, with the moss reaching and grabbing for you. The procession can be stopped, but drawing attention will draw the ire of the Monster guards, and, strangely, the victims themselves, who will fly into a distressed rage at the interruption. |
 The Marketplace Beyond the veil of moss lies... civilization? The cavern is enormous, big enough to contain a city at least as big as Aefenglom, if not larger, though the population at a glance seems to be much smaller. Twenty thousand people, perhaps, give or take. Buildings have been carved out of huge stone spires, or formed by draping cloth around and between the natural stalactites and stalagmites. Monsters tend to be quite tall or bulky, possessing obvious physical strength, while Witches and humans tend to be shorter than in Aefenglom. They all mingle on the streets together, with no immediately obvious class difference. Since there is no weather to dress for, some don't bother to dress at all, though humans at least tend to wear flowy silks or simple clothes made from wormipede hides. The streets are wide and the buildings far-spaced, and many get around on the backs of those worm creatures, having made them saddles and reins. The stream ends in a lake right next to a marketplace, with many small boats docked on its pebbled shores. The stalls sell all kinds of goods: clothing made from fine silk and worm hide or rat fur, skewered meat (It's bug.), weapons, armor, jewelry made from chunks of beautiful stone. Your arrival is bound to cause a stir though, so keep your head down, and maybe it's time to snatch a disguise from one of the clothing stalls. Monster guards, occasionally flanked by Witches, patrol the streets and keep the peace, and stopping to talk to anyone will make one thing clear: they are not at all used to outsiders. They won't believe a word you say about being from above ground, and they've never heard of your world or Aefenglom. You're nomads from the tunnels, right? Of course, don't be ridiculous, you can't fool them with tall tales! At least they're usually willing to talk - briefly, of course, everyone is very busy down here, it's morning and many will be heading to tend to the herd soon. Those who are subtle and pointed in their questions can learn a lot about the vast but also small civilization below the surface of the world. Strength is valued here - the stronger the Monster or more powerful the Witch, the higher their rank in society, and the closer they live to the center, largest spires of stone. Monster-Witch Bonded pairs are the be-all-end-all, and often wear matching wrist-guards or pendants proudly. Pretending to be Bonded to another will put many of the natives at ease, though Monster-Monster pairs get snide comments about how you have to team up to find a good Witch, and Witch-Witch pairs will get odd looks and assume you both have a very strong Monster partner somewhere. It must be quite rare for Witches to go un-bonded here, and any who pass through without an obvious partner may be propositioned by young Monsters showing off their various talents. Unbonded Monsters may be nudged in the direction of any strange, unbonded Witches - usually fellow Mirrorbound - in a poor attempt at matchmaking. Those poor unbonded Witches need protection, right? Or so the locals think. It's too bad trying to go any farther than the Marketplace will get you stopped by guards and turned back, however. They don't allow nomads into the inner city. |
no subject
Glad you noticed the cloak, though, since I worked so hard getting it. Hoping it'll be a conversation starter, since even you've gotta' admit it's pretty funny. [ Like a long shirt. He lifts his chin, side-eye challenge met. ]
Either way, the answer's a big "nope". Why pay for moldy clothes with money I don't have? If you're hiding a fortune and really subtle good attitude behind those pointy ears, give me a shout.
[ YAP YAP YAP ]
no subject
he does take the time to reassess the cloak, deciding that it does look a bit ridiculous. nothing that strikes him between the ribs hard enough to force a laugh out of him, but there is a subtle change in his demeanour.)
Well. I'm not so benevolent. If they'd like to instigate something, you seem ready enough to take up arms. (on that note, there are questions to ask and names to exchange. he begins with the easier of his options.) Are you a Witch, then?
no subject
Appreciate the return assessment too. If I look like I don't wanna' be fucked with then I must be doing something right. [ His shoulders lift in a shrug, hiking up that cloak that much more as he alternates between a glance to his new traveling companion and the town proper. What's he gotten himself into this time... ]
Guess so, since I'm not sprouting fairy wings. Can't say I'm feeling all too Merlin-y, though. You? You've got the vibe down.
no subject
manages a wry smile in the wake of jake's boorish sense of humour.) It's not an imposition, is it? I'm well aware of my own intolerant nature, I merely wanted to bring your own to light. We are meant to bond, after all, as we to delve deeper into our shared dilemma. (perhaps eccentrically, voryn throws out an arm to embrace the dark beyond, great stalagmites forming their path for them.
they'll head to the river once more, even if its depths intimidate him. some areas seem to go down forever, their bottoms unseeable despite how clear the water. he'd rather remain firmly on land, but to look is no issue.)
As you suspect, I am a sorcerer... but the way you make your guesses is distasteful to me. I'm unfamiliar with the word "merlinee."
no subject
Yeah, since you brought it up, let's not. As much as I'm loving the debate, chatter, and fashion advice, let's practice our best "of course we bonded" lines and save the rest. You cool with that? I'm cool with it.
[ This guy... Seeing a cave full of oversized monstrous multi-legged worms had done nothing to convince Jake that he was in another dimension. Hell, it did nothing to convince him he'd left his country. But running into the other Mirrorbound? Hearing their stories? Performing magic on the boat ride over? Those had better prepared him for running into someone like Voryn. Someone golden. Someone who doesn't know who Merlin is. ]
Should've figured you'd miss out on the pop culture reference; we'll accept that as my bad. Merlin's a wizard where I'm from, or at least one in stories. They don't actually exist.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zU8oxcgkkis
(there's something freeing about having civil discussion with an unknown, a stranger. both unknown to one another, but beset by the same circumstances. he can't help the desire to indulge, curious.) The imagination can only stretch so far before we take cues from what's existed before. You walk with me, someone from another plane. Is it not possible that there was a leak in need of patching? And someone encountered magic and sorcery, then wrote about it in your stories?
(voryn finds this to be an enjoyable time away from the threat of war, the fate of his house and the chimer people balanced on the head of a pin. this is a reprieve, a sojourn from his duties, though he does long to be at lord nerevar's side. his council may be missed, as he's grown distrustful of their present company.
looks at jake, through with his teasing.)
Food for thought. Careful on this bank, now, don't want to slip in. I might never fish you out.
i hate you
Lotta' things I didn't see as significant possibilities have been testing my ability to disbelieve lately. Let's call this one the cherry on top of the sundae. Really makes me lose faith in the creativity of Earth writers if that's the case, though. Gotta' say I'm disappointed.
[ His cavalier tone is betrayed by the hand at his side, fingers tapping against his leg with a quiet unease. Wherever he is, whatever this is that he's apparently supposed to be doing, he's doing it without Sherry. Is he seriously supposed to believe he's dreaming? If he is, is she being forced to haul him around? As if on cue, his new partner invokes the same image. ]
Seriously? Come on, you look tough. Anyway, you got a name or what?
i know
voryn slides down the bank, gravel loose beneath his heels. it's much better here, on the shoreline. fewer people. none at all, in fact, leaving the two of them to their own devices. away from the prying eyes of those... cave people.)
I look tough because I am, but if you think I'd jump in after you then you're sorely mistaken. (a bluff, knowing he would, but that's half the fun of having new acquaintances. there's always that thrilling doubt. it livens things up in a way trust doesn't.) Still, with nothing to lose in a dream, we may as well exchange names. I'm Voryn Dagoth. Lord High Councillor to the King of Resdayn—that's the province in which I live.
Who are you?
no subject
[ Ready with a verbal counter like always, a clear motor mouth with a quick wit and quicker tongue. Eyebrows lift at the title he's hit with, boot kicking mindlessly at a bit of gravel before he consents to follow closer after him. ] Well, pardon me. Didn't realize I was speaking to a king's righthand man, but now I know better.
Pleased to meet you, Voryn. Jake Muller, peasant commoner for hire.
no subject
raises his chin despite their slight difference in height, scrutinizing him.)
A mercenary. (looks away, having obviously come to some conclusion as he continues to a ledge sitting just atop the water's surface.) I respect the profession. The services you offer as a self-made man are in high demand, where you come from?
no subject
But yeah, sure, I'm popular. Always will be in my neck of the woods, thanks to a growing need for men with guns to solve problems for guys without 'em.
How about you? "Lord High Councillor", how long did that take?
no subject
I'll assume you're referring to that weapon strapped to you?
(where it's strapped it's difficult to make out. the holster bars most of it from view and the cloak, such as it is, does do a fair enough job when the man has his arms by his sides. its position is what voryn decides makes it a weapon, well within reach of a hand and a necessary accessory for jake's foreign outfit.)
I've been in power many hundreds of years... though when exactly would take some consideration. In my position I have hired assassins like you, and always to solve problems I can't spare the attention for. Even now, Jake, if I had my gold exchanged for these people's currency, I'd offer to pay you for guard detail. Pity. (for both of them, as he'd feel far more comfortable with someone watching his back. voryn seems casual, but this is still a dream of someone's make. there's no harm in being overcautious when he bears the weighty trust of his lord and house.
turning to expose the palm of his hand with a softly spoken "malur," light growing above it. collected from sources beyond them, back at the marketplace. he guides it above their heads, lets it hang there so that it may illuminate their steps. cautious.)
Tell me. How did you come to sell yourself?