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TDM: MARCH
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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. |
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[He tries to explain, because it does sound pretty crazy when he really thinks about it.]
Then, when I awoke, I felt as though I were drifting again. During meditation, something happened and I woke once more in a new place entirely, a world I have never seen. I believe the dreams are all part of this world, a way of preparing us for our arrival there.
[That's just assumption on his part, but he's trying.]
Is a mage like a witch? They have many witches in this world too.
[He definitely says that like he doesn't really know with certainty what a witch is, let alone a mage.]
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He wonders if that will be the case. What this new world would be like - terrible, or beautiful, or both. ]
That's... an interesting idea.
[ Reynir resolves to ask Lalli about this idea of dreams leading to other worlds, once he is back in the regular dreamspace. For now, however, he is just going to go with the flow. ]
Possibly? I guess it depends on what they mean by witch? A mage, where I come from, is someone who can do magic, because they've been chosen by their gods. It's sort of passed down in families. Actually, most mages are women in my country, I'm just um. An outlier, I suppose.
[ Then, realizing he'd forgotten all his manners in his eagerness to figure out this place, he adds: ]
I'm Reynir Árnason, by the way. From Iceland.
[ Surely, this stranger will have heard of Iceland, right? Who hasn't! ]
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Mm, right now that is only an idea. But it is strange that I find myself in another dream meeting people that are from worlds I have not heard of.
[Iceland, for instance. That doesn't sound familiar to him.]
Where I am from, we would be called cultivators. We believe both men and women have the ability to nurture strong spiritual energy within themselves, so it would not be strange to meet a man who can use magic there. Although, I'm not familiar with this world's gods.
[He turns to face Reynir, bringing his arms up in a circle and bowing his head within it.]
My name is Lan Xichen of the Lan Sect in Gusu. You may call me Zewu-jun. Most of those I have met here seem to prefer it. If you do come to the world that crafted this dream, do you have a title you use? I do not wish to be disrespectful.
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Cultivators, hmm? That sounds kinda cool.
[ Then, when Lan Xichen bows, for a moment Reynir is confused, never having seen the gesture. With a start he realizes maybe he's being rude not mirroring it back? Maybe it's like waving and for him to not do it back is impolite. ]
Oh! Um...
[ He quickly attempts an imitation of the bow, which is sloppy but clearly earnest and well intentioned. He is smiling when he lifts his head again. ]
Gusu? I haven't heard of it. But I haven't heard of a lot of places. Zewu-jun. It's nice to meet you!
[ What Reynir lacks in formality he seems to make up for in genuine friendliness. Though a little furrow forms between his brows when Lan Xichen asks about titles, and he tilts his head to the side. ]
Title? How do you mean?
[ Icelandic naming conventions being what they are, the idea of being addressed by anything other than his first name is pretty strange to Reynir, so he answers the best he can: ]
Um, just 'Reynir' is fine!
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Not many in this place have. I have also not heard of Iceland, but I believe there are many lands that we are brought from. The others I have met were also from lands I had never heard of and contained wonders I thought were quite rare. Perhaps this is a meeting of fate.
[He chuckles when Reynir, like others, tells him that "just" Reynir is fine. That seems to be a regular response he's going to get when he meets new people.]
Mm, where I am from, we are known by our place as well as our courtesy names. As the leader of my sect, I inherited that title so that others of similar position may address me in formal meetings. I was curious if mages had honored names that they used to mark their work and rank.
[There is just a hint of amusement in his eyes as he says decidedly:]
But I suppose Young Master Reynir will serve well enough.
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[ Reynir grins at the thought; he is more ready than most to believe in fate, that meetings in dreams can happen for a purpose that isn't clear to him yet. Perhaps the reason for all this - because for all he knows, the gods arranged this, set it in motion - will become clear in an hour or a day or a week. For now, he's just enjoying making a new friend.
Lan Xichen might laugh when he says to just call him 'Reynir', but it's not a mocking laugh directed at him. He has been nothing but friendly, and what's more, respectful. Maybe that is why, when Lan Xichen explains he'd been curious about titles that have to do with accomplishments, Reynir reacts in the way he does.
Because all of this? Is pretty unfamiliar to him. People don't treat him badly, for the most part, but Reynir isn't really used to anyone defaulting to this level of respect. When people underestimate him, make assumptions about him, he wants to prove them wrong, show that he's more than the boxes they put him in. Peasant. Not immune. Not trained and not worth training.
But when Lan Xichen asks if mages (and by extension, Reynir) have honored names around their rank or achievements, his face flushes a bright pink and he looks away, suddenly self-conscious. Rubbing the back of his neck, Reynir says: ]
Oh! That's what you meant. Well, mostly no, though there are some mages with specific jobs that get known by titles. Like, in Finland, there's these sentinels... but for the most part it's - and besides I'm - I only realized I was a mage a few months ago. I'm not the leader of anything or that. I haven't accomplished, I mean, it's- I'm not important.
[ He wants to be. So badly he can't stand it sometimes. But Reynir knows that all of that is a ways off for him, still. And the path from where he is now to that future is foggy and uncertain and dangerous. ]
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Please, don't pay it too much attention. Often those titles are taken later in life as well. They come when you are ready to decide what sort of person you wish to be.
[He raises his hand with a gentle, calming gesture.]
Since you are still studying, there is no rush to decide that too quickly. But I do not wish for you to see beginning as a lack of merit. We must all begin to advance. I am just learning the magic here as well, so we are both new students in this world.
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There is gratitude and embarrassment and happiness all mixed up in the smile that makes its way onto his face. Reynir gives a little nod, showing he understands. He doesn't really trust his voice yet, or know what he ought to say. But the words go deep, and he can tell he won't be forgetting them any time soon.
...when you are ready to decide what sort of person you wish to be...
...don't see beginning as a lack of merit...
...we must all begin to advance... ]
I guess we are.
[ Then, because it feels wrong not to say something to express how grateful he is for the kind words, Reynir blurts: ]
Thank you. For - saying all that.