Open High March Sepia

[Ludmilla Orphys]

Blurred rays of sun over desolate heath, freshly irrigated into mudflats by merciless cloudburst. Not the most idyllic scenery.

All there was to see out here on the March were dreary skies and dark days, it seemed. For most of the world, the wheel had kept turning ever faster since the Starcalled returned upon the Day of Relog - whatever that meant to those in the know. Yet, somehow, even with the recently increased support from Astorean and Tertorian authorities as well as the Whistles and MIT, still the dusty villages of the High March found their pitiful existences stuck spinning in one place, sinking into quiet oblivion.

For each one founded with generous agricultural grants and farming crews led by bright-eyed would-be burgomeisters, three would be found as hollowed-out shells in various states of ruin, devastated beyond repair by catastrophe or worn to pieces by sickly and dwindling populations. Desertion was a common occurrence; fears regarding the echoes of lingering Dissonance ran high, and hope washed away easily with the grey rains that were so dismally abundant. Truly, only the mad, desperate and outcast continued to homestead in such a place. No matter how often the narratives of gradual regreening or establishing outreach infrastructure or toughing out just one more harvest were repeated, there was a limit. To what? Well...

Hi! Anyone there? Anyone in town? Anyone, anyone?

As she thought, the lights were on, but nobody was home.
Ludmilla stood all alone in the empty square of the eerily quiet town. Calling, calling.

Hellooooo?

Doors had been left open, stalls left untended, wagons slumped and left abandoned with reins unattached to nonexistent steeds. Sundries too littered the cobbles; farming equipment leaning against walls or fallen on the ground, basket and bucket dropped unceremoniously among puddles of spilled water, wasted produce. Trails of tramped-down mud paved the street, a veritable river of people having passed through this place leaving an incomprehensible jumble of footprints behind.

The faint stink of wet thatch and horse manure, along with clothes now ruined by rain, still hung in the air between the narrowly packed village buildings. This was not an immediately recent event, but had not been too long ago either, seeing as the rain had not yet washed away all evidence of the flooding exodus. There was a Whistle outpost on the way in and an Adventurers' Guild hall, but they had also irresponsibly abandoned their duties, by the looks of things.

How unimpressive.

This one wasn't even that far out; turning back, Ludmilla could still see the vague suggestion of a paved road leading back miles upon miles, past river and dale towards ruined Vintergard. It seemed everything west of that place struggled to be rid of a strange entropy, the gentle tug of erasure that worried at the ragged edges of Astorea's map like an insistent silverfish.

Yet another ghost town had been made, which was one thing - how suspicious and sudden such circumstances were, though, made for another thing entirely.

...besides, why was she here?

Hm.
Anyone heeeere? Hellooooo!

 

[Ash Vargold]

He didn't know if it was because of history, vibes, or the title stubbornly refusing to leave his status, but Ash had earned himself a reputation as the player to approach when issues arose in High Reach.

Maybe it was just because he kept saying yes.

"This is as far as I go. Good luck, ser Vargold..." Ash didn't believe in the concept of fear having a smell, but if it did, the quavering escort would reek of it. The town's sudden exodus painted its empty streets with alien malice, even though there was nothing there.

"Thank you. I'll send a message when I'm ready to leave. Also please don't call me that."

His heart stuttered once, twice, as the man hurried back to the safety of greener pastures. Ash took a breath, willing it to calm. He only had to be here for a little bit, enough to sniff out whether Dissonance or some spiritual malice was responsible for the state of the town. Then he could leave, and let more experienced people solve the problem.

"Well, lets get this over with."

The mud stuck unpleasantly to his boots as he searched for the Adventurer's guildhall. If there were any answers here, Ash hoped to find it amidst records and reports, rather than speculating over abandoned homes. He tested the doorknob, finding it unlocked-

"Anyone heeeere? Hellooooo!"

-and instead reached for his sword as a voice called from deeper into the town. It was... familiar? No, that wasn't exactly right. It was the emotions it tugged from the back of his mind that was familiar, flashes of rot and ruin, of steel and screams-

Ash didn't respond to the voice, but he did walk towards it. The whisper through his thoughts that said this is how a horror story starts was smothered by the confidence that he could fight his way out if it came to that.

He found that person standing in the center of town, a crier without an audience. She looked normal enough, but Ash knew better than to lower his guard. There was no spectral chill, no telltale flicker of the interface, but there was more to this world than dissonance and the dead.

"...you shouldn't be here. Are you a Traveler?"

He refused to walk any further than the borders of the square, ready to bolt at the slightest hint of aggression. Friend or foe? asked his rattling heart, and he waited impatiently for the faerin's answer...

@Ludmilla Orphys

 

[Ludmilla Orphys]

Enter @Ash Vargold! Bedraggled and skeptical but determined, here to find the root cause of all this funny business! Why, he's the very image of a supra-natural investigator, sword and ghost-whisperer and shiny heroic title and all; give it up for the man of the hour!

...and so the deafening absence of an audience returns its silent applause.
What he finds is what he gets.

The smell of burnt cooking and meals left to go cold and congeal before haphazardly vacated places at the table.
A smashed sign in splinters next to a toppled bucket of paint, the navy blue within washed into the street to make an inkwell of the spaces between each cobblestone tile.
Forms and files untended or half-finished, abandoned at the counter, had been toyed about by the wind and thrown around the guildhall interior, strewn against windowpanes, across the floor and wedged against the door that hung ajar as though even they too wished to vacate the premises.

More ominous signs of some cataclysmic conspiracy, bewitchment or otherwise. Tranquil domesticity, interrupted with no symptomatic traces of violence or struggle. It seemed the entire village had simply been spirited away by some all-encompassing Pied Piper, a second Hamelin reenacted. Best hope it's not an anglerfish indeed.

...

After having wandered about a little bit, finding nothing but more of the same unyielding quietude, Ludmilla stopped calling out and instead closed her eyes, focusing her senses.
There was something lurking here, something her basic senses and Investigation Mode alone couldn't detect. She had something beyond an inkling, something more concrete than instinct and inference; this was just like that other time-

He wasn't being stealthy; he had no reasonable need to do so. By the time he chose to come into view, she was already curiously craning her head that way, interrogating his presence. The wolf-man still had a foot and some change over Ludmilla, towering in comparison even though she was quite large for a Faerin; by all logical estimate, there should be no problem taking this unarmed girl down if she proved to be the source of this trouble.

Hi! I'm Ludmilla! Who are you?

But why was it that his hackles were already so raised? Was it just the unsettling atmosphere of this town that had faded so quickly that not even a name was left to be found, or was it the way she sidestepped his question without acknowledging the very reason it had been asked?

Ludmilla took a step forward, gesturing at the surroundings. Unlatched shutters clattered forlornly in the wind. A forming storm grumbled in the distance.

Mister not from here, yes? It's terrible! Everyone gone. Gone away where? So confused. Here to find someone. But obviously, not here anymore.

A gloved hand extended out, pointed to the deserted faction outposts. That was better than no explanation at all, and perhaps suggested something of comfort to the newcomer. Two heads were better than one, and many eyes shed more light. Something like that.

Here for something, too? Maybe Ludmilla can help.

A sunny smile. It didn't - couldn't - reach her eyes, wide like unblinking ocelli.

 

[Ash Vargold]

As the faerin woman stepped forward, Ash instinctively stepped back, eyes flickering with the telltale light of Investigation Mode.

Once upon a time he'd fought a monster that puppeteered corpses to lure the living. There were no signs of that here, but the fear of it remained. Especially here, standing alone. For all of this Ludmilla's friendliness and the apparent lack of aggressive intent or telltale flickering, there was still something wrong here.

"...I'm here on contract. I'm looking to see if supernatural activity was involved with the... events, here."

Wrong enough to choke Ash's habitual introduction before it left his lips. There was no evidence that a name provided power in Terrasphere (or at least, he'd never learned himself), but it was better safe than sorry.

Especially when it came to small, unblinking women standing in empty towns. That was classic fae bullshit.

His ears remained fixed in Ludmilla's direction as his eyes followed the path her finger traced. Then his attention snapped back to Ludmilla, as if expecting her to shift the moment he stopped looking.

"...who were you looking for? They with one of the factions?"

His face was neutral and his voice was flat, a facade worn over the growing intensity of his anxious heart. Yet his raised fur and stiffened tail betrayed the fear behind the mask.

@Ludmilla Orphys

 

[Ludmilla Orphys]

The overlaid UI made easy work of ascertaining the Faerin's complete lack of harmful intent, even as @Ash Vargold omitted his own title to match; he hadn't volunteered a name at all, really, just his mission at this moment. But lack of harmful intent didn't mean she was void of potential to harm, for now or while proceeding onward.

That was a smart move either way, a mark of experience. There existed no good reason at the moment to answer Ludmilla truthfully, especially under such circumstances. But a contractor? How interesting. News had somehow departed to the old road, then; perhaps some passing trader or returnee from out of town who had the fortune to be away until after the disappearance.

Huh? Events? Mister is here to find out? Find out what happened? Why everyone, everyone, gone?

Pacing a little on the spot with her neck on a swivel each time her body angled a little differently, Ludmilla's eyes follow to meet his gaze and keeps the wolf-man in her vision. If she could interpret how his body language reeked of distrust and caution, she made no mention of it. Certainly, she didn't seem pressed to respond in kind, still smiling quite serenely.

With a guild? Mmm...

Don't know!

Of such a key fact Ludmilla was confidently ignorant, shrugging and altering the trajectory of her steps, going from pacing to approaching. For all the creepy atmosphere that she had steeped her presence in, it was starting to seem like her reasons for being here were...pretty frivolous?

Looks snake-y. Black hair. Long! Red eyes. Red, so red. Very grumpy!

If the bewildered ghost-buster wasn't already turning tail, Ludmilla would be up close and peering around behind him to see where he'd popped out from, as if checking to see if there was anyone following behind.

Tried to kill Ludmilla, not nice.
But Ludmilla forgives. Just want to talk again.

 

[Ash Vargold]

The problem with turning tail was that it necessarily involved exposing the back said tail was attached to. And Ash could only back up so much before risking getting boxed in by the town's various structures.

Th-thmp. Thththump. Ash's hand unconsciously crept up from his swordhilt, fingers tapping against a hidden scar in time with his erratic pulse. Something to keep under control, now that he had the vaguest inkling of the nature of his curse.

(Though if his self-control failed here, it might be more boon than burden...)

"...can't say I've seen anyone of that description.

If so, then even if he had seen them, he wasn't sure he'd tell Ludmilla. No matter how benign she claimed her intentions to be.

"...but I don't think you're going to find her here. Or much of anyone."

There had been no supernatural signs when Ash first arrived: just the scent of a town gone to mildew. But as the erratic entity approached, he caught the faintest whiff of... something. Something familiar and almost aggressively living in a way normal creatures weren't.

"Probably best to move on. I've learned what I need to know - they'll send a better equipped team once I report."

Ash already had it in mind. No dead, no Dissonance - but someone or something that didn't smell right. Something that might have been the true culprit.

...he would have preferred if it had been haunted. At least he'd have backup...

@Ludmilla Orphys

 

[Ludmilla Orphys]

Aww. Well, maybe mister can come look with Ludmilla? Find angry snake lady. Find everyone missing. Find out why?

Seeing no further forthcoming visitors, both Ludmilla and @Ash Vargold were made well aware of their isolation once more, in such proximity to each other. At this distance, the two were capable of sizing each other up that much more accurately. Neither carried a ranged weapon and Ludmilla had nothing obviously weapon-like on her at all, implying unarmed or casting prowess.

If there was to be any conflict, it would be advantageous to address it at arm's length.

Hey, would be fun, no? Explore, play detectives! Fun!

Ludmilla then casually does the unthinkable. She reaches out to tug at the trailing hems of his uniform, impatiently urging him to follow, skipping ahead a few steps. There's insistent outsize strength to her grip.

There's a few things wrong with this, of course, least being that this was an out and out horror trope. Something was off about this deliberately cutesy-acting Faerin - the question was what the hell it was.

What he was smelling didn't line up with Dissonance, but something that could be considered a close cousin. A glutinous consistency in the air, as though it were congealed with something beyond the dark, something sickly-sweet, the breath of fevered madness, something rotten to the core... it made for a cocktail strong enough that even unspecialised senses like the mundane Caenis nose can guess at its potency.

Like a diseased carcass left to spoil into a fetid sludge under the sun.

Mister? How about it? Let's go!

It's bad enough that she's trying to present exploring this ghost town as some form of 'fun' - worse that her beady two-tone eyes don't move with the rest of her, instead staying trained on Ash's face at every angle. It's almost insultingly obvious that this saccharine chirpiness is supposed to be a litmus test for whatever his response may be... for whatever purpose.

Fixed in her gaze, that not-blue blue-green blue stirs a muffled quavering note.

 

[Eva]

From the top of the roof of an abandoned town hall, Eva surveyed the silent settlement below. A monocular, more a scanner than a simple viewfinder, was pressed to her eye. Her investigation was to confirm if this mass disappearance was a new manifestation of Dissonance.

Hey, would be fun, no? Explore, play detectives! Fun!

Lowering the device, she processed the data. The readings were conclusive: zero residual Dissonance signatures. This was something different—a far more interesting puzzle than she had anticipated.

A mass disappearance with no discernible cause.

Her scanner then focused on the two life signs in the town square. A Caenis, whose bio-signs indicated elevated stress levels. A Faerin, whose energy signature was... peculiar? Eva collapsed her scanner back into its compact form and silently dropped from the roof, landing on the ground. Dressed in a waterproof, hooded black coat, she walked.

"Probably best to move on. I've learned what I need to know - they'll send a better equipped team once I report."

"It'll be all long gone and pointless when they do arrive."

Eva's approach was silent, her boots making no sound on the damp cobblestones. Her voice was the one that announced her arrival to the two obvious Starcalled. Not interested in whoever the identity of this a would-be murderer snake lady was, she nudged the conversation back to the matter at hand.

"You said supernatural, but you haven't said anything. No dead people around here, then?"

@Ludmilla Orphys @Ash Vargold

 

[Ash Vargold]

Closer, closer, filling the air with feverish rot, flickers of memory beating a jagged staccato into his veins, friend or foe, friend or foe, tilting rapidly towards the later.

Mister? How about it? Let's go!

"H-hey, back off-"

A small hand reaching out, her (its?) words little more than static in his ears, his unwillingness to strike something that looked so painfully human warring against the terror of what it/she/it might do-

-cornered, trapped, alone alone alone-​

"It'll be all long gone and pointless when they do arrive."

An unfamiliar voice was the final straw, a focal point for the over-stimulation swallowing him alive. He drew, sword cutting perhaps a little too close to Ludmilla as he spun, pointing it towards...

"....ah"

...a normal (looking) person.

Friend or foe? He didn't know, but he clung desperately to a hope of the former, if only to strangle the rattling in his chest into something resembling control. No flickering interface, no drifting smell of death or rot. He'd take that.

He lowered his sword and took a deep breath as he sheathed it. Now that his pulse had settled back into an unsteady hum he was able to think again.

"...none I can sense, at least. You're not from the guilds, are you? I'm pretty sure I was the only one on this contract."

The shift from stuttering terror to annoyed skepticism would be strange if it were anywhere other than Terrasphere, probably.

@Ludmilla Orphys @Eva

 

[Ludmilla Orphys]

No? Why not? Is scary? Don't worry, Ludmilla can keep you safe...

Ludmilla's hand stops short of its mark. Her head tilts quizzically to one side, then in a single angular motion swings to the other, examining the nervous Caenis with that uncanny smile plastered on her face. The hell was she so happy about?!

Now, there were certain well-documented augmentations to their senses, maybe, but to seemingly be able to taste fear... Faerin don't have that kind of ability, right? Yet here, now-

Uwah-!

The facade returns in an instant as she theatrically stumbles back from the flash of steel, landing squarely on her behind against the cold muddy cobbles; the blade hadn't touched her at all, but it could be considered a near miss by any other metric.

Not that it'd be of any harm to Ludmilla, even if an accident had come to pass; such a cut without purpose could not harm her. Not in any way that would matter.

Either way, such a reaction was honestly quite the restrained reaching of a breaking point, as a third interlocutor of the mystery soundlessly arrives on scene. Ludmilla rubs the site of impact with a wide pout on her face, resolving into bright-eyed curiosity as she looks up at the taller woman striding up to the pair standing in the middle of the square.

Hi! Who are you? Here to play? Hide and seek! Detective hide and seek; everyone in town, gone missing.

By her standards, the more cooks to stir the broth, the merrier. Quickly summing the situation up, assuming no regard for due process and introductions, Ludmilla just seemed happy to have another friendly - or at least, amicably neutral - face around. It was only after she had invited the stranger to this town-spanning game of 'detective hide and seek' that Ludmilla remembered to loop around and name herself.

This is Ludmilla! This is...

...oh, mister never gave a name.

Silly mister! Ludmilla always saying hello first! Make good impression, mhm.

Those multicoloured pinpricks rounded expectantly on the Caenis again with some cheery chiding, flicking back to the human and then back once more. He certainly bounced back quite smartly, considering the state he was in not even moments ago. Quick as it was, that rapid change of demeanour was the least off-putting factor about this unplanned congregation. Most of that happened to reside elsewhere.

Regardless, safety in numbers was a sensible notion to hold. But for how long?

@Ash Vargold @Eva

 

[Eva]

She turned her attention to the Caenis, whose rapid shift from being panicked to skeptical was more interesting. Her arrival seemed to have stopped whatever dynamic was happening with the two.

"No, I am here to understand the anomaly that caused this town's vacancy, in case it was Dissonance-caused."

No reason to pose as another adventurer contracted by the Guild, as she was truly here to look for more Dissonance clues anyway. Her eyes flickered back to the Faerin without changing her expression.

Sometimes, it's these types with childlike curiosity and mannerisms that are more dangerous than others.

"To play a game, we need to understand the rules."

And to do that, they have to pool together the answers first to even know what the question was. As the faerin introduced herself, Eva just quickly nodded.

"Eva."

Her introduction was short, before she went back to the current matter at hand. The woman quickly divulged any information that she had, being that there was no indication of literally anything happening, and that this had probably nothing to do with Dissonance.

"It hasn't rained enough, but there are no tracks around. They didn't just simply walk in or out. I'd really like to know if something more dangerous than Dissonance exists."

@Ludmilla Orphys @Ash Vargold

 

[Ash Vargold]

Ash only briefly met Ludmilla's expectant eyes before breaking eye contact. Distrust was the name of the game, even as the names were traded freely. He hesitated, glancing between Ludmilla and the newcomer, Eva...

"...Ash."

...and finally gave up a name. For better or worse, this Eva was the only lifeline he had against the erratic faerin that he wasn't entirely convinced was a faerin.

"As far as things more dangerous than Dissonance... it's different kinds of danger." His tail waved as he turned the question over in his head. "Dissonance would make the most sense out here in High Reach, but I haven't noticed any UI glitching."

If either of them were Landers, they'd just have to deal with the lingo.

"There's magia, I guess, but they'd leave a mess... only other thing I could think of are if some players decided to fuck around and find out." Ash grimaced. "And if that's the case, I really don't want to end up in PvP.

In other words, he had no clue what was going on.

@Ludmilla Orphys @Eva