goodmeme | TEST DRIVE MEME

test drive meme

Welcome to the opening test drive of

goodmorrow! If you're just getting here, you can find our game premise here and our full navigation here.

It's a new game, but you don't have to play a newbie! This game has a mechanic that allows people to app characters who aren't new to the setting. Please check over on our application guidelines for more information about how it works. We've also got a summary of World Events that occurred prior to this TDM, so your oldbie can have some things to reference.

Thank you for playing! We're excited to have you.

arrivals | forbidden knowledge | ooc notes

the summoning

Arrivals There is always a buzz around the time of a summoning ritual. Will there be dozens? Or will this time only yield a handful? Will the stakes become dramatic enough for there to be a glimpse of one of the Old Ones, and the chance to partake in their incomprehensible greatness? The ones who believe consider it a day of hope and new beginnings. However, there are much more mundane concerns for the skeptics. Summoning means that there will be a whole new group of displaced folks who'll need to be oriented. They'll come hurting and confused, squirming with the bone-deep pain of travel and weary after hours of hearing about how they've been Chosen to herald the approach of the Old Ones. People will be here seeking help, and most of the native townsfolk only understand how to preach at newcomers. The new arrivals will likely need help from more experienced expats who better understand where they're coming from.

dessicated and unremarkable

Forbidden Knowledge Even after the end of the summoning ritual, many kept their eyes watching the sky. There is always the risk of summoning more than just a new batch of novitiates. When pulling things from other worlds, chances are high that something else might tag along.

A few hours after the end of the introductory sermon, scraps of paper start to blow down from the sky. They travel on the breeze and seem to get into everything. They land on roofs and float through open windows. They get tangled in tree branches and end up underfoot on walking paths. Page after page delicately makes its way to the earth.

It must be wisdom from the cosmos! The rumor sweeps its way across town in hushed whispers. The gossips are saying that the elders want the pages collected, so that they can properly archive and study them. They promise a handsome reward to those who can gather enough to fill a tome, but that seems somehow less attractive, even as something to wish about. Whether deliberately hunting out the pages or accidentally encountering them in everyday life, it will soon be obvious that these are pages full of something best left unseen.

Some of the manuscript pages seem mundane enough. The words seem strangely familiar, as if they might be legible if one focuses on them hard enough. It's just a matter of figuring out handwriting or deciphering a dialect. It must be. A page might prove so engrossing that it leaves a person in an enthralled state, silently locked in a quest to understand something that looks so comprehensible only for it to veer off into the uncanny. This lock might leave them tremendously suggestible to any words spoken around them, their minds struggling and desperate enough to latch on to anything comprehensible at all.

Other pages seem less similar to human writing and will likely create less of a hold on those with the misfortune to view them. The pages covered in glyphs and arcane symbols feel almost empowering their foreignness, almost as if one might simply let the experience wash over them and let it run through them. Those unlucky enough to state too long at one of those pages might find themselves overwhelmed by instances of magical outbursts. It feels like a strange sort of sneeze as the arcane energy suddenly sparks a small thunderbolt into existence, or turns a bushel of hay into a solid block of iron. The effects are seemingly random, but wear off on their own in a few minutes. It's probably fine. What kind of damage could be done in such a short time?

This might be a relief to the illiterate members of the community, if it wasn't for the leathery pages. More parchment than paper in texture, these pages seem to carry something ominous in the rough fibers of their material. When touched without protective gloves, these pages force their handler to feel a glimpse of unspeakable suffering. It comes from a place beyond pain, lighting parts of the mind that were never intended for use. Screaming might be a way to express it, but more often it manifests in an expression of extreme emotion. Hysterical mania seems nice until it doesn't end and keeps a person up at night unable to stop laughing. Murderous rage might be inconvenient for the other members of the village. Whatever the emotion is, it's gone far beyond any normal limitation and will stay that way for the next several hours.

Enjoy the hunt, Revelbrooke. Try not to end up with too many papercuts.

ooc notes

Thanks for checking out this setting! If you have questions, feel free to direct them to the first thread below.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The words sink into the angry young man's mind and stick. It was something LT or even Marion would have said to get Sean to refocus and stop doing whatever stupidly foolish combat idea got stuck into his head. He turns his fists dropping to his sides, dripping blood and bruised. He turns around trembling.

He is breathing hard and fast, his heart racing as he stares down the man. "Magic," he says confused, "you mean like Bleed..."

"Bleed would be what your knuckles are doing so far as I can tell. Then again, I've heard magic called stranger terms, so yes, perhaps exactly like 'Bleed.'"

Something about the way Sean says the word makes it sound like it has a capital letter to it, that it's some entity entirely unto itself. The vampire will try to ignore the actual blood anyway, for the time being. It's likely not going to be a good start to go munching a new acquaintance. Poor manners.

"Some of the parchments seem to bring on visions of pain and rage. Or fear. Or hysteria. Other pages seem to have more metaphysical effects. I accidentally roasted a sheep with a lightning bolt earlier. It was... alarming."

The mention of pain and rage makes Sean pause. He looked down for a second ashamed as he realized what he saw was his memories being enhanced by whatever magic or Bleed was in the page he picked up. He takes a few deep breaths calming down more as he keeps watching the stranger carefully. "Sounds like this place is a bit...wild," he says, his voice rough with an accent that will seem strange to an untrained ear.

"Guess I'm gonna have to be careful then...not used to being able to use Bleed myself...save that for my buddy most of the time."

"You might say that. Wild and yet entirely... provincial at the same time. It's strange, no matter what." Astarion's accent is crisp and posh, British were there actually anything such as Britain in Faerun.

He nods his agreement. "Caution is certainly advisable, yes. But here..." A gesture for Sean to come closer. "Why don't we see about getting you patched up. One never knows what the scent of blood will attract. Better to get that taken care of. My name is Astarion. What's yours?"

Sean moves closer, carefully keeping an eye on the man. He carries a tension to him but the type that is less like he is ready to run and more like he is making sure he is ready for a fight if one is coming. Think of a wolf stalking prey it isn't sure it is going to pounce on yet. "Thank you for the help," he says, "name is Sean...nice to meet you."

"Sean," he repeats with a nod. "I'd say it's a pleasure, but let's be honest, this whole situation is a travesty." Being summoned (abducted) by fanatical cultists and trapped in a town that is far less glamorous than Astarion would prefer.

He looked at the other man, and something in him recognized what he saw there, like understanding like. After all, the vampire was at his core nature a predator, fanged and clawed and lethal. For the moment though, there was no need for that from his end. "Where are you from, Sean? You're human, clearly, but I can't place your accent."

Sean eyes Astarion warily but he doesn't move or try to get away. He's just trying to get a read on the guy if he can. "Newfaire," he says in his accent, drawing out the word faire as a long sound that sounds harsh. "Doubt you would have heard of it if you're asking...most people from there would know a Soffit accent when they hear it."

The young man glances around taking in the paper on the ground and the dark dankness of the village. "Travesty is being nice," he snarks, "this place looks like Bleed sucked the life out of everything."

"Mm, no, never heard of it. I'll take it you don't wouldn't know of Baldur's Gate, then. This may actually be an entirely different world. Or plane or dimension. Whatever you'd like to call it."

That did complicate things. For all the thing she was good at, traveling between realms was not something that Astarion was ever capable of.

"There is something downright funereal about this place, isn't there? But cults do tend to bring the general mood down." Remembering that they still had bleeding to deal with, the vampire looked around. "I think there was a shop nearby, they may have bandages. I should warn you, I'm no healer."

There is a flash of fear on Sean's face for a second when he hears he might be in another world. His Circle would worry themselves sick....Marion most of all... But then the moment of emotion is gone and his flippant nature returns and he grins at his new friend. "These hands have more scars then not...don't worry about it....I'm just glad you were willing to help."

He shrugs as he walks along. "Not many people would have you know."

"So they do. Quite a few scars for such a young man." Which is interesting and tells him at least something about this Sean. A solder perhaps, or at least someone used to having to fight their way through life. Fascinating.

The elf smiles right back with a shrug of his own. "If it makes you feel better, it's not without ulterior motive. We're both newly dropped into a strange place surrounded by... unsettling people. It only makes sense to seek out possible allies, don't you think? Should tensions begin to rise with the locals."

"Newfaire isn't known for being the safest place," Sean replies, "grew up having to scrap with rougher elements when my brothers weren't there to back me up."

He considers the next words and nods. "Makes sense," he says, "this place makes my skin crawl and I've been around some creepy shit....might not be a bad idea to have back up when you need it."

"I see. Well, I imagine that may come in handy in this sort of place as well." Astarion grew up in very different circumstances, but he's been prowling the night -- though not of his own volition, but rather under the inescapable control and command of his master and sire -- for centuries. He's only recently come back into his own freewill. And now he's been kidnapped by a cult.

Fuck him.

But he allows none of this to show in his expression, still a sedate, amicable smile as he nods. "My thoughts exactly. There is something very wrong about this place and the people who call it home."

TEST DRIVE MEME

Re: forbidden knowledge

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