TEST DRIVE MEME

[morrowmods]

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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Comments

[nethereseorb]

What do you think they are attempting to summoun? [ And please do not let the answer back be 'bad fashion sense'; Gale saw the way that Astarion sneered at the sackcloths. ]

[reflectionless]

Nothing I'm particularly interested in seeing. I mean really cultists are so cliche. I'm embarrassed for them. Also they have terrible fashion sense.

[nethereseorb]

[ He knew it, he absolutely knew that was going to come out of the paper airplane that had lobbed itself magically at him ]

Is not potato sacks all the rage amidst cultists in general, though? I am sure that if there is anyone that may set a style, it's invariably you.

[reflectionless]

One reason of many that I have tried to avoid joining a cult -- the robes do nothing for my figure.

No one is setting a style in this. This may as well be a death shroud for fashion sense.

But all right, since we're wasting paper, I'll bite. What do you believe they're intending to summon?

[nethereseorb]

[ Comment about wasting paper? Gale approves ]

Then I suppose we shall have to take you on some sort of shopping trip once we can clear whatever it is these cultists want-- though I have seen this sort of zealotry from the Followers of the Absolute so-- my short answer is nothing good.

[ does Astarion dare to ask what the long answer is? ]

[reflectionless]

I assume there isn't nearly enough ink in town for your long answer?

But I admit, I think you're right. Nothing good, and we're expected to be some part of it. Though admittedly the how of that is a bit unclear.

[nethereseorb]

You can be sure that I wanted to know the how of it, the methods that they have used. Do you understand that this is inter-planar travel, Astarion? This is typical magic heretofore unexplored and therefore a wonder. Of course I have asked them, but they've been tight lipped on the subject.

[ He was a wizard and not particularly charismatic, that was generally a wizard's other dump stat and likely second to strength. Clearly this man needed a handler. ]

[reflectionless]

I'm finding myself growing tired of heretofore unexplored wonders. Don't get me wrong. The tadpole has its perks, but it's also created quite the fuss. And now a new world, or plane, or whatever you like to call it.

There are ways to loosen even the tightest of lips, Gale. You just have to know how to go about it. Should I offer my help?

[nethereseorb]

I think that there is no one better with their mouth than you...

[ Wait a minute, he meant words.. not mouth. Is there a way to shove them back in his mouth? ]

You know what, strike through that last one-- there is no one better at convincing people than you so please take pity on me and I will.. well when we get back home, I will buy you a pair of matching boots.

[reflectionless]

Darling, you have absolutely no idea right you are.

[Astarion is living. He's keeping this piece of paper to pull out and torment Gale with some other time. Beautiful.]

Yes, I do have a knack for that as well. But you have yourself a deal. My pity for a new pair of boots. Good boots. I need the leather to feel like an embrace.

[nethereseorb]

Your wish is my command, I will look for matching boots, with embellishments as a suitable eye catch, beautiful threaded trimmings and a slight heel. [ Because of course Gale's boots were heeled, a very supportive and blunt heel and perhaps a mark of vanity but still.

Also as much as he wanted to hear about Astarion's talented mouth, now was probably not the time, just as the whole Tadpole thing had made it not the time back in Faerûn. ]

I vow that you will get that embrace, at the first available opportunity, it would be a shame to allow those calves to remain unhugged-- after all the boots they gave us are a bit on the hole-y side.

[reflectionless]

There might be hope for you yet, Gale.

[Gale gets this fashion thing. He's impressed. But then again, if he considers what the wizard wanders around camp in, he supposes he should have guessed as much.

Pity though, that the time is never right. It's such an interesting topic. Astarion is sure Gale would be utterly transfixed.]

Quite right, yes. Honestly, as recompense for cosmic kidnapping, the attire and the welcome have been... shoddy.

[nethereseorb]

[ All wizards have something they are fastidious about, it comes with the territory, and if you look at Gale's cuticles close up as well the pores on his face, it is true that he likely has a regime of some sorts-- at least from looking at them, the skin seem well taken care of.

One would almost thing that he.. exfoliates? And the beard is never unkempt or straggly. ]

I doubt they know how to treat guests which is why.. this. [ One could imagine the mental gestures from here, a sweeping here ]

Do you think that Tav is here somewhere? [ Perhaps highly unlikely-- the Absolute seemed to leave it's mark on them far more indelibly than the rest of them. ]

[reflectionless]

[Astarion can appreciate a man who takes care of himself, certainly. Those details have not gone unnoticed.]

Ah. That question. I've been avoiding giving it much thought for a while now, because I'm not certain whether I'd be more relieved to know they were here or nowhere near this wretched place.

But no, I don't believe they are.

[nethereseorb]

[ They all cared about Tav, in their own way so honestly. Gale was rather relieved that they were not here, it meant that they could work this out and hopefully return sooner rather than later. He absolutely knew that Astarion was not unmoved either. ]

No matter the case, I suppose it means that we are on our own hear for the time being, and will have to muddle our way around this place to uncover it's mysteries.

[ And then okay, he is going to say something he regrets-- because this is the nature of the beast ]

I suppose I am glad that you are here, even though I am sure that it is a terrible inconvenience to you.

[reflectionless]

[Their fearless leader and their sometimes questionable choices, yes, they all did care for Tav in one way or another.]

I suppose we are, yes. Left with nothing but a puzzle to unravel.

[And then, Astarion is left quiet for a long moment before he finishes his latest little paper missive to the wizard. Because what. That's... Well. Fine.]

It's horribly inconvenient, yes. But I'll admit that if you're here, then I suppose I'm glad to be here as well. I don't like the idea of you being left to your own devices here. Hells know what trouble you could get yourself in.

[nethereseorb]

And you do not think that someone needs to watch over you as well? Think of all those insanguinated animals lying strewn on a path to your doorstep, someone clearly has to watch out for you before you drain everyone of their blood rivers.

[ Nothing better than obfuscation through a well-timed statement that could potentially be classed as 'derogatory' but is really 'affectionate' because they are idiots and that is a clear and irrefutable fact. ]

[reflectionless]

Please. I'm offended. I don't bite without permission. ...or provocation.

Well, people. Forest creatures don't count. And a man does have to eat.

Speaking of, should we be concerned about satisfying your strange appetite here to stave off disaster?

[To not have Gale go BOOM?]

[nethereseorb]

Oh yes, that.

[ His unfortunate relic addiction where he needed to eat items of magical intent in order to survive; his own hubris coming into play though even then they had reached the point where magic relics were not hitting quite as much. He was painfully aware of his own body and his orb felt stagnant in so much as in that it was there unsettled over his heart.

There were certain activities that he was hesitant to partake in because of the orb.

But the orb was only a hum, it certainly was reminiscent of itself at the beginning before it started rolling downward like a snowball hurtling to it's own mangled demise ]

Honestly, I do not even know where I would find magical artifacts here-- at least any that would sustain this Orb the way it needs to, which makes me wonder how much Time I have left.

[reflectionless]

We will need to find a solution then. I have no desire to shoulder this miserable experience by myself. Misery begs company.

[A stubborn statement because he really would be disappointed to see Gale explode. It would be a waste.]

I wonder, do you suppose that pesky Netherese magic could by syphoned off somehow?

[Perhaps by a helpful vampire who would even deal with the bitter taste.]

[nethereseorb]

Are you suggesting that you suck all of the Netherese energy out of me? I did communicate to you that I tasted horrible, right?

[ Has Gale ever tasted himself though? No, not really-- which meant that he did not precisely know what he tasted like; it could be horrible or it could be horrible and that was a sliding scale that was truly dependent upon the individual.

Gale has not gotten the memo that Astarion is gunning for a taste of him. One could call it a blissful sort of oblivion and when it came down to it, he was hideously obtuse as it was. Likely, Astarion would have to walk up to the wizard and tongue drag against his neck for him to even get the message, and even then it would be splotchy. ]

[reflectionless]

You did. This is an offer out of the goodness of my cold, undead heart. A sacrifice I am willing to make only because of my selflessness and overall goodness of character.

[Clearly that was the reason and not the very pointed desire to drink Gale's blood, warning of taste or not. It could very well be hideous and terrible, but nothing ventured nothing gained.

And somehow, he rather thought that it might just be the sort of thing that would catch his interest. Call it a hunch.]

[nethereseorb]

The self-sacrificing benevolence just drips off you like jewels you're probably used to wearing. [ Gale is not going to discount the idea however, especially with the lack of relics, but he is quite sure (uncertain, really) that it will be something that would appease palate, maybe someone born and bred on cavier of th vampire sort.. he was sure that it probably tasted like smoked something-- ash? He could not be certain as no vampire has ever tried to suck him off.

Well you know what Gale meant. ]

I am willing to give it (1) try, but it stops if you make any sign of disgust because I cannot take that bit of rejection especially after I gave you due warning, if you understand my meaning.

[reflectionless]

I was a magistrate not a princess, but it is an appealing image. Rubies and diamonds would be most appropriate, I think.

[So you know, if you're looking for something to get him for his birthday, Gale. There's that.

The next part of the little missive has Astarion struck near dumb. But not quite.

In fact, the message will be delivered in person, by hand, with the vampire arriving at Gale's door with nothing more than the piece of parchment, a hopeful look, and a single word:]

Really?

[nethereseorb]

[ They had both been put up within the same area as the group had mutually agreed that everyone should in essence stick together, so the moment that he opened the door and he saw Astarion standing there holding the note out in front of him. There was a raise of Gale's brow as he reached over to take the parchment which he held up and read.

It took half a second, then he was looking back at Astarion. Perhaps he was moved a little bit; however he endeavored to adopt his most insufferable tone of voice, it was typical Gale 'trying to impress that this was serious' and that he meant it ]

I am quite serious Astarion, one complaint and you are getting kicked out.

[ However discreet spitting was absolutely alright, as long as Gale did not hear it or see it ]