Player Plot: The Salvation of Geardagas, Part II

[faileas]

Event Log: February, The Salvation of Geardagas: Part II



CW: This plot has a general content warning for kidnapping, torture, experimentation, violence, drug use (incl. aphro), infection/disease and potential death. This is entirely opt-in.

Spirited Away, Part 2 i. Hypothesis One moment, you were free. The next, you wake up in a cold, dark room with eyes on you and the cloying smell of decay all around you. Characters who have been kidnapped are being kept in the lower floor of Alder's estate, which is a labyrinth of rooms and corridors. Without exception, the way out is always either locked or heavily guarded. All kidnapped characters have been infected with the Cwyld (sometimes by proximity to botanical materials, sometimes by being directly exposed to the violent Shades they already have imprisoned) and are being used to further the Evergreen Circle's research into the nature of the plague. The details of these tests is expanded on in the plotting post and, needless to say, their capturers have very little interest in their wellbeing. They're needlessly cruel, often pitting victims against each other and forcing them to infect newer arrivals as they turn up. Subjects are allowed a few hours of sleep at a time and a small meal- assuming that they're not being purposefully deprived of either- and are locked together in cramped cells. ii. Alternative Theory Some characters, however, escape this particular cruelty in favour of something else just as dehumanising. If a member of the inner circle has taken a liking to someone, they'll take them out of the pool of tests subjects and move them into their households. Servitude is ensured by a strong enchantment that scrambles memories and replaces them with the false knowledge that they've been working there all along. These brainwashed servants might also be forced to participate in the torture and testing of the others.

Initiation The night of the initiation party is here. If you've managed to ingratiate yourself with the cult- or at least a member of rank- you'll have already received an elegant envelope with an invitation and all the details. Or maybe you stole one or put together a convincing forgery. Alder's estate is handsome, with a small courtyard lit up with strings of lights and servants at the double doors to greet guests. Inside is just as grand. The hall and ballroom are impressive spaces with vaulted ceilings painted with elaborate star maps and broken up with marble columns that wouldn't look out of place in a palace. Drinks tables are lined up against the walls and there are several smaller drawing rooms off to the side, all of which are full of guests. Throughout the first hour or so, Alder himself flits from person to person, congratulating them and making smalltalk, but he seems different somehow. Excitable. Eager. Of course, there are other ways one might get in; while the front entrance is closely monitored, the side one leading through the kitchens isn’t. In the hustle and bustle, you might slip through unnoticed. i. Cavorting and Cruelty It isn't long before things take a turn. Alder takes to the head of the room and, with his signature voice amplifying enchantment, addresses his audience. He greets everyone and gives a fairly standard speech thanking guests and welcoming initiates to the Evergreen Circle proper- and then it happens. Servants begin to wheel in cages and tanks, all containing individuals infected with the Cwyld at various stages. Some look to have been drugged, others are wide awake, but the regulars seem delighted by their presence. They whisper and titter and applaud. Some of the more docile victims are even taken out to be showed off like animals at a fayre. "Tonight, let us enjoy the fruits of our labour! Witness the progress we've made and share our blessings among yourselves! Fear will only blind you to taking the next step. Indulge, open your minds and take the first step towards your salvation!" What he means by this quickly becomes apparent. While they're not discussing or mocking the imprisoned witches and monsters, the other guests are partaking of vice the party has to offer. The drinks flow freely and there's a manic energy in the air. Those with sharp senses might recognise that some of it has been artificially crafted by enchantments. Furthermore, if you're looking for missing loved ones, you'll no doubt spot them among the "test subjects" or servants. Good luck trying to snap the latter back to reality, though: their memories have been tightly sealed and it might take some work. One of the drawing rooms has been half curtained off and a woman at the door skittishly offers the curious an aphrodisiac-laden draught, though some might have accidentally had some already. Within, guests are draped over every surface in varying states of undress, though there are partitions up to allow for more privacy. What better way is there to spread the Cwyld and strengthen bonds than intimacy? ii. Midnight Show Things reach a fever pitch around midnight. Once more, Alder calls for everyone's attention. "There's one more thing. I know all of you are loyal, true believers- but everyone must be tested," he says, gesturing to several larger bodyguards, "and we have to protect ourselves. There are those who don't understand us and seek to undo our work. Therefore, we need to tie up loose ends." One by one, the least aggressive Cwyld-infected subjects are dragged from their cages and any remaining individuals are brought out, all restrained. One of the bodyguards is carrying a large ceremonial dagger, which he presses to the vampire at the front’s throat. "Rest assured, their deaths with not be in vain: we have learned much and they will make for the perfect offering to the beings who gave us the Cwyld's blessing!" The knife flashes, ready to cut already decaying flesh- - a blood-curdling scream echoes through the room and glass shatters as a Shade breaks free from its prison. It ploughs into the guests, howling with rage as it tears into anyone and everyone that stands in its way, and others soon follow. At some point during the chaos, Alder appears to realise that he’s been caught. He, along with his inner circle, set to work trying to cover up their actions, setting the basement floor alight and using magic to bring down supports to block doorways completely. If you want to gather evidence, it has to be now, else you can focus your efforts on a rescue mission or chasing the cult leader himself down.

[ ooc: More information about the event can be found on the plotting post along with comments for questions, and an IC vote concerning Alder's fate! ]

Comments

[petcromancer]

[Bashing your problems away with a sword is a time-honored solution. If it ain't broke, keep smashing don't fix it.

Hector backs away from the door in case the blade slips or any pieces go flying.]

Much appreciated. This is too wild a party even for me.

[He says over the sounds of cultists getting disemboweled by the ravaging shade on the other side of the room.]

[wylderrant]

[ Fortunately, she has a very strong grip, so the sword doesn't break or go flying. The lock eventually comes free with a wrench of screeching metal and she yanks the door open and offers him her hand. ]

I think our parties have a great deal more to be recommended about them. Let's go-!

[ She half-turns because someone has finally noticed what she's up to. Woops. ]

[petcromancer]

[Hector steps out of the cage, and then ducks behind Iramaat when he realizes they've drawn attention to themselves. Fuck. This party just doesn't quit.]

I don't think our hosts appreciate the constructive criticism.

[wylderrant]

Well, maybe I should get more pointed.

[ That's a terrible pun, Iramaat. But she does suit action to the word by jumping forward and forcing away one cultist at sword-point. They don't seem to want to get themselves run through, but they are cursing up a storm. ]

[petcromancer]

[It's a bad pun, but a needed action, and Hector uses the space Iramaat wins them to get away from the cage. He's perfectly happy to leave the fighting to those better suited for it.]

Watch out. They're cowards, but they're zealous enough to be dangerous.

[wylderrant]

Zealotry is no much for steel.

[ As if to illustrate the concept she gives the cultist a little jab - or tries to - and it forces him away. She takes a step back, staying alongside him. ]

Let's get you out of here, hmm?

[petcromancer]

Yes please.

[Their fanaticism is no shield against her blade, but it does mean that they will take risks a more sane individual might not. Hector doesn't want to test them.

He starts hoofing it for the door.]

[wylderrant]

[ She stays with him - apparently she'd rather save one person she knows than worry about everyone else at this point. Another cultist comes at them though and she turns to face him, but she's grappled before she can get her point in line. She spits a curse and struggles, wrestling for control with the man. ]

Hector-!

[ Help - or don't. ]

[petcromancer]

Shit.

[Hector is illogical in the way most people are. When it comes to abstract sacrifices, he can stomach the idea of leaving faceless people behind. But someone he knows, a friend he can see right here, right now, in need...

Hector's not a brave man, but he's also not quite that morally bankrupt.

He turns on his hooves and ducks his head, taking a leap at the cultist horns-first.]

[wylderrant]

[ That's honestly all Iramaat needs. The headbutt rams into the cultist's side, who staggers with a cry of pain, and it gives her enough of an opening to smash the hilt of her blade into his face and then follows up with a stab. There's a brief struggle and a splurt of blood and it's (mostly) over.

She's breathing hard. ]

Nice work.

[petcromancer]

[Hector shakes his ringing head and tries not to look at the bleeding cultist. It's a complication he doesn't need right now.]

You too. Now, we should go.

[Time to see if they can make it to the door uninterrupted this time.]

[wylderrant]

Agreed-

[ She takes him by the elbow and practically starts to drag him toward the door. She's light on her hooves, at least, and so far no one else is getting in their way. ]

Seems like it's my turn to save people this year-!

[petcromancer]

Indeed. I'm in your debt.

[He's hoping that doesn't mean they need to turn back around and try to save anyone else, though. Hector's sense of heroism is too tiny and withered for that.]

[wylderrant]

Buy me a bottle of wine or something.

[ She has to catch her breath, panting. ]

We'll see what happens after.