abraxaslogs | • OPEN •

WHO: anyone and everyone in solvunn
WHAT: mingle for the summoned, particularly the new people
WHEN: a day or two after the new summoned arrive
WHERE: in aloy's homestead—crossing some wilderness but close to the primary settlement
WARNING: TBA

A. THE JOURNEY THERE

The invitation to Aloy’s homestead is made shortly after the newly Summoned find their bearings within the Primary Settlement. Aloy begrudgingly agrees to it, but seeing as how their group has grown within Solvunn—it probably is for the best to be a little more open to the presence of others. Much like with the treehouse by the lakes, it’s good to know of another place further away from the settlements where the Summoned might feel comfortable enough to traverse into.

That is not to say that the homestead is very friendly to strangers, though. Aloy has set up tripwires, disguised pitfalls, snare traps, and other devices in the surrounding area, creating thus a challenging attempt for anyone who wants to travel there by themselves. Additionally, a way to avoid most of that (read: not all; consider it a bonus for getting close to the homestead) is to go through the arboreal parkour course that has been set up. A network of catwalks, platforms, and balancing ropes to traverse the woods. Reaching Aloy’s truly is a test of guts and skill.  

(Alternatively, travel with Wanda or Himeka—the path clears up for them. For the ballsy, follow Nero and Rocket; surely they aren’t scheming anything…)

And, past all of that, the woods will open up to a tall, spiky fence, about eight feet tall, and the gate will lead towards the homestead proper.

B. HOME SWEET HOMESTEAD

The seasons are turning, and while Solvunn doesn’t suffer from incredibly cold winters, there is definitely a chill in the air. Storm clouds in the distance by the coast rupture with booming thunder, bringing down the temperature quite significantly. It makes the bonfire burning outside a welcome source of warmth. Despite the threat of rain, there’s a strong chance the skies will clear up, as the wind picks up.

Within, Aloy’s homestead boasts the woman’s survival and technical skills. Making the most of her resources, there are meats hanging to dry, chopped wood on the side of the house, and animal skins splayed out that will most likely need to be stored at some point. The inside of the homestead is a simple affair, but for someone who isn’t in the business of receiving guests, it’s decent enough.

For today, the space—inside and outside—has a few extra wooden chairs and tables, picnic style, and they’re decorated with an assortment of food: recently harvested apples from the orchard, berries, roasted mushrooms and acorns, and more complex dishes thanks to Himeka’s arduous work in the kitchen the day before. At one point, a giant stew will cook over the bonfire, with meats and veggies, with bowls to the side for anyone to take their fill. Additionally, there will be grilled fish, flat breads, baked cabbage with lentils and, for those with a sweet tooth, apple pie. Wanda will also be sharing sarmale, a pot of goulash, spinach and cheese pastry—gibanica, and a table of assortments to build their own burgers. Additionally, there will also be apple cake and mandelbrot cookies. All in all? No one’s going hungry at the homestead.

But, worry not, all that food needs to go down with something. Barrels of mead and ale will be available for all to drink. For those who don’t want anything alcoholic, there is apple (and other fruit) juice available.

Make merry and mingle, new faces and old faces alike.

And, of course, please take one of the pamphlets.

C. THE STORM THAT IS APPROACHING

Lightning strikes, and almost immediately the boom of thunder brings an eerie quiet to the homestead and the forest past its fences. There’s the awkward laugh the tries to break the silence, shaking the jitters away. Some are quicker than others in mobilizing, perhaps feeling the pinprick of raindrops that others don’t, and start moving what they can salvage from the food and miscellaneous items into the cabin. Some may choose to spare themselves of the rain, pushing the way inside or hiding under the roof’s awning at either side of the cabin; others may be entirely unbothered by the rain, as heavy drops fall fast from the darkened skies.

More thunder rumbles in the distance, roiling ever closer from the mountains in Thorne’s southern border.

A few Summoned might notice it first, that it isn’t really the rumbling of thunder that shakes the muddled earth. The grunts of approaching beasts are mixed with the sound of hooves drumming up in rhythm of an uninvited approach. Birds fly away in flocks as the mammoth boars make their way through the forest, inadvertently towards the homestead.

They are due their mating season, and traveling to the wintry mountains of Thorne has been delayed by the appearance of the beasts in the rifts, the journey now a toll on the boars as the continuous lighting and thunder confuses, frightens, and angers them.

They ram into the fence at different points, and chaos would soon ensue, but thankfully all the Summoned have their powers back.

Right?

D. CLEARING UP

After a few boars were felled, the rest scrambled and escaped, continued their path northward. Killing some of them was inevitable, but nothing ought to be left to waste. The skies clear, the waning moon appears over a colorful sunset, and the rain stops. The fire is built again in earnest, and meat is, quite literally, back on the menu at the grilling station, as per Nero’s helpful suggestion. Some fences need a little mending, and a general amount of cleaning up within the homestead needs to be done, too.

As sunset gives way to nighttime, the sky—once marred in dark tones of gray—gives way to a beautiful night sky, with stars and constellations to be delighted by many. Wanda will be offering to dry the wet clothes of those still sticking around, and Himeka hands over warm cocoa or warm cider, something for everyone.

Now that things have quieted down, and with folk sitting around the fire or standing just by the edges of it, Rocket and Wanda inform everyone of the letter from the Nether that they received—something, perhaps, so they can get a general idea of what everyone thinks; about getting involved, about helping, about Solvunn’s interests in all this. It’s not meant to start an argument, debate, or a long conversation, but it’s something to have everyone think about — to know that they might be sent off somewhere else, soon, for a while, and brace for the trip.

Those who have been in Solvunn for a lot longer will be around, to ask questions or start a conversation about what has happened, what is currently happening, and theories for their futures, here.

Aloy didn’t mention anyone can stay to sleep, though, so best feel ready to head back at some point.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"But we shouldn't have to avoid pits! We're going to a welcoming party, not the qualifying trials for the next Headboy death games!"

Oh god. Arthur hadn't thought of that until now. What if they're expected to participate in blood sports? He's seen it too much in all the little cult settlements around the Garden District.

"You...you don't think there's going to be death games, do you?"

Asked in a tone that says he's had far more experience with that sort of thing than he'd like.

That is a rather specific way of voicing one's concerns, yes, especially with the namedrop of "Headboy death games", which of course means absolutely nothing to Henry.

But that, entwined with the man's clear nervousness, provides obvious intrigue for a man like him, who doesn't always particularly mind seeing others in such a state. Still, his smile is polite enough.

"That's not really a thing that happens around here, at least not with the rest of the Summoned. Why? Have you been a part of... a 'death game' before?"

Oh, that's so very good to hear!

"Not willingly." And in Arthur's defense, he'd tried very very hard not to actually kill anyone. Just knock them out. It had even worked! For a little while...

Either way, he's here now which says he clearly survived said death games.

"Never willingly. I'm actually a pacifist. Official member of the Society of Friends." He'd like to make that very clear to the friendly man who's stopped to help. He is not a violent person. It's only he's often been forced into violent situations. Arthur might be a pacifist, but he doesn't have a death wish. Really, it's only sensible to defend oneself. What had he been supposed to do, just lie down and get brutally murdered for no good reason?

"So I am very pleased to hear there's no blood sport on the agenda. But...er...why the trap gauntlet?"

"For fun," he says, with a smile that doesn't precisely belie the fact that Henry thinks that could be bullshit, but there's a touch of wryness to its angle.

"I really don't think we'll have to kill anyone. But everyone has their own idea of what's entertaining, and maybe we just have to... prove ourselves to get to the gathering."

Honestly, Henry doesn't care either way. He's stubborn enough to make it past all these traps set up for a person who can't be bothered to pay attention to their surroundings. Anyway, he waves Arthur closer to him, asking in the interim, "Are you really a member of a... Friendship Society?"

"Let's file it under hazing, then." Very rude way to haze newcomers, in Arthur's opinion. But he supposes it wouldn't be hazing if they just took a nature walk and got biscuits at the end. At least it looks like he's not about to be forced to deal with it on his own.

Alright. He's survived the sewers of Wellington, the mines of Wellington, and the wilderness of Wellington. Not to mention the streets. He can certainly manage this. There isn't even anyone chasing him and it seems the nice young man who's stopped isn't about to abandon him. He follows the directional wave, moving closer to his helpful companion.

"Oh! Ah, not a friendship society. The Society of Friends. More commonly known as Quakers, I suppose. Please don't ask me about oatmeal, we had nothing to do with that. But we are notorious pacifists. I was born Anglican of course, but after the Blitz...ah, sorry. Sorry. I'll shut up now, I've a bad habit of rambling I'm afraid."

Particularly when nervous or anxious. Arthur is both of those things right now.

Oh, yes. This is a nervous, anxious kind of man. He can tell as he listens to the words that really don't mean much to Henry at all, at least in the sense that he doesn't try to wring out too much context from them. But he listens politely, all the same.

"You can talk all you want if it makes you feel better."

And he does mean that; he can always tune it out if it truly bothers him.

"You must really be out of your element, either way. Tell me, are there people with powers in your world?"

This question will become relevant in a moment.

"Oh, you'd be surprised..." Too much is too familiar to Arthur, in a way. Like this. It would not be at all out of place in the Garden District. It makes him think of the booby traps the Headboys use.

"You mean like magic? Well, witches of course. Only I think there's only three of them, and they mostly keep to themselves. Oh, and the Space God People say they have powers, and then there's the Yam Cult but they're generally just capable of yam-centric sort of things." He's not about to mention the one power the Holy Yam granted unto him, it's not helpful. Not usually. The local gods of his home aren't the most powerful or impressive.

"Most everyone's very blessed with the power of bullshit and ignorance, though. And propaganda! You won't find more powerful propagandists than in Wellington Wells."

The bitter tone to his voice clearly underlines just how he feels about that.

And once again, there's almost too much to parse here. What's a Yam Cult? Space God People?

There's a point where Henry's curiosity dissipates when faced by too much ridiculousness, and though it hasn't quite reached that point, he can't quite bring himself to question it more -- not yet, anyway. They have a pit to deal with.

"I'd like for you to tell me more about Wellington Wells, but... Let's get someplace safer first, okay?"

He smiles.

"I'm going to throw you across the pit with my powers," he says, as casual about talking about the weather. "Let me know when you're ready."

• OPEN •

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wow. i never hit submit on this. i'm sorry