singillatim | seven devils all around you, seven devils in your house

seven devils all around you, seven devils in your house

JUNE 2024 EVENT

PART ONE — A SIGN OF THINGS TO COME: The Darkwalker claims another victim, and that is only the beginning of troubles for the Interlopers as they face a month of endless night and green gloom.

PART TWO — POLAR SUN: As June continues, Interlopers are faced with food insecurity as wildlife flees; tensions grow as they face hunger and the Darkwalker's continued influence. On the day of the Summer Solstice, the tension finally breaks and violent chaos descends upon Interlopers.

PART THREE — REPRIEVE: The end is in sight, and an ally comes to the Interloper’s aid.

A SIGN OF THINGS TO COME

WHEN: June 1st, then onwards.
WHERE: Milton area; Lakeside area (Carter Hydrodam).
CONTENT WARNINGS: death of playable character; supernatural death; mention of dead body; themes of death; supernatural beings; themes of terror; themes of peril.

The evening is quiet and still. May draws to a close and while the sun does not completely set, it dips low enough for the sky to grow a little darkdim with twilight. The midnight sun is almost upon the Northern Territories, the air is warmer than it has ever felt — even if it remains chilly. If this is summer, it is but a gentle brush of reprieve against the unyielding winter. The Interlopers wind down for the night, many turn to their beds to sleep, others sit awake and ponder their existence in this world. They think of home, of loved ones, of their predicament here in this place. The Forest Talkers, the strange beasts and monsters they’ve encountered.

The moon wanes in the skies, nestled amongst the stars. For those still awake to notice, they can see it: slowly, one by one, the stars begin to go out. Then the moon's light is swallowed whole, and a blanket of green gloom descends upon the Northern Territories.

The sky is dark and green and terrible. Many of those will recognise it, what this means and what will come. Others will not understand it, not know what it is that awaits them all.

They will soon find out: the Darkwalker comes.

Under a green sky, a cold fear washes over you — squeezing the breath from your lungs. Interlopers will find themselves overcome with that fear, and everything in their bodies and minds tells them to run. To flee. And so you run, heading for cover. Curtains will be drawn, some may hide under beds, within closets or wardrobes. Some desperately attempt to conceal themselves, make themselves small, unseen. Some Interlopers, in that fear, may rush to friends or loved ones to hide with them, others may simply cower alone — crawling and whimpering away from the night. The fear is irrational, unable to be overcome — even by the bravest or most stoic of Interlopers.

For those within Milton, it is further away but is by no means less potent: Interlopers will find themselves frozen with the constant loom of the Darkwalker’s arrival — even if it does not come to Milton. Those within Lakeside, however, will feel the true force of this presence: more like a knife edge — painfully gripping your heart as it draws close.

The Darkwalker howls: indescribable, unnatural, demonic. Low moans and groans. It comes from the east, the faint booms of footsteps in the distance growing ever nearer. It is coming, once more. It's coming for one of you. And still, you are powerless, unable to do anything. And it is an agony, awaiting its arrival. You cry, you whimper, you cower. Curling up for some shred of comfort, and finding none.

For those in Lakeside, through the fear, they may be able to note the path: a straight line from the east towards Carter Hydrodam. It seems to go on forever, building into a crescendo. Your heart beats so hard you fear it may burst from your chest, as if you might die of fright.

There is an almighty sound; the Darkwalker devours and even with the distance you can hear it. The sound of gnashing teeth, and… laughter. There is no scream, no bright light in the sky — Enola is silent this time. There is only that laughter, echoing off into the night.

The skies do not return to normal. The green gloom hangs in the air. It is done, but it is not yet over. While the overwhelming fear dissolves away, but a kind of… dread remains on the air — almost palpable.

The Darkwalker has devoured another. Braver souls who go out to investigate into Lakeside will find just who has been devoured once they reach the Hydrodam — although it may be a day or two before they will find the body in the medical bay.

At least it is cold enough that the rot does not fully set in — but death will certainly be here.

And this is but the beginning of the Interloper’s troubles.

POLAR SUN

WHEN: The month of June, up to Midsummer’s Eve + Summer Solstice.
WHERE: Milton area; Lakeside area.
CONTENT WARNINGS: themes of survival; food scarcity/food insecurity; supernatural weather; altered mental states; mental manipulation; themes of violence; potential character injury; potential character death; potential NPC death.

In the coming weeks and days, and weeks, the green gloom lingers. From the Darkwalker’s attack, there is no sun. No day, no night. No stars or moon or sun. No Auroras. Just the gloom and biting cold. Life becomes increasingly hard on Interlopers: higher expenditure on fuel — fires and lanterns are imperative to keep the darkness and the cold at bay.

With the green gloom in the air, the wildlife becomes more scarce — as if it has been frightened away into the deeper parts of the wilds. It will be harder to bring in fresh meat in both Milton and Lakeside, and Interlopers will find that they will have to rely on whatever stores they have — and perhaps even rationing for a while.

And it’s not the only thing frightened. Even with the debilitating fear that comes with the Darkwalker’s attack gone, there is still a kind of fear that lingers on the air that slowly eats away at the Interloper’s resolve over time.

Interlopers will find themselves anxious, on edge. Some will be prone to anger in their fear, others prone to fits of melancholy: tearfulness and sorrow. Between the cold, the lack of fresh game and the fear on the air — it’s no wonder spirits are low. Bickering and minor upsets between Interlopers are likely.

They call it the midnight sun, the polar day. It's opposite is the polar night. This is neither and both. On the day of midsummer's eve, that fear on the air is even more palpable. The air feels a little stifling at times, as if the pressure is all off — often quite oppressive, a strange kind of tension. There is something brewing, a low burning thing that begins from the moment Interlopers wake — heavy and sharp in their chest.

’So, Interloper. What will you do now?’ A voice sneers in your ear. The very same voice that has haunted Interlopers since the very beginning. The Darkwalker finally speaks after all these weeks of gloom since its most recent attack. ’When all is gone, when even the sun does not rise? What will you do then?’

A nervousness sits within you as you remember the Darkwalker’s words. What will you do if the sun does not rise? If the darkness is all that is left? If the food runs out? Your wonderings will continue to gnaw away within you. The darkness is hollowing.

’Will you lean on others, like you have always tried to do?’ the voice continues. ’What bonds you hold with them, the ones with those around you. But how strong are they, truly? Can you trust them? Will it matter when your belly is empty and your heart is low? Perhaps it is time to see.

’Never forget, Interloper. I am the Rot. And I will rot within you.’

As the day progresses into the Solstice, that tension lingers in the air, and the wonderings within you continue to wear at you. You find yourself becoming more and more agitated as time goes on. Those feelings that have been brewing for some time now have started to grow close to boiling. You may snap at others, grow restless, become enraged at the tiniest of things — the upsets wildly out of proportion for the smallest slights or issues.

You find your thoughts wandering, too. Perhaps it is to someone you know in this place, or perhaps it is to someone previously unknown to you. Maybe you have an issue with this person, or perhaps the voice’s influence extends further — not only adding to your agitations but creating them, too. A slight, a grudge, a bias.

You feel a bitter gnawing within you. The nightmarish green gloom above you persists and everything bubbles up from within. From the dark, the anger within you become too much. The tension finally snaps.

For some, it might come out as a vicious argument where you air your grievances, or finally let slip the things you’ve been holding close to your chest. A verbal beat down, incredibly hurtful in nature. For others, things may be drawn to getting physical. A literal beat down where your fists grow bruised and bloody, or perhaps even worse. Whatever it is, you want to do damage to someone else — there is darkness here, and so many things come out in the dark, don’t they?

Like a ripple, all around you: all hell breaks loose. Chaos erupts, and the air is filled with violence.

Let’s hope you might stop, or someone else stops you, before someone gets killed.

REPRIEVE

WHEN: Circa three days after the Summer Solstice.
WHERE: Milton.
CONTENT WARNINGS: blood.

All things must come to an end, even the most violent of deadly storms. In the midst of the seemingly endless violence of the night, you find yourself outside. Maybe you're fleeing from another Interloper, maybe you're desperately trying to reach someone you care for, maybe you're simply trying to find somewhere new to hide. Interlopers are hunting one another, blood lies on the snow, bodies too — some breathing, some not.

Perhaps it is a trick of the light. Perhaps it's the Darkwalker’s influence still warping your already frayed mind. Or it's the blood in your eyes, your battered and bruised body struggling to get through it all.

In the gloom, you see it. See her.

A woman, dressed in furs, stones and shells glimmering on her chest like armour, stands in the snow before you. Thin and pale, eyes sunken. Her chest heaves with each breath as she looks around with wide eyes. Her hands are bare and bloody. It drips slowly from her fingers. Is it her blood? Or someone else's? You cannot tell, but you cannot mistake how thick it coats her skin.

Her head turns to look at you. You are stunned, but not frightened. Even through the gloom, after a moment or two, her eyes widen in recognition: she knows you.

Slowly and silent, other than her noisy breathing, she draws close to you. Maybe in turn you draw close to her, closing the distance between you. Up close, her eyes are blue, and sad. You cannot mistake the sorrow in them. She is tired, weary. Her hair is dark, worn loose and long. For some, you feel as if you've seen her before, but you can't quite place her face.

Softly, she says your name.

For some, there may be no recognition. This woman is a stranger, who knows your name somehow. She has been silent the past couple of months, after all.

For others, hearing her speak brings a sudden, jarring realisation: this is Enola.

She’s here. Enola. All this time, she’s whispered to you in dreams, in static, in the very air itself.

She raises one hand, dark and dripping in the green light. Lightly, her fingers brush against your chest. You don’t feel the pressure of them, don’t feel the odd heat of blood — only the weight of her stare as she holds your gaze. It’s a long moment of peace in amongst the chaos.

You feel her exhaustion, a tiredness that sinks into your very bones. Apologies, too. You have never known anything like it. But there’s something else too, something that takes a moment or two to put your finger on. Defiance. A renewal. Something shifts in the air, a growing tension, different from the kind that’s been held on the air throughout the month. It’s the coming of a storm, the rolling clouds, the growing rumble of thunder before the first lightning strike.

Enola nods, her expression grave. She pulls away and turns from you — her head lifting towards the skies as she walks. Her arms raise, bloodied hands twisting and tensing before her. They curl, almost into fists, and she makes a gesture: the slow tearing of something huge and invisible before her — a shriek spilling from her lips. A battle-cry, a last stand, a wail of agony. It echoes.

The sky cracks and splits open before you, dazzling light and colours blinding your vision into pure white. The world tilts too hard below your feet, and you don’t remember passing out.

When you awaken, Enola is gone. The skies are clear and blue, the sun is high in the sky. As you pick yourself up from the snow, in the harsh light of the polar day, blood has never looked so red. The horrors of the night laid bare. Interlopers are dead, but the Darkwalker’s influence is gone. For now.

In the wake of Midsummer, all Interlopers can do is try reconcile. Bury the dead, rebuild, lick wounds. But that feeling in the air still remains — that different, new kind of tension that has come with Enola’s appearance. The first of the lightning bolts has struck, but more are coming.

FAQs

A SIGN OF THINGS TO COME

1. Alexander Hilbert has been devoured by the Darkwalker. His remains can be found in the Hydrodam. The following note has been left by Kates concerning his death: ‘Sveta gets possession of his research notes + blood samples + creepy lab journal because it's all in Russian, lmao.’

2. Information on the Darkwalker’s attack can be found here.

3. Usually, after the Darkwalker attacks, the sky would return to normal. This won’t happen. Instead, the usual atmospheric changes that occur during Darkwalker attacks will remain in place as June continues..

POLAR SUN

1. For an idea how the setting appears for June, it's like what you see in the game during the Escape The Darkwalker Challenge. Inside, there'll be a degree of green shades to rooms etc via what comes through windows but with it being lit up via fires and light sources, the gloom will be chased back.

2. Characters are free to use this event to kill NPC Interlopers. Methuselah and Young Bill are off the table, as are two marked NPC Interlopers. Please let Mods know if you intend on doing this for record keeping!

3. These acts of violence can be physical or verbal altercations, players are encouraged to work with the prompt however they'd like! However, anything potentially world-altering (ie. building destruction) must be first discussed with mods.

4. Interlopers under the Darkwalker's influence can be stopped in a number of ways. Showing genuine care and compassion in the face of violence is one way. Knocking an Interloper out is another way. Sometimes killing an Interloper may be needed, or simply restraining them and keeping them locked up somewhere so they can't hurt anyone else until the night is over would also work.

5. Talismans made by Heartman back in March with a Ward Sigil against the Darkwalker will come into effect during this prompt. It's been an ongoing process, with new Interlopers being offered them from their arrival. Players are free to choose what kind of talisman they received, or if they chose to get one at all. Their effectiveness is dependent on the type of blood used on the talisman.

— Animal Blood: Interlopers carrying talismans using blood from animals found in the world, such as deer, rabbits or wolves will find themselves more susceptible to the Darkwalker’s influence and disposition towards violence. They will be much harder to break out of the hold over them, and become almost frenzied state.
— Monster Blood: Interlopers carrying talismans using blood from any creatures or monsters that Interlopers have encountered in their time in the Northern Territories, such as the Serpent from December’s TDM will find there are no negative nor positive effects. The talisman is essentially useless. and Interlopers will fall under the Darkwalker's influence.
— Interloper Blood: Interlopers carrying talismans using blood for Interlopers will be offered protection/resistance from the Darkwalker’s influence and disposition towards violence. They may be slightly affected but will have their wits about them more compared to others. If the blood came from an Interloper with an Aurora Feat — this protection/resistance will be largely increased, an the Interloper may even feel braver, less affected by the fear in the atmosphere.
— No Talisman: Similar to the Monster Blood Talisman, Interlopers will be affected typically by the Darkwalker's influence in due course.

There are no additional affects with an Interloper using their own blood, just if they have an Aurora Feat or not.

6. Animals owned by Interlopers will be more frightened and will want to hide away in the build up — they will be disturbed by the world. Mostly lying down and whining/restlessness. They may display some signs of aggression on occasion, but not to the same degree of humans.

7. Forest Talkers are hidden away and will not be able to be reached during the Solstice.

REPRIEVE

1. Enola can only be met alone, but she will appear to all Interlopers in Milton.

2. Enola will be nowhere to be found afterwards, there are no tracks to be followed. She has simply vanished.

PLOTTING POST

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Raju nods, watching Svetlana preparing the needle. To a chair and back, he can arrange that. But if he has any more questions, he can save them; the last thing he's going to want to do for the next few minutes is distract her.

He frowns softly. “What are you doing with the needle?”

Not the stitching, he understands that piece, but why she’s coating the instrument in a clear solvent. Mr. I-Was-Born-Before-Germ-Theory’s curiosity is getting the better of him.

Ah yes. She had this conversation with Goodsir.

"There are organisms, smaller than any eye can see. They are the reason for infections. This kill them so the needle is clean."

She takes the biggest wound and gives his shoulder a squeeze before she starts stitching.

While the question and its answer itself isn’t anything shocking to Raju the fact that Francis asks it at all grabs his attention, and he starts watching Francis instead. It isn’t as if Francis can’t show interest in anything outside of the pain, or that he hasn’t, but it’s been… more rare in these awful past few days, and Raju watches him intently to see whether that interest will survive her explanation, and the stitching. It might give Francis something else to think about, if nothing else.

Tiny little organisms - what had Leeuwenhoek called them? Animalcules. He didn’t think they had anything to do with illnesses though, and then there’d been the cell theory first introduced by Hooke and his experiments with cork.

He continues to be distracted by the running thoughts in his own mind, barely even flinching when the needle pierces his skin. It all hurts, there’s really no difference in it anymore.

“Fascinating,” he mutters, twitching slightly when his skin is pulled taut. “If small organisms cause infection, that must be why consumption spreads so quickly aboard ships,” he murmurs to himself. Cleanliness did keep away most illnesses…he’ll have to discuss with Goodsir later.

Another reason to keep himself alive. He laughs to himself, immediately wincing in pain from it.

"Yes," she adds. "It's spread by small drops of water. The disease is in the lungs and so when a sick person sneezes or coughs, those drops of water travel through the air and into the lungs of others. They settle there and spread, infecting them at the same time."

She is happy to talk while she works, happy to keep him distracted on other things. As she does, she gestures Raju over.

"These bandages need to be changed daily. If you see green, red, or if he runs hot with fever, call on me immediately."

Raju moves closer obediently, giving her a sharp nod. "And the bandages can be reused, if I boil them afterward? I know we're in short supply of everything here. I've been using rags, but they're not always so strong as I'd like."

This next part of the conversation is only partially directed towards him. It’s for his caregiver…which is a depressing thought. Raju’s now his caregiver, the person in charge of monitoring the colors on his bandages and making sure he doesn’t run a fever like some sort of nursemaid.

She tsks softly, attending to a particularly difficult stitch before covering it. "Yes, you can reuse them, but they must be cleaned. Boiling is fine. Rinsing them in antiseptic is better. I can leave some here for you. I have plenty."

Her dirty work done, she backs away to wash her hands.

"That would help," he says, grateful. Even if she has plenty now, what she doesn't give to him she could be using for something else down the line, and when there's no way to get anything new here, giving him any is generous. "Thank you doctor."

He turns to Francis, setting a careful hand over his shoulders and eyeing the new stitching. "How are those pills working, Francis? Alright?"

He starts shaking his head out of habit, then quickly stops himself when there's a numb little tug on the stitches around his eye. Oof. Francis, you idiot.

"In all honesty, I don't feel much of a difference. Some of the stiffness seems to be gone." He'll take it. At this point he just assumes he's going to be in a great amount of pain.

She frowns, placing a hand on his arm. She glances to Francis and then to Raju. "Could you give me a moment with him?"

Even though she asks, the tone in her voice is very firm. She won't accept anything more than acquiescence.

Raju raises his eyebrows. "Of course," he says, surprised, but— Francis trusts her. If she was dangerous, if she was going to hurt him, she wouldn't have been let inside at all. "Let me know if you need anything."

He says it as much to Svetlana as Francis, for politeness' sake, and then he walks away toward one of the cabin's colder, seldom used rooms, not exactly content to leave them to it — it's going to be hard to resist the urge to listen in, and he might not actually resist it very hard — but not about to argue, either. There are things she can do for Francis that he can't, and if that means he doesn't get to know everything...

Well, he'll find everything he needs to out somehow. It's alright. Francis is going to be fine.

He knows Raju well enough by now to anticipate his reaction to the doctor's orders. He'll follow them, absolutely, but he'll be reluctant to leave him the entire time. He can't give him one of those patented reassuring nods, but he can catch him as he walks by with a pat to his shoulder.

This has something to do with the painkillers. It's not a large logical leap to make. "What would you like to know?"

She pulls over a chair and frowns. "Sir - this might be a delicate question, but do you have a history of overindulgence?"

Obviously not here, as she isn't seeing any of the withdrawal symptoms, but it doesn't often matter.

He thought as much.

"With the drink," he answers quietly. There's still shame there, not for the weakness but for the troubles it keeps causing others. "Whiskey. I was a social drinker for a time, then dependent on it, then sick with it."

Tom Blanky's poor leg.

"I stopped some years ago. Nearly killed me, but I haven't touched a drop since." Not that he doesn't still crave it like air at times.

She hums. "Alright. That's why the painkillers haven't touched you very much. I gave you a small dose, but the alcoholism makes it so you're more tolerant of such things. Unfortunately, I can't give you anything too strong, as it may lead right back to addiction."

Svetlana pats his arm lightly. "But I won't leave you without. Do you have any questions for me?"

It hadn’t occurred to him before this very moment that his dependence on the drink would have changed his body’s relationship to medicine. It makes sense though, doesn’t it? He craved the whiskey - he could crave something strong like laudanum fairly easily too.

“I understand,” he says quietly. It would be a hindrance for him, not a help, and she couldn’t abide that. “I didn’t know I could…replace, as it were, my earlier reliance on the drink with something else. In all honesty I feel like I would have better off not knowing.”

It’s frightened him, far more than the whistling in his lungs has.

Oh, this poor, poor man. She doesn't envy him trying to learn all of these new consequences for the drink. And Sveta is quite used to it.

"It can, yes, but everything that can be addicting is held under lock and key by myself or Doctor Goodsir. And I will make sure he knows what not to give you the next time we talk. Don't worry, sir. I'm here to keep you safe and healthy."

She pats his arm. "Do you have any other questions for me?"

Knowing that they've taken precautions does help. Even if he wasn't directly involved Goodsir would have known the full extent of his illness, but it wouldn't shame him if Dr. Nazarova had to instruct him on what to keep away from his lushington of a former commander.

"Thank you," he mutters, glancing away from her briefly. When his gaze returns to hers its sharp and clear, despite only coming from one eye. He has to ask this question away from Raju. "Tell me truthfully now - if infection doesn't set in, how likely is it that I'll make a full recovery?"

She glances to the door and then back to him. "Very likely. You may always have some stiffness and you may have some breathing trouble, but it shouldn't impact you if you aren't doing jogging regularly." She pats his shoulder, trying to be reassuring. "The human body is miraculous and there is no reason to think that this will debilitate you. But you must allow yourself to rest."

Well, he is most certainly not jogging regularly. Long-distance trudging, yes, but those are entirely different things.

"Worry not, I'll heed your warning. I'm not a young man, Doctor Nazarova. I won't push myself if a doctor tells me not to." He attempts a smile - it's halfway successful.

"Call Raju in, doctor? I know he's trying to listen by the doorway by now."

She turns to the door. "You can come in now!" she calls out and starts to clean up her supplies.

"I'll take any final questions from either of you and then be on my way. But! I will come back first thing in the morning tomorrow to check on you. I'll be in my clinic tonight, so if a fever starts, come find me immediately."

When Raju comes back in he's smiling, not sheepish — that would require some hint of shame — but not bothering to pretend Francis hadn't predicted him perfectly.

"If the first fever didn't get him a new one won't either," he says, resting his hand over Francis' shoulders, happy that Francis is well enough now that Raju can afford to be confident at all. "But I will. Thank you, doctor."

“You’re very confident,” Crozier mutters, but he does lean back a little into Raju’s hand. No more fevers, please-and-thank-you.

He reaches out to grasp Svetlana’s hand for a moment, his gratitude extending beyond words. He tries to meet her gaze, eyes soft and lips upturned in the quietest of smiles.

“Travel safely, doctor. We’ll see you in the morning.”

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