TDM The First

[lethevale_mods]

You probably know how this works, but just in case, here's the idea:

1. You put the name of the character you're testing out in the subject line
2. You write a starter (or several!) in the comment, with the Lethevale AU of your character.
3. People respond with their characters. Threads occur. Friendships are made. The world is put to rights.
4. None of the threads in the Test Drive are game-canon.

Here are some prompts to start you off!

1. Seeking Shelter

You were riding along the mountain road when your horse, terrified by some dark shadow you couldn't see clearly, screamed and bolted, throwing you. Now you're caught in the middle of nowhere, in Lethe Wood, and the rain is getting heavier by the minute.

But what's that? A light? A house? Perhaps if you knock, they'll give you a bed for the night. It'll all look better in the morning...

 

 

2. The Beast! The Terrible Beast!

You took all the precautions. You carried a lantern, kept to the safer streets. Or maybe you didn't. Either way, you were attacked by something as big as a horse, with gleaming white teeth and a hideous howl.

When you run into another person, will you warn them? Will you ask them for a hiding place, or stand and fight? If all else fails, maybe you can use them as live bait...

 

3. Eat, Drink, and Be Merry

Lethevale isn't all monsters and storms. Mostly, but not all. Tonight, there's a party in the Black Swan - dancing, music, and of course, an open bar. Take the chance to get to know your neighbours, why don't you?

4. Pay No Attention To The Passage Behind The Curtain

The two of you were just wandering around Lethe Hall, when you leant on a candlestick, and... what's this? The bookshelf's opened? There's a hole in the wall now, and a spiral staircase leading down into the dark. You know, it's probably best to just leave well enough alone - but you have to admit, it's curious...

COMMS	GENERAL INFO	NEW PLAYERS	CURRENT PLAYERS
main writings ooc mods mod npcs	rules setting premise faq/mod contact gameplay	reserves taken latest tdm application au workshop	contact (locked) hiatus/drop calendar latest hmd lethevale

Comments

Major Elim Rawne

[major_rawne]

(he's going by the name Ibram Gaunt, so if the characters have met before, that's what they know him as)

1. Seeking Shelter:
Rawne had been riding hell for leather along the narrow dirt road winding through the mountains when his horse had thrown him. He'd lain insensible for some time, he knew not how long, during which it had started raining.
He woke by the side of the road, wet through, with nothing but a wall of rain and trees everywhere he looked. He'd staggered off up the road, hoping for shelter, but finding none. After what seemed like forever, just as he'd collapsed against a tree, wholly worn out, he noticed a light up ahead, not far off the road. After a brief rest, he started resolutely towards it.

2. Pay No Attention To The Passage Behind The Curtain:
He'd always guessed that there were secret passages in this old house. When the bookshelf opened, he turned to his companion and gestured. "After you."

1

[insufficientjewel]

Half-hidden among the trees stood a small, stone cottage, in some disrepair; there were slates missing from the roof and a steady trickle of rainwater fell from a hole in the little roof above the door, but the firelight coming from the window was warm and welcoming.

The door opened before Rawne could knock, and a tall man dressed in a darned woollen suit held up his candle, stepping aside at once to gesture the stranger inside.

"Come in," he urged. "Quickly, before the rain follows you."

Re: 1

[major_rawne]

Rawne ducked inside, taking his hat off as he did so. He looked around the cottage, taking in both the warm fire and the hole.

"Bit of a shithole, isn't it?" he said, in a Scottish accent. You'd think a man as wet and muddy as he was would be grateful for any shelter. Maybe most, but not him.

[insufficientjewel]

Francis flinched a little, either at the swearing or just at the tone, and his expression tautened for a split second as he closed and latched the door against the wind.

"I've only been here a few days," he said, his tone apologetic. "Once the weather clears a little, I mean to start on some of the repairs. But for now... It does keep the worst of the wind out." For now, there's just a bucket under the leak, already half-full. The rest of the cottage is surprisingly neat, books and maps stacked on the shelves and covered conscientiously with oilcloth to protect them from any more leaks. The hearth is swept and stacked with firewood to keep the blazing fire banked.

Francis gestures his guest towards the wooden chair by the fire, and snatches up a blanket from one of the two cots at the edge of the room, holding it out. "Here. My clothes may be a little small for you, but I'll see whether there's anything dry you can change into while you warm up."

[major_rawne]

"My thanks," he said, belatedly and awkwardly and peeled off his coat. The worst of the wet and mud were on that, but his pants were wet and the rest of him was damp. He took the blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders as he sat, glaring at the fire.

[insufficientjewel]

Frowning faintly, Francis turned to dig through the small suitcase on one of the cots, glancing over his shoulder at the stranger as he rifled through his clothes. It was only now that he began to fully register the state the other man was in, the injuries underneath the mud and rainwater.

Turning back with a neatly-folded shirt and trousers in his arms, he held them out and looked the other man up and down, scrutinising. "Are you badly hurt?" he asked, with every appearance of sincere concern. "I do not wish to press you, but..."

[major_rawne]

"I was thrown from my horse. I made it here, but..." he trailed off. Now that he's sitting down and not numb with cold, his entire body was starting to ache. Especially his right shoulder, where most of his weight had landed when he'd hit the ground.

[insufficientjewel]

"Is anything broken?" It didn't look like it, admittedly, but that didn't necessarily mean much - Francis was a long way from a doctor, after all. "I believe there's a surgery in town. When the storm abates, perhaps you should go there. In the meantime..." He turns, picking up the kettle from the mantelpiece, and raises one eyebrow as he holds it up. "Tea?"

[major_rawne]

"I don't believe so." He doesn't feel like anything's broken, just bruised. He's had broken limbs before, so he should know the difference. "Tea... would be nice. Thank you."

[insufficientjewel]

Francis nods, setting the kettle back on the fire, and after a moment more he goes to sit on the edge of the cot, picking up the book he had been leafing through. Outside, the storm crashes and rages, as Francis considers the man in front of him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't introduce myself." He puts out his free hand, holding it out to shake. "Francis Fletcher."

[tuishou]

The Hall ought to be one of the older buildings here; it certainly held the importance of one with such history. It was a behemoth of a thing for such a town, and even entering the threshold made the boy think he should first have asked permission, though such a thought is a silly thing. If one works in the damned city, then one has all the rights to its places that belong to all and none in particular. He'd set about his evening to look not the part of some tourist--

There are records kept here, old dates and happenings, and he was being pulled to find them and know them, if they were ever worth the while.

Somewhere along the line, he'd encountered the man with the mark on his face. First time, Neji was certain feigning ignorance of the man was the right call. Second time they bumped into each other's space, and the stairs mocked them as they winded down, down... made Neji want to pull a face. A ringing in his ears sing-songs something about Fate, and it's incredibly difficult to

not act as if he's just taken those two words sourly, really. "How generous of you, sir," he says, and wonders: why this, why now? "Seeing as you have been here before, then I shall assume you will know our way back out. What may we find there that will be worth the dark, sir?"

[major_rawne]

"A place like this has treasure enough for at least two men," he says, "we would be fools not to seek it out."

He peers into the darkness, but cannot see any detail of what lies within.

[tuishou]

Oh. "And here you looked to me more a hunter of men than one of treasures." Though, for all of their intent (of which there is plenty), the words ring casual. So, no-- the other had no idea of what lay beyond, either.

That was encouraging.

There was the pull, though. The bewitching curiosity.

Information was what it was, and Neji cast his companion one quick glance (no knife poised to plunge into his back?) before beginning the descent. "And you would buy with that treasure, what, sir? A new name, so the Lords of this country don't take what's theirs from your hand?"

[major_rawne]

"I could be both," his voice is cold. He doesn't like people asking too probing questions. "I could by a path out of here and a life in some distant land."

No, he's not going to stab anyone in the back. Yet.

[tuishou]

The boy lets the dismissal serve its purpose. His lips set in a small frown, not that it means much of anything. The frown is for the darkness overtaking the light, for the staircase coming to its end to show only smooth floor ahead. For the notion of a new life. He hums a disagreement.

"There may be a door- I believe I see it ahead. What promise have we the passage we came through will remain open until our return, sir?"

Not that he cares, by the way he travels to hold a hand to a cool wall of this new room, scouting corners before ever facing the treasure-hunter again.

[major_rawne]

"Perhaps if we wedge it open, somehow," he says, "we could used a piece of wood or metal. Not very widely open, but enough to be able to leave."

[tuishou]

He nods and in the dim light he isn't sure why he bothered. "I leave that to you."

In his sort-of retaliation for being made to go down the steps first-- yes he's petty shut up. Not to mention, "It makes no sense to have us both up and down the steps again for that simple job. Meanwhile I will search what I believe is ahead."

[major_rawne]

Rawne rolls his eyes, not that the other man could see. "Do as you will."

He crouches and searches the floor until he finds a suitable object, then climbs back up and mostly closes the door, wedging the piece under it. Then he goes back down.

[tuishou]

It'd been nothing. His target, he means. The room had been a simple nook for what Neji can assume had used to be storage. When Star-Mark returns and there's significantly less light to see by, Neji hands over the torch. Unlit. Naturally.

Let the man's curiosity cost him a match at least, because if the two of them take their lasts breaths in this claustrophobic labyrinth Neji doubts there will be mourning for any marked property.

What's valuable is usually kept spotless.

"There more steps just ahead, behind a turn. They are less worn than these."

seeking shelter;

[deadandgone]

Normally, Francis can't be bothered by a bit of rain. But when the clouds overhead begin to gather, dark and angry, he curses his poor luck. It's the only explanation for how a clear day turns sour so quickly - and on land, no less.

Pulling up the collar on his coat, Francis sets off at a brisk pace for the stone bridge he knows is over the raise in the road. His companion, a large, shaggy black dog, travels in figure eights in front and behind him, seemingly unperturbed by the downpour of rain that was presently turning the dirt road into mud. When the dog stops by the tree line, so does Francis, peering into the dark of the forest where the Newfoundland has his gaze fixed. He raises his lantern, one hand on the pistol in his coat pocket as a figure emerges. The man is a stranger to Francis and looks soaked to the bone, clothes and hair threaded with branches and leaves.

Francis narrows his eyes, sizing up the man he isn't entirely sure is a fellow resident of Lethevale.

"Just taking a nap out in the woods, are you?" he says, expecting a good answer.

Re: seeking shelter;

[major_rawne]

"My horse threw me. I expect she's run off now," Rawne says, too cold and wet to think of a good lie.

The man with the lantern is tall, blonde, and severe. A bolt of fear hits him, momentarily convinced that Gaunt has come back to life and is here to welcome him into the afterlife. Did he die when his horse threw him?

But then he gets a better look at the man and no, it's some other blonde gentleman, with a giant black dog. An officer, he guesses, by his bearing. Perhaps Navy.

[deadandgone]

Francis only nods, accepting the slightly dazed look about the man as the only reaction one should have for losing one's horse out in a such a miserable storm.

"Haven't seen a horse," he offers, "but if she's yours she may just know the way back home."

By now, the huge black dog accompanying Francis has circled around the stranger, and bowed his head to take a few sniffs at his feet and trousers.

"Where were you headed?" Francis nods back behind him, to the road that leads back into town and lowers his lantern.

[major_rawne]

"I hope she does, I paid a lot for her," he says, "I was headed into town. I was trying to get there before the storm arrived."

He watches the dog sniff him, but he doesn't move to offer a hand or pet it.

[deadandgone]

Francis peers at the stranger for a moment and considers the idea that he must be losing his bearings to be caught so unawares by the storm that's growing worse by the minute. Pulling his coat tighter around him, Francis nods his head up the road, in the general direction of town.

"Come on, then. Lest we become buckets, collecting the rain as we are." Then he begins the climb up the small hill, boots catching in the mud. Turning back, he can see the dog following closely behind them both, as though wary of their new traveling companion. "That's Neptune there," Francis says, taking notice of the wary manner Neptune had been regarded. "And yourself?"

[major_rawne]

"Ibram Gaunt, sir." He didn't intend to say "sir," but the man has an air about him that makes it instinct.

He follows close behind, not wanting to loose the light of the lantern in the rain. The rain sucks at his boots, but he keeps going. A headache has been building behind his eyes and he wants to get to safety before it gets to be too much.